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ghstandpucks · 4 years ago

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Cutting Edge ~ Nathan MacKinnon Ch.7

Hi everyone! I hope you are all having a wonderful day! I was excited writing this chapter and I hope you all love it! I think at this point I’m half way through the serious with the different events I have in my head to take place! Thank you for all the kind words and reblogs! You have no idea the smile it puts on my face! Anyways, enjoy and let me know what you think!

Prologue Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6

You almost did a spit take when the Avs’ media department told you their plan for that Saturday’s home opener. “You know that is in three days, right?” you asked to clarify you heard correctly.

“Yes we do. It shouldn’t be that big of a deal though, you already know the routine,” one of the men spoke up. You looked at him like he had grown an extra head.

“I’ve skated at least five different routines after it. You can’t expect me to remember that one specifically,” you argued. “Also, fans are coming here for a hockey game, not a figure skating event.” The media department was asking you to perform your long program that you skated for the Olympics during the second intermission.

“It would be a fun way to introduce you to the fan base though. Show everyone that we have an Olympic champion as a coach,” you stared at the girl who told you this. They were all smiling at you, but you were starting to feel like a side show.

“I just want to be treated like one of the team, one of the coaches. I don’t want to be a side show,” you tried to reason with them.

“You aren’t. Just this once. It is the home opener after all, everyone will be excited and we’ve had requests on our social media to see you skate.” The man said again, but this time looked disinterested in anything else you wanted to argue. How was skating your performance in a sparkly, little dress going to earn you respect as a coach? The media team looked at you expectantly.

“Just this once please. I’d rather have the focus on the team and blend into the background myself,” you conceded. A few of them nodded, but you weren’t so sure you were being heard. You had this problem more frequently than you would like. Being of smaller stature with a softer voice, you weren’t always taken as seriously as you would like to be. Leaving the meeting, you walked back over to the ice and put your skates back on. The team had a light practice that afternoon after playing two back to back games, you being pulled aside after practice.

Back on the ice, you looked up your routine on Youtube. No one could really blame you for forgetting parts of your routine; you still competed after the Olympics and did have to memorize new ones. Playing the music over the loud speaker you started to mark your program, slowly remembering where your spins and jumps were placed. The footwork was what would be tripping you up. You closed your eyes and tried to remember as best you could, until you skated backward into a wall. Or what you thought was a wall but ended up being Nate, his hands on your waist to steady you. “Dang MacKinnon, you are a fridge,” you laughed as he let go of you. Nate’s cheeks became a little red as he chuckled.

“Why do you look so stressed?” he asked you. You looked down quickly, not realizing that you had a look on your face.

“It’s nothing,” you tried to smile. You knew the home opener game was on everyone’s nerves. They wanted to play well and win, and did not need you panicking for a different reason. “Why are you still here?” you asked, trying to change the subject.

“I was waiting for you outside, but you never came out after media took you off for whatever they needed. I just thought I would come find you,” he said quietly, trying to gauge your mood still. “Why is your music playing?” You let out a laugh.

“You actually know this is my music?” you asked, starting to skate backward away from him. Nate followed, starting to see you were avoiding his questions but also wanting an answer.

“Coach showed us your routine when he told us you would be our skating coach,” he explained.

“You have a good memory,” you commented, stopping the music once you reached your phone. Nate rolled his eyes and took your phone out of your hands. “Hey!” you yelped, trying to take it back from him. He looked at the video and back at you with a raised eyebrow. “Media asked me to perform my routine between the 2nd and 3rd period. The only thing is that I’ve kind of forgotten my footwork for it because I’ve had other routines after it. Plus I’m not entirely comfortable performing it at a hockey game that I’m supposed to be a coach at.” You explained in a huff, turning in circles as you explained because you couldn’t exactly stand still.

“Why did they ask you to do that?” Nate asked, reaching out and grabbing your hand to get you to stop spinning. You shrugged, looking down at your hands and playing with his fingers.

“They said to introduce me to the fan base.” Nate nodded and looked at your phone.

“Well what do you need help with?” he asked. You looked up at him and relaxed a bit under his gaze.

“You don’t have to stay. I’m sure your tired,” you said, but he shook his head.

“Either you tell me what I can help you with, or I will keep your phone so you can’t practice at all.” Nate gave you a straight face. You rolled your eyes but smiled at him.

“Tell me if the footwork matches up?” you asked swiveling away from him, and Nate smiled softly at you.

“You got it Coach.”

~ ~ ~

The feeling at the Pepsi Center was electric. The fans were excited and it made the arena come to life in a way that a figure skating event never had. At your competitions, people sat patiently in their seats for their favorite skater to take the ice, clapping politely for the others. Here at the game the fans were up and yelling, being as noisy as they could. You tried to focus on the team, but your performance was in the back of your mind. Was this really a crowd who wanted to watch a skating routine. You were standing behind Kadri at the moment, half way through the second period. The score was tied 1-1, and you could feel the tension radiating off the team. With about five minutes left, the other team called a time out and a woman from media appeared on the other side of the glass, motioning for you to go with her. Bednar saw her too, and nodded toward you. “Break a leg kid,” he said as you walked past him. Nate was on the ice and skated over to the box opening, offering you his arm before you stepped onto the ice. As you reached out for him, you remembered what you wanted to say during the time out.

“Oh! Cale, try to go to the outside. They keep stopping you when you turn in,” you said and he nodded.

“Good luck,” Nate whispered as you let go of his arm when you got back on the none-slip surface off the ice. You sent him a small smile. As you were changing, you heard the goal buzzard go off and the crowd cheering. You hoped that meant it was one of your boys. Looking in the mirror after you changed, a huge smile lit up your face. You hadn’t worn this dress since the Olympics, and you loved the way it made you feel. It started off white at the top, and faded into (Y/Fav/Color). The whole dress was bedazzled with Swarovski crystals the same color as the material of the dress. The sleeves were sheer netting, bedazzled as well, with an open back. You put on your three-tier crystal choker that you wore for every competition since you were 8. Not one to have a lot of superstitions, your choker was the one thing that would devastate you to skate without since you had it for so long. You had worn your hair into a bun for the game and just had to fix your make up. You did not want to show up with competition make up to the game. Lacing up your skates, you walked out and started to warm up your jumps in the tunnel. Once the ice was clean, you were able to skate out and warm up quickly. No attention was draw to you, though being the only one on the ice drew it to you anyways. After warming up your jumps and a spin, you skated back off to wait for your introduction. Taking off your jacket, you jumped slightly as someone took it from you.

“Didn’t think you could perform without us Coach, did you?” Tyson asked. You turned around and saw the team walking back down the tunnel toward you, most with their helmets and gloves off. The guys piled onto the bench, along with the other coaches. It made you relax slightly having familiar faces. Nate sat on the edge closest to you and gave you a reassuring smile.

“You got this,” he said in a low tone so that only you heard. You nodded, smiling brighter as you heard your name over the speaker. You skated out to center ice, elegantly striking your beginning pose. The music started, and everything around you faded as it always did when you performed. You felt like you were flying when you jumped, and couldn’t help a little excited toe step when you landed your last triple axle of the routine. Also, it did not help that you heard the guys cheering you on, so you knew you were doing something right. The last note of your music played, and you jumped out of your scratch spin to your backward bend, effectively ending your movement and routine. The stadium lit up in applause, whether they were just being polite or not you didn’t know, neither did you really care. You didn’t realize how much you missed performing until now. Smiling, you bowed and waved at the crowd. As you started to head back toward the Avs, a chant of “Coach” started to sound. You laughed and went down the line high fiving them. The ice was set to be cleaned once more, the holes your toe picks made being filled in quickly as there was about five minutes left of intermission. You were bouncing with adrenaline, and Tyson had to practically throw your jacket in your face for you to pay any attention to him. Walking off the ice with the team, you all of a sudden remembered the buzzard that went off while you were getting ready. You turned to Gabe who was next you.

“Who scored?” you asked eagerly. Gabe smiled his charming smile at you.

“Makar. It was your call Coach,” he said. You bounced excitedly and shoved Cale when you saw him. Nate was watching you the whole time, amused at your bubbliness.

The game went on, with the Avs scoring 3 more times, making the score 5-1 when the final buzzard sounded. You were standing on the bench when it happened, and Nate picked you up slightly to put you back on the ground before you tumbled off the bench in your excitement. He had remembered what you said about being clumsy if you didn’t have your skates on. Once the team was in the locker room, you grabbed your bag and your dress and changed. Nate had mentioned that everyone would be going out after the game and that you should go with them. Then when Mel facetimed you to pick out an outfit, you really couldn’t say no. Plus Nate said he would pick you up so you didn’t have to worry about driving that evening. Though you suggested it should be the other way around since he was the one playing in said game, he insisted. After letting down your hair from its bun, you changed into a pair of skinny jeans, a top that just barley hit the top of your jeans, heeled boots and a jacket, and walked back toward the locker room where the families and guests of players were starting to gather. Before you could even question where you should go, a familiar blonde grabbed your attention. “You were beautiful!” Mel squealed, pulling you into a hug. You laughed and thanked her.

“I never want to do that at a hockey game again, but thanks,” you smiled at her. She rolled her eyes.

“I know. Nate said you were apprehensive about it,” she said, eyeing you suspiciously. You gave her a questioning look. “Just cause I can’t get you to spill everything yet doesn’t mean I can’t get something out of him at least. And I got my something. So you look extra cute tonight, your welcome.” Mel smiled slyly at you. You were about to ask her what she actually meant when the team started to disperse out of the locker room. Sinking into the background as everyone greeted their loved ones, you couldn’t help but feel warm at the scene. Competing as a figure skater was so individualistic, you usually didn’t see your family after a competition until after the award ceremony back at the hotel. That was if they traveled with you at all. As you looked around, you locked eyes with a familiar pair of blue ones. Nate made his way over to you, scooping you up into a hug. You giggled; your arms wrapped around his neck. As if you both remembered where you were at the same time, Nate quickly set you down and you brushed your hair behind your ear awkwardly.

“Nice game MacKinnon,” you said, trying to not seem like you were too phased by remembering where you were. Nate chuckled, rubbing the back at of his neck. He felt slightly bad for making you feel awkward, but he was also getting tired of this unspoken line you had both drawn. What he wouldn’t do to just be able to kiss you then and there. He had to admit, watching your routine on video was one thing, but seeing you perform it in person and seeing you radiate with joy after took his breath away.

“Thanks coach. I guess you were pretty good too,” he winked at you. You laughed and shook your head, shoving his arm. Once everyone who was going out decided on where they were going, you walked with Nate to his car. Andre also got a ride with the two of you. You tried to tell him he could sit in the front since his legs were longer, but he insisted that you took the front. Once at the bar, the team got a seat in the VIP section, of course. You had actually never been in a VIP section, except for the time you went out with your friends for your 21st birthday. You had pulled the Olympian card, tipsy you having fun being center of attention when you usually shy away from it when you were off the ice; and it helped you were with a group of attractive people in the first place. Drinks were brought around and you had to fend off Tyson who kept trying to make you take a shot with him. Eventually you gave in and did one, but stuck with your beer for the rest of the night. You were a lightweight, and did not want to get drunk the first time you went out with everyone.

As the night went on, you were definitely tipsy but not uncontrollable. You danced with a few of the girls and just had a fun time talking with everyone. Nate kept a close eye on you, grinning as you cracked up at something one of the girls said. “So what are you going to do?” Gabe asked, taking a seat next to Nate at their table. No one was paying attention to the two; either out dancing, at the bar, or in other conversations.

“About what?” Nate took a sip of his beer.

“Coach. Y/N,” Gabe answered, rolling his eyes. He knew Nate knew what he was talking about. Nate sighed, and figured out of everyone Gabe would probably give the sanest advice in this situation.

“Honestly, I don’t know. I like being around her. I feel like I can just be myself and she doesn’t expect anything from me. I mean, I think she’s amazing,” Nate rambled and Gabe grinned at his friend. “But like you said the first day she showed up, I’m screwed. She’s our coach. She’s trying to work out this whole entire program and I don’t want to be the reason why it may not work out for her. There’s a line that we haven’t crossed for a reason, you know.” Gabe nodded. He felt bad that Nate was in this position. He was honestly just messing with him when he told him he was screwed that day; he hadn’t expected there to be actual feelings between the two. Nate had a solemn look on his face, and Gabe patted his shoulder.

“To be frank, you two seem to have some sort of connection. It’s not obvious, but I’ve been paying attention since day one because I thought it was funny at first. But since then you guys have just grown closer it seems. I mean, you hang out all time. And don’t think I didn’t notice that you went and sat with her on the plane coming home. I don’t know what to tell you, but you are both adults and I’m sure if you just talked to her about it you could work it out,” Gabe finished as you and Mel bounded over to the table.

“Work what out?” you asked, curious as to why the boys looked so serious. Gabe gave his wife a look that you did not understand, and answered as Nate seemed at a loss for words.

“A new play,” he said, and Nate nodded. You took a seat next to Nate as Mel sat next to her husband, and dove into a story of what Linnea did that day. Nate started to relax again, laughing along with you. Soon after the night came to an end, and Nate drove Andre home before heading to your apartment. He carried your backpack for you into your apartment, setting it down by the front door while you ran to your room to put your dress away. With his conversation with Gabe still echoing in his head, Nate sat down on your couch, rubbing his face.

“Do you want some water or something?” you asked, walking back into the main room.

“Yeah. Water would be great. Thanks,” he responded. You grabbed two water bottles out of your fridge and handed him one as you sat cross legged on the other side of the couch facing Nate.

“What’s up? Are you alright?” you asked, worried he was upset about something. It seemed like there was something on his mind. Nate turned to you, debating if he was really going to say it, or if he should leave it and you would both keep playing this game of not being something more to each other even though he was pretty sure you were on the same page as him. He gauged you as you watched him, deciding that you weren’t drunk, in fact you barely seemed tipsy anymore. If he was going to say anything, now would probably be the best. After taking a quick sip, he set the water down on your coffee table and turned so he was fully facing you.

“What are we doing Y/N?” he asked. You looked at him confused, not sure why he was asking.

“We’re hanging out? Drinking water…” you trailed off as he shook his head.

“I didn’t mean right now. I mean kind of but not really,” Nate mumbled, but stopped when you reached for his hand and stared down at them intertwined. “What does this mean to you?” he asked, giving your hand a light squeeze.

“Um,” you started, not sure if you actually wanted to say what it actually meant to you.

“Because this,” Nate squeezed your hand again, “means something to me. And I think it means something to you too.” You nodded at his assumption. That was all the reassurance Nate needed to keep talking. “I like you Y/N, a lot. Like more than I thought was possible.” You smiled shyly, but then you remembered why you were in Colorado to begin with.

“Nate, I’m your coach…” you started, but Nate shook his head.

“I know that. I would never want to put you in a situation that cost you that, but I also don’t want to pretend like these feelings don’t exist anymore.” He moved closer to you and your heart picked up a bit. “You looked beautiful skating today. I think you look beautiful everyday and I want to be able to tell you that without feeling like I’m crossing some imaginary boundry.” You blushed and looked down, but Nate used his other hand to gently lift your chin back up so you were looking at him. He looked slightly worried that he had said to much, so you knew it was your turn to talk.

“I really like you too Nate. I just don’t know how we’re supposed to navigate this. I’m worried that the program won’t be taken seriously if we start dating,” you said and Nate nodded, slowly letting go of your face. You could see the doubts start to form in his mind, and quickly grabbed his wrist, effectively keeping him there. The two of you stayed quiet for a moment, letting all the words that had been said sink in. Nate took a tentative breath, not sure if he wanted to know the answer to his next question.

“So then what do you want to do?” he whispered, but at your proximity to each other it could have been a shout. You were pondering what to say next when he spoke up again. “Because I would like to see where this could go Y/N.” If you had any more doubts, that sentence pushed them away. You smiled softly up at him and nodded.

“Me too,” your voice was barely over a whisper, but Nate heard you loud and clear. He smiled warmly at you, looking down at your lips then back into your eyes. This time when he leaned in, no phone went off to drag you both out of this blissful bubble surrounding you both. Your eyes fluttered shut as his lips finally met yours, the butterflies in your stomach working overtime. It was short and sweet, and you both had smiles that could light up a room when you pulled away. You knew there was a lot to discuss and figure out, but in that moment you could have cared less. The rest of the night was spent with stolen kisses and talking about nothing and everything all at once. Neither of you had ever felt so content. And as the sun started to rise over Denver that Sunday, it found the two of you cuddled up and fast asleep on your couch.

tags: @bqstqnbruin @avsfans95 @andreiaafaria also @gravygravygravy @comphybiscuit (I know you two didn’t ask, but you’ve been so nice to me <3)

#nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl x reader #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nathan mackinnon imagine #nathan mackinnon x reader #nate mackinnon imagine #nate mackinnon x reader #Nathan mackinnon #Cutting Edge

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firewoodfigs · 3 years ago

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some ~ highlights ~ for the past week:

- the start of the week was a pretty purgatorial experience, because i was rushing to clear all my work before i went on break 😫 i don’t think i got much sleep then lol i was literally just living off adrenaline and caffeine and stress — all of which combined did make me 52 times more efficient than i normally am LOL. i managed to clear everything in the end, so yay!!!

- also managed to make up for the sleep deprivation, which was very much needed :)) as tswift once said “sleep in half the day // just for old time’s sake” <3 i’ve been sleeping most of the pasts few days away and going on a bit of a social media detox because my eyes are really feeling the strain from work so 🥺 thankful for a brEAK!!!

- my bf and i drove over to a friend’s to drop off some snacks last Sunday night, and she gave me a bottle of kombucha that she made herself (along with an assortment of snacks to tide us through the late nights) 🥺 i’m not usually a fan of kombucha because the ones i’d had tastes like yakult gone bad, but this one was really good!!!! hats off to my friend for being a pro in the kitchen 🤩

- after months of scrimping and saving, I also finally got the guitar of my dreams 🥺🥺🥺 my fingers are all calluses now but it was well worth it. I learnt all too well, treacherous and crazier this week, and I’m so excited to learn more of tswift’s songs and put my guitar (a Taylor!!!) to good use!!! My bf is probably sick of listening to tswift’s Red album on loop by now (but also he’s secretly the biggest closet fan ever LMAO)

- I’ve also been writing a lot more songs recently, but I’ve been having trouble nailing down the bridges (which are always the trickiest part for me). That being said, I’m otw to my first vocal lesson now, and the coach I was talking to was nice enough to offer to help me out with songwriting too, so :’) fingers crossed it all goes well!! I’m still a nervous wreck when it comes to singing in front of people so it will probably take me at least fifteen minutes to regulate my breathing LMAO 🤠

- another Best BuyTM of 2021 is this hand soap that’s been all over tiktok LOL. I found the cheaper version of it and my bf and I have been washing our hands like excited children discovering bubbles for the first time ever since we got it. Fun times!!!

- I’ve been reading Tove Ditlevsen’s The Copenhagen Trilogy, and it is quickly becoming one of my favourite reads of 2021. Everything about it is stunning and I absolutely adore her prose!!! I strongly recommend this to everyone — I’m only halfway through but her exploration of girlhood and adolescence is so compelling yet relatable :’) This is an excerpt from part i, Childhood:

- friday was girls’ night out (or in, since we went to a friend’s place) and i was so happy to see my friends again 🥺 i’m always so thankful for friendships that have withstood time and change and it was just nice to hear about all that’s going on in everyone’s lives (in person). i also got to meet my friend’s dog again and am thoroughly convinced that she is an angel in disguise. like,

literally HAVE ALL MY UWUS!!! my friends have taken to calling me the weakest link bcs i simply cannot resist her puppy eyes and have to give her a treat every time. they’re not wrong 🤠

- i am really grateful that i got to spend time this weekend with the loml without any interruptions from work bcs we’re both on break now!! this is the first time in a long while since we’ve had a weekend to ourselves. we didn’t do much apart from eating and sleeping and watching black widow, but it was nice all the same! i just enjoy spending time with him haha and seeing him stress-free and well-rested fills me with inexplicable joy :’) we’re going to try our hand at painting today and manifest our non-existent artistic sides, which will be a fun time 😆

- SPEAKING OF ART, @nightofnyx8 made an incredible cover of “old time lovers” and everyone should go listen to it now because her voice is absolutely STUNNING!!! did i tear up at a bus stop while listening to it? absolutely not. did i spend the weekend screaming and yeeting into my pillow??? ofc not!!! (spoiler: im a terrible liar) ANYWAY PLS LISTEN TO IT I PROMISE U WILL NOT REGRET IT!!!! I AM MOT OVER IT STILL AND WILL NEVER BE AND ILYSM RACHEL U TALENTED UNICORN <3 (I’ll link it in a separate post so u can reblog this work of art🥰)

- i’m editing ch 2 of the college au now too so!!Looking forward to posting it tomorrow night :)

#have a good week everyone!!! 🥰🥰🥰#not fma #personal

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jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets · 3 years ago

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I Loved Him... Once - CH 6

Title: I Loved Him… Once

Author: jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Heid (Aaron Hotchner x Spencer Reid)

Rating: This ones General but eventually as the series goes it will be Explicit

Tags: canon typical violence and gore, eventual smut as the series goes, angst, fluff, pining., its gunna be a slow burn guys.

Summary: A series following the team as they solve crimes and take down the bad guys.

In Part one of this series, we follow the team as they take down a serial killer that has taken a piece of one of their own. And through it all, Spencer and Hotch come to a few conclusions and realizations of their own.

AO3

Masterlist

*** My works are not to be posted on any sites without my permission! But comments and reblogs are love! <3 Please and thanks!!

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

Chapter six

Spencer slowly walked into Eric's house. He had been here so many times in the past. Back when they were in university together they spent most of their time here, rather than studying in the overcrowded campus library, or Spencer's way too small single dorm room. But all the times he'd been here, he never once in his life thought he would ever be here as a profiler instead of a friend.

Being here again, it was strange, almost like he was in a dream. Like he was floating and couldn't get his feet back on the ground. As he slowly wandered through the small bungalow there were constant reminders of the fact that he and Eric had been as close as they were. Pictures on the walls of the two of them graduating, the entire collectors edition of the Sherlock series by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle that he'd bought him for his twenty eighth birthday, the awful matching ugly christmas sweater they had bought for one of the few parties they had been invited too, Spencer still had his and wore it every christmas. Everywhere he looked it seemed Eric had tried to keep him close even when they were far apart. It made him hurt even more that he hadn't seen Eric in over a year, that every time he tried to make plans with Spencer for a visit he had to call it off, most of the time because of work. He always thought there would be more time, now he knew he should have never taken any of it for granted.

As he continued to wander through, he searched for something, anything, that might help them understand exactly what was going on here, or at the very least lead them to the killer. But there was nothing. The place was as pristine as it always was, Eric was always as much of a neat freak as Spencer was, and not a single thing was out of place. There had been no struggle here, so Eric had been taken and killed somewhere else, and Spencer didn't think they would be finding anything helpful in his house. Which made him all the more frustrated.

"Hey, kid, come here!"

Spencer followed Derek's voice from Eric's bedroom to the pantry in the kitchen. Derek was in the far back corner of the pantry, standing on a small step ladder digging around on the top shelf. "Did you find something?"

"Yeah," he grunted, passing a few boxes down to Spencer and making more space on the top shelf, then Spencer saw it.

"How did you even find that? Who thinks to look for a safe in the pantry?"

"I wasn't really looking for anything up here," he explained, passing him more boxes of food, "but when I came in just to check it out, I noticed that most of the stuff in here hasn't even been touched. There's dust on most of the boxes of food, except right here the dust had been disturbed. So I looked and found the safe. Now, we can either wait for someone to come and break this open, or we can try to figure out the code on our own. Six digits, kid, what do you got?"

Spencer thought for a moment, then said, "Try his birthday, November second, seventy-eight."

"Nothing," Derek shook his head, "got another?"

"May fourteenth, eighty-four, the day his parents were killed."

He shook his head again, "Still nothing."

"Okay," Spencer searched his memory again for another important date in Eric's life, "maybe November tenth, ninety-six, that's the day he was released from foster care."

"Nope."

"September seventh, ninety-seven, his first day at Caltech."

"Not that either, kid," Derek sighed and turned away from the safe towards Spencer, "anything else?"

"Maybe, one second," he quickly dug out his phone, dialing a number and putting it on speaker.

"Office of the all and powerful Oz, speak your wish and it shall be granted."

"Garcia, we need your help," he moved closer to Derek on the ladder, lifting the phone more towards him, "we're trying to crack a safe in Eric's house, six digits, can you tell us what his real birth date was."

"Sure, sure, honey… that would be June twenty-first, seventy-three."

"... He was eight years older than me…" Spencer whispered to himself as Derek tried the new date and…

"Not that either. Any other important dates in Mason Maddox's life, baby girl?"

She typed for a few seconds before answering, "Maybe January eighteenth, ninety-seven? That's the day he made his new identity as Eric Watts."

"Nope," he sighed then turned to Spencer again, who was now just aimlessly staring at the floor, "maybe we should just wait for someone to come bust it open. Reid? Hey, kid, you still with me?"

Spencer closed his eyes as his heart sank to his stomach. It was obvious. "Try October twelfth, eighty-one."

There was a minute of tense silence, no one really wanting to breach this wall, but Derek said anyways, "That's your birthday."

"Yeah," he breathed, still not looking up from the floor, "try it."

Derek turned back to the safe, slowly inputting the six digits of Spencer's birthday, and turned the dial one last time. Spencer shut his eyes tight at the click that signaled they had cracked the code, and tried not to let the stinging in his eyes spill over into the sobs he could feel sneaking up on him.

"Why your-"

"He never missed a single one," he said, a little distantly, "called me every year we weren't together."

Derek just turned his head away again, not sure what he could say to help, and started digging through the safe.

"What's inside?"

"Woah…" Spencer finally looked up at that, a mixture of curious and worried crossing him.

"What?"

"Kid, I dunno if-"

"Just tell me what it is, Morgan!" He was getting a little short, he wanted everyone to stop treating him like he was fragile and just let him work the case.

"Alright," Derek sighed, but handed Spencer the file he had just been looking at, "but I don't know if it's a good idea." Spencer looked down at the file in his hands, hesitating. "Reid, it's still closed, so if you don't want to open it you don't have to. You can just hand it back to me."

He took a deep breath, contemplated what he really wanted to do and weighed all the outcomes in his mind, before looking up at Derek with a slight nod and opened the file. He instantly felt sick, betrayed, angry, he wanted to lash out but he kept flipping through. Inside were pictures upon pictures of brutal murders. Full eight by eleven sized photos of multiple different women being tortured, stabbed, bleeding. Pictures of the dump sites, pictures of these women before they were taken and after they were killed.

He could not believe what he was looking at, he didn't know why Eric would have these things locked up in a secret safe. Well, he did, but it was something he didn't want to have to admit, something he didn't want to have to accept.

He looked up at Derek once more, not able to say anything, then dropped the phone and file in his hand and ran out of the house. Derek didn't even have a chance to say anything or try to stop him before he was out of the pantry and gone.

He sighed, got down from the ladder, and grabbed up the file and phone Reid had dropped. Penelope was still on the line. "What happened?! Is our boy okay? What's in the file?! Oh god, Derek, tell me what's in the file."

"Our boy's not doing too well, baby girl," he started, gathering the photos and closed the file, "and according to the pictures we found in the file, it looks like Eric was a part of some very brutal murders."

"Oh… oh my god, poor Reid, oh…"

"Yeah, and I don't think there's much more we can do aside from just letting him work through it, and being here when he needs us. And breaking this case I'm sure will help too." He reached up inside the safe and pulled out something else. "Speaking of which, there's a laptop in here, baby girl. If I start it up do you think you can connect and unlock it? Start digging through his files?"

"Yes, absolutely."

"Alright," he stepped out of the pantry and into the kitchen, "you get that started and I've gotta make another call."

"I will call you back when I'm in."

Once she hung up, Derek dialed another number, not sure if he'd get an answer, but the call was answered immediately. "Reid?!"

"It's Morgan. You guys finished at Tyler Prince's place?"

"Yeah, he's not here. We're getting officers to go through the apartment now to try and figure out where he could be. How are things at Eric's place? Did you find anything?"

"Yeah, that's the reason why I'm calling," he hesitated a second, thinking back on what Rossi had said earlier, then said, "I think… I think I need you down here."

"Why? Is everything alright?"

Derek turned and looked to where Spencer had run out the back door. Hopefully David was right and this wasn't what he was worried it was.

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

"He's not here." Hotch holstered his gun and turned to David who was doing the same. "If he is finished with his revenge list, he could be anywhere by now."

David nodded his agreement, "Let's get the officers and rip this place apart. Maybe we can find some hint as to where he may have gone."

They started heading outside to retrieve more officers when Aaron's phone started ringing in his pocket. He dug it out and upon seeing the caller ID answered immediately. "Reid?!"

"It's Morgan. You guys finished at Tyler Prince's place?"

"Yeah, he's not here. We're getting officers to go through the apartment now to try and figure out where he could be. How are things at Eric's place? Did you find anything?"

"Yeah, that's the reason I'm calling." Then Derek hesitated and Aaron's stomach dropped to the floor. He had been worried the moment Spencer's name flashed on his phone, he had told him to call if he needed anything, and then even more worried when it was Derek's voice he was met with instead of Spencer's. And now, he was sure there was something wrong. "I think… I think I need you down here."

"Why?" He was sure the panic in his voice was evident to a profiler like Derek, but he couldn't care to mask it right now, "Is everything alright?"

"It's Reid-"

"I'm on my way."

He slammed his phone shut, and without even a single word between them, both Aaron and David ran for the car.

With the sirens blasting, the lights on, and Aaron driving with the gas pedal practically floored, they made it to Eric's house in less than ten minutes. Aaron parked and jumped out of the car as fast as he could, taking the porch steps in two bounds, and was skidding to a halt in the kitchen when he saw Derek.

He looked up from where he was sitting at the laptop at the kitchen counter and said, "He's out back," and Aaron was gone before he could say much more.

David strolled in soon after, joining Derek in the empty bar stool at the counter, and Derek turned to him with a still skeptical look.

"It's all good, Morgan, just let Aaron handle this." Derek just turned back to the laptop, still not satisfied with the lack of information he was getting. "What did you find that freaked the kid out so much?'

He slid the file across the counter to him, not taking his eyes off the screen, "We found a safe hidden in the pantry and broke in. The first thing that kind of freaked him out was that the code for the safe was his birthday. Then I found that and this laptop inside. I told him he didn't have to look, but he did."

"He wants to see this through," David nodded to himself, knowing he would probably do the same as Spencer in his case, then flipped open the file. He instantly recoiled at the sight of some of the pictures in the file as he filtered through, then sighed and closed it. "I can see why this freaked him out. It looks like Eric, or rather Mason Maddox, was involved in some very dark murders."

Derek nodded, running a hand down his face and turning to David, "I feel bad for him. He thought he knew this guy, obviously felt a little something for him, and all those years he's been murdering people behind Spencer's back. I can't even imagine being in that position, especially as a profiler. The kid's probably beating himself up over this."

"You're probably right, though none of that is his fault. From the outside Eric seemed like a completely normal man." He then turned his attention to the laptop in front of Derek. "And what about this?"

"Nothing yet, but Garcia's working on it. Hopefully she can get it unlocked, there might be something on it to help us find Prince."

David sighed, looking out the back door where the two agents had disappeared, "I hope you're right, for the kids sake, he at least deserves the closure."

~~~~~~~~~~~

Aaron ran out the back door as fast as he could looking for Spencer, but he was not in eyesight, so he bounded down the porch steps and into the backyard. Halfway across the lawn he heard the undeniable sounds of retching coming from behind the shed and ran to it.

Spencer was there, hunched over the bushes, heaving. Aaron hurried to him, wrapping one arm around his stomach while the other alternated between running fingers through his hair and rubbing his back. He helped him through it waiting until the heaving stopped and his legs gave out, and he let Spencer lean back against him as he softly lowered them to the ground.

Aaron leaned them against the shed, holding Spencer against his side while he clung to him and sobbed. But he didn't say anything, didn't ask what they had found that had upset him, he just waited. He let Spencer cry as long as he needed to, with his face buried deep in Aaron's shoulder, and held him tightly until he felt he was ready to talk.

"He killed people," he whispered, so quiet Aaron almost didn't catch it, before he lifted his head slightly, "Morgan found a safe and… there were pictures inside."

"Pictures of what?"

"Women, so many women," he sucked in a shuddering breath, "he tortured and killed them, and I never knew."

Aaron pulled Spencer close again, tucking him back into his neck, and running his fingers through his hair again. "You couldn't have known. Some of these people fit so well into society outside of their crimes, we would never know."

"I could have stopped him."

"It's not your fault," he turned his face to nose at the top of Spencer's head, "there was nothing you could have done."

He was quiet for another moment before whispering into his neck, "I feel so betrayed," and his sobs wracked up again.

"Hey," Aaron soothed, turning to wrap his other arm around him, "I know this is hard, and it's going to be for a while, but know that I am always here for you, and I will never betray you. No matter what, you will always have me."

He didn't say anything, just dug himself impossibly deeper into Aaron, and they stayed like that until then sun was starting to set and Spencer's sobs had finally died down.

Aaron was eventually able to get Spencer off the ground and guide him towards the house. Once inside, he asked Derek to take Spencer out to the cars and wait for them there. And without a word of argument after seeing the state of his friend, he grabbed up the laptop and left with Spencer under his arm.

Aaron watched them until they were out the front door then turned to David. "They found proof that Eric was killing people?"

He handed the file to Aaron who quickly looked through it, then closed it with a sigh. His heart bled for Spencer and ached to hold him again, tell him it was going to be okay, so he decided to hurry this along so he could try and do just that. "And the laptop Morgan took?"

"He found it in a safe along with that file. He's hoping Garcia can unlock it."

He nodded, then motioned for David to follow him out, "Let's all head back to the hotel for the night. I'm sure Prentis and JJ will have information to share with us as well, but we'll deal with all that back at the station tomorrow. Call them from the car?"

"Can do," David said, walking out with him, "and what about the kid? How's he doing?"

Aaron shook his head, "Not well, but can you blame him?"

"Not at all. He's actually held it together longer than most people would have," he turned to Aaron then, "you need to stick close to him, he's going to need you more now then before."

They were at the cars then, Aaron not even giving Derek the chance to argue, led Spencer to the passenger seat of his car then hopped in the drivers side. David guided a quite irate looking Derek to the other car, then both cars left the driveway heading for the hotel. Spencer didn't do much more the whole ride then look out the window, but Aaron held his hand the entire ride back. He needed Spencer to know that no matter what happened with this case, or how much worse it may get, he was not alone.

~~~~~~~~~~~

They arrived at the hotel and went straight to their rooms. They didn't even bother stopping to see if Emily and JJ had arrived yet, Aaron had already decided whatever they had found could wait for tomorrow. His main concern right now was making sure Spencer was okay.

When they reached the hallway where their two rooms were side by side, Derek wasted no time in wrapping a protective arm around Spencer and sharply turning him towards their room. His key card was out before he even reached the door, and without a step of hesitation, the door was open and he was ushering Spencer inside.

Aaron stepped towards the door but Derek had placed himself firmly between him and Spencer, holding the door. "I'll make sure he gets some sleep, good night guys."

And with that firm dismissal, Derek closed the door. Despite the fact that Spencer's eyes never left Aaron's the whole time, and the fact that Aaron so desperately wanted to break the door down and take Spencer back, he couldn't. He didn't want to arouse any suspicion that there might possibly be something there, something between them, especially when they hadn't even had the chance to figure it out on their own yet. Not to mention that he didn't want to put any more stress on Spencer than he already had with this case, so he just resolved himself to turn around and head for his own room.

He all but stormed inside and then just stood, stock still, in the middle of the room with one hand over his face. All he wanted to do was get to Spencer, make sure he was okay and that he had the comfort he needed, but he couldn't do that with Derek as protective as he was. So all he could really do right now was sit in his room and stew.

David on the other hand, had plans of his own. He marched in after Aaron, going straight to his own bed and grabbing his go bag. He quickly packed his few belongings he had spread throughout the room, and walked past Aaron to the door.

"Where are you going?" Aaron asked as he turned back to face him.

"You two are killing me," he shook his head with the smallest hint of a grin, "so trust me on this one. You'll both thank me later."

Without any more explanation than that, he opened the door. And as he was halfway out he stopped, turned back, and said, "Also, I fully and wholeheartedly expect to be the first person invited to this wedding."

Aaron couldn't help but smile and even blush a little as David left. And if he let himself indulge in the thought of that while he stood there and waited, then that would be his own little secret.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Derek was sitting on the edge of his bed, watching with horror as the young genius paced the room with an almost frantic sense. His movements were jolted and his fingers were taping wildly on the sides of his arms as he moved. And Derek, for all that he knew about Spencer, had no idea how to help him right now.

A sudden knock on the door had Derek up and moving, cautious as to not touch or disturb whatever trance Spencer was in, and he opened the door to find David. "Hey, Rossi," he looked down, eyeing the go bag in David's hand then back up with a raised brow, "Something happen? We going somewhere?"

"Not we, just the kid." He walked in past a still very confused Derek and grabbed Spencer's go bag from under his bed, handing it to him. "Up and attem, kid, let's go. The boss is waiting for you."

He had finally stopped his manic pacing and was now racing through the room to gather his things, not even giving a second thought to Derek as he tried several times to stop him. So instead, Derek turned on David, "What exactly is going on here?!"

"We're switching rooms," he shrugged as if it were obvious.

Derek huffed, shoulders tense, "I can see that, Rossi, but why? What's wrong with this one? Why can't he stay with me?"

"Aaron just wants to keep an eye on him, that's all," he tried to ease Derek's mind, but it didn't work.

So as Spencer came out of the bathroom, his now full go bag in hand and heading for the door, he stopped him and said, "Reid, are you sure Hotch isn't giving you a hard time?"

"I'm fine, Morgan, I promise." And he was out of his grasp and heading for the door.

"Kid, you're good with this?! You can stay here you know, I can keep an eye on you too without-" But he was gone, the door closing behind him as he practically ran down the hall. Derek just shook his head and turned back to David. "He really doesn't need to babysit him like this. Reid is fine, he'll be okay. I know this is a rough case for him, it would be for anyone in his situation, but he's got all of us to help him through this. Hotch does not need to keep him on a tight leash and make him feel like he's incapable. And I can make sure Reid's okay just as well as Hotch can."

"I know, Derek, I know you can, but it's not about that. Any of it," he tried to answer as calmly as he could in an attempt to being down Derek's anger, raising both hands to his shoulders, "just let it be, alright, it's not what you think."

"Rossi-"

"Let it go, Derek," he smiled and gave Derek's shoulders a squeeze, "it's nothing bad, Hotch is not giving Spencer a hard time, and he does not think Spencer is incapable of doing his job. The kid's fine, just let him be with Aaron right now."

"Not like I have much say anyways. The kid's already gone," he said, nodding towards the door, "is it me?"

Dave couldn't help but laugh a bit at that, patting Derek's cheek lightly as he replied, "It most definitely is not you."

~~~~~~~~~~~

Since Dave had left, Aaron had also picked up a frantic pacing of his room. And when finally a knock came at the door, he rushed over to open it and let Spencer in.

He was standing in the doorway, go bag in his arms and looking anxious, worried, maybe even a little scared. All of which had Aaron concerned. He wanted to ease Spencer, not make it worse.

"I…" He started, looking down at his shuffling feet as he spoke, "Are you okay with this? Cuz if not I can-"

"I would prefer it this way, actually."

"Good," that brought a small smile to Spencer's lips, the first one Aaron had seen since the start of this case, "me too."

He walked past Aaron and inside the room, taking up the bed that was still made on the left. He quickly grabbed his pjs from his bag along with his toiletries, and excused himself to the bathroom to get ready for bed. Aaron followed suit after Spencer was finished, and when he came out, he hesitated at the edge of his bed for a moment.

He stood and stared at Spencer, Spencer staring right back. It was clear they both had something to say, but neither was sure if it would be okay to say it, worried the other would react in a way that might make things worse. So Aaron just turned away and broke the gaze, getting into bed.

They both said goodnight and Aaron reached between them to turn off the bedside lamp. He turned over, making every effort to try and sleep, but every thought on his mind went to Spencer, every part of his body itched to touch him and hold him like he had earlier. He wanted to run his fingers through his hair and comfort him, make sure Spencer knew that no matter what Aaron was here and he was not going anywhere. And what the hell, maybe David was right, he wouldn't know anything unless he asked.

"Hey, Reid," he turned back over and sat up, seeing Spencer was already in the same position as him, "I know today's been hard for you, so… so if you-" And before he could even finish his sentence, Spencer was up and out of his bed.

Aaron moved back and held the blankets up for Spencer to shuffle under beside him. Spencer had planned on leaving some space between them, not wanting to just barge into Aaron's personal space, and just happy to be in the same bed as him, but Aaron reached over and pulled him against his chest before he could. And Spencer wasn't going to complain or protest.

Aaron laid on his back, tucking Spencer tight against him, his head under his chin and Aaron's arms wrapped tightly around him. Spencer sunk into the warmth and comfort of Aaron's body, digging his nose into his neck and breathing in the smell that was only Aaron, that smell that Spencer found the most comforting thing in the world, and he finally felt himself relaxing for the first time since they landed in California.

They laid like that for some time, just content being together. Aaron ran his fingers through Spencer's hair, whispering to him over and over again the same thing, until he finally heard Spencer's breathing even out and he knew he was asleep. And once more, before he fell asleep himself, he whispered right against Spencer's ear, "I've got you, and I promise I will never let you go."

~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Lots of Hotch and Reid together in this chapter! Let me know what you think <3

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norisxfics · 5 years ago

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NCT 127′s Dorm Maid: Ch.3 - Johnny

Title: NCT 127’s Dorm Maid

Genre: smut

Chapter: 3

Characters: Johnny x OC/reader

Chapter masterlist

Previous Chapter

Contains: fingering, thigh riding, slight choking, dom johnny, squirting

Summary: When NCT’s Dorm maid falls ill, her niece takes her place and becomes NCT’s new dorm maid. NCT weren’t unfamiliar with the girl as she has substituted for her aunt many times before. But this time it was different, this time she was going to become their permanent dorm maid as her aunt was forced to retire because of her health. NCT members quickly grow fond of the girl, but little did she know this also meant that she was going to be a hell of a lot more busy than she expected.

Authors Note: It would be really nice and appreciated if you guys could reblog this if you enjoyed it so that I can get more readers. Liking a post shows me you enjoy it but no one will ever see a content creators content if all you guys do is like the post. Especially now since I’ve heard the tags are being fucked up and not all posts are showing up in the tags

When the boys found out I also play video games on my time off we would often play together online whenever we weren’t busy. We mostly played games like PUBG and other FPS games, sometimes MMO’s. Haechan was the one who most often played with me, he would thank me for playing with him and then proceed to whine about how sometimes the boys won’t play with him even if they’ve got nothing going on. It was cute.

Often times when I’m doing my job he would ask me to watch him play or join him. I would usually tell him to wait until I finish my job but then he would whine and hug my arm, trying to act cute, as he would beg me “It’s just for a few minutes!” It never did end up being only a “few minutes” but I guess you could say those moments are like a break for me.

This time it was both Johnny and Haechan asking me to watch and play with them. I would often help Haechan out as well whenever they played games going against each other I would even lean over Haechan to show him some tricks on the keyboard he could use in the game, Johnny would call it cheating, but I would fight him back saying there was no rules against assisting.

“Noona, you play for me, show him how hard you can beat him like you did to me the other day,” Haechan got off his chair and I chuckled “don’t mind if I do, time to get wrecked Johnny,” I took my place in the chair and started a round with Johnny, and let’s just say that I totally wrecked Johnny. When the round was over Haechan high-fived me and and Johnny let out a sigh “You only won because I let you,”

“Only a sore loser would try to claim that,” I gave a wink and smirked at him, he raised a brow at me.

“I have to go, the dreamies wanna hang out, you guys have fun!” Haechan said as he grabbed his phone in wallet, sliding them into his pockets.

“Bye Haechan, have fun,” I turned to Johnny when he left and smirked “one more round?” Johnny immediately sat up on his chair and we started yet another round. Guess who won?

That’s right me.

“Hah! Get wrecked Johnny, I just made you my bitch,” I gave him a smug smirk and dusted off the non-existent dust off my shoulders. I stood up and fixed my skirt “anyway, I should get back to work, I’ll let you cry it out while I clean,” As I turned to walk away Johnny grabbed my wrist and I turned to him. He stared at me with a brow raised “hold on just a minute, who said you’re dismissed?”

“Huh? I mean, I have to get my work done...”

“You work for us so you answer to us, besides I have somethings to talk about with you,”

“Well, technically I work for SM, SM is the one sending me payche-”

He rolled his eyes, suddenly pulling me to sit on his thigh “First of all I’d like to talk about what you’re wearing today, it’s kind of inappropriate don’t you think? Wearing a short skirt while doing a job that requires bending over a lot,” I had forgotten about that honestly, I intentionally wore a skirt to catch their attention. Ever since that day with Mark my sexual demon that I’ve been suppressing as been slowly coming out. It was exciting, that night, the risk of getting caught, it excited me.

I wanted to tease the boys.

I wanted the excitement.

But I had forgotten about all that while we were playing games, so I was now genuinely surprised.

“Um...well, I can exp-”

“Who said you could talk? I’m not done,”

He gripped onto my thigh, hand slowly moving up “not to mention your actions today as well, the way you were on your knees earlier, wiping the floor in front of me, I bet you did that on purpose, you wanted me to see didn’t you?”

He was absolutely right on point, when I was cleaning the floor I lifted my ass up more when I saw Johnny enter the room, I wanted him to look at me.

I subconsciously licked over my bottom lip, biting down on it as his hand moved up my skirt and over to my ass, while his other hand moved to caress my cheek “and what was that just now hmm? Bending over in excuse to help Haechan, your ass right in my face, you’re just asking for it aren’t you?”

I didn’t answer, I was too distracted by his dark and firm tone of voice. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t wet right now.

His hand soon moved to my throat, thumb caressing against my jawline before he gave a small squeeze to my throat “Answer me.”

I tried so hard not to squirm “Y-yes,”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Sir...”

He gave my ass a squeeze, his other and moved to the back of my head, pulling me closer to him as his lips lingered over mine for a moment, half lidded eyes looking down into mine before his lips finally connected with mine. Our lips moved in unison as a it slowly get deeper, and more desperate, more desperate from my side that is. My hips involuntarily began to move, grinding against his thigh in a slow pace.

Johnny broke the kiss and mumbled “eager little kitten aren’t you?” he gave my ass another squeeze as he encouraged me to continue riding out his thigh. I held onto his shoulders as my gaze went back to his lips, our lips soon connected again, resuming back into a heated kiss. He tightened his thigh muscle, pushing his thigh up against me, a whimper leaving my lips and into the kiss.

“Fuck you’re so wet right now baby girl, it’s leaking through your panties,” I could feel my cheeks turn red “such a dirty little girl,” he smacked my ass and I jumped a little, biting down on my lip “you like that huh?” he smirked and I nodded.

He buried his face in the crook of my neck, kissing and softly sucking on the skin. I let out a soft quiet moan, followed by another as he spanked me again before gripping my hips, pushing my down harder against his thigh. My hips began to move more eagerly against him.

He then held my hips in place and I let out a whimper as he stopped me.

“Stand up,” he ordered.

And so I did. I stood in front of him.

“Lift your skirt up for me, baby”

I gripped onto the hem of my skirt, lifting it up from him to see me white lace panties. He tapped my inner thigh, I took that as a signal to spread my legs more, so I did. He hooked his fingers into my panties and tug them half way down my thighs.

“What was that you said earlier? That I’m you’ve made me your bitch?”

His fingers slipped between my thighs, softly grazing over my wet folds.

“I think you got it all wrong, because I just made you my bitch,”

I shuddered at his words. I was a huge sub and Johnny seemed to know that. I guess a dom will always know a sub when he sees one, right?

His middle finger slipped in between my fold as he dragged it from my entrance to my clit, teasing it a bit before he paused.

“Want me to keep touching you? To make you feel good?”

I nodded “Yes, sir,”

“Then tell me who’s dirty little bitch are you?”

“Yours, sir”

“My what?”

“I’m your dirty little bitch,”

“Good girl,”

I let out a whimper when those two small words came out of his own mouth. He began to rub my clit, pressing his fingers against it, he moved his fingers in a circular motion pressing firmly against me. I gripped tightly onto my skirt, pursing my lips to muffle my moans.

Hi moved his finger between my folds and began to tease my entrance “you’re such a little whore, getting so damn,” he pushed his finger into me, a moan escaping my lips “wet for me,” his finger pumped inside of me, pressing against my wet walls.

“What am I gonna do with you?”

He added a second digit into me, pumping his fingers faster and harder inside of me. I let out a louder moan, covering my mouth quickly with one hand.

“Even your moans sound so dirty,” he chuckled. He curled his fingers up against my walls, finding my sweet spot. I bit into my hand to muffle my moans and whimpers. My hips were shaking and it was becoming hard to stay on my feet.

“Do you wanna come for me, baby?”

“Y-yes sir...”

“Then beg for it,”

His fingers began to move painfully slow, I let out a whine in protest “Please...please don’t stop, please let me cum daddy,”

“daddy huh? I like the way it sounds coming from your dirty little whore mouth, say it again,”

“fuck, daddy please, please make me cum for you daddy,” I begged desperately, as I squirmed.

“Good girl,”

He inserted a third digit and began to roughly and quickly thrust his fingers into me, making to to curl them against my sweet spot, hitting it repeatedly I gripped onto his arm, moaning loudly, forgetting to keep myself quiet, as my body shook with pleasure, my walls tightening around his fingers as I reached my climax.

My juices squirting out onto his hand and onto the floor.

“Fuck...you’re squirter huh?”

He pulled his fingers out and I sunk down onto my knees, catching my breath. I looked up at him to see him licking his fingers clean as he grabbed his phone before pointing it at me “can I take a picture? You know, in memory of who exactly wrecked who tonight,” he smirked down at me and I blushed.

“I’ll take your silence as a yes?” He held the phone up at and angle and took a photo. I didn’t mind of course, or I would have said no.

“You should clean your mess up and get back to work,”

I nodded.

I had a feeling he was going to start teasing me about this, and I was right. The next time I played a game with him and Haechan online and “get wrecked” would be mentioned, he would text me the photo with a reminder “You mean like how you got wrecked the other night?”

#dorm maid #nct maid #nct 127 #nct #nct smut #nct 127 smut #johnny smut #nct johnny #nct johnny smut #johnny suh #haechan smut #my fic #my story #fanfic #nct fanfic #nct 127 fanfic #nct127 fanfic #kpop smut #kpop fanfic

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anotherhamiltonblog · 4 years ago

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Foreign Touch ch 2

Chapter Summary: Thomas needs a favor, but will Adeline give him the chance to ask? What could Thomas want?

Warnings: Once again, I didn’t proofread. Sorry <3 some cute shit, but y’all will see for yourself. HEHE

Word Count: 1,230(Give or take... idk i forgot)

Previously

Y/N didn’t know why, but she found herself always running from Thomas Jefferson. It wasn’t that she personally had anything against the man, Y/N just didn’t want the unnecessary drama that comes her way because of her brother. Alex was many things, one of those many things was him being a total drama queen. It was quite sad really, that the man would actually bitch and complain to her about Thomas and blah blah blah.

Sighing, Y/N looked at her phone for a few minutes before shoving it back into her pocket. Fixing the strap of her bag over her shoulder, Y/N made her way to the football field where cheer practice was taking place. She had just come tutoring a few kids a grade below her and so Y/N was trying her hardest to try and rush so she wouldn’t be even more late.

“Y/N! Yo, wait up!” a voice called out to her, turning to see the one and only Thomas Jefferson. Y/N shook her head.

“No can do! I’m late already. Byeee!” She waved her hands and rushed even faster.

Making it out on the field, glad she changed into her workout clothes before going to tutor, the h/c girl shrugged out of her jacket and threw it down to the ground along with her bag and rushed over to be with the rest of the cheer squad.

“Hamilton! You’re late!” the coach yelled out to her, raising an eyebrow, stopping Y/N from giving an excuse as to why she was late. “Two laps around the field. GO!”

With a sgh, Y/N started her run. Honestly, she should have seen this coming. Y/N missed the warm-ups and so this was going to be the closest thing to a warm-up she would get.

Tying up her hair in a tight ponytail as she started out in a slow jog, Y/N pulled off her oversized shirt, so she was wearing just her purple racerback sports bra crop and black leggings. Shirt held tightly in her hand; Y/N was slowly gaining speed as she ran. Focusing on her breathing. Never realizing the football team coming out onto the field as she was in her zone.

It wasn’t till after her run and joining the rest of her squad did Y/N finally see the guys of the team. They were doing their own workout on the other side of the field.

Catching a certain males eye, Y/N looked away and started on the cheer they had been practicing for a while.

“Y/N! Top of the pyramid!” “Nicole! Lift her foot higher!” “Brenda! Put your back into those flips!” “Dylan! YOU ALMOST DROPPED Y/N CAREFUL!”

Those were the commands from Coach Stone. By the time 5 o’clock hit, the girls and guys of the cheer squad were out of breath.

“Good job everyone! At this rate we’ll be ready for the first game of the season this Friday!”

With that said, everyone made their way to their things to make their way home after a tough practice.

“Damn, y’all almost looked like you worked out as hard as us.” a voice caught her attention, making Y/N snap her head up at the source. Only to narrow her eyes.

“Oh please, you and your little buddies couldn’t do what we do if you even tried.” she smirked and shrugged, pulling her shirt over her sweaty body and tugging her jacket over it. The cold wind caused goosebumps to form over her arms.

“Anyways, as awesome as it’s been to talk to you... Oh wait, it hasn’t been awesome. Bye now!” Y/N laughed and grabbed her bag before starting to walk away.

“Yo, Y/N wait up. I need a favor to ask you!” Thomas called out after her, yet as he stepped closer to the girl. His coach called him back to the field.

That just caused Y/N to laugh and make her way to the parking lot where her car was waiting for her. It was Wednesday and all Y/N wanted to do was go home, shower, eat and watch T.V. Seeing as she finished her homework while she was tutoring.

»»-————　♡　————-««

Being in an empty house, freshly showered with only a night gown on and her robe on covering her night wear. Y/N found herself in the kitchen, stirring the pasta sauce she had been making for her dinner. Her parents were out for a date night, Alex was with John. Y/N was glad she could have some down time.

Hearing a ping from her phone, the girl sighed and went to check who was bothering her. Not knowing who the heck the number belonged to that was looking for her.

After seeing who was texting her, Y/N was quick to tell them that she was not the person they were looking for and silenced her phone.

After having her pasta and cleaning up the kitchen. Y/N groaned when she saw that Thomas wouldn’t stop messaging her. Blocking his number, Y/N tossed her phone to the side and wrapped a blanket around her body. Turning on Supernatural on the tv, she cuddled into the blanket and pillow before laying on the couch and watched the show.

It wasn’t much longer that Y/N felt her eyes drop close and she fell asleep.

Laughing and running around, holding a water gun, Y/N ran away from someone. The two laughing and she hid behind a tree.

“THAT’S IT… I CHALLENGE YOU TO A DUAL.” Y/N yelled out and smirked at the male before her.

His curly hair was dripping wet, curls perfectly forming around his face as he stood there shirtless. Thomas raised his eyebrow as he eyed her. “A dual?” he asked grinning. Watching as Y/N nodded grinning.

“Mmhm… each of us get a water balloon. Take ten steps from each other. On ten, we turn and throw the water balloon.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

That’s how the two found themselves holding a water balloon. Thomas holding a purple one while Y/N held a green on. Each balloon filled with water.

“One”

“Two”

“Three”

“Four”

“Five”

“Six”

“Seven”

“Eight”

“Nine”

“Ten paces… FIRE!” They yelled and at the same time the two threw the balloon and as if it was all in slow motion. The green balloon hit Thomas right across the face while Y/N managed to dodge the purple one.

“That’s it sweetheart! You’re gonna get it!”

With wide eyes, Y/N dashed off laughing and squealing as she tried to escape Thomas’ hands, sadly for Y/N she fell down and Thomas was on top of her tickling her until she was out of breath.

“You give up?” he asked, laughing as she squirmed underneath him.

“YES! “was all Y/N could respond with in-between her laughter.

When Thomas stopped, he leaned forward, grinning at Y/N until their lips were almost touching. “I win sweetheart…” he whispered, and their lips connected.

Gasping and sitting up, Y/N looked around the dark living room. Wondering where the hell that dream came from and why Jefferson out of all people. Glaring as Dean Winchester was lip-locking with some girl on her screen. Y/N got up from her bed and shut the tv off, muttering under her breath that it was Deans fault for that dream.

Little did she know that a few streets away at the Jefferson household, a certain boy was sitting up on the couch thinking about the dream he just had. Confused as well.

Next Chapter

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itmighthavebeenintentional · 5 years ago

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Walk Me Home - Ch 3

Summary: Twenty-four years ago, Kimberly Harper met a boy who changed the course of her entire life before up and leaving one night. She spent years moving past the memories, building a stable, satisfying career as professor of folklore and mythology at the local university. Then the accidents start, and she’s forced to seek help among her hunter contacts. All it takes is a knock on her office door to send Kimber’s carefully built emotional walls crumbling to the ground.

Featuring: Teen Winchesters, high school romance, reunions, misunderstandings, high intensity emotional turmoil, Dean’s love of pie, Dean being adorable, Sam being adorable and maybe a bit nosy eventually, much group adorkable-ness, show-style investigation, mention of our favorite werewolf, gratuitous and obvious love of fall, DID I MENTION ROMANCE, fluff, smut, tension.

Warnings: Show level violence, show level parental neglect (let’s not John bash, I’m just saying), show-style witchcraft, show-level mental manipulation, stalking, bit of angst, sexual content (higher than show level),swearing, general yearning

Word Count: 3422

Author’s Note: Mega thanks to @mskathywriteswords , @fangirlxwritesx67, and @cracksinthewalls for editing, revision, flailing, and generally knocking sense into me when I’m being stubborn. You all made this story way better than it started it, and I love you. Thanks to everyone who read/reblogged/liked the first chapter. I hope you enjoy the story as much as I do.

@thoughtslikeaminefield , babe, I love you, and I love this story so much.

Keep in Mind: There are a lot of flashbacks. I tried to write current events in present tense and flashbacks in past tense. Here’s hoping I got everything right!

Please read/heed the warnings. 18+ ONLY.

In Case You Missed It: Ch 1 | Ch 2 ItMightHaveBeenIntentional’s Masterlist

Chapter 3

“Breathe, sweetheart, take a deep breath and hold it. Watch me, follow my breathing.” Dean’s hands, warm and solid against her clammy skin, hold her face so she has no choice but to look right at him.

His eyes pierce the haze of fear that locks her lungs, and she pulls in her first shaking breath since she spotted the doll. She must have screamed, because one moment she was alone with the damned thing, and the next he was by her side, pulling her out of the room.

“Come with me, we’re getting out of here. Right now.” In a habit that miraculously stayed with her since she first knew him, Kimber stumbles after Dean, her fingers clutching his with a level of desperation that would leave her shamed if she had the thought capacity to care right now.

They’re out the front door, in his car, and speeding away before she even realizes he’s on the phone.

“Yeah, Sam, I saw the doll on her bed. Front door was definitely locked when we got there, but I didn’t get a chance to check the windows or back door. She’s talked to the cops before this, they didn’t do shit then, but maybe now that the bastard actually went in her house. I’m taking her back to the motel.”

He’s silent for a long moment, listening intently, his lips pressed thin and tense. Her face is wet, and she realizes she’s crying. She takes a moment to wipe away the tears streaming from her eyes, discreetly clearing her throat. She has a strange, disconnected moment of panic when she realizes she left her purse in the house and the door unlocked, but she shoves the words back down her throat so fast she nearly chokes.

That horrible...thing...on her bed, and she’s worried about her purse?!

Priorities, Kimber, she scolds herself. Dean is talking when she comes back to the moment, and she catches him mid-sentence.

“-agree with Kimber, I think it’s probably a witch. Gonna check for hex bags, ask her about anybody that might have a motive. We’ll go over her house when you get here, but I’m gonna try to keep her out of sight in the meantime. Don’t have a tail, but I’ll keep an eye on the way to the motel. See ya in the morning.”

He hangs up, eyes flicking over to Kimber then back to the road.

“How you holdin’ up?” The genuine concern in his voice breaks through the worst of her panic, giving her something other than her growing dread to focus on.

“I...I’ve been better. I mean, I know that nothing actually happened, but...Dean, I-”

“Oh, no, I totally get it,” he says, his eyebrows rising high on his forehead. “Fucking dolls, I hate ‘em. That creepy shit absolutely ain’t right. Anyway, we had no idea if someone was still at your place. Better to high-tail it, regroup, and plan than get stuck in a shootout with somethin’ that might not even go down with a bullet or five in it. You heard me talkin’ to Sam?”

She nods, doing her best to hide her sniffling. Without a word, he opens the glove box, pulls out a napkin, and hands it to her. She takes it gratefully, failing in her attempt to discreetly blow her nose while boxed into a moving vehicle.

“Thanks. The thing is, though, as far as I know, nobody has a motive to want to hurt me.”

This time he only lifts one eyebrow. “You, a college professor in a highly specialized academic area that’s typically full of eccentrics at best and nutbags at worst, have no students with chips on their shoulders? No jealous colleagues? Never forgot to tip the barista or leave a Christmas bonus for the janitors? Really?”

Her face heats up. She’s thinking like a scared kid, and she should know better. She may not be a hunter, but she knows the lore, knows the signs, and she really should know better.

“Okay, you’re right, you’re right. I’m not thinking clearly. Just...gimme a sec to get my head on straight.”

She sucks in a sharp, deep breath through her nose, focusing on a droplet of water that’s sliding down her window. She presses air slowly from her lungs, watching the drop gain speed as it joins with more water dotting the outside of the glass, repeating the process until the raindrop slips off the window and her thoughts are focused again.

“I haven’t actually had to fail anyone in my classes lately, but I suppose someone could have held a grudge from previous semesters or just not been satisfied with a lower passing grade. As far as I know, no one in the department is jealous of my position. I’m not really anything special, literally just a glorified storyteller. I’m not on any boards or committees, I haven’t received any awards in a few semesters. No particular nutbags lately, but…”

She frowns as he pulls the car into a motel parking lot. Something is tugging at the back of her mind, an almost non-incident from a few Thursdays ago. She’d dismissed the conversation as random but harmless, but even the smallest details could be life or death. She’s been shown this over and over in her dealings with hunters. It’s about time she learned from other people’s mistakes.

“There was something, a few weeks ago, but I can’t quite remember,” she says, frustrated at how inadequate her memory is proving at the moment. The vestiges of panic still cling to the edges of her mind, leaving her thoughts scrambled and disjointed.

“Think on it. Let’s get checked in, get somethin’ to eat, and you can tell me then,” Dean offers.

She smiles her appreciation at the reprieve and climbs out of the car to follow Dean into the motel office. She uses the time Dean spends, first talking and then arguing with the clerk, to jog her memory, trying to recall everything she can about her encounter at the end of a self-defense class the previous month.

It had seemed so harmless at the time, and nothing odd happened afterwards. At least, not that night. But as she stands next to Dean, straining her memory, she realizes Helen’s accident was just two days later. Her unseen watcher trailed her for the first time a week after Helen’s fall. Then Professor Lawrence a few days after that, and just last week Allen and the stapler.

She feels the heat of shame flooding her face. She’s a researcher by profession. How did she never put the pattern together? People have been hurt, nearly died, because she was too stupid to connect some dots?

“I connect dots for a goddamn living,” she mutters to herself, earning her an odd glance from Dean. He turns back to the clerk, who shrugs.

“Take it or leave, sir.”

“Fine,” Dean growls, shoving a credit card at the man. Five minutes later, Dean unlocks the door to a room with two queen-size beds whose decor calls strongly back to a decade long past and best forgotten.

“I think they decorated this place before we were born,” she murmurs, earning her a tired smile from Dean. “At least it’s clean?”

He nods, tossing his bag on the bed nearest the window. “Sorry we have to share, they’re full up. Some sort of convention in town?”

She hesitates, her stomach fluttering uneasily at the thought of a wall between her and Dean. “I don’t mind. I think...maybe it’s safer this way, in one room. I would offer to get dinner, since you paid for the room, but…” She trails off, empty hands spread at her sides.

“Not a problem,” he says, dropping down on the bed and reaching for the phone. “Know anywhere good that delivers?”

Forty minutes and two cheeseburger combos later, Dean lifts her reprieve and presses her for information again. The food helped ground Kimber’s jittery brain, and she’s thinking clearly for the first time since she spotted the doll.

“A few weeks ago, after self-defense class concluded, a guy came up to me. I’d never noticed him before, I thought he was new, but he said he’d seen me a few times and wanted to know if i would go get coffee with him. I wouldn’t have said yes, regardless, because...I mean, picking up dates at a self-defense class? Feels kinda predatory.”

Dean nods, lips pursed as he listens. He’s stretched out on his bed while she’s opted to sit in one of the two chairs by the table a few feet away. Kimber scrubs her face with her hands before running them back through her hair.

“I just...I got this weird vibe off him, though, Dean. He may have found me attractive, I don’t know, but I seriously doubt it. He didn’t really want to ask me out. I have no clue why he asked; I could tell he wasn’t into me. He wouldn’t meet my eyes, his face was kind of stoney the whole time? Almost like someone put him up to it even though he really didn’t want to?”

Dean frowns, just as perplexed as she is.

She sighs, resting her chin in her palms and elbows on her knees. “I know. He was acting just a little too off. On top of that, I didn’t know him at all, so I turned him down. I wasn’t rude, at least I don’t think I was. He just accepted it, though; he didn’t push or even look upset. He didn’t really look anything at all. He just left. I didn’t see him in class again after that, and, honestly, I’m certain I had never seen him before.”

Dean rubbed the stubble on his chin thoughtfully, eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t...I mean, yeah, maybe. A strong maybe,” he conceded. “But we need more information. Even if that guy is our perp, we need to find out more about what’s actually going on. Sam can help me look over your place tomorrow; you and I can search your office. We should check out the other accident scenes. Did anyone else in your class see the guy or talk to him?”

“Maybe the teacher?” Kimber offers, stifling a yawn. She’s weary to the bone and suspects she may still be feeling the after-effects of shock. She stands, intending to hit the shower in the bathroom, when she remembers just how quickly they had to leave her house.

“Um...Dean, I didn’t get to...we left my place so quickly. Do you have anything to wear that I could...borrow?” She doesn’t mean to sound so hesitant and vulnerable, but her emotional filter is fading with her energy, and she doesn’t have it in her to put up a tough front.

His eyes widen, and he jumps up from the bed to rifle through his sports bag. He reaches out, holding what looks like a white t-shirt and pajama pants. She takes a step towards him to accept them just as he moves over to meet her, and they both stop just shy of a full-body collision.

His fingers brush her skin as she accepts the clothes, and she’s annoyed at how her hands tremble from the brief touch. Her eyes flick up to find him watching her, his color high and lips parted. His hands close more solidly around hers, fingers rough and welcome against her wrists. Her pulse quickens, and that cold spot near her heart ratchets up a couple more degrees.

His pupils dilate in response, black circles swallowing the mossy irises. Dean’s tongue flashes over his lower lip as he swallows convulsively, and her eyes track the movement. She wonders for the span of a single breath if he still tastes the way she remembers. It would be so easy to find out; just step in, drop the clothes.

All she has to do, really, is reach out.

…

Her fingers paused halfway between them, hesitating. He glanced up from his plate of pie, eyeing her curiously. Feeling suddenly, deliciously brave, she brushed her thumb over his lower lip, swiping a bit of whipped cream he’d unknowingly smeared there. She sucked her thumb for just a moment, self-consciously looking away as her cheeks blazed red.

She’d never been so forward before, brazen even, and while she was proud of her courage, she was still shocked she’d had such nerve. She risked a peek at him across the table just in time to see him flick his own tongue over the exact spot her thumb had just been. He caught his lower lip under his teeth, grinning at her, somehow looking just as flushed and off-balance as she felt.

“You, uh...taste good,” he murmured, eyes shining. She couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled up at his sweet, simple sincerity.

“You do, too.”

They had finished tutoring early, and it was only their second week. Dean was keeping up just fine in class, so she was more than happy to accept his invitation for a snack at the nearby diner. The day was pretty warm for mid-September, and they were technically still supposed to be at the library, so she asked if he’d like to maybe take a walk and talk some more.

“You’re just using me for my stories,” he said with a mock pout as they strolled down the sidewalk. “Is that all I am to you? A source of entertainment?”

“Dean, you’re the best show on. I wouldn’t even skip the reruns.” She felt so light around him, so comfortable and giddy all at once, like he was sucking the oxygen from her atmosphere while giving it right back to her all at once.

Just when she felt like her chest might burst holding all this inside, she reached out and linked her fingers through his. She felt a slight falter in his stride (or maybe she imagined it), and they walked on. She asked him about his family. He told her less about his Dad, more about his little brother, and nothing about his mom, but mostly he asked questions.

What did she like to read? Where was the best pie in town, because that place was not it. Where did she have her favorite birthday party growing up? What did she want to do when she graduated? Favorite family vacation? Favorite holiday? Was it as awesome being an only child as it seemed, or were there actually drawbacks he didn’t know about? What did she really think of his jacket, be honest?

Eventually, they found themselves back at her house, not quite time for her to be home yet. She was reluctant to say good-bye, and if his grip on her hand was any indication, so was he.

“I know!” she said suddenly. She tugged his arm, leading the way around her house and into the backyard. Neither of her parents were home from work, so she didn’t have to worry about their well-meaning interrogation as to why she was dragging the new boy around by the arm.

“Ta-da!” She spread her arms wide, grinning as she indicated the treehouse she and her dad had built together only a few years earlier. “Best craftsmanship, all the comforts of home, minus electricity, heat, air conditioning, and plumbing!”

“You mean it’ll hold us both, and there's some pillows and blankets up there?” He laughed, his grin growing as she glowed back at him.

“You get me so well!” she squealed, grabbing his hand and tugging him forward again. “Come on!”

Though the structure swayed ever so slightly, it didn’t embarrass her by creaking, and there was plenty of room for the two of them to prop up against one of the walls, stretching their legs out on the nest of cushions and blankets she kept up there during good weather.

Rather than settling down, her heart began to beat against her ribs so loudly she was certain Dean could hear it. Her shoulder brushed his, and she could feel every minute shift of his body. Her nostrils flared a little as she steeled herself and turned to meet his intent gaze.

“I would really love to kiss you right now,” he said, his voice low and velvet soft.

“Does that usually work on girls?” she asked breathlessly, her eyes glued to his impossibly lush mouth.

“Why, is it working on you?” The raw want in his voice was unmistakable, even to her inexperienced ears. No boy had ever looked at her the way Dean was right now, as if he’d never seen anyone else he’d rather kiss. He reached up, slid his fingers into her hair, thumb brushing her cheekbone.

“Yeah, it, um...it really is.”

He tasted of cherry pie and coffee. Years later, she would recognize that kiss as the moment her dependency on the caffeinated beverage began, but at the time, she wouldn’t have recognized her own mother. His lips moved gently, so tenderly it stole her breath and made some random spot in her chest clench painfully.

She turned, leaning across him, almost on her knees. Her fingers slid over the impossibly silky bristles on the back of his neck. He shivered under her touch, lips parting from hers as he sucked in a sharp pull of air.

“Kimber,” he murmured, eyes closed. She nudged the tip of his nose with her own, her eyes fluttering shut as she pressed the smallest of kisses to the corner of his lips. Dean’s breath caught, and then he pulled her up into his lap suddenly, tilting her head just so before claiming her mouth again.

She didn’t know how long they sat in the treehouse exactly like that, learning each other’s contours and tastes, trading kisses and caresses but nothing more, until she heard the front door of the house close.

Kimber jerked upright, shocked as if she’d been dashed with a bucket of ice water. She’d honestly forgotten there was a whole world that existed outside the two of them in the treehouse. The sun was much lower in the sky, almost gone in fact.

“It’s almost dark, Dean, I have to go inside.” She spoke reluctantly, the words pulled out against her will. She didn’t ever want to be responsible, even indirectly, for telling Dean he had to leave.

Dean’s chest rose and fell rapidly, one hand holding tight to her waist as the other began to reluctantly untangle from her hair. He leaned forward, brushed her lips with his one last time before wordlessly encouraging her to put herself to rights.

Kimber checked the backyard to make sure the coast was clear before leading Dean down the ladder to the ground.

“If you go that way,” she said, pointing out a thin spot in the hedge at the far side of her yard, “it’ll take you right out to Evergreen Drive. One more block over, and you’ll be on the same street as the school.” He nodded, glancing in the direction before turning back to her.

God, his eyes.

She was frozen to the spot and on fire all at once. In all her seventeen years, she’d never felt anything as intense as Dean just looking at her. How did he do that?

“I think I’m going to, uh...need a few more study sessions,” he said softly. “We might need to really get...in depth with the material.” This time his smile was a little shy, a lot less cocky than the first time she worked with him. And yet there was a mischievous glint in his eyes that let her know Dean Winchester would absolutely be worth every bit of trouble he got her into.

“I’ll see you at school tomorrow,” she said, intentionally not addressing his statement. For one thing, she didn’t think she could match his level of casual innuendo without sounding like a complete idiot. For another, she didn’t trust herself to respond without turning bright red.

She turned towards her house when Dean seized her hand, yanked her carefully back, and caught her face between both of his palms. This time the kiss was blazing, not a trace of the gentleness from the last hour, and when he finally released her, she stood dazed and shaken, staring at him completely unfocused.

“See ya,” he said. He grinned as he released her and turned, loping across her yard with an easy grace before disappearing into the hedge. ...

Chapter 4

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what-is-your-plan-today · 5 years ago

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Riding High Ch 3: Chicken Wings and Confessions

Chapter Summary: Fliss heads to Franks and Mary’s for a cookout, and they both learn a little bit more about the other’s troubled past.

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words.

Chapter Pairings: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

A/N: Again, as you will all know I’m a Brit so apologies if too much British horsey lingo slips into this…ASK away if you don’t understand. Tagging all my SSB/CSI readers…if you want in or off the list PLEASE just tell me. This chapter is a bit of a filler, things start getting a bit more interesting in the next one, and then we’ll be diving into the Gifted story line in Chapter 4.

As always I’m a ho for a REBLOG and COMMENT!

Chapter Song: Fighter by Christina Aguilera

Series Masterlist Main Masterlist

“Frank goes out most Fridays, but Saturday we hang out.”” Mary said, explaining about her weekends to Fliss as she sat on the chair with her juice box. Mary had finished her riding lesson roughly 15 minutes ago and they were now sat in Fliss’ office waiting for Frank to finish working on the tractor. Fliss had noticed instantly that Mary’s demeanour around the 2 other girls on her lesson had changed, she had become a lot more introvert. Almost like the children bored her so to speak. It had surprised Fliss a little, as normally it was the other way round, kids happy to be outgoing with people their own age and more reserved with grown-ups. But she had ignored it and introduced the 3 girls to one another, simply carrying on as normal. Mary had simply focussed on her riding, not really speaking to the other kids. Fliss was starting to understand now why Frank thought she needed to socially interact a little more with children. “That’s cool.” Fliss smiled “So what are you doing tonight then?” “He said he was gonna do a BBQ.” Mary said, “Roberta’s coming over. She’s our neighbour. She turns up uninvited all the time so Frank said we might as well ask her if she wanted to come as she’d just rock up anyway.”

Fliss grinned “Is Frank any good with BBQs?”

“He BBQs better than he cooks.” Mary answered and Fliss chuckled. “But that’s because it’s not really cooking is it? It’s just heating meat to a temperature so that all the bacteria is killed.”

“Talking about me again?” Frank leaned in the doorway of the office, wiping his hands on an old rag.

“She was just telling me about your cooking.” Frank snorted “Yeah it’s not much to write home about.” “It’s bad.” Mary shrugged “Unless you get it out of a jar.” At that Fliss tipped her head back in a loud laugh. “Oh God…”

Frank shook his head smiling to himself before he changed the subject. “Tractor’s all done.” “You, Sailor are a God send.” she smiled “What do I owe you?” “Nothing” Frank shook his head “I had the parts lying around so…” Fliss frowned, before she smirked at him “ok then, today’s lesson is on me again.” Frank looked away shaking his head before he turned back, smiling “That’s how it is?” “That’s how it is.” she nodded.

“Alright, quid-pro-quo.” he said, tucking the rag he had been using into his back pocket.

“What are you doing tonight?” Mary asked and Fliss smiled.

“Well my Mum and Dad are away so I have the house to myself. So I’ll probably grab a beer, lay by the pool for a bit and then…” “You have a pool?” Mary’s eyes widened, cutting her off.

“My mum and dad do.” Fliss said.

“That’s so cool.” she looked at Frank “Why can’t we have a pool?” “We do…” “A communal one.” Mary rolled her eyes “ A private one is way cooler.” “Yeah, well, sorry life is such a disappointment to you.” Frank looked at her, Mary rolled her eyes and Fliss smiled at the easy to-and-froing that was going on between the two. “And here’s another disappointment, time to go.”

“Why?”

“Because you’ve taken up enough of Miss Gallagher’s…” “Fliss…” “Fliss’ time, and I need to get to the store if you wanna eat anything tonight.”

Mary grumbled but stood up and trudged slowly towards the door.

“Before you go do you wanna book in for next week?” Fliss asked.

“You gonna let me pay for that one?” Frank looked at her.

“Depends if I find anything else for you to fix.” she shot back, Frank snorted and shook his head. “Same time?” He nodded “That’s great, thanks.” “No problem.”

She bid them both goodbye and Frank and Mary made their way to the truck.

“Do you not think Miss Gallagher might be lonely tonight?” Mary asked Frank suddenly.

“Lonely?” Frank looked at her, “Why do you think she might be lonely?”

“Because she’s on her own, at home.” Mary shrugged “her parents have been away since yesterday. And she told me that she doesn’t have a lot of friends round here.”

“Neither do you.” Frank looked at Mary.

Mary scoffed “I have you and Roberta, and Fred…” “Well then Fliss has her family, her horses…” “But why not us?” “I’m not following?” Frank shook his head. “I mean why can’t we be her friends?” “Well, we are.” he said, “Sorta, anyway.” “So why doesn’t she come round tonight as well?”

“Well, I…” Frank he paused and looked up. He’d only know the woman a week but he couldn’t deny he liked her company. They chatted a little over text each night and again when in person but he didn’t know her in any detail… well, not yet anyway. He was hoping he would in time because he found her a breath of fresh air to be around. She was someone who didn’t know anything about him, his life. She took him for who he was and he liked that. He looked back down at Mary “you think she’d wanna come?”

Mary shrugged before she hopped round to the other side of the truck. Frank patted the roof and leaned through the open window of the driver’s side. “Wait here a minute…” he said, before he turned and walked back onto the yard.

“Fliss?” he called and she turned to face him.

“Forget something?” she asked, smiling.

“No, well kinda, erm, look. If you want, only if you want, you’re welcome to join us tonight. It won’t be much, but…” “I wasn’t angling for an invite.” she said shaking her head.

“No, I know…” he assured her “But the offer’s there if you fancy it. Although my limits are burgers, sausages and steak.”

“No chicken wings?” she frowned “What kind of BBQ is that?” “You want chicken wings, you can bring them.” he laughed.

She looked at him for a second before she smiled “Alright, deal.”

“Say about half 5? Will you be done here or…”

“I can get one of the girls to close up.” she smiled. “Half 5 is fine.” “Ok, well I’ll text you the address.” he said with a nod “It’s not hard to find, we live in the prefabs near the dock so…”

He trailed off, waiting for the usual judgmental look that came with that but it never arrived. Fliss smiled and nodded.

“Near the dock huh.” she grinned “That’s pretty cool.”

“Well it means the commute to work is acceptable” he said and Fliss laughed. “Ok, right, so I guess I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, you will.” she smiled.

***** “Hi guys!” Fliss waved at the screen of her phone.

“Hey Titch!” her Dad grinned back “How’s it going? Burnt the house down yet?”

“Yeah, fire brigade are dealing with it now” she smiled “How’s Seattle?”

“Hot, like muggy hot, and full of people.” her dad grimaced and she heard her mum tssk in the background before she too appeared on the screen.

“Ignore him!” Verity rolled her eyes, smiling “It’s wonderful!”

“Hmmmm” Bill rolled his eyes “I tell you what won’t be wonderful, my bank statement when I get it. You’ve hit every shop going.” Fliss laughed as her parents began to bicker affectionately.

“So what are you up to tonight?” Verity turned to her daughter “Making the most of the peace and quiet?” “Erm…actually I’m going out. Well, to a BBQ…” she said, trying not to roll her eyes at the surprised look her parents exchanged.

“A BBQ?” Bill asked.

“Yeah, Frank and Mary invited me so…” she shrugged “I thought it beat sitting at home alone.” Another significant look was exchanged between the parents.

“Oh and he fixed the tractor” Fliss said, in a hope that would divert her Dad’s attention. Luckily for her, Bill was a tactful man and could recognise when she was trying to change the subject so to avoid her mother digging further he took the initiative and began to ask her a few questions about it, which she answered as best she could. The call lasted for another 10 minutes or so before the oven sounded, telling her the marinated chicken wings she had cooked to take with her were ready so she bid them both goodbye, promising to be at the airport to pick them up the following evening, and headed into the kitchen.

Once the wings were out cooling, she headed for a shower then set about trying to decide what to wear. Her stomach was churning a little, why she was so nervous she had no idea. This was just Frank, and Mary. In the end she settled on a pair of cut off jeans which grazed her ankles, a pair of brown sandles and a light green checked sleeveless button down. She kept her make up light, and pulled her long hair back into a loose bun. Once she had made sure the dogs were ok she grabbed the chicken wings and the beer she had also bought to take with her and then once she had double checked the directions she set off.

It wasn’t a long drive to the park Frank and Mary lived on. Fliss slowed down carefully, looking for the number she had been given and soon spotted Frank’s truck parked outside. She pulled her Jeep up behind it and clambered out, only to be almost bowled over by a flurry of blonde hair.

“Hi!” Mary said, giving her a hug. Fliss chuckled and bent down to hug her back.

“Mary you saw me like a few hours ago.” she laughed.

“I know but, I’m glad you came.” she said, letting go. She reached down to pick up a ginger one-eyed cat which was following her. “This is Fred.” “Nice to meet you Fred.” Fliss said, giving the cat a scratch behind his ear.

“Mary for Gods sake give it a moment before you start bugging her half to death.” Frank’s voice sounded and Fliss looked up, smiling at him as he appeared from the side of the house. Fliss gave him the once over from behind her sunglasses. He was dressed in a pair of light blue jeans, a dark blue T-shirt, a pair of grubby white sneakers and his ever present aviators were perched on his head. He made his way down to her and frowned as she opened the passenger side of the car and pulled out a ceramic dish.

“You told me to bring chicken wings.” she said as she handed him the dish “I also brought beer.” He laughed and shook his head “I wasn’t being serious…” “Well, I did them anyway. And they’re already cooked so you just need to char them. No chance of food poisoning.”

“Good to know.” Frank nodded, before he gestured with his head “Come on…”

Fliss followed him round to the back of the house and up a set of steps into a small kitchen.

“Come on I’ll show you round!” Mary said, grabbing her hand. Fliss let the girl lead her into the main room of the house. It was small, packed with personal touches. She looked around smiling softly. There was a small bookcase in the corner by the window near the front door in front of which sat a small table and a tool box. In the other corner was a small desk which was loaded with books and school supplies. Along another window sat a small leather couch, and the walls were adorned with the same, slightly shabby light coloured wooden panelling which gave the place the feel of a beach hut. It was bright, homely and Fliss instantly felt herself relax, there was just something about it that made her feel at ease.

“Probably not what you’re used to huh?” Frank said, watching her as she looked around, suddenly a little conscious that she was more than likely coming from a fairly opulent background with the job she did and her family and sporting heritage.

“No, but…” she smiled at him “I love it, feels like a home.” “It’s not much but it does us.” Frank smiled at her comment as he moved back to the fridge. “Beer or…” “Yeah, beer’s good…” she said, standing in the doorway and nodding to the carrier bag of bottles she had put on the table.

“You know you didn’t need to bring any more.” he said, as he glanced inside it “I got plenty” “I’m sure you do but my Mum always told me it was polite to take something with me when I go to someone’s for dinner so…”

Frank smiled and began to place the bottles in the fridge before he pulled out two already chilled bottles of Bud Light and flipped the tops off with the opener he had stuffed in the pocket of his jeans.

“Thanks” she smiled.

Mary walked past the pair of them, Fred shooting ahead of her as she tossed a ping pong ball into the grass of the yard and Frank gestured with his head, questioningly. Fliss nodded and they stepped back outside onto the lawn area, where a BBQ and a small table and a few chairs sat were set up.

Fliss took a seat as Mary flopped onto a beanbag to their left on the grass.

“Frank bought the special burgers” she stated “Said if we had company that wasn’t just Roberta we should wheel out the good stuff.” Frank groaned at his niece “Mary…”

“What?” she asked, and Fliss laughed.

“I’m glad you think I’m worthy of good burgers” she teased, and Frank noticed the corners of her eyes that weren’t hidden by her glasses crinkling up as she smiled.

“And I’m offended to know I’m not…” A voice said, and Frank jumped slightly. Fliss turned to see a kindly faced black woman with chin lengthy curly dark hair rounding the side of the house. Mary jumped up to give her a hug and the woman greeted her before she smiled at Fliss who had stood up.

“You must be Fliss.” “Roberta, yeah?” Fliss asked nodding as she shook the ladies hand “I’ve heard a lot about you.” “Same here.” The woman nodded before she turned to Frank. “You going to get me a beer?” “Get one yourself.” Frank shot back “Make yourself at home. You usually do.” Fliss grinned as Roberta aimed a slap to his head and he dodged the hit as if he knew it was coming. Which he probably did, Fliss realised. There was a comfortable familiarity between the two of them, even if Frank was trying to be all gruff about it.

Roberta came back and dropped into a chair and they all settled info a comfortable chat. Roberta asked Fliss questions about her Yard, Mary interjecting comments here and there as Frank stood by the grill observing their food. Any tension that Fliss had been feeling quickly evaporated as she became even more comfortable in her surroundings, and she happily chatted away. She told them about her brother, Steve and his 2 twin boys Charlie and Joel who were both Mary’s age, where she was from in England, and her parents, revealing to Frank’s surprise that Bill wasn’t actually her biological father.

“I didn’t know that.” Frank looked at her.

“Why would you?” Fliss shrugged “It’s not important really. My actual dad left my mum before she had me and then he died when I was 4 months old. I never met him. Bill brought me up from the age of 2 and adopted me when he married mum, so he is my dad, in everything but blood.”

“So you said they were out of town?” Roberta asked. “Anywhere nice?”

“Seattle.” Fliss said “Mum’s always wanted to go and, well last year they didn’t get much chance to travel what with everything that was going on so they’re just starting to get round to it. Kinda strange them not being around, first time since I’ve been in Florida that they haven’t.”

She pondered that for a moment, her nails lightly tapping on her beer bottle before she gave a grin and looked up at Frank. “I face timed them before. Their reaction when I told them I wasn’t simply sitting at home tonight like a total loser was priceless. I thought Mum was going to tell me to give her a ring when I got back safely…”

Frank gave a little laugh as he recalled their conversation earlier. He was about to reply when Mary cut in.

“Why’s that? You’re a grown up.”

Frank rolled his eyes at Mary’s nosey demeanour but Fliss didn’t seem to mind.

“Well like I told you sweetie, I don’t really have many friends here so I don’t go out a lot.” Fliss shrugged “I only really know the guys from the yard and a few people through my parents. My friends are all in the UK really… even the people I knew in Boston were more…” she trailed off before she took a breath and smiled “Well, I left them all behind when I moved.” “Well now you got us, right Frank?” Mary said simply as she sat on the large bean bag as she tossed a ping pong ball for Fred who obligingly chased it across the lawn. “Sure does.” Frank smiled “And we’re kinda hard to shake off. ” “Like a dose of the clap…” Roberta dropped her voice so only Fliss and Frank could hear. Fliss choked on her beer, sputtering a laugh as Frank flipped the woman off. “Fuck you” Fliss wiped the beer she had slopped onto the front of her shirt. She took little longer, than she needed as her eyes had watered up at the sudden sentiment of the moment. She had only known Frank and Mary a week, yet here she was in their home. Friendship was something she had been aching to feel again for months and now she found herself suddenly surrounded by it and she was a little overwhelmed if truth be told. When she finally looked up Frank was surprised to see there was a shine in her eyes as they had watered over. He shot her a wink, tactful enough not to mention it and then asked her if she would mind grabbing him a beer from the fridge whilst he kept an eye on the steaks, giving her chance to escape and compose herself. She shot him a grateful nod and headed inside, taking a deep breath.

“She alright?” Robert asked, watching.

Frank shrugged “Yeah, I think so, why?” “No reason.” Roberta said, standing up and moving to the grill “She just looked a little upset.” Frank shrugged again, focussing on the grill before he looked at Roberta “Think I should go after her?”

Roberta shot him a look as if he had just asked the most stupid question in the world. “Dur.”

“Watch that…” he instructed, handing Roberta the tongs before he headed inside.

“You alright?” he asked, as Fliss turned to look at him, gesturing to the beer on the side.

“Was just about to try and find the bottle opener…” Reaching into his pocket Frank handed it to her and smiled. “You ok?”

“Yeah…honestly, I guess, well, I’ve just…not done anything like this in a while…other than with my family so…” “Overwhelming?”

“A little, maybe. It’s just…nice.” she shrugged.

“You might not be saying that when you taste my cooking.” he shrugged and she laughed, following him back outside.

******

To Frank’s delight the food was actually pretty damned good. Roberta had brought a potato salad with her and everything got eaten, there wasn’t a scrap left which was why he and Fliss were now sat on the chairs in the garden, Fliss groaning about being in a food coma. Roberta had left half an hour ago and Mary was now flat out on the bean bag, covered by a fleece blanket. Frank had moved the grill away and lit the small portable fire pit before he had retrieved another blanket for Fliss and himself from the stash down the side of the sofa.

Their conversation had turned to Frank’s work and he was telling Fliss about some of the people he had met, the pair of them giggling as he spoke about a real stuck up couple he had fixed a boat for, who had then only gone and crashed it into the side of another boat on the first day of them taking it back out.

“What a waste.” Fliss laughed, “All your hard work gone up in smoke.”

“Well I got paid so…” Frank shrugged “And it was a nice boat to drive…”

“Sail.” Fliss corrected him and he rolled his eyes.

“I’m as much of a sailor as you are a cowgirl…”

Fliss grinned as she took another swig from her beer bottle before she turned to him, the reflection of the fire pit flashing in her eyes “well, if the boots fit”

Frank laughed “Do you actually have a pair of cowboy boots?”

“I used to.” She said, taking a deep breath “I spent a week in Texas one summer on a ranch, just to try my hand at Western riding you know. They gave me a pair of boots and a hat when I left. And then my husband burned them one night after I was late home. You know once he broke 3 of my pandora bracelets that I spent years collecting charms for because I bought the wrong coffee…”

Frank bowed his head.

“Sorry.” She smiled, “that kinda killed the conversation didn’t it?”

Frank shook his head and shook his head softly “In all honesty I was just thinking about what a prick he is. Something I’ll never understand, a man laying hands on a woman.”

“I tried to understand it for years.” Fliss said “even after he was sent down I still wondered what I did to make him behave like that but now, well now I know it’s him with the problem not me.” she paused and shook her head again “I have no idea why I’m telling you all this, sorry…”

“Don’t apologise.” he shook his head “like I said the other night, I’m a good listener.” “Yeah, you are…you don’t talk much though.” she looked at him.

“What do you think I’m doing now?” “That’s not what I mean.” she looked at him. “Just a pity I can’t google you like you did to me.”

Frank took a deep breath and grimaced as he looked at her “My dad told me” “Yeah, sorry about that, Mary…

“Its fine.” she sighed “It was a public case and a lot of interest amongst the circuit. The main reason I left boston was to get away from all of it…seems it just follows me all over.” Frank had a sudden flashback to the moment she had asked him what he was running from and took a deep breath. “Well, no matter how much you try and leave the past behind it always has a habit of catching up on you.” he said, glancing at Mary to make sure she was still asleep. He reached for his phone, tapped something into the search bar and hesitated for a second. Was he really sure he wanted to do this?

He supposed it was only fair. He gently handed it to Fliss. “And you can’t google me but…” Fliss took the phone from him with a questioning look before she glanced down at the article on display. It was from the Boston Herald.com and her eyes were immediately drawn to the black and white picture of a pretty woman with short, blonde hair. She was the double of Mary. Across the top the headline read “A Mind for math: Is Diane Adler the missing female variable that finally solves the Navier-Stokes Equation?”

“This is your sister?” Fliss said softly, “Mary’s mom?”

Frank nodded “She was a genius. The The Navier–Stokes equation they’re talking about, they’re of huge interest in a purely mathematical sense. It hasn’t yet been proven whether solutions always exist in three dimensions and, if they do exist, whether they are smooth or…”

“You’ve lost me.” Fliss chuckled “I was an English major, numbers and maths…” Frank chuckled “Sorry, force of habit.” he said as Fliss handed him the phone back.

“So, what happened to her?” Fliss asked softly. “I mean, I figure something must have for you to end up with Mary but…”

“She killed herself.” he said softly

“Shit.” Fliss said, “I’m sorry Frank…” He took a deep breath. “She was only 27. I was running late for a date of all things. She just showed up, on my doorstep. And she never did that unannounced, and more to the point she never showed up with Mary either…”

Frank swallowed and Fliss waited patiently for him to continue.

“She said she needed to talk. I told her I would talk to her when I got back and I left. I mean, couldn’t be late for a date could I…god forbid it damage my chances of getting’ laid.” Fliss noticed the bitter edge in his voice as he continued “Came home that night. Mary was on the couch…and I found Diane on the bathroom floor.” Fliss gently touched his arm “Frank, there’s no way you could have known.” “But I should have.” Frank said, softly “She was my little sister…you know, I was 2 years older than her. I was only 8 when Dad died but I promised then I’d always look after her but…”

He shook his head. “Anyway, here we are. A few months later we moved here. Fast forward 6 and a half years and…we’re still here.”

“I take it Mary’s father isn’t about?”

Frank snorted “Diane was, well, just like Mary really. Socially awkward. She didn’t date enough really to be able to tell the good guys from the bad guys. Mary’s father didn’t even last a month.” “And your mom?”

“She turned her back on Diane when she got pregnant. Didn’t fit with her plan. That’s part of the reason I moved Mary and me here. She’s a very exacting woman, uncompromising, very British.” At that Fliss raised an eyebrow and Frank looked at her, suddenly realising what he had said.

“She’s from England.” he added, and Fliss smiled. “She hated the fact I gave up my job and…well we don’t speak.”

“What did you do before becoming a Sailor?” Fliss smiled and Frank chuckled slightly.

“I was a Philosophy professor at Boston University” he said.

“Wow.” Fliss smiled “That’s pretty smart.” “You sound surprised?” he looked at her

“No, not at all.” Fliss protested.

He smiled again, “You know, sometimes I see so much of Diane in Mary, and she’s just a child. She comes out with stuff that’s way beyond her years. I mean earlier this year she asked me what I thought Executive Order 13769 was going to mean for all those refugees being refused entry…what 7 year old talks about stuff like that?”

“A very smart one.” Fliss replied.

“Exactly.” Frank nodded “I don’t want that life for her, the pressure associated with being a childhood genius like Diane was. Which is why she’s going to School in September, where she’ll hopefully learn how to be a kid.”

Fliss looked at him.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t notice it before when she was with the other kids on the lesson.” Frank eyed her and Fliss looked down a little “See, she doesn’t know how to a normal 7 year old…well, very rarely anyway. In fact the only time I’ve seen it recently is when she’s at the yard with you.

“She’s just a little awkward…but that’s nothing to worry about.” Fliss looked at her.

“But I do worry.” Frank sighed,

“Because you care.” Fliss said gently, her hand falling to his arm. “I think you’re being a little hard on yourself and her. She’s a good kid.” “Yeah, considering I brought her up.” Frank chuckled.

“Well I think you’ve done a good job so far.” Fliss shrugged “It can’t have been easy.”

“Still isn’t” Frank sighed. “It’s not how I envisaged my life panning out that’s for sure.” “Neither’s mine.” Fliss snorted “If you’d have told me 10 years ago that by the time I was here, aged 33 I’d have had my dreams cut short at the age of 28, then divorced after being hospitalised by a man I moved thousands of miles to be with I’d probably have laughed but here we are.” “He hospitalised you?” Frank frowned, suddenly feeling an inexplicable surge of anger towards this fucker, one which he really shouldn’t feel so strongly considering he had known Fliss for all of a week.

“Did you not read that bit?”

Frank shook his head “No I stopped reading after it mentioned domestic abuse. Was none of our business.”

“He wanted us to have a baby and frankly the thought of bringing a kid up, with him, in that environment…so when I found out I was pregnant in January last year I got rid of it. He found out and he beat me so hard he broke 3 of my ribs, ruptured my spleen and fractured my eye socket. I was in hospital for over a week.”

“Shit, Fliss, I had no idea…”

She wave his apology away “In a sick, twisted way I’m almost glad it happened. It was the final push to leave him for good. Wasn’t easy mind, I was low. Very low for a while and when the trial was going on…” she stopped again and shook her head “You know he plea bargained? Pleaded guilty to a lesser level of assault and got 4 years last summer. He’ll be out next summer I expect if he applies for parole, which he will because, well, that’s John all over.”

“Fucker.” Frank bit out between gritted teeth.

“Yeah, well it’s behind me now.” she said “I’m in a good place. I’m happy, my business is taking off and it’s a job I love. I have my family and, well, some friends.”

Frank smiled and nodded “What Roberta said before is true you know. We’re harder to get rid of than an STD.” Fliss laughed loudly and drained her beer bottle “Well I’m glad to hear it, because I kinda like you Sailor.” “Back at you Cowgirl.” They changed the subject then, Fliss talking about her horses, in particular her chestnut mare that was her pride and joy, and then when Mary stirred Frank glanced at his watch and realised it was past midnight. He didn’t want to kick Fliss out but when he stood saying he should get the little girl in bed, Fliss nodded and agreed she should be going as it was late.

Frank told her to wait whilst he swept Mary up and carried her into the house before he came back out to walk her down to her car.

“We should do this again.” Fliss said, “Only this time you can come to me. Although I’m a better cook than BBQ chef.” “You’re on.” Frank said, “Although don’t mention it to Mary. It’s all I’ll hear about.” Fliss grinned and then leaned up on her toes to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Thanks Frank.”

He smiled as she climbed into her car and as she set off he tossed a hand at the tailgate as she rounded the corner. He headed back inside, contemplating the evening. The chat had been hard going in some places, he hadn’t told anyone about Diane in a long time. Hell, Mary didn’t know a lot about her mother, he tried to keep her sheltered but he knew that as she grew older that was going to get harder. He also knew how much it must have taken Fliss to open up the way she did. It left him with a puzzlingly warm feeling in his chest that she trusted him enough to do so, one he couldn’t really explain. And he had a feeling it was to do with the fact that he actually wanted to spend time with the woman and get to know her, instead of simply getting her into bed.

Yup, that was it. For the first time in forever Frank realised he’d extended an offer of no strings attached friendship to a woman.

And he couldn’t deny, it was nice.

@the-omni-princess @momobaby227 @geekofmanythings16 @angelofhell-666 @thewackywriter @marvelfansworld @cobalt-gear @asgardlover75 @jennmurawski13 @jtargaryen18 @saiyanprincessswanie @navispalace @patzammit @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @djeniiscorner @ayamenimthiriel @coldmuffinbanditshoe @disneylovingal @madzmilllz @sgtjaamesbaarnes @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @southerngracela @goldenfightergir @kellymat @official-and-unstable-satan @icanfeelastormbrewing

#frank adler x ofc #frank adler #gifted #gifted fan fic

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lynnsfics · 5 years ago

Text

Coffee Stained Confusion Ch. 13

~~~

Bucky walked into the living room and sighed. “Sorry that took me so long, they needed more details on HYDRA-” Upon seeing you sound asleep on the couch he smiled softly and went to his room. After grabbing a light blanket off the bed he re-entered the living room and gently covered you with it. He turned off the television, which had still been playing Brooklyn-99 and went to bed.

Not five minutes after he climbed into bed he heard a shrill scream come from the living room. Heart pounding he ran to the room, expecting the worst, only to find you sitting up on the couch, a few tears running down your face.

“Doll, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“Oh, Bucky, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to wake you I just-”

“Had a nightmare?” He guessed,

“Yes, I’m fine, though. It’s not a big deal.”

“Are you sure? After my time with HYDRA I had horrible nightmares, and one of the only things that helped was talking it out.”

“I don’t want to bother you, it’s late and-” “It’s not too late, and I don’t mind at all.”

“I was her, Elaine Berlioz, the agent that I killed,” your voice shook as you spoke, “and I could feel the fire, the heat, it was as if I was facing some divine punishment for what I did by experiencing it.” “One of the things HYDRA does is make you feel guilty for what happened. And although physically it was you who did that, it wasn’t you. What you did doesn’t define you as a person.” “Thank you, it’s just,” you paused, “I thought I was past this. I thought, I don’t know, I guess I thought I’d be able to move on.”

“Progress is not linear. I mean, I’ve been away from HYDRA for over a year and there are still nights where I wake up screaming. But I’ve also made a lot of progress. It isn’t as hard as it used to be, and I know you’ll make progress too. Sometimes you might fall back into negative thoughts, and that’s alright, but keep striving for a better outlook.”

You glanced down and smiled. “I never really thought about it like that.” He sat down on the couch next to you, “When I first came to the tower, Bruce and Natasha helped me deal with my PTSD. Not everyone was exactly welcoming at the time. They were some of the few who understood.” He paused and looked at the ground before continuing, “But after the truth of Tony’s parents was revealed, even they started to distance themselves.”

“What happened to Tony’s parents? I thought they died in a car crash.” “That was the official story that HYDRA spread, but in reality, I was responsible. Well, the Winter Soldier was, anyways. After that was revealed, Stark wasn’t exactly thrilled with my being here. Eventually, though it was all sorted out. We aren’t the best of friends, obviously, but we don’t hate each other either, which is more than I could’ve hoped for.” “I’m glad you told me about that, it must not be an easy thing to open up about. If it’s not too much trouble, I understand if you don’t want to, but would you be able to stay up with me and watch a movie or something? It probably doesn’t make much sense, but I don’t feel safe enough to go to sleep yet. With my anxiety I have a hard time sleeping in new environments sometimes, unless I have something to make me feel safer.” In a quiet voice you added, “Or if I have someone nearby who makes me feel safe.” Bucky nodded, “Of course I can stay up, I doubt I’d be able to fall asleep just yet anyways.”

Picking up the remote you turned on the television and began watching a comedic cooking show where none of the chefs actually knew how to cook. As you were watching the show it got chillier in the room and Bucky noticed you scootch a little bit closer to him. It wasn’t long after that when you sleepily laid your head on his shoulder. Noticing you were finally asleep again Bucky tried to reach for the blanket but couldn’t get it without disturbing you. Trying the next best option he gently put his arm around your shoulders, just to keep you warm of course, no romantic feelings involved- that’s what he told himself at least.

Soon after you snuggled in closer to him and Bucky recalled something that you’d mentioned earlier that evening. You couldn’t fall asleep if you didn’t feel safe around someone. ‘She feels safe around me,’ he thought to himself. ‘Well, that’s a first.’

~~~

You awoke the next morning to find Bucky in the kitchen making pancakes. You glanced over at him from your spot on the couch. “Well, look who finally decided to wake up. I’m making breakfast, chocolate chip pancakes.” You stood up and walked to the counter, “That sounds great, do you need any help?” “Nah, I should be fine, thanks though.” You smirked, “Really? Because the uh, pancake flour on your face tells a different story.”

He chuckled as he tried to wipe it off, “Okay, maybe I need just a little bit of help.”

“Yeah, I think you do. Here, I’ve got it,” you stood on your tiptoes and before you quite realized what you were doing, you wiped the powdery mix off his cheek. It was then that you realized just how close you two were standing. Taking a step back you felt a warm blush flood your face and instantly looked down. “Sorry about that, uh-” “It’s fine, really,” Bucky responded with a light laugh. He shook his head and headed back to the stove, trying to hide the slight butterflies he was feeling. Picking up the mixing bowl, he poured some of the mix into the pan and reached into a little basket near the fridge. Pulling out a hair tie, he quickly pulled his hair back into a cross somewhere between a ponytail and a bun. He walked back over to the counter and grabbed the bag of chocolate chips to put away.

“Wait, can I see that for a second?” He handed you the bag and you grabbed a few chocolate chips and sprinkled them onto the pancake cooking on the stove, then proceeded to put a few more in the mixing bowl. “There weren't enough chips in it,” you said with a slight smile. “My mom used to make these for breakfast, and the chocolate to pancake ratio was always perfect. Of course by that point it was basically chocolate chips with only some pancake, instead of pancakes with chocolate chips, but hey, they were good.”

“Well, that sounds delicious,” Bucky said with a smile. “I won’t tell Steve if you don’t.”

“Well, looks like we have a deal. And if he does find out, just let him know that at least now you didn’t have to add brown sugar to it.” “Brown sugar?” he asked. “Do you like, cook it in with the pancake or-?”

“I mean, I suppose you could, but whenever I have plain pancakes I sprinkle some brown sugar on top of it with the syrup, and it always tastes delicious. You’ve never had that?” “Well, no, growing up we didn’t really add much ‘flavor’ to food, and I never thought to try it once I got back.”

“You literally live in the Avenger’s tower and never thought of it? Well, I’ll need to have a talk with Tony about the tower’s food plan if I’m going to stay on the team,” you joked. “Oh, look that one’s ready!”

Bucky flipped the pancake and sure enough, it was a perfect golden-brown with melted chocolate chips scattered throughout.

“You can have the first one,” Bucky offered, “after all, it is your recipe.” Smiling, you accepted the plate and took a bite, and just as you thought, it was incredible. “It’s just like I remember,” you said, a soft smile playing on your lips and you thought about the last time you had these pancakes with your family.

It had been a bright June morning, and you woke up extra early to watch the Saturday morning cartoons. You heard your parents talking in hushed tones in the next room, but you were too engrossed in the episode of Looney Toons playing to pay much attention to their conversation. After the show ended you went to the kitchen and got out the pancake mix, but when you tried to pour it yourself the powder spilled all over you. Your parents came to the rescue, though, and soon enough you had an extra-chocolatey chip pancake in front of you to make up for all the Bisquick mix in your hair.

“These are delicious,” Bucky said, snapping you out of your thoughts. Then, changing the subject he asked, “Do you remember them? Your parents, I mean.”

“Uh, bits and pieces. Some memories are crystal clear and others seemes, I don’t know, warped almost. Maybe it’s for the best, it isn’t good to dwell on what could’ve been.” You chuckled, “I mean, that’s what my therapist told me anyways, but for all I know he may have been working for HYDRA, so maybe his advice isn’t the best.”

“Memories can be a tricky thing,” Bucky admitted with a laugh, “half the time Sam will say I did something as the Winter Soldier and I honestly don’t know if I did. Like last week he said I slashed his car tires, and I don’t think I did, but who am I to say? Oh, I almost forgot!” he exclaimed, “Steve said that Natasha wanted to start your training today. We should head down to the gym, best not to keep her waiting.”

~~~

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@sydneyisnotawriter

Just a head’s up, the next update might be a bit short as my birthday is this week so I might not have much time to write! Like always, likes and reblogs are appreciated! Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! Love you all <3

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foxtophat · 4 years ago

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hahah well here i am back on my 10k word bullshit

promise the next chapter is way shorter, john is just so fucking over the top that i spend so much time just trying to organize his thoughts for you guys lmfao. what a chad, right?????

anyway, i hope you guys enjoy nick and john bitching at each other, because that’s pretty much the theme of this chapter. i really enjoyed writing it, which should tell you everything you need to know about how bad a day john is about to have

as usual, i hope that you enjoy! if you do, please consider throwing me a bone in the form of a kudos, comment or reblog -- i eat those up like turkish delight, nom nom nom

also as usual, i got the fic text beneath a readmore for my friends who like to stay on one page. no matter what your reading experience, i will try to accommodate for you!!!

i hope you guys are all having a good day and that it continues to be good even after i’m done giving you fic to read!! that’s... all that’s all i got

John had known offering his help was a mistake as soon as he'd done it. Suggesting that he knew where hidden supplies might be was obviously setting himself up for colossal failure, but he'd had to think on his feet. He hadn't wanted to build up Kim's hopes, or encourage her to talk to Nick about it. All he'd wanted was for her to go back upstairs so he could sneak outside without her haranguing him for it. Then he'd seen how much it had reassured her, and the obligation to follow through had set in. Now, no matter how obvious a failure the endeavor may become, he has no choice but to push forward with the plan.

That's why John doesn't protest when Nick suggests they go sooner than later. He probably should, because it's been too hot to dig for the past week already, but the sooner he disappoints Kim, the less disappointment he'll incur. None of them will have time to blow things out of proportion. The cache he has in mind had been buried by Jacob a little under a mile outside of town, in some unused patch of farmland. They'll be back before sundown, and the sting of returning empty-handed won't last too unbearably long.

Of course, when the morning comes to go look for the cache, John can barely manage to drag himself out of bed. If he'd thought yesterday's heat was unbearable, then he doesn't know what he'd call today. The sun has barely risen and it's already baked his room, leaving him tangled up in sweaty sheets. Summer has always been John's least favorite month, even before the Collapse, but there has to be something wrong for them to be going through a second week of a heatwave. At least blaming the nuclear apocalypse for their shitty weather makes him feel slightly better.

He can't tell if he managed to sleep, but from the way his head aches as he slowly rises, John is willing to bed he failed that task yet again. God, what he wouldn't give for some fucking Ambien. Even a good, stiff drink would help, but John's shot tolerance hasn't recovered from his last encounter for post-apocalyptic liquor, so that's out of the question. Just his luck — he's going to have to suffer a whole day around Nick without much keeping him upright.

Even in the relatively cool shade downstairs, John finds himself blinking sweat out of his eyes. It's a struggle for him to focus on anything besides how miserable he is. If only he could blame it on trauma — but no, he's just never handled prolonged heat well. Montana might not have Georgia's overwhelming humidity, but the temperature climbs twenty degrees higher, and summer out here never seems to fucking end . That, combined with his pitiful heat tolerance, is probably why he's running on maybe two hours of sleep.

There are a handful of raw carrots on his plate, next to a few strips of old jerky that even Nick is leaving for last. It's going to be a long, long day, and he's not going to be getting much else until dinner, but John can't scrounge up any sort of appetite. He hasn't been hungry for what feels like days now, and his stomach barely tolerates anything more than water.

"Hey," Carmina asks, leaning into John's peripheral vision, "Can I have that?"

John doesn't know which part of his meal she's eying, but he slides the plate her way regardless. Kim watches him do it, openly frowning at him because she's also seen him picking around his food at every meal. So far, she hasn't said anything to him about it. Why would she? His lack of an appetite means that Carmina gets to have more. She can't possibly complain about that.

Nick is more vocal about his concern, furrowing his brow as he asks for the second time this morning, "You sure you're okay?"

"Yes," John replies once again. He's too tired to be exasperated, but he wishes Nick would knock it the fuck off, at least until after they leave. The last thing he needs right now is for Kim to hold some sort of intervention. Just in case, he qualifies his yes , choosing the most honest excuse he can this early in the morning. "I'm exhausted," he says. "I didn't get much sleep."

"Do you really wanna do this today, then? I mean, you said this thing was buried, and I don't wanna get stuck digging it out myself."

"I won't be any better rested tomorrow," John sighs, suppressing the yawn that tries to follow.

Nick doesn't look pleased, but he relents with a shrug. It isn't like they're going somewhere particularly dangerous, and even if they do happen to run into trouble, Fall's End will be within eyesight. The wildlife won't be much of a problem, and drifters are more common in the eastern part of the county, moving in from the 94 and occasionally trying to bully their way through. John's confident that they won't run into any trouble, even if he winds up passing out mid-dig.

John lets the rest of breakfast wash around him as he counts the minutes until they leave. He feels distinctly separated from the moment, the Rye family nothing more than white noise going in one ear and out the other. Silently dissociating around their idyllic family unit is still the norm, of course, but at least today he can blame it on too much heat and not enough sleep. Maybe he'll be able to get some rest in the truck, assuming Nick doesn't decide to test the suspension over every goddamn pothole.

Nick reluctantly says goodbye to Kim after breakfast, repeating it two or three times as Kim and Carmina see him off from the porch. John doesn't remember Nick as an anxious person; he doesn't know if there had always been long, uneasy goodbyes on the porch before work. The Collapse has turned most everybody into a paranoid mess, but maybe John just never knew Nick very well to begin with. He doesn't want to ask.

"Okay," Nick says once they're both buckled in, the windows cranked down. "You said we're looking for a silo outside of town?"

John waits until the truck lurches into drive to respond. "The silo was a convenient marker, but I doubt it's still there. I know where to look, though — assuming the landscape hasn't changed too dramatically."

"Well, let's hope so. I don't want to dig around for nothing."

"We both know who's going to be doing the digging."

"I thought it was gonna be you, until you nearly passed out at breakfast. Probably gonna leave me with the hard work like the selfish prick you are."

"I'll be fine," John replies, yawning unabashedly. He rests his head next to the open window, closing his eyes against the hot wind. "I've done more with less energy."

"Yeah, sure," Nick says, rolling his eyes hard enough that John can hear it in his voice. He waits a few beats for John to return the gentle banter, but John can't muster up the energy. He needs to save it all for the dig. It's going to be hard enough on Nick, who manages to sleep at night. John isn't expecting to have much left for anything else once this is all over. It'll be a miracle if he makes it back home.

Quickly figuring out that John isn't in the mood to talk, Nick falls quiet. There isn't a radio station to listen to, so he hums under his breath occasionally, gently swerving along the cracked asphalt to avoid potholes. He's usually happy to bounce through them, but John knows better than to think it's for his sake.

John opens his eyes briefly, just in time to see the washed out turn that once led towards the Ranch. He hasn't been back yet. He doesn't think he could bear asking the Ryes for permission, let alone see the place rotting in a field. Despite repeated assurances to Joseph that he didn't care about his stronghold, he had hand-picked the furniture, the paint, the bedding — all of it — and he had spared little expense. Now, all of his pride and poorly spent money has been abandoned, probably picked clean by scavengers over the harshest years. After all, the security systems he had dropped thousands of dollars into hadn't been able to stop a cop wielding a shotgun — he doubts they would do much to deter anybody now.

He should have listened to Jacob when he'd said it was a waste of time. Of course, John hadn't paid much attention to anything Jacob said unless it was directly related to the Project. Part of him wishes he'd made more of an effort to connect with his oldest brother, but he doubts that he would have made it to this side of the Collapse if he had.

Once he starts thinking about Jacob, it's hard to stop. It's not much of a surprise that his oldest brother is on his mind, considering how often his dreams are haunted by Jacob's presence. Thankfully, with the sun in the sky and the wind on his face, John's more inclined to remember him for who he was, instead of imagining him as the specter of his nightmares. There are no dark corners for him to lurk in, and for once John imagines him as the quiet, withdrawn man he was.

It might have been almost ten years ago, but John can still remember riding along in Jacob's truck, listening to him hum along with the radio. The heat had broken late in August that year, so while the heat had been awful when Jacob had picked him up, it hadn't wiped John completely out. Not that it would have mattered — Jacob had no patience for John's distaste of heat, and he would have forced the issue regardless.

He'd gotten a brisk call fifteen minutes before Jacob showed up at the Ranch, telling him to be ready. John hadn't known what to be ready for, but he'd stopped asking questions by this point — when Joseph or Jacob arrived unannounced, he would only follow after them and do whatever they asked. As long as he did that, they would mostly leave him to his own devices. It had been more freedom than John had ever had in his life.

"You're positive nobody saw them," Jacob reiterates from the driver's seat. The memory of his voice bounces like an echo in John's skull.

"Of course I am," John remembers saying. He remembers being exasperated. Frustrated that even Jacob didn't trust him with menial tasks anymore. He had understood Joseph's distrust, had it explained plainly to him, but Jacob wouldn't even give him the chance to earn back the trust he'd somehow managed to lose. "Not that it matters," he remembers adding. "What can they do? It's our property. We could bury a plane there and they wouldn't be able to stop us."

Jacob's heavy sigh belies his irritation. "That's not always going to be the case. We don't know how the Reaping will go. Or the Collapse. You don't know what will be the last straw."

He'd been stressed. In two weeks, the Reaping would begin, but for now, Jacob's only concern is maintaining a steady flow of willing and able soldiers. He'd been irritable all the time, ever since he and Eli had fallen out, getting short with everybody, even Joseph, who allowed Jacob to be openly insubordinate even while punishing John for the same crime. The main problem in the weeks before the Reaping had been the slowing influx of soldiers making it through the trials. Lots of people had made it through at first. Nowadays, the conversion rate has dipped significantly. Jacob says it's because the people aren't strong enough, but John has a suspicion that it might have something to do with the Bliss, which has become more potent and arguably more toxic since Rachel's arrival as Faith. John hasn't brought up his concerns yet, because nobody has bothered to ask for his opinion. He will never get the chance to find out if he was right.

"John," Jacob's voice calls from the far away driver's seat. He sounds deeply, strangely concerned. "I'm trying to save you."

The words aren't right at all. John's body feels heavy in his seat, the hot air scratching at his face through the window. Where is he? They're on their way, but where?

The next thing Jacob says is achingly familiar, down to his tired inflection. "Joseph is worried about you," he says. "He still worries about your commitment."

It had been a warning, clear as day, and at the time it had filled John with a deep dread. But now, John feels nothing. Let Joseph be disappointed in him. Let him regret ever bringing John back into his life. John hopes it's a bitter pill he chokes on.

John had been on the defensive that day, scoffing loudly and snapping, "And yet, I'm the one converting the faithless." But the defensiveness is missing in the words. The people he'd been using like points against his brother are all dead now, and bragging about the things he'd done only roils his stomach.

"I don't think it's about converting people." Jacob reaches for the rear-view mirror, checking it for the umpteenth time as the truck trundles towards the distant silo. "Forget the religious bullshit for a minute. What we're doing, what's going to happen — we can't afford mistakes. We have to be prepared for every possibility. You understand that, don't you?"

"Nobody saw them," John sighs. "I promise ."

"Good," Jacob mutters. He takes a deep breath, holds it, and lets it out.

"Honestly, though. There are caches all over the county. I don't remember you being so particular about the last dozen drop points I organized."

At first, Jacob hadn't responded. John had thought at the time that it was because he was tired of having to explain his every move to someone as soft and short-sighted as John. He'd figured, as he always had, that Jacob saw him as nothing but the PR arm of the Project, kept around out of blood loyalty and nothing else. He would grimace whenever John mentioned atonement, mentioned his hard work, and John had suspected he thought it was beneath him.

But now John wonders if that's all there was to it.

"I'm trying to cover for every possibility," Jacob says. "That's all. It'd be good if you could help me."

"I did help," John retorts. "I do help. I do everything Joseph asks me to, and I don't complain about it. I don't complain when you order my men and me around, either, even though that was never part of the deal."

Jacob clicks his tongue against his teeth. He's checking the mirrors again, all of them. John remembers him checking the glove-box during their conversation, but he doesn't do that now. It hadn't mattered — there hadn't been anything in there — but John remembers it being very, very strange. The glove-box hangs open for a moment in his memory, as he looks through the windshield and spots the tall, bright red silo down the road.

"I wish you would plan ahead for yourself," Jacob says at last. "Stop taking orders and start taking initiative."

John huffs. "You've seen how well Joseph responds to that."

"Yeah," Jacob replies. John had been too arrogant to realize at the time that Jacob was commiserating with him, leaving him feeling deeply guilty now.

"He's convinced that the Reaping is going to begin any time now," John continues, ignoring Jacob's visible-in-hindsight unease. "Do we really have time to be burying barrels of ammunition? Or is this your newest plan to stick it to Eli?"

"It's for after the Reaping," Jacob says.

"A whole lot of good it does us this far from the bunkers."

Jacob had a real response for John, once. It had even satisfied him, at least enough to stop his complaining. But John doesn't remember what Jacob's reasoning had been; all he has is his exhausted brain struggling to stitch together the memory.

"There's so much you don't know. That you'll never find out." Jacob reaches out, his hand resting on John's shoulder, but there's no physical connection. John can't feel the weight of his hand, and for a dizzying moment the world around him turns smudged and blurry. There's a distinct melancholy in the words that Jacob never exhibited. "You know that I didn't believe any of it."

The weight on his shoulder comes out of nowhere, startling John awake as Nick calls his name. He kicks the dashboard as he jolts upright, and Nick leans back as he flings his hands out to steady himself.

"Shit," he gasps, grabbing the door handle. One disorienting glance is all John needs to realize where he is; Nick has pulled up just past the church, and the late summer heat of the apocalyptic landscape reasserts itself as reality once more.

"Sorry," Nick says. "I just, uh... need some directions from here."

"Yes," John replies. The urge to bolt from the truck is overwhelming, but John clings to the door and manages to stay in his seat. "Of course."

They sit for a minute before Nick awkwardly prompts, "Uh... Well?"

John desperately attempts to reorient himself, still stuck in the fog of his dream. "There should be a left turn up ahead. The silo was in a field on the right side of the road, just before the turnout before Larry Parker's house."

"God, talk about whack-jobs," Nick mutters as he pulls ahead. The intersection is mostly washed out now, barely distinguishable from the dunes that have formed over the fields, but Nick has a local's muscle memory. "I mean, I believe in aliens as much as the next guy, but Jesus . You hear what happened to him?"

"Not specifically. I assumed he was killed in the Reaping or the Collapse." Despite himself, John finds his curiosity piqued. "Why? Was I wrong?"

"I mean... I guess it's up to your interpretation." Nick doesn't bother to ease around the potholes now that John is awake, bumping them down along the cracked asphalt. "So, the way Dep told me, they went to go check up on Larry, y'know, make sure he's okay. Larry's got his weird-ass machines going, and he's talkin' about aliens and shit, as he usually is, and Dep keeps going, 'Larry, there's no time for aliens, there are cultists coming for you!' But, of course Larry pushes the point until Dep caves, like, 'Fine, let's fix the generator first, then we can run from the cult.'

"Except the cult rolled up right on top of them before they could patch everything up. Of course, Dep manages to clear them out, and Larry gets his machine working in the meantime. He says, 'help me get to Mars, Deputy!' and they figure, 'hey, might as well humor him.' I mean, what else can you do when the guy you're trying to evacuate insists he's got a fast pass to outer space?"

"Is this honestly what the Deputy was dealing with while we were in the middle of seizing the Valley and its resources?" John asks. He probably shouldn't be surprised, but really . Larry Parker's life couldn't possibly have been worth all the effort involved.

"I guess," Nick shrugs. "People were asking them to do all sorts of weird shit. So, anyway, Larry says so long to Dep and to Earth, and tells Dep to flip the switch. Dep decides that the sooner Larry realizes this isn't going to work, the better, so they turn the machine on the way Larry told them to, and, well, long story short, I guess the thing vaporized the poor guy."

However the story was supposed to end, that hadn't been what John expected. His disbelief is momentarily overwhelming, and he can't help but choke out, " Excuse me?"

Nick shrugs. "I mean, that's what Dep told me later. They were real bummed out about it, too. I guess that makes sense, since they felt responsible. But, at the same time... he said it was a teleporter, right? So maybe he wasn't vaporized at all. Maybe he really did get zapped to Mars."

"The choices are 'vaporized' or 'teleported to Mars'? Are you serious?"

"I guess Dep could have been bullshitting me, but it fits with what I remember about the guy."

John frowns. "I suppose either option is better than what happened to the rest of us," he says, "Although realistically, the man was one paranoid delusion away from assassinating a government official. I don't think he was nearly as technologically savvy as he professed himself to be."

"He wasn't that bad," Nick says as he shakes his head. "He was just some kook who believed in aliens more than people. And, well... I mean, if he really did make it to Mars, then we probably look like a bunch of assholes from wherever he's sitting." He sighs, then admits, "I wish I could've gone to Mars. I bet Kim would like it there."

" Why ?"

"I dunno, she always wanted to go on foreign trips and stuff. Can't get much more foreign than outer space." He hums thoughtfully, then says, "I guess she would've been pregnant, though, and if you can't fly with a pregnant lady, I bet you can't vaporize them either."

John takes a deep breath through his nose before he responds, reminding himself that he owes Nick his life. "That's a logical assumption," he manages to say, proud of his nearly-neutral delivery.

"Oh, shut up," Nick snaps, although he doesn't seem particularly upset by John's back-talk. "I'm just saying, if that's what would happen. It's not like I'm gonna go hot-wire the thing and test it out now ."

"I certainly hope not. There's no way I'm explaining that to the bloodthirsty mob that comes for me after you've disintegrated."

They've nearly reached the end of the road. John can see the T-shaped intersection coming up ahead, but he doesn't immediately recognize the right-hand field. A copse of pine trees have put down roots, and although John can see the skeletal framework of the hay storage, there's no sign of the silo that once marked the spot. John doesn't know if it was destroyed during the Reaping or in the Collapse. It doesn't really matter — everything it held has long since rotted away.

"Here?" Nick asks as they roll to the end of the road. John remembers Jacob slowing along the empty field; he had barely come to a stop to investigate the location. It had been around here that Jacob had checked the tilled soil for any hint at what lay underneath. He'd seemed content with how John's people had handled it, leaving the field as unassuming and untouched as they had found it.

If there had been any hint left behind in the silo or the hay storage, it's been wiped from the face of the planet. Long, sun-bleached panels of what used to be a silo lay scattered across the ground, weather-beaten past their use. Some pieces are pinned in place by the nine-year tree growth, never to be moved again. It's a struggle for John to envision the spot as it used to be, but there's no doubt that this is the right place.

"Yes," John says. "This is it."

Nick puts the truck in park and climbs out of the cab. John waits a moment longer, hoping to spot some hidden bump or curve that would indicate where to dig, but of course nothing reveals itself. He should have paid more attention. At the very least, he should have paid more attention to Jacob's diatribes about preparedness. Maybe he would be able to determine exactly where to start if he had.

John's nerves ease as he steps out of the car and stands at the edge of the worn-out road. It doesn't matter if he doesn't remember the exact spot — there's always been an element of gut instinct in understanding Jacob's methods, and John has plenty of that to rely on in lieu of real information. If he has to waste his time out here, then he might as well try to waste it productively.

He meanders a bit along the shoulder, then takes ten paces onto the field. Instinct has him go another twenty steps, until he's halfway between the truck and the hay storage. "Here, I think," he calls out to Nick, who's wandered ahead to explore the wreckage.

"Are you sure?" Nick asks as he passes John, returning to the truck for the shovels. "I don't wanna be digging holes all day like some kind of Stanley Yelnats."

" I'll be the one digging," John replies tepidly. "I don't need your help."

"What else am I gonna do, sit around and watch you all day? C'mon, let's get to work."

Really, John had expected as much. Nick can't leave things alone, and he can't resist giving whatever help he can. Long ago, John had figured it was a sign of Nick's obsessive need for control, something dark to be manipulated hidden under a folksy veneer. He had never considered that Nick's stubborn helpfulness had really been a coping mechanism for some long-standing anxiety. Even now, knowing full well that Nick's biggest worry is seeming unhelpful, John struggles to accept it. It still rubs him the wrong way when Nick insists on giving him a hand on some menial task that he ordered John to do in the first place.

Digging a three-foot hole is easier with two people, though, so of course John doesn't argue. The two of them hit a rhythm pretty quickly, although John's lack of sleep is slowing him down. Normally, the beat of manual labor is the only thing that helps empty out his mind, getting him as close to meditation as possible these days. For the first few months with the Ryes, it had been the only tangible comfort he had. He could disengage mentally while performing simple tasks with visible results, then ascribe to them penance for any one of his crimes. Even now, John can't help but wonder which sin he's paying for as he buries the spade into the ground.

They dig three feet down before John calls it. "Okay, fine ," he hisses through gritted teeth. "It's close to here. Maybe..."

John ignores Nick's theatrical sigh as he takes a few paces to the left and begins all over again. Of course, it doesn't take long before Nick joins back in.

"Maybe we should hunt down a metal detector," Nick suggests when the second hole reveals nothing.

"Sure, Nick," John snaps, "Add that to the other rational shit on your wife's shopping list."

"Jesus, it was just a joke."

John is far too hot, tired and sweaty to handle any jokes right now, much less from somebody he's trying to help. If Nick thinks John is digging around under the blazing sun just for his own enjoyment, then he can go fuck himself.

Even with John's attitude tanking rapidly, Nick continues to help him dig another hole and a half. His help only makes the defeat sting worse when John has finally had enough. He has no energy left, which makes flopping down on the dirt as easy as giving up. He buries his sweaty, sunburned face into his dirty hands, unable to hold back a groan.

"God damn it."

"What, that's it?" Nick huffs, pushing his hat back to wipe at his sweating forehead. He's using his shovel as a prop, and no amount of bravado can hide how much John's wild goose chase has worn him down. "You're just giving up?"

" No ," John spits, despite that being exactly what he's doing. "I just need a fucking break ."

There was a time when Nick would have punched him for being so miserable, but he doesn't even comment on it today. Somehow, it manages to make John feel worse, as though Nick's pity is fueling his fiery self-loathing. Nothing helps, especially not when Nick jabs his shovel into the dirt and offers John an excuse. "Probably need something to eat," he says. "Some water, or something. Look... just stay there, okay? I got a canteen in the truck, it'll just take a second."

The most response John can offer up is an affirmative grunt. He drops his hands from his face, watching Nick retreat to the truck before turning his eyes on the derelict storage in the opposite direction. He should have known better. He should have known that it would be impossible to find the cache without Jacob's help. Other than a set of probably mis-remembered coordinates and a gut sensation of being so close , John is flying completely blind. Why the hell hadn't he known any better? He could have saved them the time, gas and disappointment, if only he'd just kept his stupid mouth shut.

He guesses it must be progress that he's blaming himself and not Kim, whose insomnia kicked this whole thing off. It doesn't feel like much to show.

The wind changes direction, finally sending the few clouds in the sky drifting past the sun. The breeze picks up, sending a ripple of noise through the young pines. Pink-flowered vines creep through the roots of the trees and up the metal legs of the shed, twisting and choking the rest of the weeds just like they do everywhere else. Despite them being a mysterious, invasive species, they soften the landscape, lending a pink sugar-coating to the wasteland. John watches the blossoms bob in the breeze and thinks that Joseph might have been wrong about a lot of things, but he hadn't been too far off in declaring Hope County a promising garden.

The flowers look so much like the ones that had decorated the hem of Faith's dress that it's impossible not to think about her. John remembers the silk blossoms stitched onto lace, trying to conceal the ripped hem. There had been a dozen women who had tried to take on the mantle left behind by Joseph's wife, but now the only one John can imagine is Rachel, dancing in the sunlight. Even now he sees her swaying along with the wind, although he only has to blink for the vision to fade. A dozen women hadn't made the same impression that Rachel had. They hadn't been as proactive as her when it came to the Path, and they couldn't hold a candle to her wide-eyed understanding of the Bliss. None of them had adopted themselves as a sister into the family, turning quickly into the golden child that Joseph could praise over all others. They'd tried to fill the shoes of a dead woman that they couldn't hold a candle to. Rachel had been much, much smarter than that.

After all, none of those women haunt the landscape the way Rachel does. John, tired as he is, can almost hear her playfully humming on the breeze. She would sing in his bunker, vibrant and full-throated hymns written by dead followers, but now he only ever imagines the quietest tunes. Faith always seemed to be everywhere at once, thanks to the Bliss, but now she only seems to exist where John's memory allows.

Although the music fades as quickly as it came, John feels it echoing inside him. He closes his eyes against the bright afternoon light, but that doesn't do much to ease the pounding headache that's swiftly developing. He can feel his pulse against the hard-packed dirt when he drops his hands to the ground. Faith's laughter in his mind is quiet and playfully condescending as he's overwhelmed by the urge to stagger to the safety of the trees.

Nick abruptly appears in front of John, his worried face hidden under his hat. "Let's get you into the shade," he says, his voice warped by the blood rushing through John's ears. Nothing improves as Nick helps him to his feet and drags him under the shady pines. His head pounds as he collapses against one of the trees; when Nick puts the canteen in his hands, he takes a few grateful pulls of warm water until the headache begins to recede.

"Goddamn it, John," Nick says. "You have got to knock this shit off. You can't keep pushing yourself until you get sick. What am I supposed to do if you get heatstroke? Do you think we have unlimited supplies to keep dealing with your bullshit? I can't keep taking care of you."

"Whatever," John croaks. "I'm fine. I just need a minute."

"You can't seriously think I'm going to let you keep going. You must be delirious."

Taking one more long drink of water, John finally drops the canteen into his lap. "You don't understand," he rasps. "I'm not — it's here. I know it is, I just..."

Nick waits a beat before he takes up where John trails off. " You need to rest. You think Kim and I don't notice you're not eating or sleeping again? Hell, even Carmina notices, and she doesn't give a shit about you. How exactly are you supposed to be any use to us if you're like this all the time?"

John scowls, but he doesn't respond. How can he? Nick is right.

When all he gets is silence, Nick finally heaves a tired sigh and crouches down to John's level. "Look, we'll compromise, okay?" he suggests, with a tone he usually reserves for Carmina. "You're gonna rest here for me, and I'm gonna go dig another hole for you. If I don't find anything, we'll go back home and try again once you're better prepared."

He should resent Nick for treating him like a child, but John can only surrender with a weary nod. "I promise it's here," he says, hating how audible his misery is. "I know it is."

Nick scratches his brow. "I believe you," he says, although John doubts his sincerity. "We're gonna find it — maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but we'll do it. You, uh, want me to keep digging where we were, or..."

John sighs, slumping against the tree. "Yeah," he rasps. "Sure."

It's a miserable feeling, knowing that he's sending Nick on a wild goose chase, but John doesn't stop the other man from heading back out into the sun. He watches Nick pick a spot at seemingly random, drifting in and out as he waits for Nick to give up. He wouldn't even have to dig a full three feet before writing the whole thing off as one of John's delusions. John wishes Nick were that kind of man.

There's nothing there. That much is obvious when Nick finally stops digging, knee-deep in the hole and scrubbing furiously at his forehead. John knows just enough about Nick to suspect he'd genuinely hoped to find it — which just makes the defeat that much worse. John is used to disappointing himself, but letting Nick down stings.

"It's fine," John rasps when Nick returns, not waiting for platitudes or empty reassurances. "Let's just go."

Nick helps John to his feet again, and to make things worse, he keeps making suggestions. "Maybe we can find a tractor that still works. I bet there's probably a back-hoe somewhere in the county we could fix up. That might make it easier, right?"

They cut through the trees to reach the road, and John covers his eyes as they move back into the bright light. He turns back to look at the empty holes they've left behind — and for just a second, he can clearly see the bright red silo where it once stood. It's only a fleeting glimpse of the past, but it's as clear as if he were staring at it from Jacob's truck, enjoying the air conditioning while ignoring Jacob as he says, "So long as we're prepared, we can always start again."

"Wait," John says. "Hold on."

"Come on," Nick groans loudly, "It's hot, I'm tired, and this is getting depressing ."

John rolls his eyes, grabbing one of the shovels from the truck before Nick can stop him. "Fine," he says, "Go home, then."

"For God's sake..."

John ignores Nick as he takes five quick paces forward, turning and staring at the nonexistent silo. It hadn't been here, it had been...

The spot is mostly random, but as John drives the shovel into the dirt, he feels suddenly vindicated . He'd been thrown off by the trees, and it's hard to see just where the road ends these days, and of course he doesn't have the silo's long shadow to guide him. But now he knows better, and he isn't going to make the same mistakes again.

Nick pitches in, because of course he does. Even worse, he does it without complaint. Still, John needs the help; his burst of adrenaline has faded, leaving him to rapidly flag behind until Nick is picking up his slack. They don't talk as they dig, even as time wears on without any indication of them being in the right place. John doesn't think he has the energy to chat, and Nick probably just wants to yell at him, so silence is their best option. This hole could be as pointless as every other one they've dug today, but blind faith pushes John on to dig just a little deeper, just a little longer.

They hit three feet without finding anything. John twists the shovel between his palms, the tip churning the dirt.

"Okay, now are you satisfied?" Nick asks, flopping to the ground beside their latest waste of time. "Are you ready to wrap it up for today, or...?"

John shakes his head, not even realizing he's doing it. He doesn't even know what he's rejecting — the idea of giving up, or the idea that they might come back out here? Why the hell should they? Just because John thinks he might remember a cache of weapons Jacob buried a decade ago? What good would it even do, finding it now? Kim's already made it clear that they don't want more weapons. They want food, they want peace of mind, they want things to be the way they were . There is nothing that Eden's Gate could possibly give them that could help.

Nick slides closer, brow furrowed. "John," he says."

"I know ," John snaps, "I'm sorry . This was a waste of time. Forget it."

Picking up his abandoned shovel, Nick jabs the scoop into the hole, aiming for the wall beneath John's feet, and the motion is met with a metallic thunk . As John steps around for a better look, Nick taps the shovel upwards, until the scoop slides between the flash of half-hidden metal and the undisturbed earth above it. There's no mistaking the green enamel barrel that's revealed as the dirt falls away.

Dropping into the hole, John takes Nick's shovel and begins to heave the dirt away, scraping the scoop along the sides of the metal container until it's half-exposed in the ground. John can't help a triumphant shout as he reveals it, like a paleontologist discovering an unknown species.

Nick grabs the second shovel and pitches in, making short work of the dirt John can't reach. The steel drum is two feet tall and a foot or so wide, and John recognizes it from the Bliss packaging plant. Thankfully, it doesn't have a tight-head lid that implies the cannister is full of drugs. It looks utterly untouched, save for a few scratches from their shovels; the rubber sealant sprayed around the lid hasn't even cracked.

"Well, shit," Nick says, staring down at the barrel in open disbelief.

"I told you," John pants, vindicated. "I told you."

"Yeah, you sure did," Nick agrees, bobbing his head. "So... uh, what now? Do we open it up here, or take it home?"

John runs a hand over the glossy paint. As much as he wants to open it now, he can't help but remember Jacob's paranoia, reminded momentarily of how he had checked over and over for any spies or tails they might've gained while driving.

"It might be best to take it somewhere... less open," John points out. "We have no idea what's inside."

"Oh. Yeah, you're probably right."

It takes some finessing, but the two of them manage to wrestle the barrel out of the hole and, eventually, into the truck bed. Nick cranks the air conditioning as soon as he turns on the car, and John thankfully slumps into his seat as the cold air washes over him. After making a loose U-turn that narrowly misses the hole, Nick shakes the canteen in John's direction.

"Kim's gonna be pissed if she finds out I left you out in the sun like that," he says. "Try to get a hold of yourself before we get back, okay?"

Nick is terrible at sounding callous, but John isn't going to tell him as much. "Don't worry," he sighs. "I don't want her to know any more than you."

The drive back is mostly free of potholes, thanks to Nick's careful driving. John can't help but reaffirm the cache's existence every few minutes, checking the rear-view mirror to ensure it hasn't fallen out or disappeared like so many figments of his imagination have. He wonders what's inside. Certainly ammunition and weapons, but what else? Jacob had always been prepared for disasters, so it could have emergency kits or expired food rations. There will probably be money, too, although that won't help them now.

If Nick is also wondering, he keeps it to himself. He's relaxed in his seat, one arm hanging out his window, fingers occasionally tapping aimlessly against the door. He'll probably be satisfied no matter what Jacob decided to squirrel away, so long as it's not rotten food and Project propaganda. If that turns out to be the case, John will burn the contents himself.

The sun has half-set by the time they return to the Rye homestead. Nobody is waiting anxiously for their return, but it doesn't take long for Kim to come around the side of the house. She whistles appreciatively as the two men maneuver the barrel out of the bed.

"You guys actually found it!" she exclaims. "I thought it would take at least a few days."

"We got lucky," Nick replies. He doesn't mention how many holes they had to dig, or how rough the going had gotten near the end. John hopes that he looks better than he feels, at least to keep Kim from lecturing them.

Even though the cache is only about eighty or ninety pounds, it takes some careful footwork for the two men to carry it inside without dropping it. By the time they set the barrel down next to the table, Carmina has claimed one of the chairs, standing on it for a better look. Nick doubles back to the truck and returns with a crowbar, which will hopefully be enough to pry off the lid.

"What's inside?" Carmina asks, grabbing the back of the chair as she cranes forward.

"Well, hold on," Nick sighs, "Let me figure this out."

Unlike the barrels John remembers, this one isn't sealed with a tight-head valve at the top. Instead, it looks as though the lid had been hammered down into place, and then sprayed with rubber sealant to prevent gaps. It takes Nick a few tries to bury the crowbar's teeth under the lid, but he's rewarded by a satisfying groan of metal. The seal finally gives as part of the lid warps under the force.

Nick peels the lid back and John's heart leaps into his throat. Part of him expects a cloud of Bliss, or some kind of bomb, or a countdown to a new Armageddon. But there's no bomb, no Mist, no doomsday clock. Instead, John finds himself looking down at a bundle of nondescript green canvas, packed tightly alongside a cylindrical nylon bag.

" Well ?" Carmina asks.

John glances at Kim and Nick, only to find them staring back at him. It's as much an order as a request for help, and John steels himself before reaching in and grabbing the fabric. He recognizes the generic duffel bag as soon as he pulls it out — they had been ordered in bulk for the Project before they'd even reached Montana. While it isn't full, it definitely carries most of the cache's weight, and John has to adjust his grip as he sets it out on the table.

With the pack out of the way, Nick is less cautious about poking around in the remaining supplies. He takes the nylon bag out next, rattling the contents thoughtfully. "I think we've got a tent, here," he says, pulling open the drawstring to check. "Yeah, poles, stakes and everything."

There are two cardboard boxes inside, and Kim pulls out one at a time. "I think these are... rations?" she suggests, setting the boxes down next to the unopened bag. "That's what the packaging says, anyway. And this one, the heavier one? It's completely taped up."

"Could be dangerous," Nick suggests as Kim goes back to check for any remaining contents.

John stares at the duffel bag, his fingers feeling clumsy on the zipper tab. None of this feels right. Just how many times had he seen Jacob take bags like this one to his truck? How many of those had been full of supplies for a back-up plan he had never been made aware of? There's no sign of the Project so far, but John can't imagine that will last. What is he going to do when he reveals a bag full of propaganda in front of Carmina? There's no way Kim and Nick will believe he didn't know.

Careful not to rip the fabric, John steels himself with a breath and yanks on the zipper. He expects guns and ammunition, or copies of Joseph's book, or intel that would have been vital for rebuilding after the Collapse. Instead, John finds silver mylar bags, packed nearly to bursting, each one labeled in permanent marker. One reads "RICE (3LB, KEEP)," while another says "POTATO (.5LB, KEEP)" — and still another bag, this one with one clear side, has two cartons of instant coffee sealed inside.

There are guns, too, although not nearly enough. John is careful as he sets out the two .45 pistols tucked into the canvas, along with two boxes of matching ammunition and a few more boxes of miscellaneous shells that might come in handy. He inspects every box for any sign of the Project, but everything is utterly nondescript. Jacob might as well have picked these supplies up at a sporting goods store.

He keeps pulling things out until the bag is empty and the items are laid out across the table for the Ryes to see. Not only does John find more food, but he also finds a crank flashlight and a pair of binoculars, two bundles of paracord, a roll of unused duct tape, two sealed cartons of cigarettes, two pristine hunting knives and a deck of playing cards. The biggest surprise is the fact that Jacob risked packing away two bottles of unlabeled alcohol in a dry cache, but then again, Jacob had always had a soft spot for liquor. They'd been wrapped in plastic wrap and taped up tight, so if they leaked, it hasn't affected the other supplies.

There's more food than ammunition, John realizes. Rice, sugar, instant coffee, dry beef stock, not to mention the miscellaneous array of military rations that have been packed into every nook and cranny. It's hardly a cache. It's more like a squirrel's stockpile for a long winter.

"Did you guys see this?" Kim asks, leaning over Carmina to lay a small nylon pack on the table. She opens it carefully, revealing a tri-folded emergency pack stuffed with medical supplies. One use antiseptic wipes, gauze, bandages and more, all still in its factory packaging. John remembers seeing them stocked at Lorna's ages ago. It's the kind of emergency kit that tourists would buy once they realized just how unprepared they were for rural Montana.

"I thought this was supposed to be for the cult," Nick says, frowning at the supplies spread out on the table. "But most of this is stuff you'd get at the store. There's not even one of those fake Bibles in here or anything ."

"That's what he told me it was," John replies, although it feels uneasily close to a lie. "...At least, that's what I assumed. He had my people handle it, he shared its location with me... It had to be for the Project." Saying it aloud doesn't make him feel any more certain, but he can't imagine what else Jacob could have been planning. "What does it matter?" he quickly deflects, gesturing towards the eighty-some pounds of supplies. "Who cares what he was planning. It's yours now."

Unlike her parents, Carmina doesn't need to be told twice. She immediately drags the box of military rations closer to her chair, eager to devour any new literature, even if it's nutritional information and website reviews. Nick takes one of the knives and uses it to slice open the heavily taped box that they still haven't investigated. John can't imagine that it could be anything dangerous, given the rest of the cache's contents, but that doesn't mean he's any less on edge.

"Uh... huh," Nick says once he finally cracks the box open. "It's just more of the same. 'Two pounds rice, barter.' 'Two pounds sugar, barter.' But didn't he already pack some rice in the bag?"

Carmina points her finger at the offending bag. "It says 'keep' on it."

"I thought you guys were going to be the only survivors," Nick wonders, frowning heavily at John. "I mean, those weirdos have been keeping to themselves since they came back. And I got the impression that you weren't gonna be friendly neighbors ."

"There weren't supposed to be neighbors," John replies. "Anyone outside of the Project who survived were our enemies. This should have been..." He gestures helplessly, unable to figure out what Jacob should have squirreled away for the end of the world. "It should have been weapons. Project intelligence. None of this would have mattered if things had gone the way they were meant to. I don't — I don't know what he was planning with this."

Or maybe, he hadn't been listening when Jacob had talked about starting over.

"This... is too much," Kim says, tearing John away from that horrible thought before it can take hold. "Right? This is too much for us. We can't possibly keep it all."

"Excuse me?" John asks, unable to mask how deeply the comment offends him. "You're joking . I went through all of this for you ." He points at the sugar, the salt, and says accusingly, "These were on your list!"

"That's not what I mean, John."

John is getting sick and tired of being treated like a child today, but that doesn't mean he appreciates it when Nick takes the opposite route. "Don't be a baby," he groans. "You know what she meant."

"We'll keep what we need," Kim offers, "But we can't keep everything . It wouldn't be fair."

"And it'll look bad if we're the only ones who benefit," Nick adds. "They'll know it's because of you, and the cult, and they'll get the wrong idea. They might've shut up for now, but we don't know how long that'll last."

It's hard to fight the urge to run from the conversation, if only to keep himself from saying something stupid, but John manages to stay rooted to the spot. They're right, after all. They can't expect other people to turn a blind eye to anything beneficial John provides. Hell, he has no doubt somebody noticed them driving today. Somebody had to have seen them out in the dirt. It would only take a quick trip to find the holes they'd left behind.

"Yes," he mutters at last. It comes as a relief, followed immediately by his own admission. "You're both right. I know that."

Nick clearly expected more of a fight, if his relieved expression is anything to go by. "Good. Okay." He grabs one of the mylar bags as he sits, which holds two cartons of instant coffee. For a moment, he only stares at the red plastic through the clear side of the bag, and then he sighs. "Of course, now I wanna keep it all."

"We can keep the coffee," Kim says. "Or, well... we can keep some of it. We should probably give the rest up..."

It seems that doing the right thing in this situation has left the Ryes at a loss. Really, it shouldn't be a surprise. Even for a small cache, these are a lot of supplies, and there are no clear benefits to divvying it up in any particular way. On top of that, there had never been much structure to the Valley's resistance — unlike the Whitetails, people in the valley had relied on guerrilla tactics and appropriating the cult's infrastructure for their own use. The fight here had been over before they'd had time to organize.

"Well, I guess we give away whatever says 'barter' on it," Nick finally says. "And... I dunno. I mean, Jacob was meticulous as hell, right? Wouldn't he have known what to keep? Why did he only want to trade this stuff?"

"I don't know ," John snaps. "It isn't as though he planned for this. I have no idea what he would have done. I don't know why he thought to bury this shit in a field! If this was going to be a backup plan, then there should be money, passports, blackmail — something to help him get out of trouble. Not — not cooking supplies and playing cards . This isn't what he was supposed to be doing with his time!"

The realization that John had never really known Jacob cuts deeper than he'll ever admit. John breathes hard through his nose, trying desperately to grab hold of his ballooning anger. He'd known Jacob hadn't taken the religious aspect of the Project seriously, but that hadn't meant he didn't believe in the Project's end goal. He'd been more integral to their success than John, for God's sake! The bunkers had been his idea!

But Jacob had been pragmatic. If he had felt even a twinge of doubt, he would have made plans to account for it. But if that were the case, why would he have shown his hand to John like he had, when John had been so deeply entrenched? Why risk Joseph finding out? Why not play this as close to his chest as John had played all of his own secret betrayals?

"I don't know what he would do," John manages to say. There's a tangled knot of emotion balled up inside his chest, but like so many other things, he forcibly sidelines it. "It doesn't matter what he wanted. He's dead now. All of it is yours."

Kim hears his voice catch, it's clear from her expression, but she thankfully doesn't comment on it. "Well, let's think about it logically," she says. "For one, I think Grace could use some of the ammunition. She might appreciate some coffee, too, Nick."

"Yeah, I guess," Nick says mournfully. "There are two boxes, after all."

Kim chews thoughtfully on her lip, then pivots towards John. "You had to deal with directing resources, right?" she asks. "I remember all of the deliveries coming in and out of the Ranch."

"They won't trust any decisions I make," John replies, trying to cut the suggestion off at the head.

"I'm sure they wouldn't, but I'm not asking for you to make a decision. Just... You know more about this than we do, and I want your input."

John frowns, looking towards Nick for an objection. Unfortunately, Nick doesn't have one, although he doesn't look happy about Kim's request.

Sighing, John considers the groups they need to satisfy. Between Grace, the town, the trailer park and themselves, it's unlikely they'll have much to store, but a surplus would be ideal in case they need to bargain with people coming in from the west. John doesn't like the idea of giving the weapons away, but they would be an easy way to ingratiate the Ryes to anyone still upset at them for taking him in. He wants nothing more than to keep the alcohol and cigarettes, but those would be better as bargaining chips.

He starts by breaking the ammunition up, followed by the mylar bags, until the random array on the tabletop begins to separate out into four distinct piles. Seeing the resources shift in real time is the easiest way to ensure things are balanced, but John remains fully aware of the three sets of eyes on him as he begins to take over the table. While Kim and Carmina move to give John more space, Nick remains seated the entire time, his arms crossed and his eyes on the food that John is moving from one pile to another. He's clearly worried that the family will wind up with too little. He probably feels guilty that he wants to take more from others who could use the supplies.

When he's mostly finished, John has five piles organized across the table — one for each group, plus one comprised of larger bags they'll need to separate. Hopefully, they won't comment on how much he's chosen to keep for them — if they disagree with his decisions, they can wait until he escapes for the night to argue about it.

Kim had been right, though. John had been the one to schedule deliveries, redirect supplies and organize Reaping trucks; hopefully they can appreciate his choices, even if they decide not to listen to him.

"Here's what we have," he says. "The ammunition is split between everyone, as well as the rations. Given the town's location and size, they'll be better off with basic ingredients. They already have hunting equipment and usable cookware. We haven't seen the trailer park, but it's in hostile territory, and I don't think they dedicate time to cooking, so we give them more rations to make up for it. The cigarettes will be a gesture of goodwill, and they can use the sugar more than any one group. At the very least, it means they won't be ingesting straight ethanol for a few days."

Nick sniffs loudly, but neither he nor Kim interrupt, so John pushes forward. "You keep the components," he explains, "But give Grace the knives and whatever ammunition she needs. We can split the rice evenly, but it won't be very much. It would be better to keep it for ourselves, or else give it to one group alone."

"Still seems like a lot is left for us," Kim points out.

"Then you give the rest of it away," John says through gritted teeth. "I did what you asked me to do. This is what makes sense."

Kim nods. "You did, and I appreciate it."

John wishes she would appreciate what Jacob did instead, but he holds the comment back. It's his exhaustion talking, or the long day, or the lingering headache from the heat. None of those things are worth risking the shred of goodwill he's garnered with the Ryes. And the longer he hangs around here, the more likely it is that Nick or Kim will do something to really upset him.

"If that's everything, then it's been a long day. I need some..." Space , he wants to say, but he can only tiredly commit to, "I need some air."

"Sure," Kim says. She tries to mask her pity, but there's no hiding it. "Just don't go too far. Dinner's almost ready."

As if John is going to eat anything. But he keeps that comment to himself as well, knowing that it'll just start a fight that he's too tired to win. Besides, watching the Ryes go through Jacob's supplies and divvy them out the way they'd prefer might be too much for him to handle right now. He needs to put some distance between himself and his brother, even if it's only the short walk to the front porch.

#fc5 #fcnd #john seed #nick rye #far cry new dawn #far cry 5 #p sure its only the first few tags but fuck it #also i actually love turkish delight so that's a legit comment #not just a reference to dumb narnia #my fic #mercyverse

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bohemiansweede · 5 years ago

Text

The Sun & The Moon Ch 3

Fanfic

Pairing Roger Taylor Brian May Reader

Warnings Smut 🔞

A/N Ch 1 - 2 in my masterlist and 4-7 is soon below

Please like and reblog or if you want leave a comment

Thank you

~~~~~~~~~

When the guys came back they saw the mess, you had bent yourself down on the floor trying to pick up the pieces and did not see all the burning looks behind you

Brian looked at Roger (who had been found grumpy in a cupboard only because they didn't like his song) he was standing with wide eyes and his mouth open but quickly looked away when he saw that Brian was looking at him

- Darling.. Freddie said, it is ok, we can help you

You almost jumped when you heard his voice, and did not even realize that your skirt had risen up and you had your ass in the air

He held out his hand and helped you up on your feet

You looked around and saw that all eyes approached you, Brian was the first to slide of, he went to the coffeemachine, took his favourite mug and started to pour

- The dinner is ready in one hour guys, Lisa came in and almost spild out Brians coffee

They all soon disappeared to the studio again and you could breathe...

- I guess there is no idea to ask what happend here

- No, please don't you said and swiped the floor

During the dinner later on John Reid spoke about the upcoming tour, you heard every other word and just picked around in your food. You found it hard to eat while the others were there, perhaps you could eat somewhere else or another time, no.. that would look even more weird

- Y/N Are you ok? John were concerned

- Yes I am.. Thank you, just tired

- We can all cook too you know.. Ehh.. Or maybe not.. Freddie said, Hey I have an idéa why not we all go into town tomorrow and eat at the pub?

- Yeah we can all need a break Deacy filled in

- So it is decided then! Tomorrow!!

Everyone raised their glasses

- Tomorrow!!!

A lump began to grow at once in your tummy, you really tried to avvoid them as much as you could But now you should eat together in a restaurant

The responses around the table were mixed

Brian looked down as usual Roger meet your eyes and smiled but then looked away John and Freddie cheered and klinged your glass. Lisa tried to read your face But you just shooked your head and exused yourself.

You went to bed early

Lisa got your message and maked yet another breakfast and you got yourself some well needed sleep you went into the shower, as soon as you got inside you could clearly scent that a man had been there before you, but who? Your stomach fluttered a little.. Did you want to know?

Your head was a mess of thoughts and feelings, all of your thinking had not maked your mind any clearer

You felt both butterflies and anxiety for the upcoming dinner, just the thought of them being there for hours, you all little drunk, their burning looks on you

You rolled your eyes and shaked your head, you had to stop think now

Lisa was already on her way deciding clothes when you came out from the shower

- What are you wearing tonight? Nearly jumping up and down on the bed of exightement

- I have no idea

- Well at least you have to show off your curvs

- They have already seen them

- Omg you are dull try not look like you always do then. C'mon borrow my new dress, that two pieced one. It can also be a way to really check Brian once and for all.... Ehh.. and Rog

- Ohh I cannot take your dress Lisa

- It is already set.. Done.. You are wearing it.. And your hair down please

You did not see them for the whole day, so when the time arrived you met them outside on the yard

- Evening daaaaarrllliiinnggsss Freddie was already little tipsy, you look wonderful both of you, he greated you with cheek kisses and hugs

John was fast behind him and smiled gently, he was always such a sweetheart

They both looked very good

Sun was about to set when you saw Roger. His blond hair almost shined like gold in the evening sun he wore a black trousers and striped shirt, he smiled at you and gaved you a soft kiss on the cheek

- Looking gorgeous Y/N..his eyes trailed down, your whole body tingeled

You spotted Brian behind him, he nodded and just gaved you a short hug

What was it with him?

You ended up in the same car as Freddie and the both Johns it felt like a safe ride

Of course they had drinks in the car, according to Freddie there is always something to celebrate

By the time you got to the restaurant you felt little tipsy from the champagne

It was pretty crowded at the restaurant and you were thankful that Reid reserved table for you all

You decided to sit among thoose you had company with in the car

Lisa sat at the other end of the table and waved at you

Wine, beer and other spirits were served frequently and glasses klinged

You tried to concentrate on the menu or at least pretend so

Lisa struggeled to get eye contact with you, she hinted that you were going to the ladiesroom so you exused yourself

- Y/N You cannot avvoid them forever

- But Brian clearly said he did not want any distractions so it is a no with him I guess

- I know, but what about Roger, he is pretty drunk now, but he is always looking at you in a special way

- Omg Lisa I cannot go thru the whole band plus I am pretty sure he is just after a quick shag, been a while since he had his groupies now right?

- I know what you mean but give the poor man a chance he is really really sweet

- Did he say anything to you?

- No not in words, but you can clearly see it

You rolled your eyes and nodded

- Lisa my food is getting colder every minute

You left the bathroom and on the way back to your seat you passed Rogers chair and brushed his shoulders with your hips

- Sorry you said

His face turned up against you and he blushed while looking down again on his empty plate

Freddie laughed

When you all had finished your meals some ordered more drinks, some wanted coffee and dessert But you wanted more currage in your system and added yet another drink

You saw that John went to the jukebox, he had the nickname Disco-Deacy for a reason

Roger was fast up to join him and they both looked on the list, finally decided to go for a fast discosong Diana Ross voice and rythm vibrated in the restaurant

The whole table rumbled and Everyone got up to dance, but not Brian, but you did not want to sit alone with him so you joined the others

Roger wrinkled his nose to the song but danced along anyway clearly he was more into rock'nroll

John was waisted but totally owned the floor and danced to everything on the list, he did not care, everyone had a great time you turned around and saw that Brian had fallen asleep at the table.

You danced a few fast songs, but when you heard " The Beatles - And I love her" you decided to leave the dancefloor

You felt a hand on your shoulder and turned around and almost bumped into his chest

Roger smiled and he looked so handsome, the whole room spun around you

- Y/N, May I have this dance

- I.. I love to

You felt his strong arms around your waist his hand were placed just on your bare skin your heart beat increased and you lingered yours wrists around his neck, you tilted your head so you came closer

He felt warm, maskulin, smelled soooo good, .. You recognized the smell from the shower you had and felt your cheeks blush

His warm breath in your neck gaved you goosebumps all over

The song ended abruptley by yet another fast disco song John smiled, the magic was boken, Roger looked deep into your eyes But you were sweped away by John

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

To be continued

Enjoy more reading in my masterlist

None of the pictures and gifs are mine

Credit to the owners

#Queen #queen smut #Roger taylor #roger taylor x reader #Roger taylor smut #brian may smut #brian may x reader #brian may #fanfic #Smut #70s

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kinktae · 5 years ago

Note

holy crap!! I just noticed y/n’s family in bitchin is like stranger things !!!! I love that sm omg love it so far btw ♡

YESSSS thank u for noticing!! I have a lot of fun with writing bitchin i do hehe

(warning: literal 80 asks under the cut)

Anonymous said: not @ me reading bitchin’ during math literally SLAMMING YHE DESK

crystalsnowd said: I LOVED BITCHINNNN OMG UR SO TALENTED I CANT WAIT FOR THE NEXT PART

Anonymous said: I was going to stay up to wait for Bitchin but I went to sleep instead because today is my first day of school (second year of university) so I decided to get sleep while I still could. Also I read the update on the train sitting next to a random lady and I really hope she didn’t look over at my phone lol. I loved the update and I can’t wait for the rest of the series!!!

Anonymous said: OMG BITCHIN WAS SO GOOD! You're such an amazing writer!!!

jun-sohyunnie-dotnet said: Just an fyi, bitchin' jk is my FAVORITE jk I've ever had the pleasure of reading. Ever. He could stomp all over me and I'd thank him profusely. (And you're writing is absolutely captivating 🥺💕💕)

sugarkinky said: Bitchin just wrecked me for real, U ARE AWESOME ROSE mierda que te amo chica ¿cómo consigues escribir así? Eres perfecta ❤

Anonymous said: Bruh bitchin was everything I wanted and more thank u baby

Anonymous said: Bitchin’ is amazing! I have so many feelings ahhhh!!! I love you and your work 🥺

awkwardaegyo said: YOU HAVE GOT ME SO THIRSTY FOR JUNGKOOK FUCKIN PARCHED D-HYDRATED IF YOU WILL BITCHIN HAS GOT ME FUCKEC UP!!!!!

Anonymous said: Bitchin' is literally my favourite fic right now, it's so good! 😍 Can't wait for the next part!!

gardenofrosesx said: Im in love with bitchin 🥺💗 I think that the song that represent it so well is Wait a minute by Willow Smith, every time a hear it I imagine this fic💗 I send you thousands of good vibes and love and peace to your side! Keep going 💗

Anonymous said: Ahhhh I just wanted to say bitchin is absolutely amazing and is so well written and I’m just completely hooked!!! YOU DID AMAZING!!! Also is there gonna be angst in future chapters BECAUSE IM REALLY NOT READY IF BOTH JUNGKOOK AND OC DENY THEIR FEELINGS FOR EACH OTHER

Anonymous said: girl, I finally got around to reading bitchin' and I CAN'T BELIEVE I DIDN'T READ IT SOONER. it's been a while since I've found a chaptered fic that kept my interests but I was hooked with pt 1!!! I love your spin on tatbilb, and I love the characters you created. I have to honestly say, I'm also absolutely in love with the way you write. your descriptions and dialogue hit me in all the right places. I can't wait to see where this story takes me. thank you for doing what you do!

Anonymous said: Love Bitchin so far!

Anonymous said: i keep rereading bitchin pt. 5😭😭 love it so much

Anonymous said: hi!! I just wanted to leave an ask and let you know that you’re one of my absolute favorite authors and your work is incredible!! the concept behind your rewind series is so unique and interesting and all of the stories have been wonderful so far. I’m so looking forward to the rest of bitchin’ because it has been so so so good and I love the way that you’re developing the characters and the plot. I hope you have a wonderful day!!

Anonymous said: just finished bitchin 5 and ................ i cant believe how ure able to write jungkook to Life and characterize him in such an attractive way it makes it so artistic and aknejdjdj it’s art it’s everything

Anonymous said: Argh the grind is real! I’m about to start my exams too so we can both be working our asses off! Also Bitchin is such a great series and I wanted to let you know you’re an amazing writer!!! The series made me so emotionally invested in the characters and I can’t get enough of it!! ITS SO GOOODDD THANK YOU FOR WRITING SUCH A MASTERPIECE

sanniinnas said: Hiii! Love your writings soo much! You have such a talent with words! You inspire me as a writer and make me want to learn writing and English better.

Anonymous said: I am seriously laughing from the asks that have been send to you and i cannot wait to read the ff because now i am busy :( also random fact, my biology teacher told us aboit Rosa Franklin and i already knew about her, and all i could keep thinking was bitchin pt5 and i started laughing. They thought i was a maniac 😎🤙

Anonymous said: just wanted to say bitchin’ is *chefs kiss* and i can’t wait for part 7 🥺 i’m not trynna rush you i’m just excited 🥺

nochusbutt said: okay but FIRST OF ALL, YES BITCHIN’ YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS. secondly, my name is Rose too I’m so, what? omg yes I literally share a name with a legend. quote me!! 🥰☺️🤪

Anonymous said: Ahhh I am so excited for Bitchin Pt 6!!! No exaggeration this is my all time favorite fic, I think ab it a lot honestly. Whenever I see 80s aesthetic BTS edits I think of Bitchin and lots of love songs make me think of this fic too. I’m not a huge fan of smut but this fic is just so good. The OCs and Jks interactions are precious and I’m obsessed with the 80s theme! I am a huge fan of angst so I am ready to cry my eyes out. Thank you for writing this amazing fic

Anonymous said: aight...time to go re-read bitchin again ....[insert /ah shit, here we go again/ video]

Anonymous said: I CANT WAIT FOR BITCHIN

hear-me-growl said: Wait! Bitchin' is not done?! It's one of my favourite fics ever! I love the whole cliche college vibe, the dialogues are sooo good and the chemistry between Jk and the girl it's just perfect, really. And now you tell me it's not finished.😱 I AM SO EXCITED! you've made my day! Keep up the good work, you are amazing 😍

Anonymous said: AAAAAAAA THE BITCHIN UPDATE WAS SO GOOD !!!!! but also Kiri that bItCh y/n don’t fall for it 🤡😩

Anonymous said: i want sleep but BITCHIN

Anonymous said: IM PUMPED FOR BITCHINYYYYYYYYYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Anonymous said: Thankyou for updating bitchin sis!!!! But im so sad because this is their first fight(?) i hope they can talk about it and hoping kiri doesnt talk nonsense tp y/n ok :( but I AM GLAD JUNGKOOK REALIZE HE LIKES OC OKEY OKEY! 💜💜💜 sending 💜💜💜💜 to you because you deserve it👏🏼

diortae said: rose I have class in a few minutes and all I can think about is how much I want bitchin jk to raw me what have u DONE

Anonymous said: BITCHIN WAS GREATTTT 🥰 RLLY CANT WAIT FOR THE NEXT CHAPTT 🥺🥺

sunnyoongles said: bitchin is literally so good*chefs kiss* i love angst*chefs kiss* i love drama*chefs kiss* i just love the whole rewind series*chefs kiss*

Anonymous said: BITCHIN’ PART 6 EXCUSE ME STOP TRYING TO HURT MY FEELINGS IM NOT READY FOR THE ANGST

ppampin said: so yesterday i read bitchin pt. 6 three times in a row because it was just so good and now i can't wait to pt. 7 to come out

Anonymous said: Finally got to read bitchin 6, WTF IS GOING ON!? I’m so confused!! Do I trust my so called boyfriend or do I trust “girl code” by my boo’s ex who tried to scare me away from my boo the first time we met ??!!?

Anonymous said: i really need to know something about bitchin 🤔 is kiri a bitch or we don't have feminine rivalry here? help me out rose

Anonymous said: It is almost 1 am in here and I have a morning class but guess who is gonna binge re read all the Bitchin because the last chapter was so good?? 🤔

Anonymous said: I’m so ready for you to break our hearts in bitchin. I live for the angst 😭😭😪

Anonymous said: Rose you are KILLING ME with this story like I'm not even caught up on my favorite TV shows this week but goddammit I still made time for Bitchin' 💕💕💕

cheeky-kookie said: Girl I am sooooo fucking happy with Bitchin' 6. Like I love the small progressions Jungkook is having coming to terms with his actual feelings with Y/N. Also btw, loving the whole Yara/Tae moments going on ;) As always, I'm in love. Thank you for blessing us with this masterpiece

Anonymous said: Rosie !! I just read Bitchin’ and BIIIIITCH you have my feelings on a rollercoaster !!!!!! I’ve never been so invested in a fanfic like this and imma tell you how much I appreciate you for putting your work out on the internet. Especially for free like wtf ! Your writings are some quaLITY shit that I would purchase without hesitation 👌🏽👏🏽 I was wondering if you ever considered going into the writing career ? Anyways have a lovely day 💛💛 -MC

Anonymous said: This ch 6 getting all the attention away from my precious zombie Jungkook 😤 But who am I to say I love Bitchin😂😍 This Kiri better not be playing dirty games we are already not in good terms with her 🧐 And why is nobody talking about the fact that Y/N finally got her event she dreamed of?? Congrats girlll 🎊🎉🥳👌👏

Anonymous said: EXCUSE ME DID I READ THAT U SAID BITCHIN WILL BE ANGSTY FROM HERE ON OUT WBAT MY HEART I CANG FJSHSHDJS

sapphireprinces5 said: I am 1000% not ready for angst between the precious y/n and Jungkook in Bitchin’ omfg i’m honestly terrified and going to buy some tissues from the cvs across the street

Anonymous said: I JUST FINISHED READING BITCHIN 6 AND JUNGKOOK PLS TELL ME THAT JUNGKOOK IS OVER KIRI )))): he couldn’t have been lying about the way he felt for y/n even though it was reheated, right??? I’m SADD. But Rose, you are so beyond talented!!! I love reading your works!!!

Anonymous said: Ok, Rose you gotta let me know if Bitchin’ will have a happy ending, because I don’t know if my emotions can handle an upseti spaghetti ending. Anywho I love you and your writing, everything is chefs kiss. 💗

Anonymous said: bitchin will have 10 parts?????? ma'am u got the power

Anonymous said: OKAY SO BITCHIN’ IS AMAZING AND LIKE— I LOVE (1) DUMB “”””COUPLE”””” Your writing is amazing omg

Anonymous said: Me: already read bitchin completely You: reblogs pt.6 Me: a little refresher wouldn’t hurt 👀

Anonymous said: I wish u the best during your hiatus!!! Take lots of care bby :3 Just wanted to tell you how much I love the 'Bitchin' series, I'm shooketa at how well written it is. Y/N is a really refreshing character, especially as an STEM major myself, it's so relatable to some extent, especially when it comes to appreciating compliments about your inteligence, that really got me, since it's kinda unsual. I hope I found a Jungkook one day then :') jk, but really, I absolutely loved it, you're the best!!!

Anonymous said: hi just so u r aware if u make the end of bitchin’ sad i will cry. that will be on u. my tears will be UR fault.

Anonymous said: i just wanted to say thank you. when bitchin’ came out, there was a part where y/n talks about why she hated her twin sisters. it was comforting to know that i wasn’t alone in feeling uncool or boring. i never brought up my brother because i thought people would see how uncool i was and so i put my effort into school instead. thanks for bringing me comfort and for pushing me to love myself more and to change my viewpoints on the parts of myself i view as boring!!!!! 💛💛💛💛💛💛🌼

this made me :’))) i love knowing that you can find comfort in my characters!!! there is a little piece of me in all my characters but I do try to make them all somewhat different so that other people can relate. best of luck lovely!!

purplealiensblog said: Yo ily and cant wait for the next chapter of bitchin but i have to share: i got a notif on a new chapter and was all excited and then i discover its tumblr being glitchy again and notifying me on the last one :( i hope you will find time soon to write the rest and thank you for writing i love your work🥰♥️

Anonymous said: BITCH I JUST FINISHED READING BITCHIN IN JUST ONE DAY AND NOW I’M CRYING BECAUSE THIS IS MY NEW FAVORITE FIC OF ALL TIME!!!.!.!.! (also sorry my bad englisheu i’m not native lmao)

Anonymous said: HELLO LOVELY AAAAAAAA IM HAPPY YOURE BACK 😩 are u reallyback tho? Hehe im so shookt with the new chapter of bitchin’ has me yearning for more😭 im def a proud bitchinator😔👏 tHANK YOU FOR THIS GIFT BEFORE CHRISTMAS😃 WE LOVE U!!!!💜 we MISSED YOU!! 💜 i hope u are loved and happy and cared for! 💜K

Anonymous said: Hi there !!I hope your doing well ! Taking your time to recover and work on yourself I literally just finshed bitchin to the last update and oof I just gotta tell you what the f How do you write the characters so well... I love me some good characterization like oof ICANNOT JJK IS SO I WANNA SMOOSH HIM IN MY ARMS LIKE PLEASE THE STORY IS ABSOLUTELY AMAZING HAHA I HOPE IM NOT SCARING YOU WITHMY CAPSLOCK I just wish to sincerely get my excitement across hahaha I love you boo take care x

nonecesitodenadie said: I rarely send asks but... I'm reading bitchin and I'M LOVING IT, really it's amazing i hope that you can continue it, i send you much love and thanks for your work you're so talented 🥺❤️

Anonymous said: can i just say bitchin' is honest to god such a good good good fic like i'm so in l*ve with it 😩 i've probably reread it thrice waiting for a new update ): i also happen to love your other works so much as well!!

sydney--chan said: Okay so no cap yesterday I was talking to my friend (who also reads your work) about me and my bf n she was like "he loves you the way Bitchin' jk loves Y/N aND I SOBBED ROSE IT MADE ME CRY FOR HOURS

usagionthem00n said: Lol I know you’ve been kinda quiet on here BUT IM HERE TO PLATONICALLY HARASS U???(tbh idk I’m just trying to find a reason to bother you) I-I miss u 👉👈 HOPE THIS POST MADE U SMILE ILL BE BACK BITCH (Um speaking of bitches I still need to join the bitchinators :/) I PROMISE ILL GET TO IT!!!

Anonymous said: HIIII! so, one night I spent about two hours trying to find another great Jungkook story... I was losing hope in finding one BUT THEN I FOUND “BITCHIN” and omg it’s amazing, I absolutely love it!!!!! take care always, have a great day!! thank you for creating such a beautiful story.

Anonymous said: Can I just say.... bitchin is so good! like it’s been so long since I’ve liked a fic as much as bitchin??!!? Everything about it has me like :)))) so yes just wanted to let u know hehe

Anonymous said: IM ACTUALLY OBSESSED W THE “BITCHIN” SERIES YOU DONT EVEN KNOW 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

SO MANY OF U LOVIN ON BITCHIN!! MAYHAPS IM OVERWHELMED (in the best way possible). Thank u everyone who sent an ask in, i am the happiest bean in bed rn reading all these asks C:

#ask #I DID ITTTTT #jk tho there are actually a few more ones about bitchin but imma make another post I think #Anonymous

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artificialqueens · 5 years ago

Text

you and i– we’re defying gravity ch. 3 (scyvie) - amelieee

a/n:

wow, i’ve been consistently hitting my deadlines, what a shocker! here’s another chapter for this godforsaken fic. thank you to those who’s been supporting me (i’m looking at you, scyvie discord) and my friend althea for betaing this!

also, this is very branjie centric, but i promise this’ll be the only chapter that focuses on the more than yvie and scarlet. if you know wicked, you know what will happen to them anyways.

follow me @and-oddly-enough and reblogs + likes are appreciated!

word count: 10.5k

Last chapter: Yvie and Scarlet get used to each other being roommates, Yvie finds out Vanjie is studying at the same place, and something bad is happening at Oz.

This chapter: Scarlet and Yvie team up to hook both Brooke and Vanjie together, Scarlet hosts a dance party, and Yvie realizes something really important.

In the middle of class—for the hundredth time, Scarlet nudges Yvie’s elbow subtly. Yvie was so close to let out a growl of annoyance at Scarlet but manages to hold it back when she realizes that she still was in the middle of Professor Hides’ boring literature class. Though Professor Hides was old and bordering on deaf and blind, Yvie knows that when she lets out a growl, there’d be lots of reactions, and their professor might finally notice them.

Getting back to Scarlet, Yvie mouths a ‘no’ at Scarlet, hoping she wouldn’t bother her anymore. Apparently, she thought this was the best time to pass notes in class. Not to Yvie but to Ra’jah who was literally sitting at the opposite end of the room. The reason she kept bothering Yvie was that Yvie can subtly pass the note to Ra’jah through her telekinesis so their professor wouldn’t notice. Even if she was blind, they were close enough to the front; which makes passing notes pretty risky.

“Come on, just do it, pretty please?” Scarlet whispers softly, giving a little pout. “Y’know I won’t stop bugging you anyways,” Scarlet adds and Yvie wants to sigh. Instead, she just rolls her eyes and nods. With a wave of her finger, the note flew across the room silently to Ra’jah. Even if most of their classmates saw it, Yvie knows that they’d be too faithful to Scarlet to ever snitch on her. After Yvie passes it, she watches Ra’jah patiently, waiting for her to finish her reply so Yvie can send back the note to Scarlet.

Yvie doesn’t even know what’s so important that will prompt the couple to pass notes in class. To Yvie, it was immensely childish, and she knew Scarlet and Ra’jah were much better than that. Then again, Yvie caught a glimpse of that note a while ago. It was quick since she knew Scarlet was watching, but she definitely saw the words ‘Vanjie’ and ‘Brooke’ written on the paper. At the moment, they were sharing a class with them as well, but the two of them were seated next to each other at the corner of the classroom. Sometimes, Yvie would see Scarlet be distracted by how flirty the other two are being. Yvie doesn’t blame her, though. She’d occasionally look back as well since they’ve been quite bothersome yet adorable at the same time.

It’s actually been a month since they first started interacting. Yvie noticed how close they’ve been judging by how lonely Yvie was for the past month. Every other day, Brooke and Vanjie would ditch Yvie and Scarlet to have their own thing, and even if they were undeniably cute, Yvie felt glum that she was all alone at her own table. Yvie was still obviously happy for Brooke, of course; it would be petty to hog Brooke for herself only. Even so, it did remind Yvie how friendless she was. The only friends she deemed as ‘friends’ besides her sister and Vanjie were Ra’jah, Shuga, and Scarlet. Over the month, they grew more comfortable with her, and Yvie in return found them interesting and enjoyable as well. Scarlet was the only exception to that since she still showcases her distaste in Yvie occasionally. Well, at least the insults weren’t a daily thing. To Yvie, that was already a sign of progress on their relationship.

Because despite the jabs and sarcastic remarks, Yvie did enjoy Scarlet’s company a bit more nowadays. Her delusions were entertaining and even if they don’t want to admit it, their humor was so similar. What she thought was a horrible situation slowly became bearable.

“Hey, rat bastard, pass the note back,” Scarlet whispers harshly, her eyes pointing at Ra’jah. Yvie gives her a scowl. She did mention it was bearable but their relationship wasn’t the best, obviously.

“Why do you have to drag rats into this?” Yvie whispers back as she waves her finger in the air without even looking at Ra’jah. That one month of sorcery lessons from Madame Visage does have good use, at least. The note lands gracefully on Scarlet’s table as Scarlet merely rolls her eyes at Yvie. Scarlet begins unfolding the note and once she reads Ra’jah’s reply, she immediately perks up, her lips widening into a bright smile. This definitely made Yvie curious but she wholeheartedly did not want to get caught by Professor Hides.

Thankfully, Scarlet didn’t send back another note in the last thirty minutes they had class. But once class ended, surprisingly, Scarlet grabbed Yvie directly and dragged her, Ra’jah, Shuga, and Vanjie out of the classroom before Yvie even registered what was going on. Yvie didn’t even know why she was so thrown off by Scarlet grabbing her hand— maybe it was the suddenness of it all. Either way, Yvie only processed what was happening halfway through their trip to somewhere and began protesting against whatever Scarlet had in mind.

“The fuck is going on, Scarlet?” Yvie asks as she shakes Scarlet’s hand off. Yvie realizes her cheeks are slightly red. Maybe it was from exhaustion?

“Hey, we were going to head to the same place anyways so stop complaining,”

“No, as in, what must be so important that you decided to literally drag Ra’jah, Vanjie, and I out of class in such a rush?”

“Yea, maybe ask next time?” Vanjie adds, clearly infuriated she didn’t get to walk Brooke to her class.

“I literally dragged you out to talk to you about my plan of hooking you and Brooke together but go off, I guess.” Scarlet says with a smirk as she begins climbing the stairs. After that, Vanjie immediately sputters, startled by what Scarlet said. Ra’jah laughs a bit, already knowing of the plan, but Yvie and Shuga were simply curious at to what shit Scarlet has came up with.

“I–I can–uh, I can do that fine by myself, you hoe,” Vanjie replies but her voice was shaky and uncertain. Yvie snorts at how pathetic she was.

“Oh honey, don’t lie to us, you stupid lesbian,” Shuga says and it makes everyone laugh loudly except for Vanjie. Vanjie musters up a fake chuckle but she still sounded infuriated. “Aw, Vanjie, sweetie, I’m joking,” Shuga adds and Vanjie pouts at her.

“You guys don’t know how hard it is!” Vanjie exclaims and everyone stares at her in disbelief.

“You’ve known Brooke for like, fifteen years, but go off I guess,” Yvie says and Vanjie flushes. Shuga mutters ‘stupid lesbian’ again and it brings out a soft laugh from everyone.

“Hey! This is bullying, I’m leaving,” Vanjie says, stopping her steps mid-step. Scarlet was quickly alarmed and grasped Vanjie’s hand before she could bail. Scarlet really seemed persistent and she undoubtedly trusted her plan wholeheartedly.

“No! Don’t— don’t leave, I promise this will 100% work,” Scarlet says and Vanjie quirks up an eyebrow.

“How d’ya know? Firstly, you almost failed at maths, and secondly you’re delusional as fuck.”

“And who has a girlfriend between the two of us?”

Vanjie stayed silent for a second until she sighed and said, “I fucking hate you,”. Ra’jah and Shuga laugh in amusement as they proceed to walk another level up. Yvie silently trails behind, oddly feeling slightly off even if she didn’t understand why. She really must be catching some sort of fever, or maybe she was immensely overworked. Either way, she needed to give herself some time to rest.

Eventually, they all make it to Scarlet’s suite. Like always, it smelled like fresh roses and was always neat and tidy just because Scarlet loved it that way. Yvie was suspicious of her eagerness to be tidy but after a couple of days, Yvie praised it a lot. After all, Yvie was not the… cleanest of people. Her room back in Munchkinland was a dumpster fire wherein everything she had was just tossed around the room.

“God, I wish I lived here,” Shuga stated, “It’s like heaven in this room. Meanwhile, Tammie and I have been fuckin’ around in our small-ass room. Nothing’s tidy,” Shuga adds as she sits down on Scarlet’s bed primly. Scarlet and Ra’jah join her while Vanjie tackles Yvie’s bed, faceplanting herself unto the bedsheets. Yvie takes off her heels as well and joins Vanjie, lying back down into her bed in relief.

“And our room is much worse than that, right Vanj?” Ra’jah says and Vanjie only replies by raising a thumbs up in the air which prompts a few people to laugh.

“Why, thank you, I work pretty hard on this since my asshole of a roommate doesn’t understand the concept of organizing,” Scarlet says shoots Yvie a judgmental glare. Yvie raises the bird in reply, too exhausted to reply some kind of witty insult back. “Anyways, back to the main topic at hand. I think I have a foolproof plan to get Vanjie and Brooke together. Or actually, this is more of a plan for their first date since I know Vanjie isn’t good with planning dates,”

“Hey, that was with Aquaria and that was one time–”

Scarlet abruptly continues her spiel, “I will reserve the Ozdust Ballroom for this–I have all the money in the world to do so–and we’re gonna hold a dance party for Vanjie and Brooke.” Scarlet explains excitedly but no one seemed to reciprocate the same anticipation as her. They all seemed a bit perplexed– even Vanjie sat up from her position to look at Scarlet with concern.

“Scarlet, I love you, but you are a fucking dumbass,” Vanjie says, disgruntled.

Scarlet, with an offended expression, replies back, “Thanks, really appreciate you saying that for the hundredth time,” She leans back against the headboard with crossed arms.

“I dunno about you but last time I checked, Brooke’s legs were still tangled,” Vanjie retorts sarcastically, “I don’t think she’ll have a great time in a dance party when she can’t actually, y’know, dance,” Vanjie adds and Yvie actually ponders about it for a moment.

Out of all the people in the room, there was no one who knew Brooke more than Yvie. Vanjie comes to a close second but Yvie was literally there since Brooke was born. With that, Vanjie was undeniably wrong. Brooke, despite disabled, was determined to teach herself any kind of dance she can learn. With enough perseverance and hard work, she actually mastered different kinds of techniques and skills thanks to the help one of their teachers in highschool, Miss Sahara Davenport. But then there was some point that Brooke stopped seeing her. If Yvie recalls correctly, there were rumors that Miss Davenport died of some illness; hence why Brooke had no more classes for dance. However, Brooke came through it all and continued her legacy by independently teaching herself how to dance. After a few books, self-teaching, and help from their neighbour named Alyssa who would teach Brooke occasionally, Brooke became the best dancer Yvie’s ever witnessed.

Vanjie most likely didn’t know of this all because Brooke was a secluded and reluctant person. Like Yvie, she had her own insecurities, but Brooke had a different approach of handling it. While Yvie liked address her issues more out loud, Brooke was more quiet, keeping all her problems to herself. Yvie only managed to know about Brooke’s dancing when Brooke accidentally fell out of her wheelchair in her room and couldn’t get back up. Yvie had to help her get back on while Brooke panickedly explained the situation truthfully. Brooke could never lie under stress.

“Brooke can dance,” Yvie mentions and everyone turns to her, eyeing her weirdly. “What? Brooke knows how to dance. Not on her feet but on her wheelchair, of course.” Yvie adds, still keeping a serious tone. She needed to make sure the others didn’t think whatever she said was some sort of joke.

“Bitch, how?” Vanjie asks, still in a state of uncertainty.

“She got private lessons from Miss Davenport, remember her?”

“Miss Davenport cannot dance,” Vanjie replies and it took a second for Yvie to understand who she was referring to.

“That’s Miss A’keria, you fuck. And she can dance… only if it involved her ass shaking, that is,” Yvie says, “But I’m referring to Miss Sahara. She taught phys-ed and dance. She tutored Brooke some time ago,” Yvie adds and the group all seemed intrigued by this newfound information. Scarlet most definitely was pleased by hearing this, evident by how wide her grin was when she heard that Brooke could dance.

“Perfect! That’s perfect,” Scarlet says, “A dance party would be perfect for Brooke, she will absolutely enjoy it. I mean, you need to ask her out first, of course, but how bad can that be?” Scarlet says and Vanjie’s eyebrows were knitted in terror.

“I mean…” Vanjie starts, still very nervous as she fiddles with her hair, “How did you and Ra’jah get together?” Vanjie asks, prompting Scarlet and Ra’jah to stare each other before smirking. But before any of them could reply, Shuga jumps in.

“It was bad,” Shuga mentions and receives a snarl of protest from Scarlet, “Scarlet would always say they were just upfront about their feelings, but, the truth is there was a lot of denial involved,” Shuga says and the couple immediately looks alarmed.

“It always runs with lesbianism.” Yvie comments.

“Always, girl,” Shuga replies, “It finally ended when Ra’jah threw a bouquet of roses at Scarlet’s window and shouted her confession.” Shuga adds and Vanjie and Yvie laugh at its ridiculousness. Scarlet solely looks unimpressed, seeming like she wants to repress that memory.

“So what, do I just throw some flowers at Brooke and hope for the best?”

“Your choice girl. I did it and my girl is still here,” Ra’jah says. Scarlet, looking enamored, smiles at her and blows her a kiss. After, she turns back to Vanjie to relay her the plan again.

“Again, I’ll hold a party. I’ll announce it to everyone until Brooke hears of it. Then, you go up to her, ask her out, whether it’d be through confessing truthfully or throwing flowers, then invite her to the dance party. I assure you that everything will be wonderful after that.” Scarlet says and Vanjie nods slowly, still hesitant that she’s agreeing to Scarlet’s plan. To Yvie, it wasn’t actually a particularly bad plan. In fact, she thought it was simple yet doable, but the problem is that lesbians could never, ever function during confessions.

“Maybe we can do that tomorrow to get things done? The quicker, the better, since you two have been pining for more than a decade,” Scarlet suggests and everyone besides Vanjie hum in agreement. Yvie nudges Vanjie but her reluctance doesn’t really decrease from it.

“If you don’t wanna do it, I won’t force you, of course,” Scarlet says and this is probably the most caring Scarlet has ever been. Vanjie looks up, inhales sharply, then raises a hand.

“No—no, I’m gonna fucking do it,” Vanjie says with a determined tone, causing everyone to cheer for her loudly, “Tomorrow, I’ll walk up to her at lunch and I’m not gonna pussy out.”

“I’ll be there so if you do mess up, I’m just gonna tell Brooke that you have a crush on her,” Yvie says and Vanjie scrunches up her nose.

“No! No, that wouldn’t be romantic. I want it to be like, really romantic. Or cute. I don’t want you yelling at us for it to happen,”

“Are you saying I’m not a romantic or cute person? I am offended,” Yvie says and places a dramatic hand on her chest.

“Oh fuck off, Oddly,” Vanjie replies, “I’ll do it perfectly, don’t worry about it,” Vanjie says confidently yet Yvie still doesn’t have faith on that. In some way or another, she will definitely fuck it up, Yvie bets on it.

“It’s settled then!” Scarlet speaks up again, clasping her hands together joyfully, “I’ll reserve Ozdust right now before anyone else does. No backing out now, Vanj,” Scarlet says as she hops off her bed gracefully, smoothing out her skirt. Since it is expected for Ra’jah to always accompany Scarlet, she also hops off as she winks suggestively at Vanjie.

“Good luck, Vanj, I’ll be seeing you,” Ra’jah says as Scarlet grabs her hand before they exit. Scarlet waves a simple goodbye before heading off to the Ozdust Ballroom, leaving Shuga, Yvie, and Vanjie alone in the suite. Shuga takes this opportunity to lay on Scarlet’s bed; she looks like she’s been wanting to do that since they entered the room. Yvie chuckles at her, relating to her exhaustion.

“God, where am I gonna get a girlfriend like that. Or a boyfriend, I’m cool with any, if anyone wants to hook me up with someone,” Shuga states and Yvie relates to that as well. For close to two decades, Yvie has barely had any friends, let alone someone who’s romantically inclined to her. There were definitely plenty of women who sets Yvie’s gay heart off, but with the face she has, Yvie doubts she’d ever end up with anyone.

“Same,” Yvie says, “If any of you know someone who’s attracted to people with no pupils, let me know. So far, everyone’s just been screaming every time they see my face,” Yvie jokes and it brings a laugh out of Shuga and Vanjie. “You know, you’re really lucky, Vanj. Brooke’s been telling me how much she likes you since… uhm… it’s been a very long time, I mean.”

Vanjie’s eyes widen, “Really?” she says, flustering a bit.

“Yep, I found out around eighth grade when Brooke accidentally said that you were hot in front of me. She immediately reddened and tried to shut me out after I started asking lots of questions,” Yvie says with a fond smile and Vanjie looked very intrigued after hearing that.

“Wow, that’s a very… long time.” Vanjie says.

Shuga coughs, “Lesbians,” she says and Vanjie grunts, “Okay Vanj but I doubt you’d do it perfectly tomorrow. Just let Yvie be there just in case. She’s like, your Plan B, or something,”

“Fine, but I promise you that I won’t fuck it up.” Vanjie says, “Everything’ll be fine.”

Brooke Lynn Hytes was a very lonely person. She was most likely the only one in the campus who had no roommate and even if she knew it wasn’t because people didn’t like her, she still felt terrible that she was alone. The closest she has to a roommate are the professors who stay overnight during busy days that stay in her building because it’s where all the vacant rooms were. Madame Visage stays here often because of the stress she receives as the headmistress. Rumors also say she’s the Wizard’s assistant but Brooke wouldn’t believe anything unless she hears it from the headmistress herself.

In the morning, she always wakes up early. Brooke never has a reason to sleep late in the evening. There were no friends for her to party with nor did she have difficulties in her studies— she wasn’t going to be Munchkinland’s next professor for no reason. Well, the reason is mostly that her father was biased but she never liked that reason. The other reason is that she was immensely intelligent, never getting any grade below A.

It takes Brooke around an hour to get ready for the day. Her tangled legs are never a thing to be proud of. Her legs were almost like jelly as they were intertwined with each other like vines. She could move, but it’d never get anywhere because they’re literally like they were tied. It was hard at first to prepare by herself but after she tried to do everything independently, she eventually got used to it. There was a lot of chairs for everything to work but other than that, there was no other complication.

After she’d get prepared, she always loved to write to herself just to give herself a self-checkup everyday. Her dad would always ask her to do it and now, she can’t go a day without writing in her diary. Not everything was fun, though, as most of her entries were always about how her legs prevented her from doing this and that and how lonely she felt.

The loneliness wasn’t some kind of joke. She and Yvie shared that aspect with one another; it was just Yvie who really didn’t mind it. Even if Brooke was extremely introverted, she really longed for a consistent friend who she can get along with and depend on. Growing up, she and her sister would always be referred to as a freak show by many, hency why no one would try to approach her. For Brooke, people at least were kind when they interacted, but every interaction was nothing more than a question about academics.

The three only other friends she had besides her sister were her obsessive father, her overly kind dance teacher, and this reckless, dumb bitch named Vanessa. Her father was just labelled as a friend because he just loved to spoil her non-stop and would converse to her like a normal person, unlike how he acts towards Yvie. Her dance teacher was the first to see her true potential in dancing and she couldn’t thank her enough for giving her some kind of passion when she thought she was nothing.

Then there’s Vanjie, someone who she thought would never be friends with her. She first knew Vanjie as Yvie’s only friend during kindergarten and Vanjie, the reckless child she is, always loved using Yvie to mess with the other kids, just because they thought it was something hilarious. Yvie, despite being older, started the same age as Brooke because at first, their father refused to treat Yvie like a normal person. If it weren’t for their nanny, Yvie wouldn’t be in the position she was today. Despite studying late, Yvie adapted well, and was actually really happy she had her sister in the same batch she was.

But back to Vanjie— Vanjie used to be someone she just knew because Yvie would always bring her along on the way home. Her father refused to talk to her because of obvious reasons so Brooke was always on the side, watching them. It was only when her father was sick that she got to know Vanjie. The three of them still walked home together but now, Brooke had less restrictions, hence why she began to chatter with the other two. She found out that they were more fun than what she expected, and instead of heading home, they messed around. Even if their father was much disappointed at them, that was the best memory Brooke had of her childhood.

Growing up, Vanjie barely had any shared classes with her, but Vanjie and Brooke always try their best to hangout whenever they were free. She didn’t know how their friendship has lasted that long but she was happy that she had Vanjie. And Brooke knew Yvie loved Vanjie as well even if she’d never admit it.

Now in Shiz, Brooke felt alone more than ever. A month in, she felt awfully homesick. She knew she should be grateful that she’s studying in the most privileged university in all of Oz but she admits she actually misses her father just a bit. Of course she loathed her hatefulness towards Yvie but she misses the compliments and the friendly small talks they shared. All she had now was her sister who sometimes loved to snap back at anyone and gain attention and Vanjie who only occasionally hangs out with her.

That stupid Scarlet Envy loved to hog them away from her, though. The reason why she doesn’t see Vanjie daily is because she was in the same clique Scarlet was in. Brooke thought she actually didn’t fit in with Scarlet and her friends but Vanjie keeps convincing her that Scarlet acts better than what she showcases publicly. They apparently became close when Vanjie moved to the Gillikin County over the summer because of Vanjie’s mom getting a job at Shiz. Vanjie met Ra’jah as her roommate in advance and they kicked it off well, causing Vanjie to be invited into Scarlet’s group.

Scarlet also hogs Yvie away, believe it or not. Yvie and Scarlet love to appear like they loathe each other but Brooke can tell that they really enjoyed each other’s company despite the back and forth insults. Scarlet literally pulled Yvie with her out of class willingly— that’s definitely a sign of development in their friendship.

And with Yvie and Vanjie pulled away from time to time, all she had was… was writing letters to her father and Madame Visage. Brooke should be used to the isolation but she wasn’t— it still hurt from time to time.

At least today, she had Yvie. Yesterday, Vanjie and Yvie literally were grabbed by Scarlet and she was alone on the way to her room in a building that no other student occupied. Brooke was using her time with Yvie wisely because who knows when she will inevitably be pulled away from her again.

Today, their university was hustling and bustling even more than before. Brooke was unbeknownst to why at first until she heard the gossip of what was going on when she wheeled herself to her first class. It was something that had to do with Scarlet, of course, and it has something to do with a dance party. This intrigued Brooke for mainly two reasons: firstly, she and many others were aware of Scarlet’s dancing skills or lack thereof, and secondly, Brooke loved to dance.

The party was in two days and will be held at Ozdust at 7PM. It was actually at a reasonable day and time and despite of her spite towards Scarlet, she was actually considering to drop by. Maybe she might tag along Yvie just because she didn’t want to be that loner in a party. Both she and Yvie loved to dance, the only difference is their style of dancing. Brooke was graceful and her dancing would invoke sereneness and calmness while Yvie’s dancing was more for clubs and raves, always so upbeat and high energy. Both barely showed their skills, though; atoo shy to present themselves in front of other people because of obvious reasons.

So maybe she won’t actually drop by, huh.

“I just realized how many people would actually attend this because of Scarlet, ugh,” Brooke complains to Yvie during lunch as she lazily feeds herself a spoonful of veggies. “Just thinking about it makes me feel claustrophobic.” she adds. She also received a flyer on the way to lunch— apparently some of Scarlet’s followers began promoting the party on her own because of course her followers would love to scout for people they can convert to the Scarlet Envy religion.

“I heard about them talking about last night.” Yvie mentions, her elbow placed on the table as she leaned her cheek against her palm. She didn’t seem to enjoy her meal today, “Scarlet is the worst dancer I’ve seen. She flaps her arms and she calls it ‘professional dancing’, it’s ridiculous.” Yvie says as she feeds herself a piece of her meal. She chews slowly, looking like she wants to spit it out.

“Girl, we know,” Brooke says, “We always know. She’s delusional, I won’t be surprised if she has dementia,” Brooke adds and Yvie hums.

As they continue eating, Brooke kept observing Scarlet’s table. She really couldn’t help herself because her table was literally in front of theirs. There was a safe distance between both, at least, so her followers wouldn’t accidentally bump their table. As per usual, Scarlet’s crowd was as wild, obnoxious, and humongous as ever with Scarlet sitting elegantly on the table as if she were some queen. Scarlet’s friends all seem out of it, just like always, playing with their food as they looked like they want to behead all of Scarlet’s fans.

Eventually, her eyes began trailing off of Scarlet and to Vanjie, who was sitting in the same spot every time she was with Scarlet at lunch. She sat backwards on the chair as she poked at her food, unimpressed by the rowdiness of the crowd. It was weird to see Vanjie so quiet especially when she was known for never shutting up in highschool. Turns out detention isn’t what she needs, it was fanbases who couldn’t go one second without complimenting the same things to someone who they consider as their god.

Every time Vanjie was out of it, Brooke would always hope she would look her way so they can at least exchange glances. If she wasn’t going to hangout with Brooke, a glance and a bright smile is all she needed to be satisfied. It always happened every lunch time when Vanjie was away so it wasn’t a surprise when Vanjie finally locked eyes with her. Vanjie smiles here naturally beautiful yet adorable grin as she waves a tiny hello at Brooke. Brooke also waves, like the usual thing she does in reply.

Weirdly, Vanjie actually stands up. Vanjie would never excuse herself from Scarlet’s group because she actually fears the wrath of Scarlet’s fandom when they become judgmental towards her. So, with her looking like she wants to step out, Brooke became slightly proud but still a bit worried. She gives Vanjie a concerned stare as a sign for her to sit back down again but Vanjie seems persistent in wanting to get to Brooke’s table.

But alas, the fans spotted it before she could escape. “Hey, Vanjie, you’re seeing those freaks again? What’s going on with you?” One yells and Vanjie quickly gets startles as she was pushed back down on her chair. It wasn’t forceful but still, it makes both Yvie and Brooke enraged. Yvie almost grabs her spoon to toss again but Brooke stops her before anything gets more violent.

“You’re lucky to be staying with Scarlet so why don’t you appreciate it? Aren’t you grateful that you’re with her and not… with them?” A girl states as she snorts while gesturing towards Yvie and Brooke. Again, Brooke and Yvie tense up as they give them icy stares. Yvie starts tapping at the table out of habit as she restrains herself from using her powers.

“Yea! Be more appreciative, Vanjie! Aren’t I right, Scarlet?” a guy says as Scarlet slowly becomes panicky. Yvie glares at Scarlet, giving her a sign to not fuck up her answer with a fake reply that might damage her friends’ reputations.

“Alright, settle down, Vanjie probably didn’t mean that,” Scarlet says, not wanting to work for both the side of her fanbase and the side of her friends, “I don’t want anyone to be negative especially when I want everyone to have consistent positive energy until the party comes, you got that?” Scarlet says. Brooke sighs a breath of relief as the crowd began agreeing, leaving both the sisters and Vanjie alone.

“The fuck is wrong with Scarlet’s fans— how—how does she deal with this?” Brooke says, still eyeing the crowd with irritation. “They’re unbelievably dense.”

“Yea, sometimes I feel like Scarlet’s being more manipulated by them than the crowd being manipulated by her. It’s just a new thing I noticed,”

Brooke cocks an eyebrow at Yvie, surprised by how wary and cautious she was of Scarlet out of the blue, “Okay, when did you start caring for Scarlet?”

Yvie was silent as she looks down at her meal. Brooke was definitely suspicious of Yvie now, especially when she just insulted Scarlet a few minutes ago. “Hey, it was just an observation, don’t think of it as anything more than that.” Yvie mumbles as she shoves a few veggies into her mouth in disgust. Brooke gives her a light smile as she somewhat realizes what Yvie is slowly getting herself into. Then again, Yvie’s caring instincts aside, she takes a moment to process what Yvie mentions about Scarlet.

Once Brooke pondered about it thoroughly, she somewhat understood Yvie’s point. Scarlet was much different to her friends in person and sometimes, her dislike towards certain people seemed unnecessary. Brooke doesn’t want to assume but since Scarlet was sculpting another personality in front of her fanbase, Brooke thinks it’s slowly getting mixed into her true personality, and it’s quite worrisome to think that Scarlet was losing her true self because of it.

Then again, it wasn’t Brooke’s problem much since again, she still felt bitter towards Scarlet for stealing away her only friends in life. So, it’d be fine not to meddle with Scarlet’s issues much.

After some time suffering eating greens, the bell finally sounded across the campus. Yvie was glad she could just deny her lunch and grabbed her bag immediately to head off with Brooke to class. But before they could both leave, Vanjie actually makes her way to the duo. She seemed less startled than before but still alert for any fans that’ll spy on Vanjie to spread more gossip.

Thankfully, Yvie was there to keep guard of any disrespectful fans. She can easily scare them off with her dark aura and sharp teeth. If that fails, Yvie isn’t afraid to throw a pen at them while insulting them. Brooke was at least comfortable with Yvie doing that to them since Vanjie was being hurt by these fans.

“Sorry about a while ago, I shouldn’t have tried to escape the pits of hell like that,” Vanjie says as she ties her hair into a messy bun. Brooke licks her lips as stares at Vanjie longingly, thinking that the messy bun look on her was undeniably attractive.

“It’s alright, those fans are fucking nuts,” Yvie says, “I’m like, this close to murdering all of them,” Yvie adds as she raises her left hand and puts her thumb and index finger close together but not too close to look like they were touching. Vanjie sighs in agreement, looking incredibly annoyed.

“Same, but actually, I’d fucking murder them already if I can get away with it.” Vanjie says exasperatedly and the sisters hum in agreement. “But they do make Scarlet happy… or I think they do, I dunno.”

“Debatable but okay,” Yvie says, followed by a minute of odd silence. As they walk towards their classes, Brooke notices how Yvie and Vanjie walked in a slower pace as they seemed to know something Brooke didn’t know. They kept exchanging glances as if they were trying to send secret messages to one another. Brooke eyes them warily as she wheels more slowly, hoping she can get on whatever they’ve been hiding.

“Uh, Brooke, I have something to say,” Vanjie says slowly yet awkwardly as Brooke turns to her with raised eyebrows. It was out of character for Vanjie to start any conversation like that and it causes Brooke’s heart to race and palms to sweat. She also can’t tell if it was anything good or bad but judging by Vanjie’s nervous expression, Brooke expects the worst to come. This was it, Vanjie was going to end their nearly twenty-year friendship, Brooke can feel it.

“Yes?” Brooke manages to say this with no stuttering but inside, panic and anxiety began spreading throughout her body. Vanjie seems just as nervous as she is as she constantly looks away as she nibbles her bottom lip. Yvie, on the other hand, looked unimpressed as she glared at Vanjie threateningly.

“I—uhm,” Vanjie continues but the words seem trapped in her throat, not wanting to escape her lips. It irritates Brooke a bit but she was patient, not wanting to rush Vanjie to confess whatever she has in her head. “I—I’m gonna head to class,” Vanjie manages to say and Brooke’s eyebrows furrow, confused to why Vanjie suddenly avoided what she wanted to discuss.

“Huh, what—“ Yvie suddenly jumps in, probably as bewildered as Brooke was. “Vanjie, what in the fuck—“ she says but couldn’t finish as she began being pulled away by Vanjie, both of the two abruptly leaving Brooke behind as they head to their own class. Brooke stops in her tracks as she grips her wheelchair’s wheels tightly, slightly saddened by Vanjie bailing on her.

“Whatever,” Brooke says bitterly as she headed for her class. It was mathematics so this can undoubtedly distract her from whatever just happened right now. She can just demand answers from Yvie later— everything was going to be fine.

“Brooke! Brooke, hey, uhm, I wanna walk with ya to your room,” Immediately after Brooke wheels out of her class, Vanjie was already waiting outside. Yvie was behind her, looking very disgruntled at Vanjie. Brooke exchanges looks with Yvie before she stares at Vanjie weirdly. She chews the inside of her lip as she tries to process what was going on with Vanjie today.

“Alright, but it’ll be a long walk,” Brooke says as she turns her wheelchair away from them and to the direction of her building. Vanjie looks delighted as she walks beside Brooke, looking equally as nervous as she was joyous. Yvie was trailing behind them and even if Brooke wasn’t looking at her, she knew that Yvie was staring at them carefully like a concerned parent.

“What did you want to say a while ago?” Brooke asks, hoping Vanjie would finally be truthful to her. Vanjie still looks hesitant as she shrugged, most likely trying to keep her composure steady,

“Uhm,” Vanjie says. One giveaway that Vanjie was still masking something was the constant stuttering. She also never stops midway through her sentences because Vanjie likes to ramble most of the time, never stopping when she talks. “You heard of Scarlet’s party? You going to it?” she asks, avoiding Brooke’s gaze.

Brooke goes with it, “No, I don’t think I am. I know you’re going, though, since I don’t think you can decline her invite to the party,” Brooke says and Vanjie shrugs, looking neutral, “At least you’re a great dancer, you’d definitely blend in well there, unlike me,” Brooke says with an awkward chuckle as she gestures to her legs.

“Hey, you can dance! Anyone can dance.” Vanjie says and Brooke smiles at her, flattered by her statement. “If this bitch behind ya can dance then you can too,” Vanjie says as she points her thumb at Yvie who was deadpanning until her name was mentioned.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Yvie says as Vanjie chuckles at her.

“I was just saying how lovely your dancing is,” Vanjie says.

“Actually, Yvie can go with you to the party so you wouldn’t be too lonely there,” Brooke suggests, “You two have the same kind of dancing style so I think you two would have a great time.”

“Y’know, I was actually gonna, uhm,” Vanjie stutters again and Brooke’s patience is thinning. She waits for a few seconds for Vanjie to continue but she still seems disoriented. What does she want to say?

“Vanj, we’re friends, right? You can tell me anything,” Brooke says in the nicest way possible, hoping it’ll calm Vanjie down enough for her to spill. Vanjie’s lip quivers as she fiddles with her fingers, looking like she’s at a loss on how she wants to confess whatever she has in mind.

“Look, Scarlet planned the party for you and Vanjie’s just trying to ask you out, Brooke,” Unexpectedly, Yvie started to speak behind them, looking just as impatient as Brooke was but more blunt. Yvie immediately receives a sharp glare from Vanjie. Vanjie looked like she wanted to scold Yvie but Yvie remains calm as ever, appearing to be very unbothered by the stares.

Brooke, on the other hand, was shocked to the core. Her eyes widened in a delighted surprise as she stopped wheeling herself to gaze at Vanjie. Before Vanjie decided to beat Yvie up, Vanjie caught Brooke’s curious gaze and flushed, reserving her anger towards Yvie for later.

“Is that what you were trying to tell me?” Brooke asks, her anxiety and irritation replaced with genuine curiosity and slight joy. Vanjie gulps and nods slowly as Yvie seemed relieved that Vanjie was started to act truthfully. Brooke’s lips slowly curve upwards as she takes one of Vanjie’s hands to ease her queasiness. “Hey, look at me,” Brooke says as she notice Vanjie still malfunctioning, “I’d love to go out with you.”

Vanjie’s eyes widen as she quickly perks up, a wide grin like Brooke’s forming on her face as well. “Really? For real real?” Vanjie says as her hands begin shaking. Brooke lets out a small chuckle as she gave a nod.

“Of course, you dumbass!” Brooke exclaims as Vanjie lets out a breath of relief, “I thought you were gonna break up our friendship but this—this is much better. Oz, you should’ve said this earlier! I was panicking the entire time during maths because I thought you hated me.”

“What? I don’t hate you, it’d be weird if I suddenly told you that I hated you after, I don’t fucking know, sixteen years of our friendship.” Vanjie laughs, clearly overly excited and relieved that they finally have it all settled, “So you will go to the dance with me?”

“Of course I fucking will now that you asked!”

“And you’d, uh, I dunno— are we— do you wanna be—”

“Yes, a hundred percent, I’d love to,” Brooke says sincerely. “Never in my wildest dreams did I thought this would actually happen, my Oz— this is probably the best day I’ve had in my life,” Brooke rambles as her heart beats quickly, causing her to act all hyper.

“You’re welcome, lesbians,” Yvie speaks and the two of them jump, forgetting that Yvie was still watching from behind, “You also have to thank Scarlet, by the way,” Yvie says but Brooke has no clue on what she meant behind it.

“I guess her plan actually worked,” Vanjie murmurs then notices the confused expression brooke had, “Oh! I forgot to mention that uhm, she was the one who implemented the party just so I can have the perfect ‘first date’. I didn’t actually believe her when she said her plan was foolproof but at the end, it surprisingly worked,” Vanjie states and it really gives Brooke another perspective on Scarlet.

Maybe Scarlet was deep down really kind-hearted despite her occasional impoliteness. “Huh, wow,” Brooke says, still taking in her realization. “She is actually not as bad as she seems… I, wow— I’m actually a bit speechless by that. I guess I have to thank her for all of this…”

“I’ll make sure to tell her for you,” Yvie says, “Anyways, I’ll be heading off, you lesbians— I heard no other person lives in Brooke’s building so you can just as loud as you want,” Yvie says with a knowing smirk before she turns away nonchalantly. Vanjie snorts at her while Brooke merely flushed just thinking about it.

“Hey you’re thinking about it! I can’t believe you’re thinking about it!” Vanjie calls Brooke out and Brooke slaps her elbow to retort.

Brooke gives her a suggestive wink before she wheels off with Vanjie, flustered and confused, chasing after her.

Yvie sighs at them. She wasn’t gloomy for them in any way but there was light feelings of jealousy she felt within her. Adjusting her bag, she continues walking to her shared suite, wanting to relax herself for the day. The thought of the dance and her sister’s happiness keeps flooding her head and Yvie just wants to shut it all out. The better she accepts that no one will love her, the more this jealousy will pass.

Then again, her mind seems to be fixated at Scarlet as well. Scarlet organized this to happen and was that one push Vanjie needed to finally confess. Not only that but this— this made her sister happy. Scarlet made her sister happy. This was always a big deal for Yvie. Anyone who makes her sister happy is someone Yvie needs to respect wholeheartedly because there are rarely anyone who does so.

Yvie suddenly feels compelled to return Scarlet a favor. Maybe she should… gift her with something.

“Oh, Miss Yvie, where are you headed? You seem to be the only one here,” Out of nowhere, Madame Visage speaks. She seems to have finished her last class and was off to return to her office. Yvie purses her lips as she gets an idea on what she would love to give to Scarlet.

“Madame Visage, I actually have a request…”

“Oh, hey Yves,” Shuga says as Yvie enters the suite. Even if the party was still in two days, Scarlet was already preparing for her outfit to wear. The room was messier than usual as Scarlet has littered it with different kinds of catsuits and dresses that had to be unbelievably gorgeous yet expensive. Shuga was visiting as well, most likely helping Scarlet out since she knew how indecisive she was.

“Heyo, I love how you’re taking out the trash today,” Yvie remarks as she hops over the messily scattered heels on the floor to get to her bed. Scarlet gives Yvie an aggravated glare as she placed one of her dresses on a hanger.

“Actually, I wasn’t sure I was taking out the trash until you walked in,” Scarlet retorts and Yvie, genuinely astounded, chuckles at her. Their back and forth remarks will never be boring for Yvie. “How’s Vanjie and Brooke?”

“A success,” Yvie replies, and both Scarlet and Shuga rejoice in unison, both immensely relieved that everything went well. “But we had to go for Plan B since Vanjie pussied out too much.”

“That was expected, though,” Shuga jokes as she begins folding some of Scarlet’s outfits as if she were her nanny. “So they’re both going to the party?”

“Uhuh, so everything’s gonna be great,”

“Are you going to the party?” Shuga asks, and Yvie shrugs as she places her bag down next to her bed. There was no real reason for Yvie to attend since she didn’t have anyone to accompany her. Every one of Scarlet’s friends would undoubtedly stick with her while Brooke and Vanjie have their own little thing. Yvie would… be alone. Like always.

“I feel like you should go— everyone else is,” Scarlet says and it was a surprise that she insisted Yvie to go. Yvie purses her lips as she actually starts to consider the invitation. Why does she seem compelled to go when Scarlet is the one who requests for her presence? When did she ever begin listening Scarlet Envy?

“Also—“ Scarlet speaks and Shuga apprehensively stares at Scarlet. “Would you want to have this hat I found? It was hiding in the back of my closet and I don’t think it’d suit me if I’d wear it.” Scarlet begins digging into this gigantic box that was sitting next to her closet. The box was filled with funky-looking hats, all different in designs. In the bottom of the box, Scarlet finds what she needs: a pointy, black hat. It was unquestionably oldschool, something Yvie would find her grandmother to wear.

“Here, this is all yours,” Scarlet says, “I think you should wear it to the party,” she adds with most likely a very fake smile but it makes Yvie’s emotions flutter inside her. She knew Scarlet was joking but to Yvie, the hat wasn’t as terrible as she thought it’d be. Firstly, it was in a dark color, so of course it would please Yvie. Yvie wears enough weird outfits to accept this odd hat as something she’d wear. Truly, Yvie appreciates the gift, no matter how much Scarlet meant for it to be a harmless joke.

“Thanks, Scar,” Yvie says and both Scarlet and Shuga were surprised by her sincere thankfulness for the hat and how she used a nickname for Scarlet. Scarlet blinks a couple of times while she furrowed her eyebrows, perplexed by how Yvie was reacting to the hat.

“I—are you actually gonna wear that horrendous hat?” Scarlet says, “You will literally look like a garden gnome, Yvie, I recommend you don’t do it.”

“Oh wow, Miss Scarlet Envy actually cares about me? How sweet,” Yvie says in reply and Scarlet huffs out a breath, “No, really, I actually like it. Fits with my aesthetic,” Yvie says as she places it on top of her head. It wasn’t sitting directly on top but actually, she decides to put it on the left side of her head and keep it slanted. Looking at the mirror near their window, she adjusts it to look the way Yvie wanted it to look.

“Oh? Okay then, weirdo.” Scarlet says, “People are going to judge you for the hat, though, so try your best not to wear it since you already get bullied enough.” Scarlet warns her. Yvie thinks it’s cute whenever she witnesses Scarlet be all careful and motherly towards Yvie. It was rare but it makes Yvie feel great, for some reason.

“It’s been a month, I’m used to it.”

“Are you actually going to the party, honey?” Shuga asks and Yvie pauses. This week has been a pleasant week for Yvie regarding academics. Her professors were kind enough to give most of the students a break this week, their homework being given to a minimum. So, there was no academics getting in the way of the party. And albeit all the expected, judgmental looks Yvie will receive during the party, Yvie does want to go party at least once in her college life. Yvie was a wild bitch, and maybe, she can try having fun for once in this dance party of Scarlet’s.

Yvie, with a confident smirk, replies, “Hell yea.”

It was 6:40 and Yvie still remained stood in front of her mirror, checking how she looks for the hundredth time. She doesn’t even know why she was still fixing how she looks when she clearly didn’t want to dress to impress. She dresses to depress. Her hair looked just how it did like always, its buns still staying the same way it was styled this morning. Her dress was somewhat similar to the dresses she wore daily, only this time, it was slightly more revealing and lacy. She kept her word and wore the freaky hat Scarlet gave to her because believe it or not, her adoration for the hat still hasn’t faded. It fit well with her outfit anyways so there was no big issue there.

Tonight, she was supposed to have fun, but here she is, checking to see if she was passable enough for the party. Something bothered her and she didn’t know why. For the past days, she didn’t know why any interaction with Scarlet tickles her insides. She feels like mush whenever they exchange jokes and she flusters harshly whenever Scarlet would genuinely compliment or converse with her. And now, she wishes that she looked just as appealing as Scarlet was. She doesn’t know why she suddenly craves for Scarlet’s praise and appreciation but she does. And now, her bothering thoughts wouldn’t stop pestering and now she’s conflicted on her appearance.

She looks at her pocket watch again– 6:44. The party most likely has started already since many arrived early. Scarlet already left with her clique and Vanjie and Brooke left as well just so they can spend more time with each other. Yvie said she would follow fifteen minutes ago and now, she’s still in the same place she was pacing around earlier.

Yvie sighed as she grabbed her bag– she truly was a pathetic piece of shit, huh.

Yvie decides to leave after enough convincing from herself. Even if her horrible was horrible, Scarlet would be very much displeased if she came in late, and Yvie definitely didn’t want to ruin her excited mood.

Because of their early arrival, both Brooke and Vanjie got a spot of their own near the corners of the room to stay away from any other person as much as possible. Brooke looked absolutely stunning, preparing effortfully for tonight. She wore an emerald green, flowy dress that hugged her body really well. Thanks to Vanjie, she had less struggles putting the dress on and styling her hair for tonight. Vanjie, on the other hand, wore something complimentary– a red dress that had only one sleeve while the exposed arm and shoulder was slathered with gold glitters. And because Brooke loved it, she made Vanjie tie her hair into a messy bun again.

And so far, her night has been amazing. Only thirty minutes has passed since their arrival and they’ve been grooving to the music like there was no tomorrow. Brooke has twirled so much in her wheelchair that she started becoming slightly light headed. If they weren’t spinning around, they would use their arms to do simple dance moves. Even if the amount of dance moves Brooke can execute is limited, she was having a blast with Vanjie.

“How was Scarlet able to find this much bands in like, two days? There’s a whole fucking set of them just waiting to perform.” Brooke says, or most accurately, shouts, since the music was blasting across the ballroom. Vanjie shrugs as she bounces to the loud music, enjoying how incredibly vigorous the band was.

“I don’t know but I fucking love it. These bitches are talented as fuck, it’s insane,” Vanjie says as she cheers on the singers on the stage. Brooke also chimed in, cheering for them happily just like everyone else is. The singers seem to respond greatly to it, quickly amping up their song to its maximum. Both Brooke and Vanjie rock to the music, their energy never wavering, prompting them to continuously pump out dance moves at every second.

“I’m having the time of my fucking life!” Brooke shouts at Vanjie, “God, I’d love to do this monthly if Scarlet is willing to do so.”

“She’s rich as fuck, she can do whatever she wants, if I’m being honest,” Vanjie replies, “I’ll tell her that, I’m sure she’ll keep the recommendation in mind,” Vanjie says with a wink and Brooke laughs at her.

Then, Brooke proceeds to take Vanjie’s hands to twirl her around on the beat of the music. Vanjie was disoriented when she spun but it Brooke was thoroughly entertained by her. Vanjie then returns the favor and twirls Brooke around. She spins with ease since she’s done this multiple times before with her wheelchair. They both share another laugh until their laughter dies out.

“Oz, you are so beautiful,” Vanjie says out of the blue and Brooke blushes. At least under the colored lighting, it wasn’t clearly visible. “I’ve been waiting for this since– since fucking seventh grade.”

“I was waiting since sixth grade, how about that?” Brooke says, “We were just so oblivious to each other back then, it makes me cringe just thinking about it.”

“Can I kiss you?”

Brooke almost jumped out of her wheelchair, “Wh–wait what?”

“Ugh, Brooke, can I fucking kiss you?” Vanjie asks, clearly flustered.

Brooke’s heart beats quickly that she feels like it could jump out the next time she exhales. She fiddles with her wheelchair’s handles for a moment before nodding excessively. Vanjie then kneels as if she were to propose to Brooke and leans forward. They stare at each other longingly before Vanjie leans in and places her soft lips on Brooke’s. The kiss wasn’t too deep nor long– it was just a simple, sweet peck. Despite it being a short kiss, it made Brooke’s heart race as if she ran a mile.

Once Vanjie let go, there was a permanent smile planted on Brooke’s face. Vanjie had the same expression as well as she giddily bounced out of excitement. “That… I love that. I feel like we should do that more often,” Brooke says, sounding like a foolish idiot.

“I think we should.” Vanjie says, “D’ya wanna–?”

“Yes, go ahead,” Brooke replies and Vanjie kneels down again to give her another affectionate kiss.

Meanwhile, at the other side of the ballroom, Ra’jah was tutoring Scarlet on how to dance. Thankfully, there was less of a crowd since everyone wanted to have their own fun with dancing, and Scarlet felt more free because of it. Then again, there were still many eyes on her, and it was very much pressuring especially when she realized that she can’t dance if her life depended on it. It was quite frankly embarrassing that she needed Ra’jah’s guidance since a lot of people were watching but Ra’jah always makes sure that Scarlet would be enjoying the party.

“Like this?” Scarlet asks as she flails her arms around while moving her hips to the rhythm. Ra’jah snorts at her for the millionth time tonight and Scarlet grumpily huffs at her. “You always keep laughing at me! Oz, I really must not be able to dance,”

“You know, it’s bad when Brooke, someone on a wheelchair, and Madame Visage, an old bitch, are both better at dancing than you are.” Ra’jah remarks and Scarlet slaps her forearm jokingly. Then, Scarlet pauses as she realizes that Madame Visage was present. How did she not notice her entering the ballroom? And what in the world was she doing here?

“Madame Visage?” Scarlet asks and Ra’jah gestures to the headmistress who was grooving near the center of the ballroom as if she were twenty years younger. Many have been cheering her on and honestly, it was a nice thing to see from the headmistress. Even if she were scarily serious at times, it was nice to know she also had this fun aspect in her.

Scarlet decides to cheer on for her as well. The headmistress then turns towards her direction and Scarlet decides to cheer even louder. Madame Visage smiles as if she was pleased and shimmies towards Scarlet’s direction.

“Scarlet, this party’s great! How did you even manage all of this in two days?” the headmistress says and Scarlet immediately feels flattered.

“I have my ways,” Scarlet replies with a prideful expression.

“It’s like magic, honestly,�� Madame Visage says, “And speaking of magic, I have something for you,” Madame Visage opens up her purse and brings out this elongated box from it. The box was simply red but it seemed to hold more importance to it. The headmistress hands the box for Scarlet to open and like a child opening presents, Scarlet lifts the lid.

Inside, there was a wand. Not some kind of pretentious toy wand you’d find in most toy shops; this was a real wand. Its design was simple: it merely looked like a brown stick. On the bottom, there was a ruby attached to it that was carved like a rose.

“I— wait wait wait, what’s going on?” Scarlet says as her hands begin to shake.

“I’ll be meeting you on Monday, next week.” Madame Visage says with a wink. Scarlet thinks about her statement for a second and when she finally understood, Scarlet gasps loudly and squeals. She couldn’t believe it— she was invited to attend Madame Visage’s sorcery class. She thought it would be impossible to get into her class after how much they butt heads but now, she actually got in. How did she even make it in?

“I don’t— I don’t recall myself auditioning or applying for the class besides my attempt on the first day so… why?”

“Just thank Miss Oddly for that,” Madame Visage says before walking away and dancing again. Scarlet, still in disbelief, looks down at the wand in awe again. Yvie… Yvie, despite their constant bickering, requested for Scarlet to join her class. Yvie, despite Scarlet’s numerous fans verbally bullying her, personally asked Madame Visage to give Scarlet such an expensive wand. Yvie, despite receiving such a terrible hat from Scarlet, personally asked Madame Visage for Scarlet to receive lessons that would make her a master at sorcery.

Scarlet was close to sobbing uncontrollably because of it. She did nothing to deserve Yvie Oddly yet Yvie’s out here giving Scarlet the best gift she could possibly receive.

Right when Scarlet was about to tell Ra’jah war just occured, the noise and the music of the room suddenly dies down. The silence was incredibly thick and everyone seemed to stare at something, or rather, someone, who entered the ballroom. As Scarlet looks up, there she sees Yvie Oddly making a grand entrance into the ballroom. As always, she seemed confident and her courage was never wavering.

But Yvie, truly, was a bit frightened as she entered the room. She didn’t expect everyone to notice her when she entered and the pregnant silence just made her more nervous. Yvie knew she would get attention but she didn’t think the whole room would grow silent just to judgmentally gaze at her.

Yvie tries her best not to run away from the party, though. She walks down the steps that led to the main dancefloor as everyone watched. She can tell a few people were already whispering gossip about her and she tries her best to ignore it while she made her way to the center. Once she got there, she began dancing on her own, twirling and moving her arms gracefully to… to an imaginary rhythm.

But after two sets of her horrible dancing, someone walks up to her from the crowd. It was Scarlet Envy, there in the flesh, with her red catsuit covered in fake roses. They stare at each other first before Scarlet began to follow Yvie’s moves, dancing it as horribly as Yvie was dancing them. Yvie started to smile as Scarlet began having fun with the moves, twirling closer and closer to Yvie as she does so.

“What’re you guys doing?” Madame Visage yells, “start the music already!” she exclaims as everyone suddenly cheers, opposite to what their attitude was a minute ago. Scarlet giggles joyfully as she still continued dancing with Yvie, even grabbing Yvie’s hand to twirl around with her. Yvie also begins to smile as well, her fear being replaced with an immense glee as they dance around like no one is watching.

Yvie doesn’t know exactly why Scarlet decided to save her ass now or why she suddenly became all carefree. But… it felt nice. Yvie felt like she was in absolute bliss. Without them being at each other’s throats, they both suddenly feel like they were in paradise, in heaven.

But in the midst of their dancing, Yvie does realize something. Whenever she was with Scarlet, her pessimism seems to ease up as her happiness seems to increase tenfold. There was a weird feeling in her stomach every time she looks at Scarlet. Whether she’d merely exchange a few words with her or she’d simply make eye contact with her, Yvie felt her mouth go dry as she sometimes stood speechless merely just observing the redheads.

Yvie realized that she was developing a crush towards Scarlet Envy.

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