#he was supposed to have the tiny ponytail...until i spend one hour on his hair and abandonned

[thinkinonsense]

old!logan and his obsession with the cute diner girl *mdni

a/n: this is my first attempt at writing something smutty so if it sucks im sorry lmao also if any writers have any tips please share! :)

logan has been around for long enough to know when a woman is attracted to him. there was a certain essence given off that was always a dead giveaway. usually it came from women close to the age he looked like and it tended to be brief moments of lust before all hope was lost. this was until he met you.

the pretty young girl working at the diner during her time off from college. everyday, he came in and ordered a black coffee. the coffee wasn't even that good but logan would spend two dollars every single day of his life if it came with the view of you bending over in that tiny uniform skirt.

logan would watch you for hours while he drank and skimmed the news paper alone in a booth. your hair was always up in either a ponytail or held together with a hair clip. he loved seeing your pretty handwriting as you scribbled on your notepad, taking orders. it was part of your job to be nice to everyone but you were especially nice to him. even your friends began to notice how you would linger by his table, constantly topping off his coffee mug and making small talk; sometimes giving him a slice of cherry pie on the house.

"don't you think he's kinda old for you?" one of your friends whispers to you behind the counter.

it's stung but you suppose she had a point. what would a man old enough to be your father want with a young wild girl like yourself?

"i-i guess so?" you stuttered, embarrassed at your previous attempt at flirting with him.

the rest of the night, you hoped he would leave before close so you could have some time alone with your feelings. summer was almost over and you would go back to the city soon. it was time to forget these silly fantasizes.

by ten, all the other waitresses went home except you, the older woman in the back who counted the drawer every night, and a few of the cooks. the only customer still there was logan. he flipped through one of the books he brought with him; still sipping away at that damn coffee.

"isn't it getting a little late for you, sweetheart?" he asked nonchalantly, not even looking up at you as you bent over to scrub the table next to his. the fifth table you've cleaned in the last hour and the second time you've cleaned that specific table. logan noticed but you didn't.

"need the hours." you mumble, frustrated by a stubborn stain. all logan could focus on was your scrunched nose and how your tight top pushed your boobs together just right for his viewing. "college is fucking expensive plus grants and scholarships only cover so much."

"hmm.." logan grunts. grants? scholarship? what a goody fucking two shoes, logan thought to himself. "if you bring me piece of pie, i think i can help you out."

you lean off the table and go get what's left in the glass container. it's probably a little hard so you definitely didn't plan on charging him for it. you sit the plate down in front of him and before you could turn around to walk away, logan reaches for your wrist softly.

"join me." he offers.

you knew you shouldn't but what was really the harm? at least your friends weren't here to make fun of you. the radio played quietly on an older station while you watched logan take a bite of the pie.

"why did your friends leave you here alone?" he asked, watching your face turn sour at the memory of them.

"don't wanna talk about it." your voice was small in the empty diner.

"why? think an old man like me can't relate to it?" logan chuckles. your thighs squeeze together without thinking. so much for not embarrassing yourself.

"no, no, not that." you shake your head and a strand of hair falls from your bun. "just sort of juvenile, you know?"

logan could tell that you were trying to come off more mature around him. you didn't want him to see you as some college kid.

"juvenile, how?" he eggs on, pushing down his glasses a bit.

god, those glasses got to you; and logan knew it.

"they don't understand how i feel about someone." you sigh.

"how do you feel about this person?" logan noticed you now avoiding his gaze, not liking it one bit. "eyes on me, princess."

the nickname caught you off guard like a dear in headlight; blinking and trembling up at logan. something logan enjoyed very much and could get used to.

"it's not important, just some stupid crush." you lie through your teeth. "they will forget about me in a month."

"why don't you think it'll work?" he cocks his head to the side a bit. "you're a pretty young thing, dollface. anyone of those college boys would be lucky to be wrapped around your little finger."

"i don't want college boys." you mumble, slightly annoyed by the memory of your friends.

logan felt himself getting hard at you admitting you had a taste for someone older. his eyes grew dark as he leaned in a little over the table.

"then what do you want?"

your moment to answer was interrupted by the older woman from the back, releasing you to go home for the evening. this was your chance to get up and leave before you admitted anything else that you would regret.

both of you stood up. logan threw down some cash while you went to collect your stuff behind the counter.

"i'll see you tomorrow, lo-"

"you didn't answer the question."

"i must go now if i want to catch the last train."

logan worried about you taking the train back to your apartment alone this late at night. usually you drive back but your car has been in the shop for almost three days now. he would watch you get to your car every night to make sure you were safe.

"i can drive you home." logan offers.

you shouldn't be this excited to be sitting in a strangers truck alone at night but here you were. the two of you sat in silence for a few minutes before logan brought up the conversation from the diner again. what did you even want?

"i want someone who understands me..." you begin rattling off the first things that come to mind when you notice logan's hand on your knee. you don't dare move.

"someone who is responsible..." with every word, his hand creeps higher and higher up your skirt. logan is more than pleased when he notices your legs spread on their own.

"someone who is m-mature..." logan's fingers inch towards the delicate skin of your inner thigh. there's no way this was happening, you thought as his index finger plays with the lace on the center of your pink underwear. he smirked at the wet spot front and center, waiting for him.

"treats me r-r-right." every word was a struggle to form as he stroked you softly. back and forth. back and forth.

logan nods along, not letting up down below. his index finger hooks onto your underwear, pulling it aside. you weren't even sure if you were breathing at this point; all this teasing was torture.

"p-p-please, logan..." you whine. "touch me."

his thumb rubs tiny circles on your button, adoring the way his name pours from your glossy lips. your hands fly to his wrists, needing more; nails digging into his skin in the most delicious way.

"where did this greediness come from?" logan groans, dipping his index finger inside of you. "what happened to that good girl from the diner?"

logan's finger barely fit in the tight space. your head fell back and a loud moan escaped you.

"oh, you weren't letting those college boys touch you at all, huh?" logan mocks, adding another finger and creating a steady pace.

"n-no!" you whine, lifting your hips a little.

"you were waiting for a real man to have his way with you, isn't that right, pretty girl?" he growls, pushing your hips back down.

you completely missed logan pulling off to the side of the road until now. his pace increases becoming rather rough now that he isn't driving. logan leaves deep purple bruises down your neck and across your chest, praising you to no end until you gush around his fingers, completely soaking his palm.

your heart pounded like you had just finished a marathon. logan allowed you to catch your breath as he carefully removed his fingers, bringing them up to his mouth to lick clean. he can feel your dazy eyes staring at him as he does so, making a real show of it.

"i've been wanting to do that for months now." he admits with a smirk.

"me too." you said, leaning forward and pulling him into a kiss; tasting yourself on his lips and tongue. logan wraps his hands around your hair, pulling you back a little when another moan falls from your lips.

"and we aren't even close to being done."

[machidielontheway]

“Ryou offered a hand to help Matt up, then half dragged him out the door.” 

From For All The World, ch.4, by @bosstoaster

[ID : a black lineart drawing of two characters from the tv show Voltron Legendary Defenders. A grinning Ryou Shirogane with white hair is running towards the left of the picture. With his prosthetic right arm behind him he is gripping and dragging in the air Matt Holt, whose limbs are in disarray. Matt looks both surprised and annoyed. The background is a light purple gradient and ground shadows of the characters. /End ID]

Ramblings under the cut !

Sooo this drawing is born of : 1) instant imagery reading the quote, which made me very merry. Is being half dragged different than pulled through the air ? yes, but it’s funny so who cares

2) i have so, so much ideas of things i want to draw, and neither the energy nor the drive. But i’d like them to exist, especially as the voltron fandom will not exist forever. Because one of my hang ups that saps my energy before i draw is “Things Take Too Long” i thought that maybe i could try make things not be long, if i made it easier. a. in terms of planning / roughs i definitively found the way it works best for me as of now, and it makes the whole process easier and more interesting (less grueling) b. chibis ! over simplified forms ! their arms should have been like, floppy rectangles. the idea was to let go of perfection and by this i mean accurate anatomy (yes i know to draw good chibis you actually need to be good at anatomy. jokes on you i don’t do either)

Ryou... DID begin as more simplified than i would do. his face took me a whopping 2mn. but you can see as i finished drawing him that already i wasn’t doing it really well (altho his legs have been lengthened only at the very end when Matt looked taller than him. rip)

I’m very into Matt right now and couldn’t not try to make him pretty. His hair took me an hour and many, many ctrl+Z. But the good thing is at this point i didn’t care anymore about whatever and just drew. Rough shape was done, Ryou (i’m so sorry bby i keep writing Shiro) was done quick so it gave me a bit of satisfaction and i actually liked drawing the whole Matt i think. ALSO LOOK I DREW ALL THE FEET AND 3/4 HANDS.

tl:dr : - is the anatomy fucked up ? YES ! - is the style inconsistent ? YES ! - did i manage to stop myself to beautify ryou after matt was done, in the name of finishing something ? YES !

did it : - remind me that actually if i go at it with a mindset of ‘it’s ok if it sucks anatomically’ i spend less time overthinking it for basically the same results ? YES ! - gave me more motivation for future drawing knowing i can put stuff out there without months of procrastinating ? YES ! - enable me to draw a piece in one (1) week, and be reasonably happy about it ? YEAH !!

no ryou does not have eyebrows shhhh

[barbarianprncess]

“Forget it, you’re a fucking asshole.” and “Nobody’s seen you in days.” that would be inchresting 👀👀

for mari my beloved, 

(aka @chironshorseass ) 

as you know this sort of got away from me. one second i was writing a drabble of angst, the next I'm on the 16th page with no end in sight. so this maybe isn’t what you were expecting but have 5k of post-botl/pre-tlo pining idiot besties who are in love :). 

(also this hasn’t been beta’d and i'm welcome to volunteers i just finished and got so excited i had to post.)

(dear one anon who asked for 'forget it you're a fucking asshole' too, if you're reading this, don't worry yours is coming too i promise)

(final s/o to @posallys for letting me scream about them)

24 hours

read on ao3

enjoy <3

                                                      ...

Percy is fucking exhasted.

He was supposed to be back at camp four days ago. The deal was he’d spend weekdays at camp to plan and train and weekends at home to relax. But, he kept putting it off, opting to keep the weight on his chest that’d been pushing him down since last summer bearable, and not crushing the way it always was at camp. So, when he gets through the barrier, aside from nodding hello to Beckendorph and Silena, he makes a beeline to his cabin. He manages to keep his eyes down until he’s standing at his porch steps- and that when he sees her.

Annabeth is pacing on his balcony. She’s wearing jean shorts and her camp shirt, but instead of her typical ponytail her hair is in two intricate braids that reach her breastbone. She’s muttering to herself and wringing her hands together and for a moment Percy forgets. He forgets the past year and all the arguing and the bitterness and he sees Annabeth is worried about something and he reaches out as if to hold her. To wrap his arms around her and tell her that everything is going to be alright.  

But then he remembers.

He retracts his hands.

He clears his throat and Annabeth startles. Her grey eyes are as intense as ever and he can almost see her defences come up. He hates that it's because of him. Annabeth is the first to break the silence.

“Hey.” Her voice is small but clear. Not yet vulnerable, but gives Percy the sense that it could be soon.

“What’re you doing here?” He isn’t sure he said it out loud until she ducks her head and flushes.

“Nobody’s seen you in days.” It’s not the accusation he expects. It's also not an answer to his question. Just an observation.

“I’m here now.” He says it like it’s an invitation. He then becomes incredibly aware that he's still looking up at her from the bottom of the steps, so he grabs his duffel, bounds up the stairs, and opens his cabin door. He hesitates and meets her eye with another silent question. She answers by stepping inside.

He drops his bag by his bed and turns on the light. The air is charged with unasked questions and unfinished conversations. He can’t stand it. He’s about to attempt small talk when she says something that nearly knocks down where he stands.

“I miss you.” She’s wringing her hands again and she won’t look him in the eye, but takes his silence as confusion.

“That’s what I came here to say, that I miss you.”

Percy isn’t sure what to say. Percy isn’t sure this conversation is really happening, she’s broken so many of the fragile rules they’d been following all year. He’s 98% sure this is a really vivid daydream to cope with…. well everything.

He decides that on the off chance this is real he should play it safe so, he states the obvious.

“I’m here. We’re here, together. We’re together and-” She cuts him off and begins to ramble.

“Strained and awkward and it's like there’s this chasm between us of all these things from last summer. From our kiss, to you dying, and then you not dying, and Rachel, and Luke, and Luke being Not-Luke, and it’s like we can’t have a conversation anymore and that sucks ‘cause..”

She pauses for the first time to look up at him and her eyes are shining.

“You’re kinda my best friend. And I miss you. Everything sucks and I'm tired of fighting. And I really miss you.”

Percy’s too shocked to say anything. It occurs to him that he should respond but he can’t find the words. All the unspoken rules they had in place and Annabeth had just steamrolled right through them. Percy realizes his mistake in staying silent as Annabeth flushes and turns to leave.

“Forget it, you’re a fucking asshole.” And oh no Annabeth had just swallowed her pride (which he knows better than anyone is no easy feat) to say everything he’d wanted to hear and he can’t let her walk away.

“I miss you too.” The words tumble out of him, clunky and a little awkward but earnest. Annabeth stops and faces him, eyes suspicious in the way that breaks his heart a little bit.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Really.”

Annabeth exhales and shoots him a tremulous smile he hasn’t seen in forever, and oh he’d forgotten what it did to his chest when she did. Before he does something stupid like tell her he thinks her smile is the best this he’s ever seen, he clears his throat.

“So…. this chasm you said, what do you propose we do about it?”

“24 hours. For 24 hours everything that I listed before is a non-issue. After that we can go back to…..whatever it is we’re doing now. One day, where we’re just two friends spending a day at camp together..”

“Best friends.” He corrects without thinking. She rolls her eyes, and he almost giggles because he’d missed her eyerolls too.

She holds out her hand to shake, all business-like and gods he missed her.

“Best friends. 24 hours.”

He takes her hand. Her shake is firm, her palms are warm, her eyes are bright, and she is beautiful.

“Where do we start?”

...

Apparently it starts with homework.

After he asked where they’d begin, Annabeth had flashed him a wicked grin, damn-near dragged him off the porch, and made a beeline to the Big House. Before last summer, Annabeth had been “tutoring” him. Once a week they’d head down to the Big House and spend hours combing through myths and legends, practicing Ancient Greek, and all things Demigod 101. It probably wasn’t ever that useful considering Percy barely remembered any of it, but Annabeth had always insisted. After last summer they’d non-verbally decided to take a break from it (eachother), and they’d never started back up.

Usually he’d halfheartedly complain that it was pointless and say some form of ‘I know enough to not die and that's good enough for me’ every five minutes, but today he nods dutifully along as Annabeth talks animatedly about Orpheus, and Theseus, and all the other -eus’s. He’ll ask a dumb question that they both know he knows the answer to, but she answers him anyway. He watches the wisps of hair that refused to be tied down, and counts the tiny sunspots across her nose and the way she wrinkles her eyebrow when she forgets a name.

It’s not terrible. It’s kinda the opposite. He’d forgotten that she made studying not terrible.

He’s so screwed.

...

The stables are almost empty when they get there.

After 2 hours of studying, (one hour of studying, one hour of laughing and talking and calling it studying) Annabeth declared it was his turn to pick the activity. Tired of sitting still Percy lands on tending to the pegasi. It was one of his favorite things about camp plus he got to teach Annabeth something for once. Annabeth was comfortable enough around them but she never spent anytime with them that she didn’t have to.

When they entered the barn, Blackjack gave him a look and he blushed remembering all the times he’d come to the stables with Beckendorph to vent about how much he missed Annabeth, (He didn’t even know horses could give looks but here we are) and silently told him it was a long story and to be cool. Annabeth had stopped next to one of the cleaning stations and was looking at him expectantly. He cleared his throat and they got to work. He showed her how to brush them and how to get tangles out of their manes, where to scritch them and where not to scratch them. He showed her how to check their feathers and make sure their wings were healthy and how to get them to be still enough to check.

Annabeth was excellent with them, gentle hands and kind eyes. Whenever she approached one she would look them in the eye and talk to them like the intelligent creatures they were. Each time she got started taking care of a new steed she’d gently reach for the muzzle and say in a soothing voice:

“Hi, my name is Annabeth and I'm going to groom you today. Don’t worry, I'm friends with Percy, and he taught me exactly how to take care of you. If I’m doing something wrong, let him know and he’ll tell me how to fix it. I promise I’ll do my best to make sure you feel like a brand new pegasus.”

Frankly, it was fucking adorable.

Pork-pie had taken a special liking to Annabeth, telepathically asking Percy if she could groom him more often. When he told this to Annabeth she’d beamed and enthusiastically agreed to come down whenever she could. Percy had off-handedly suggested that they take them out for a bit and Annabeth immediately started to release Pork-Pie from his stall.

They flew over camp for what could’ve been minutes or hours. He was lucky that Blackjack could fly himself because Percy couldn’t take his eyes off his flying partner. Her braids held firm, but a few rebellious curls were now whipping with the wind. The atmosphere combined with the speed they were flying, made her cheeks red and splotchy. Her smile is brighter than the sun, and eyes- gods her eyes were going to be the death of him. The sun and her mood (he had this theory that her eyes changed color based on her emotions) had made them almost blue, they are full of laughter, and Percy adores her. And when she directs her sunshine-smile at him, Percy can’t help but smile back.

(He doesn’t stop smiling until they land.)

...

As they're putting their pegusi back in their stalls, Blackjack decides to give him some advice.

“I know I don’t understand all of your fragile human emotions, but I know enough. There’s a lot of bad in this world of ours, and from what you’ve told me about this war business it's only gonna get worse. You gotta make the most of the good.”  He tilts his head over to Annabeth who is cooing at a preening Pork-Pie.

“You and ladyboss, you’re good together. And really nothing else matters.”

He doesn’t have time to even think about a response when Annabeth is walking over from Pork-Pie’s stall, and telling him it's time for a picnic.

...

(“What did Blackjack say to you? You looked kinda flustered when I got you.” Percy almost drops the plate he’s piling with food from the buffet. He’s gotten three pointedly confused looks at the sight of him and Annabeth together and not strangling each other and a thumbs-up from Grover. He and Annabeth are getting their food and then they’ll go sit by the beach.

“Oh,” He clears his throat and goes with the first thing he thinks of. “Blackjack calls you ladyboss.” Good that's good, not technically a lie either.

“Huh. Weird.” Annabeth, seemingly satisfied with this, returns her attention to the grapes she is adding to her plate.)

...

“Where do you go?” Annabeth asks. She’s sitting next to him in the sand brushing crumbs off her fingers. They had been eating and watching the ocean in comfortable silence and Percy furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “Lots of days when you’re at camp for lunch and sometimes dinner you just disappear for hours. And I know you aren’t going home because your stuff is still in your cabin. Where do you go?”

It’s not an accusation, just a question. Percy gets the feeling she doesn’t want to know so she can disturb, she just worries. Percy knows her. He knows she’s always planning for the worst and she needs to be able to get to him if there's an emergency.

(It strikes him that she notices when he disappears and he feels guilty but also just a little hopeful. Because she misses him as much as he misses her.)

He stacks their plates and rests them on the blanket they’d been sharing. Percy stands up and holds out his hand, gesturing for Annabeth to do the same.

“C’mon, I’ll show you.”

...

He tells her to close her eyes. She gives him a skeptical look but obliges and holds out her hands, a silent request for him to guide her. It’s almost easier to take her hands in his without those trademark eyes on him. But it’s not any less intense. As soon as their fingers interlock sparks of electricity lick up his arm. Now that her eyes are closed he can look at her face up close without fear. Her curls had gotten more unruly as the day went on, and the ringlets that framed her face blew lightly in the ocean breeze. He leads her slowly towards the ocean, using his powers to dry any spot she walks on. He sees her brows furrow when she notices how far they’ve walked towards the ocean without their feet getting wet, but she doesn’t say anything. He parts the water for her to walk through, and when the water rises above their heads, he forms an air bubble that moves with them, keeping them dry. When they get to a good spot, squeezes her hand signaling for her to stop with him, but tells her to keep her eyes closed. Then he closes his eyes with her and calls out to the ocean's creatures, making himself a beacon.

Here I am, he thinks. The son of Poseidon.

Come to me.

Minutes pass.

“You can open your eyes now.” He whispers.

She does, and lets out a soft gasp, “Oh, Percy.”

He smiles and looks out at the scene before them. He’d come down here after a particularly bad day and just wanted to sit in silence. It was an accident, calling the creatures to him. Subconsciously, he must have sent a message along that he was feeling alone. And all sorts of sea creatures - from greek monsters and to great white sharks to your average cod had flocked to him. And he didn’t feel so alone. So now, whenever he couldn’t take the human world, he’d come down here and talk to the fish.

This time he’d actually concentrated on getting a message out and they did not disappoint. He couldn’t count all the animals that had heeded his call but it was a sight to behold. He had willed some glowing coral from the deeper ocean to stay in that spot, which created a multicolored tint to everything around them.

Normally they come right up close to him, but this time they were hesitant. And as he listened to the creatures and heard more than a few whispers of Athena and stranger, he’s suddenly reminded that she’s the only person he’s ever done this with. It’s his favorite place, and she is the only other person ever to see it.

“It's okay guys, she’s a friend.” He reassures them. When he looked back at Annabeth, her mouth was still hung open and she was staring out at the scene in front of them in wonder. He smiles at her dazed silence and uses the hand he’s still holding to tug her up to the barrier of the bubble. The first creature willing to accept Annabeth is a baby spotted dolphin. He swims towards the clumsily with eager fins and pokes at the barrier with it’s snout. Annabeth's eyes widen in fear and look up at him and it takes a second to realize she isn’t afraid of the animal, but of their bubble popping.

“Don’t worry, the bubble won’t break unless I break it myself, and it’ll last however long I want it to.” He reassures her. He senses her hesitation so he guides her hand up to meet the snout of the baby dolphin who seems fascinated with Annabeth herself. He reaches his snout and head bumps directly into the spot on the bubble where her palm is placed.

Annabeth lets out a laugh, the kind of laugh that sort of bubbles out of you without warning and it’s the best thing Percy’s ever heard. He watches as the shock fades for her features and she pets the infant creature through the sheen of bubble keeping them dry. The animals begin to warm up to Annabeth as well, and as soon as they figure out she’s not some evil Athena agent sent to destroy the ocean, they join in on the fun. Hundreds of ocean creatures of all sizes begin doing tricks, nuzzling up to the flexible barrier, all vying for Annabeth’s attention. Annabeth herself is happy to oblige. Ever consistent, she introduces herself to each creature she meets. She smiles and laughs and reaches out to all the animals she can. Percy is happy simply to watch her and keep the bubble up but then she turns to him, eyebrow drawn together in concern, pointing to a particularly awnry seahorse, and asks what it's saying.

“He says his name is Frank and that he’s ‘too pregnant for this shit.’”

Annabeth stares blankly.

“His words not mine.” Percy offers hands up in surrender.

Then she snorts and then they’re laughing, they’re laughing harder than they have in years, and it's that kind of hysterical laugh where everything around them makes it more funny, and soon Percy’s clutching his stomach and Annabeth is beet red.  As soon as it subsides enough to get words out Annabeth is shaking his arm saying “Do that one! What's he saying? Oh my gods what even is that? Does that one like me? That ones majestic, what's his name? Oh Percy, look!! Look at that one!”

So he translates and they laugh and he teaches her different species and Annabeth nods along like it’s very important stuff. She pets the baby dolphin through the bubble and listens intently to all the animals telling her stories, even though she can’t understand a word until Percy tells her what they said. And when it’s time to go he sees the tears in her eyes and tells Percy to promise the baby that she’ll visit all the time, even though they both know she can’t.

(Apparently the baby dolphins name is Arnold, and according to his mother, he was so enthralled by Annabeth because when he first saw her he thought she was an angel.)

(Percy thinks he’s not too far off.)

...

(“That was incredible Percy. Thank you so much for sharing that with me.” They had been walking in silence as they made their way back to camp using the bubble, enjoying the afterglow of their adventure.

“Yeah, of course.” She smiles at him and looks ahead.

He’s not sure why he does it but without looking at her he reaches out and ever so carefully, and brushes her fingertips with his.

Her breath hitches, but she doesn’t say anything.

Then suddenly, miraculously, her hand tilts and their fingers are interlocked.

And there's no pretense of guiding her somewhere, they’re just….holding hands.

And it's perfect.)

...

Percy thinks if he’s not in love with her, he’s pretty damn close.

Because this feeling, the one he gets in his chest when he looks at her, is what love feels like.  

...

When they resurface, they’re met with twinkling lights and the last three stragglers singing softly at the campfire. It’s almost time for lights out.

Oh.

Oh no.

Annabeth seems to be coming to the same realization, as she clears her throat and lets go of his hand. He misses her fingers immediately.

“So, I guess we should start heading to bed.” She looks at him, hopeful but he’s stuck. Stuck in the feeling of dread at the idea of waking up tomorrow and not having his best friend. Suddenly the idea of leaving her side is so unbearable he can’t speak.

“Goodnight, Percy.” She’s turning around and backing away when the words lodged in his throat come unstuck.

“8 in the morning.” She turns giving him a ‘what are you on about’ look.

“That when you came and got me at 8 in the morning. We agreed on 24 hours. It's only been 12.”

She smiles slow and wide, “You know you're right, that math checks out.”

“We had very clear terms. We even shook on it.”

“Yes we did.”, she nods gravely. “It’s a binding agreement, we can’t just ignore it.”

“So what do we do?”

She flashes a wicked grin. “You aren’t the only one with a secret spot.”

...

Percy arrives in the Big House 20 minutes after curfew was called, exactly as Annabeth had instructed. He felt her presence before she re-materialized in front of him and in a low conspiratorial whisper tells him to follow her.

They sneak down to the basement and Percy is confused when she keeps walking towards the corner. She lifts up a floorboard and starts climbing down a ladder. She beckons him to join her and when he makes it down the ladder, he can’t help the smile that breaks out. It’s a sort of underground attic, complete with a worn dusty couch, blankets and an old TV.

“I found it my first year at camp by accident. I was down doing chores and one of the broom strings got caught under it. I didn’t have many friends except for….” She lets him fill in the blank rather than say the name out loud. “And when he wanted to be with kids his own age, I’d come here. There's only five movies down here and I memorized them.” She looks down at her shoes. “I know it’s not the sea floor but..”

“Are you kidding? It’s awesome. What are the movies?”

They dig around and end up finding two more that apparently seven-year-old Annabeth did not think worth the time. They watch Die Hard first, (“Oh my Gods I can't believe you haven’t watched Die Hard. This is a travesty. It’s a classic Annabeth.”) then Pulp Fiction, ("I can’t believe it, all the shit you gave me for not seeing Die Hard, and you haven’t Pulp Fiction?? You absolute heathen!") and Clueless. ("What? It has to be full of violence and toxic masculinity to be good? It’s a good movie Percy, shut-up.") Before he knows it, it’s 3:54 am shaking with hysterical silent laugher at Annabeth's impression of Dionysus.

“Oh my gods oh-OH! Do you know what we’ve got to do?”

“Uh-oh, what?”

She grins impishly and a little deliriously. “We’ve gotta go to our spot.”

“Ah, of course. Yes, our spot, totally.” He says in a voice he hopes is neutral, in an effort to gage if she’s serious.  

“Oh my gods.” She gasps, offended.

“What.”  

“I can’t believe this.”

“You can’t believe what?”

“You forgot our spot.”

“I’m sorry Annabeth, until four seconds ago I wasn’t aware we had a spot.”

“Oh my gods. I can not believe this-” He can tell she’s messing with him, and not actually mad.

“Annabeth, just tell me where it is.”

“I simply can not believe this, you absolute heathen-”

“Stop calling me a heathen, and tell me where it is.”

She smiles, “I can show you.”

...

“Oh, of course! This is our spot!”

Annabeth chuckles, “I told you.” They’re standing at the edge of the forest at the tallest of the rock clusters to the far left. It's the one they used to go to after their first quest, the place where Annabeth taught him the constellations. The place where he made his first real friend. Not people he hung out with to avoid getting picked on. Not a searcher who happened to like the demigod he found.  His first real best-friend.

They climbed up easily and lay down looking straight up at the sky. Annabeth points up at the floating memorials, and Percy dutifully recites the legends of how they earned their place in the sky. They're shoulder to shoulder and their fingers graze each other for longer than necessary. And slowly they lull into comfortable silence, arms overlapping, at some point Annabeth's head lands on his shoulder. Percy freezes for a while, staying absolutely still as if she’s a wild creature who could bolt at any moment. But then he relaxes, and she relaxes and he’s pretty sure she’s asleep until she takes in a shaky breath and whispers, “Hey, Percy?”

“Yeah?”

“We’re gonna be okay right?” He can tell she's trying to mask the vulnerability in her voice. And he can’t see all of her face from the angle they’re laying, but her nose is on his collarbone, and her hair is tickling his chin.

He closes his eyes, and he thinks. He thinks about Luke and Rachel and how nothings been the same since Percy blew up that mountain.

He thinks about seeing her for the first time, grey eyes wide hair falling off her shoulders and how even after everything he just went through, he felt safe. He thinks about ‘you drool when you sleep’, and the way she looked at him when he was claimed- awestruck and pitiful at the same time. He thinks about rolled eyes, stamped feet, and frustration always just under the surface. He thinks about silent truces, and letting guards down, and shared oreos in the back of a mobile zoo. He thinks about sweaty palms gripping each other in the Underworld, and shaky hands giving him a good luck camp necklace. He thinks about camp fires, stupid jokes, learning about the stars, and how the just fit.

He thinks about postcards and iris-messages, and how she punched Matt Sloane square on the nose. He thinks about how despite the arguing and the confusion about Tyson, she was always there when she needed him. How she didn’t hesitate to sneak out of camp with one of the first species he ever learned to truly fear, because he asked her to. He thinks about her in a dress and how tongue-tied him in guinea pig form. He thinks about her broken sobs and how she clutched at him in their underwater bubble. He thinks about winning a chariot race, the softest of cheek kisses and how in this world of gods and monsters, she’s the only thing he was really sure about.

He thinks about how she was the first girl he ever danced with, and how light everything felt when she was around. He thinks about how it felt strangely familiar when she fell off that cliff, and how only days later realized that it was the same desperation he had when Hades took his mother. He thinks about how gutted it was when he found out she was thinking about joining the Hunters. He thinks about his visit from Aphrodite and how even though she changed form, her hair smelled like lemons the entire time. He thinks about when he saw her on that cliff it was like the sun came out. How he saw her face and it was smudged with dirt and cuts but she was alive and he could breathe again. He thinks about how his throat closed up when he thought Artemis was going to pick her for the Hunt. He remembers how when they danced on Olympus, for a song she was prettier than Aphrodite.

He thinks about planning a movie date, and how he discovered Annabeth doesn’t get any less pretty when she’s mad at him. How she sat right next to him at dinner and how when she fixed his armour, his neck burned wherever she touched him. He thinks about falling in a whole and holding her hand and how they’d done it before but it felt different that time. He thinks about ping pong table meetings and how he became aware of the fact that he’d follow her anywhere. He thinks about the determination in her when she faced the Sphinx, and how the same fire was in them right before she kissed him. He thinks about how she tasted like smoke and salt, and how for the 3.2 seconds that his lips were hers, the first thing he thought was ‘we fit like this too’. He thought he was going to die but it was okay. It was okay that he was going to die, because he had gotten to kiss her. He thinks about Calypso’s Island, and how he dreamt about her every night. How when he crashed his funeral, she held like she couldn’t bear to let go and how that was fine with him. He thinks about the blur that was the labyrinth, full of unshed tears, words that cut, and how despite all the scream fights and the terror, and the barely contained rage, none of it lessened the fierce protectiveness he feels for her. How despite it all, she's still the best thing that's ever fucking happened to him. He thinks about the last line of her prophecy, and how she thought it was about him.

He loves her.

He’s not sure if he’s in love with her because he’s 15 and he hasn’t exactly had time to date around but he knows that for a fact. Knowing Annabeth, loving Annabeth has made him who he is. She is burned into his DNA. Somehow the 12 year old with princess curls and eyes that cut, crawled under his skin. He knows he’s done the same to her, even though they’re both too stubborn to say it out loud. They could never really leave each other, even if they tried.

So Percy shifts so he can see her face in the pale moonlight, brushes a curl out of her face and says,

“Yeah. It’s us Annabeth. We’re gonna be alright.”

She smiles soft and real because she knows him, so she knows he means it. He’s not sure who reaches out this time, but they're holding hands and staring at the sky in a silence that speaks volumes.

They stay like that until it’s sunrise and they have to sneak into their respective cabins. Looking at stars, fighting sleep, and forgetting about the rest of the world.

______________

(They hold hands all the way back to her cabin.)

(He doesn’t stop smiling the whole way back to his own.)

______________

if your still here hi! thank you for reading. send in prompts from this list, or any sentence starter you want to read. ask box is open for those and if you just wanna say hi :)

[whatifxwereyou]

The Oncoming Storm Part 17: Blackout

Liu Kang x Reader and Kung Lao x Reader (gonna do both, two paths!)

Oh no, you made things complicated. Lol. I'm having more fun writing Kung Lao than should be allowed. Hopefully you guys enjoy! And yes, I know this is tropey but I also don't care LOL, it's a fun trope.

Part 16 Part 18 Chapter Index

The hotel was surprisingly crowded. You weren’t sure what you’d expected but you hadn’t expected it to be bustling with tourists. There was a festival happening, you should have expected this. A bit outdated, the hotel was still clean and inviting. A welcome reprieve from the stone walls of Raiden’s Temple. You’d arrived early and still had to wait in line. Raiden had ‘transported’ you there which had been a wild experience in and of itself. You’d walked into a bolt of lightning and had come out in a quiet alley unseen.

It had been so long since you’d walked amongst the average civilian that it felt straight up bizarre to be walking along the streets of the modest city, especially in your hanfu. It was all you’d had, after all. No one looked at you twice other than to greet you politely. Most of the other folks staying at the hotel for the festival were couples on a romantic getaway which had made it instantly weird to be waiting in line with Kung Lao to check into your respective rooms.

Thankfully, the line moved quickly and once you’d checked in, you dropped off the few belongings you’d brought with you. The room was tiny with a single bed, a desk taking up nearly the rest of the room. Atop the desk was a television and beneath that was an old, ancient mini fridge. It would do well enough. This was the most technology you’d seen in weeks. Afterwards, you’d found Kung Lao and told him that you would meet him in an hour. You’d made note of a clothing store down the road and wanted to see if there was anything worth buying.

He, of course, decided to join you. No one trusted you alone anymore. He didn’t say it like that, but you knew that Raiden had told both him and Liu to keep an eye on you. You felt like a ticking time bomb.

Once at the shop you were disappointed to find that it sold mostly yukatas and kimonos. You supposed it was better than the flowy hanfu. At least you could pick out something that would be your own rather than something that had been handed to you.

Boy, you missed the internet.

You picked out a few pieces that you could work with a bit easier. Most of the hanfu were dresses or long flowy robes. Here you’d been able to find a few women’s kimonos that had hakama pants as an option. You had never been so excited to see pants in your life. You didn’t need the whole kimono, just the pants. Some constricted around the ankles while others were left open. You grabbed both and were extremely pleased.

“Sometimes, you’re a very simple woman.” Kung Lao had patted you on the back when you’d showed him the pants in excitement. You had to agree. In that moment you were very simple. Pants had brought you joy. You’d wandered away from him after that to find a few tops, belts, and jackets. Thankfully, you’d had your wallet on you when this had all begun so you had some money on you. In Raiden’s Temple, money hadn’t been necessary, so you were happy to spend it on the few things you did need.

They weren’t jeans and a t-shirt or even cute dresses, but it felt like a step in the right direction toward feeling like yourself again. You hadn’t realized how much it had bothered you until then.

Kung Lao had purchased just enough for the day in flattering red and black. That seemed to be his aesthetic though you could picture him in blues too for some reason. Then you made your way back to the hotel and to your rooms on the top floor. You had gotten rooms next to each other. You went to get changed and were happy with what you saw even in the half mirror on the desk. You stood on the bed to get a better look. Black hakama pants and a grayish-lavender and black top with a white sash tied around your middle. You then pulled your hair back in a ponytail and admired yourself in the mirror. Even though your hair was a mess you looked much more like yourself.

Your white roots had grown out a couple of inches now. It didn’t look bad, but it definitely didn’t look like it was on purpose either.

Oh well! You jumped off the bed and then left the room to find Kung Lao waiting for you, leaned against the wall next to your door. He had one foot propped against the wall, arms folded across his chest, hat obscuring his face as it often did. The clothing he’d bought wasn’t too terribly different from what he usually wore with the notable exception that he had sleeves which was truly a shame. He tilted his head up just enough to greet you before stepping away from the wall. You hadn’t left him waiting that long and yet he acted as though he’d been there for ages.

You noticed the jade ring from his usual outfit was woven into his outfit with the sash around his waist laced through it. It was kind of sweet that he always seemed to have it on him.

“Is that significant in some way? Special?” You asked, gesturing to the ring. He looked down at the ring in surprise and then nodded down the hall. You walked slowly through the hotel toward the stairwell.

“It’s a relic from my ancestor, the Great Kung Lao.”

“Oh, wow. About that, though… I’ve heard people mention him, but I had never heard the name before you. I know that he’s of some importance which has made you important…”

“I am incredibly important, thank you.”

“Yes, very. Keep talking.”

“He was the first champion of Mortal Kombat who had come from the Shaolin Order of Light. He defeated Shang Tsung and won the tournament.” Kung Lao seemed as though he had told this story a hundred times but was still proud to tell it. It was oddly sweet. “He was champion of Earthrealm for fifty years before the tournament was corrupted and he was killed. Even so, he is held in great reverence. He was a remarkable warrior.”

“Is that why you have a dragon mark?”

“Yes, that is why I have the mark. It’s also why I was sent away so young. I’d already been training long before I’d met you. When I left it was because it was time for me to go live at the temple.”

You stopped walking before the stairs and he stopped just in front of you and turned to face you. “Then why were you so bad when we would pretend to fight?”

“I held back. I wanted you to have fun too. Besides, it felt nice to be normal back then.” He laughed and you caught up to him and started down the stairs. “I was thinking that we should come up with a story as to why we’re here.”

“Should we?”

“Obviously. We need a reason to be here.”

“Other than the reason we actually have?”

“And when a bunch of strangers ask you why we’re here, are you going to tell them the real reason we’re here?”

“Point taken.”

“We need a cover.”

“Do we really though? I don’t remember ever having to justify my actions that intensely to strangers before. We can just be visiting.” You jumped down the last two stairs to the landing between flights. Pants felt great. Kung Lao seemed to either be overthinking your trip or grasping at straws to get to some end point. Or he was going to cause trouble. You would never forget the look that both Raiden and Liu had given him on their way out.

“I’ve been asked three times what brings me to Mount Osore during the festival. I came up with a lie on the spot but I’m no terribly proud of it or anything.”

“And what is this lie you came up with?”

“I said I was here on a date. Everyone else seems to be here on a date, so it was the first thing that jumped to mind.”

You rolled your eyes at him and he laughed in surprise, waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs. You caught up to him. “Really, Kung Lao?”

“What? It’s the first thing I could think of! The people asking me were on a date and so I stuttered that I was too.”

“Kung Lao, no.”

“Come on, Y/N.”

“Can’t we just say we’re visiting and that it’s no one’s business?” You walked into the lobby and he hurried in front of you and took your hands, clasping them between his. You sighed. “Would you…” The lobby was very crowded.

“I hate you so much right now.”

“Would you,” he continued, talking over you, “do me the honor of going on a cute little pretend date with me so that we can sneak into an ancient Buddhist Temple built within the caldera of a volcano so that we can uncover an ancient and possibly cursed artifact together?” You stared at him in disbelief, but it was taking every ounce of your energy not to burst into laughter. He was such a dork. “I will get down on my knees and ask you again if you don’t answer me.” He got down on his knees and you broke. Laughing, you pulled your hands free, grabbed his arms and tugged.

“Oh my god, get up, Kung Lao.”

“It’s a great cover, Y/N.”

“It is an exactly okay cover. But fine. I haven’t done something terribly embarrassing in a while, so I guess I’m overdue for this.” You agreed at least. He was right. It was a good cover considering this whole place was filled with couples. Besides, if it got Kung Lao to drop the subject then you would be happy to agree. The whole display had made your cheeks burn.

“Embarrassing, huh? Come on, Y/N. It’s not such a bad thing, is it? Could be worse looking guys to end up with, right?” He walked at your side again, making a teasing kissy face and leaning close to you. You leaned away with an awkward and nervous laugh.

“If you keep doing things like that then you are going to get smacked.”

“Worth it.” He held the door open for you and together you left the hotel. Outside a bus waited to take tourists to the shrine for the festival. People were already loading onto it. Kung Lao offered you his hand and you looked to him skeptically. He grabbed your hand anyway and then you walked onto the bus. “You’re going to have to get better at pretending.” You found seats near the back of the bus and even as you sat, he didn’t let go of your hand. You felt incredibly silly. Yet, it also made your heart flutter. As much as you had given him a hard time, you also happened to think it was an incredibly sweet and kind of wholesome idea.

Funny enough, you had thought of this moment before but in a much different context. Maybe in a life where your childhood together hadn’t ended so traumatically. Where you’d stayed close friends and he’d have asked you out when you were old enough. In a way, you felt like a silly schoolgirl, something you hadn’t felt in years.

If he hadn’t died then this was exactly where you would have wound up. Somehow that made you feel much less silly and you finally relaxed. Kung Lao pointed out several interesting things on the side of the road through the window and you listened to him chatter on until the bus was pulling up to the shrine. You waited for the others to get off the bus and then you walked ahead of Kung Lao and stepped off it.

The shrine was huge and it took your breath away.

So much so that it made you dizzy.

A river flowed before you then beneath a red bridge. To the left of the bridge there was a white beach lining the bluest and most artificial-looking water that you had ever seen in your life. Rocks were piled alongside the shore in strange formations. Beyond the bridge there was a stone path that led to the shrine in the distance, and it was lined with old lanterns. You walked to the edge of the stone path where the bus had dropped you off to try and get a better look at the water.

That was a teal color you had never seen before in nature. In your mind’s eye, you recalled your vision and it made your stomach drop. You took a step further and were suddenly grasped around the waist and pulled away from the edge of the stone. Then Kung Lao looped his arm in yours. “You looking to take a dip?”

You hadn’t realized that you had almost walked right into the river. You hadn’t been thinking. The water had bewitched you, it seemed. You needed to get a closer look at it but now that you’d been turned away from it, the feeling had gone. From there you could smell the acidity in the humid air. That was likely why it was so blue. “Pay more attention, okay?”

You weren’t sure what to say to him. It was surreal being there. This place was exactly the same as it had been in your vision but also years, possibly centuries had passed since then. The shrine buildings themselves were much larger than they had been then. They were even a different color. Your head was spinning as you tried to take in everything at once. It was an overload. You grabbed Kung Lao’s arm to try and ground yourself. You felt as though you were floating and the wind would take you away.

Kung Lao led you onto the bridge and at its apex you sat and watched the water trickle beneath it. He helped you lean your elbows against the railing and then placed a supportive hand on your back.

“It’s okay. Take a second.” He seemed to realize that you were having a difficult time. How could you explain that you were struggling to wrap your mind around being in a place where you’d had such a vivid and violent vision? You were grateful for him. Your heart was racing and you watched the water flowing beneath the bridge, over the rocks. Your stomach had dropped. It felt as though you were intimately familiar with this place, as though you had spent years there, but you had never once seen it before. At the same time, everything felt completely new. Your brain was waging war with itself. “You okay?”

“Yeah, this is just… surreal.” You were finally able to collect your thoughts enough to talk.

“You went a bit gray. Figured you needed a minute.”

“I appreciate it.”

“So, where do we go?”

“There’s a well inside one of those buildings.” You nodded to your right where the shrine was at the end of the stone path.

“Vague, but okay.” He peered to the right and then pointed. “It’s off limits.” From there you could see a series of ropes that blocked off the building from visitors. “Great.”

“It’s crowded enough here. I’m sure we can sneak in just fine.”

“Of course.” He leaned next to you on his forearms, hands clasped together. “This place is a little spooky.”

“It is. I read a brochure from the hotel lobby. The monks here believe that it’s the gateway to hell. The river beneath us is supposed to represent the Sanzu.” You pointed below you. It was a little spooky, you supposed, but it was also incredibly beautiful.

“I read about that. I also read that there are holy water bathhouses and volcanic cauldrons with crazy colored water.”

“Yeah, and a lake of blood.”

“I hate that, Y/N.” He stuck his tongue out at the idea. You laughed. He was too funny. He had this way of making you feel at least even about the big and often uncomfortable things sometimes. Other times he drove your anxiety through the roof. Thankfully, this wasn’t one of those moments. “What do you say that we get to sneaking in and find this thing so that we can have a bit of fun for the rest of the day, huh?”

“That sounds nice.”

He took your hand once again and you walked over the bridge and along the stone path. The lanterns were decorated for the festival along with the rest of the shrine. Monks walked about, greeting visitors and answering questions while explaining various attractions. Most visitors, and there were many, were straying from the temple in favor of the white sands or the volcanic cauldrons. You and Kung Lao walked until you reached the ropes before the shrine. You stood there for a time in the shade, waiting for your moment to sneak in unseen.

“Coast is clear,” you whispered and turned to keep watch while Kung Lao snuck into the shrine. Once inside, you waited for your opportunity and followed him. Inside, the building was ancient but to you it seemed oddly brand new. It wasn’t the same shrine that you remembered from your vision. Much had changed since that wicked man had been there.

No one was waiting for you inside the small entryway or in the room beyond. That seemed like the central room, with space for prayer and a dip in the center for dining. The floor was lined with tatami mats and the ceiling was high, windows on the second floor spattering sunlight throughout the room. Halls branched off in each direction and you suddenly felt overwhelmed with choice. It had seemed so much simpler in your vision.

“Lead the way but be cautious. We’re not alone.” Kung Lao spoke in a hushed tone, staying close to you but alert.

“Yeah.” You started through the room and down the closest hallway, checking to see if it was empty first. Kung Lao took your hand and you urged him along with you. Your stomach was in knots and his hand there continued to keep you grounded. Several times you encountered monks going about their business and you had to duck into other rooms or sneak back around corners. You somehow managed to remain unseen, having to huddle together in strange spaces and hide in enclosed areas. It would have been fun had it not been so damn frustrating.

None of it made sense! As you turned down another hall, you sighed in frustration. You’d wound up there twice already. Your gut kept sending you there and back to the central room but there was no indication that it was the same place that the vision had taken place in. Kung Lao suddenly pulled you back into the side room and held you against the wall near the door. There were footsteps in the hall, and you held your breath until they had passed. You made to go back into the hall, but Kung Lao pinned you in place.

“You’re leading us in circles.”

“I know. It’s hard to explain. It’s like someone’s moving everything around while we’re walking. It doesn’t make any sense. I think I’m going one way and then we’re back to where we started.” It was making you sick to your stomach, as a matter of fact.

“You can do this. Just focus.”

“Kung Lao, you have no idea what’s going on in my head right now. I am focusing.”

“You’re right I don’t. So, tell me.”

“I’m not sure that I have the words to explain that the room we’re looking for should be right around the corner but then it isn’t.” It really was disorienting to expect to be in one place and end up in another. “It shouldn’t have been this far back but also this place is ten times bigger than it had been in my vision.”

“I need you to try still.”

You were mixed up. It was like someone was moving rooms in your head and before you knew it, you had once again led him back into the central room which made both you and Kung Lao groan in annoyance.

“Oh good. We’re back. I was worried.”

“It should be right here, but everything looks so different!”

“It’s okay, Y/N. We’ll figure it out.”

“It’s not okay, Kung Lao. It should be right here. I wish I could just show you.” The frustration was radiating off you, you were sure. “I can’t-”

“Is someone there?” A voice from somewhere down the hall called and footsteps approached from a distance.

“Fu…” Kung Lao whispered and then grabbed you and searched for somewhere to hide. The closest hall was too far. You were caught. “Don’t panic.” He urged you to the wall with surprising care and you made a sound of surprise. What did he mean don’t panic? You were instantly panicking. Don’t panic? What was wrong with him? He leaned against you and tilted your chin up and his head toward you like he was going to kiss you, obscuring you both with his hat. “Act natural, Y/N.” His lips brushed against your cheek, just next to your lips. “I swear, you’re terrible at this.” You were stiff as a board, so he had every right to scold you, but also he was pretending to kiss you so what the hell were you supposed to do with that? What was natural in this case?

You gave him a swift but soft punch in the gut and he laughed against your cheek in return. That made you feel a bit better. He lifted his head just enough and you peered toward the door nearby, waiting for the monk that would inevitably kick you out. You could have had time to hide at this rate. Kung Lao’s lips were pressed against your cheek and they were soft even if it was just in a mock kiss close enough to your lips to look like you were sneaking a private moment.

You peered around the corner, thinking maybe you were in the clear. Kung Lao did the same and when you turned back to tell him that maybe the monk had decided to turn away, you found him extremely close to you. Intimately so. His dark eyes were serious and that always scared you for whatever reason. He tilted your chin toward him and all other thoughts slipped out of your brain.

What were you doing there? Where were you anyway? And why? Did it matter?

Not right now it didn’t.

His hand was on your chin, thumb brushing just below your lip, urging your lips to part just enough. You dared not breathe to break the tension of the moment. The sneaking and searching were gone completely from your thoughts. All that was left was the boy that you’d so admired in your youth grown into a handsome man with his hand against the wall at your side, the other inextricably lost below your lower lip.

His eyes were searching you, but you dared not look back into them for fear of what you might find, for fear of what it might reveal to you. His breath warmed your lips before they were on yours, parting them like a blossom in a soft and singular tender movement. A far superior kiss than the one he’d pretended to give you for the sake of saving your skin.

His lips were sweet. Not like sugar or candy, but sweet like the lingering taste of honey at the bottom of a cup of tea. It was a feeling of sweetness rather than a flavor. The moment was still and soft, his lips treasuring yours as though they were something sacred and special. They pulled back just enough from yours that you could feel your lips resisting to part as if they had minds of their own. His eyes were searching you still for answers and in wonder, but you didn’t dare meet them. Yet, you could feel his gaze and beneath your fingertips, that had betrayed you and now rested on his chest, you could feel his heart beating almost as hard as yours.

His breath graced your lips again, but you dared not breathe. You wanted to say something, even just a whisper of his name, but no words would come and you sat there, lips parted in waiting, avoiding his eyes, hand clutching the cloth at his chest, unsure of where you even were or why. This was Kung Lao.

Your Kung Lao.

A soft sigh escaped his lips as they were on yours again, but the softness was gone, though there was something about them that was still sweet even so. The force of his kiss pressed you against the wall, leaving you no escape- not that you wanted to escape. This was a moment that the ten-year-old inside your head had both longed for and not understood. You would have been a fool not to return his kiss, to taste and experience his lips the way that he was with yours and so you did. You kissed him and it was like a storm inside you beyond your control, building with electricity with every moment that passed.

There was a tender moment of acceptance where it felt as though time stood still. The soft moment faded quickly to frenzied desperation. There was no space left between you. Kung Lao was pressed against you, body warm and strong, hat nearly pushed back off of his head as he favored kisses over his possessions. Your hands moved up his chest, to the sides of his neck, fingertips then tangling in the short, messy tendrils of his hair at the base of his hairline. Your heart was doing flips, brain completely turned off to anything that had happened before this, even if somewhere in the distant reaches of your mind you could hear your instincts telling you that you had to stop. Whatever muting effect had been triggered in your brain had seemed to impact Kung Lao as well.

In one swift motion, fluid and strong, his hands were at your thighs and he had lifted you and pressed you against the wall, urging your legs to wrap around him. Your arms slipped naturally around his shoulders, pulling him closer between hot and increasingly sloppy kisses.

“Excuse me?”

Ah, yes. The monk. That was right.

You stopped kissing him.

Kung Lao’s lips finally pulled from yours and you could feel that your own were left slightly swollen from the desperation and passion of those precious few moments. When had you gotten so tangled up in each other? His chest was rising and falling against yours quickly and even though he’d pulled back his lips lingered close to yours as if to consider defying the monk further.

“My apologies.” The monk sounded embarrassed and bowed multiple times. “This area is closed to the public for the festival.”

You finally managed to regain your thoughts and untangled yourself from Kung Lao. You placed your feet on the ground and cleared your throat though your face was likely as red as his robes. He released you from his grip though he made no effort to step away. You swallowed the lump in the back of your throat and forced your brain to work.

“Is it?” You sounded surprised and were grateful that you had. You hadn’t expected to be a very good actor after all that, but you had been surprised to be interrupted and also confused as to where your mind had gone. It was more feigning innocence than lying. The monk nodded and looked as though he sincerely felt bad for interrupting you. “I’m sorry. We had no idea.”

“It’s no worries. I will happily escort you back to the festivities. Follow me.”

“Sorry about that.” Kung Lao, who you had never seen at a loss for words, seemed to finally regain himself. Just like that, he was back to the goof he’d been when you’d first arrived. “We were just sneaking off to have a private moment. Didn’t realize it was off limits.”

“It happens all the time. You’d be surprised.” The monk led you back through the central room and into the entryway. You elbowed Kung Lao as you followed the monk and he laughed beneath his breath. Once outside the monk bowed to you and then left you alone. You leaned your head back and stared into the sunny blue sky with a sigh. You needed a new plan. That one had gone off the rails in a way you hadn’t expected.

[outerbankswriting]

Could it be? Chapter 3 (JJ x Reader)

JJ x Reader

CH.1 - CH.2

Description: She has a crush on JJ, but he has always seen her as another one of the “dudes”, or  at least that’s what she thinks so she just doesn’t even try anymore, until things start to shift between the two of them. (A/N: I’M NOT GOOD AT DESCRIPTIONS BUT THESE IS JUST WHAT I WOULD LOVE TO HAPPEN IN OUTER BANKS WITH JJ)

CHAPTER 3

The sound of the birds chirping outside your window woke you up. A classic sound that never failed to make you fall more in love with your mornings.

As you opened your eyes, you saw a pair of of tanned and strong arms wrapped around you, which belonged to the boy with the golden hair you loved so much. He was peacefully asleep, his chest slowly rising up and down while his eyelashes fluttered every now and then. You carefully examined his face and felt a wave of anger fill you up as you stared at the cuts and bruises all over his cheeks.

The bruise on his left eye was turning purple and you don’t know what instinct got into you that made you softly trace your fingers across his face, careful to not hurt him or wake him up, but you failed at it.

His eyes slowly opened up and yours widened up, and you felt yourself starting to blush.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to wake you up,” you covered your mouth, “did I hurt you?”

He smiled lazily and to your surprise, pulled you even closer to him.

“Not really,” his voice was raspy and he closed his eyes again, “it actually feels nice, can you keep doing it?”

You bit your lip to contain the smile that wanted to get out and instead poked his side, making his eyes snap wide open.

“Hey! What was that for?!”

“Get your lazy ass up.”

As much as you wanted to stay in bed with JJ, the two of you were supposed to meet with the Pogues in less than an hour for breakfast and you knew they would get suspicious if neither of you showed up. Even though, no one knew about your feelings for JJ and probably would never even imagine the two of you being something.

“I can skip breakfast,” he groaned, “your bed is too comfy, I want to stay here.”

“No you won’t skip breakfast.”

You got out of bed, pulled your hair into a quick ponytail and headed into your bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face. JJ was still laying down in bed with his eyes closed and you took the time to admire the sight in front of you. The sunlight making his blonde hair look golden and him looking angelic even with his face all bruised up.

“Come on JJ, get up!”

He groaned again but finally got out of bed after you threatened to poke his sides again. He went to the bathroom to get ready while you were deciding on which swimsuit to wear.

“Why do you have so many lotions here?” He said while brushing his teeth and clearly making a mess all over your sink.

“They’re not only lotions,” you grabbed the expensive cream he was holding and placed it back on the counter, “they’re also creams, toners and liquid soaps all part of my skincare routine.”

“Do you even need all of this?” He dried his face with your pink towel, making you giggle.

“Of course I do,” you grabbed the tiny cream container and tapped some eye cream on your under-eyes, “I’m practically out in the sun all day, I need to take care of my skin alright?”

“I just put sunscreen on and call it a day.” He curiously stared at you as you finished prepping your face.

“At least you put sunscreen on.”

“What happens if you don’t wear all that?” He was still staring at you, the crease between his eyebrows showing up.

“I would get wrinkles pretty fast and the sun could damage my skin a lot,” you put some lip balm on and felt JJ’s eyes staring at your lips, “my face would be an ugly mess.”

“I doubt you could ever look ugly.” He said carelessly and you felt your cheeks turn red.

JJ was never one to compliment your looks directly to you and if he ever did, it would be as a compliment from a nice friend but nothing more.

“Right,” you cleared your throat, “well talking about skincare, how are your bruises doing?”

He sat on your bed as if he were a child waiting for his mother to sit down next to him to check on him while you went to grab your soothing cream.

“They’re alright, I don’t even feel them.”

“Well show me.”

He slowly took his shirt off and you could tell he was still in pain, especially from the bruises on his stomach near his ribcage. The bruises were a deeper red and purple than last night, looking way worse.

“Oh JJ,” you shook your head and were careful to not hurt him as you rubbed the soothing cream over the bruises, “they look so bad.”

“They’re okay, nothing I can’t handle.”

“You know the others are going to ask about this right? It’s going to be impossible to hide them.”

“I’ll just tell them I ran into some Kooks.”

He put his shirt back on after you were done with the soothing cream and raised an eyebrow at you as you were still standing in front of him, looking at him with a worried look on your face.

“Y/N I’m alright, let’s go.”

He stood up from sitting on the bed and stopped right in front of you since you weren’t moving. You noticed how tall he was next to you and cleared your throat after also noticing how close you were again.

“You can’t go back home.” You looked straight into his eyes which went softer.

“Maybe not tonight but eventually I’ll have to,” he placed his hand comfortably on your shoulder, “he is my father and I can’t stay with John B forever.”

“Then stay with me.”

You were quick to say that. You were scared his father would hit him again, you didn’t want him to go back and be unsafe at a place that wasn’t supposed to feel that way.

“Y/N you kn-“

“At least for this week,” you grabbed his hand, “while my parents are away, come on.”

He paused and hesitated for a minute, not breaking eye contact with you.

“Alright then.”

Once he agreed you couldn’t help the smile taking over your face which made JJ smile back at you. He was secretly way too excited to stay with you for a whole week.

You hugged him, careful to not hurt his bruises but he pulled you closer, tightening the hug without caring about the pain coming from his bruised abdomen.

“Well I’ll go get changed.”

You broke the hug and went inside the bathroom to change into a dark blue bikini and some light denim shorts since you were spending the day at the beach with your friends.

Once the two of you were ready, you headed to the beach to meet your friends and while you were walking you argued whether to tell them about JJ staying with you or coming up with a lie.

“I think they’ll eventually find out.” You desperately ran your fingers through your hair.

“It’s only for a week,” JJ grabbed a beer from your beach bag ignoring the slap you gave him on the hand for wanting alcohol so early in the morning, “we can cover it up.”

“Why should we lie about you staying with me? It just makes the whole thing look suspicious when it isn’t.”

“Because if I had to stay somewhere it would be with John B since you know,” he paused and bit his lip awkwardly, “it’s not like I sleep at girls’ houses if I’m not banging them.”

“Excuse me, what are you trying to say?” You felt insulted for some reason.

“That they would assume we are sleeping together and you know about the no Pogue on Pogue mack-“

“Why would they assume that?!” You playfully punched him on the shoulder, “We’re friends JJ, no one’s going to think that.”

“I’m just saying that’s what I’m assuming they would think.” He jokingly raised his arms as if he were a victim.

“No they wouldn’t.”

“Why are you so closed off at the idea of them thinking that we’re banging?”

“First of all, stop saying banging and uh I don’t know it’s just crazy JJ, they would never believe it.”

“So you wouldn’t do it?”

“What are you talking about?” Your voice trembled and you cursed yourself for it.

“You wouldn’t sleep with me?”

His words almost made you choke and stop walking. Your heart was beating faster than ever and you tried your best to not let the nerves get the best of you and the fact that JJ was eagerly waiting for you to respond just made you even more nervous.

“JJ what even are y-“

“I’m just messing with you Y/N,” he chuckled as you were stuttering with your words, “I think we both know it could never happen, you know.. it’s a crazy thing as you said.”

“Okay that hurt.” You thought.

“Right,” you cleared your throat and faked a laugh, “it’s crazy.”

“I just don’t want them to know about my dad you know?” He gulped down his beer, “So I think it’s best if they just think I’m still staying at home.”

“Alright then, it’ll be our secret.”

He smiled at you and wrapped an arm around your shoulder pulling you closer to him.

“It was about time you showed up!” Kie waved at the two of you while Pope finished drinking an orange juice.

“Literally cannot believe you’re drinking beer so early in the morning.” Pope pointed at JJ’s finished beer.

“Tried to stop him but he’s stubborn.” You said as you sat down next to Kie.

“Oh look the queen of stubbornness is calling me stubborn,” JJ mocked you, “I just had to start the party earlier.”

“Right, at 11 in the morning.” Kie rolled her eyes at him.

“Was the tourist girl you slept with last night into BDSM or why is your face all bruised man?” John B raised an eyebrow at JJ, knowing he had clearly gotten into a fight.

You grabbed an orange juice from Sarah’s bag and tried your best to avoid eye contact with JJ and faked your best “what’s going on?” look.

“Unfortunately I ran into some Kooks and wasn’t even able to bang any girl,” JJ smiled and you felt sick to the stomach realising how good of a liar he was and wondering if he had lied to you before about his fights with the Kooks when it had probably been his father, “but I handled them like a champion.”

“Please tell me it wasn’t my stupid brother.” Sarah sighed.

“I won’t deny anything.” JJ shrugged and Sarah grunted.

“You know ever since you broke up with him, he’s been getting into more fights with us.” Pope shook his head at you.

“It’s not her fault man.” JJ was quick to snap at Pope.

“It’s because he’s still in love with you,” Sarah said to you as she finished her sandwich, “and he can’t stand the fact that you’d rather hang with Pogues.”

“Well I can imagine,” Kie added, “both his sister and his ex-girlfriend being part of this group, which not only consists of Pogues but also Pogues who hate him.”

“Talking about annoying Kooks,” John B joined the conversation again, “I’m afraid they’re coming to the beach party tonight.”

“For hating the Pogues they sure love the parties we throw.” Pope shook his head.

After finishing your breakfast and preparing everything for tonight’s party at the beach, all of you decided to head to your own places to get ready for the party.

“Are we getting ready together Y/N?” Kie asked as she helped you clean the mess everyone had made on the beach.

“Um I don’t know Kie,” you tried to catch JJ’s attention to know if he was heading to your place but he was too busy trying to jump into Pope’s back, “I have to organise some stuff at home.”

“Well if you change your mind you can go to my place, my dad made some delicious lasagna.” She winked at you and made her way home.

You walked towards JJ and Pope to try and figure out JJ’s plan for the night.

“So,” you smiled at your friends, “are y’all hanging out before the party?”

JJ was quick to realise what you were trying to find out.

“Yeah I’m heading over to Pope’s.”

“Wanna come?” Pope asked you.

“No thanks, I have some stuff to do at home before the party.” You smiled at your friend’s offer and he nodded.

“Hey Y/N,” JJ grabbed your arm and pulled you further from Pope so he couldn’t hear, “before heading to the party I’ll quickly go to your place to drop my bag with all my clothes and stuff for the week okay?”

You nodded at him and waved goodbye to your friends.

You took a shower as soon as you got home and decided to clean up your room, not because of JJ or anything right? 

You played some music as you did your makeup and waited for JJ to let you know he was outside so you could let him in and the two of you could make your way to the party, but time went by and he still hadn’t shown up.

Kiara texted you telling you to get earlier to the beach so you could help her organise the recycling bins to accumulate the plastic the party would leave so you figured JJ wouldn’t come any time soon and decided to just leave to the party on your own.

As you were closing the front door of your house, you heard someone moving behind you and figured it would be JJ, but as soon as you turned around, you were met with the one person you wanted to see the least.

Rafe Cameron.

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CH.4

A/N: this one was a pretty long one! sorry for any grammar mistakes, I’ll make sure to fix them tomorrow. thank u so much for everyone letting me know you’re liking the story so far! LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! sending love.

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taglist: @babygirlizz​ - @atabigail - @poguesrforlife​ - @behappyitsemmalie​ - @jane-dough - @yeeedolan - @dontjinx-it - @sofiaconlaz - @fangirlwithme​ 

[mrslilyrogers]

Betrayal Part 7

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: (AU) Set in New York. You and Bucky have been married for 5 years. He’s the love of your life and you are his. At least, you thought you were until he started slipping away from you, coming home late and smelling of another woman’s perfume? You are in denial. Are you just losing your mind or are you really losing him?

Author’s notes: I’m so so sorry this took so long! I redid the whole thing. We’re going to back up a bit in this chapter and visit the past. Please check the warnings before reading. Also, my requests are open. Send ideas if you’re feeling particularly angsty! Or even fluff, I’d like to try my hand at it. As always, let me know what you think of this chapter! For tags, please send in ask! 

Warnings: Cheating, Angst, Abuse, Swearing

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4  Part 5 Part 6

2 years ago.

Bucky tapped his fingers on the table as he checked his watch again. 8:15. Forty-five minutes late. Again. He let out a huge sigh, barely able to hold himself from scratching his eyes out. The curly-haired waitress went back to him with an apologetic look on her face, “I’m sorry, sir. My manager told me I really need to take your order now. There’s already a line waiting outside…” she let her sentence trail sheepishly. Bucky tried to ignore the heat creeping up his cheeks and gave her an unconvincing smile instead, reciting his order. When she left with visible relief on her face, he picked up his phone and called his wife again. He had tried to call and text her earlier but she hadn’t picked up.

“Hello?” Y/N answered, sounding frazzled and irritated as she cleaned up after her rude customer. He just had the audacity to leave a mess after complaining and whining about the wifi three times. She could barely keep her eyes from rolling. 

“Hey, babe. Where are you? I’ve been waiting for you at the restaurant,” Bucky’s defeated voice on the other line replied. 

“Oh shit!” She shrieked, attracting the heads of the other customers as she glanced at the clock on the wall. She had lost track of time. Bucky had been waiting for her for almost an hour. On their anniversary. Oh crap, crap, crap. 

“Oh my god, baby. I’m so sorry! I’m understaffed and I lost track of time! Could you please wait for me? I’m so sorry!” She quickly took off her apron and changed into the dress she had brought with her that morning for their date. Bucky had been planning this. He arranged for Lizzie’s babysitter and everything, practically bouncing off with excitement for this night. He wanted to try out this new restaurant and between raising Lizzie and making sure Winter Bakery was still making a profit, they haven���t seen much of each other lately. She just couldn’t find the time whereas Bucky’s stable position in Shield gave him more authority to delegate. And he literally had been trained for this for years. All those late-nighters at the university and all the grunt work he and Steve went through have finally paid up. They were at the top of their game, one of the youngest to acquire their positions. They were heroes in the investment banking world. Life was easy for him now, cherry on top of the cake. He only wished Y/N could be there with him. But she was still on shaky ground with her business and he fully understood that. 

“Of course! I already picked our appetizers though. They were trying their best to kick me out gently if I didn’t order anything,” 

“Oh, my poor Bucky. You should’ve flashed them your smile, charmed your way. They would’ve made you stay,” she replied, fixing her ponytail, not having the time to retouch her makeup anymore. This’ll just have to do. 

“Really, now. It was a waitress, you know.” He teased back. 

A beat before Y/N replied in mock seriousness. “In that case, don’t you dare. I’ll be there in 15!” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it. See you, babe. I love you--,” 

But before he could even finish his sentence, the line had dropped on the other end.  

_______________________________________________________________________

1 year ago.

“Daddy, look, apples!” Lizzie pointed from her seat in the grocery cart. Her legs swinging as she giggled at the heap of apples on their side. “Yeah, baby, you’re right.” Bucky replied absentmindedly, not even bothering to look as he stared confusedly at the bunch of green vegetables in front of him. The list Y/N gave him said scallions, but how the hell was he supposed to know which was which? Scallions, spring onions, green onions, they were all the same right? He suddenly regretted volunteering to do their grocery shopping alone, having no clue what half of the list Y/N prepared even meant. It was the weekend, they were all supposed to go together and then have a quick visit to the toy store after, for one more of Lizzie’s birthday gifts. She had just turned 3 a week ago and he couldn’t help but promise to let her pick out another doll. When Y/N had given him a pointed look while Lizzie clung on and gushed to him, he couldn’t help but to just give her a tiny shrug. He grew up with nothing, he was gonna give his little girl everything. But that morning when he thought the three of them finally had time to spend together, Y/N couldn’t make it again. She was having problems with her manager and had to go into work unexpectedly. Now, she wasn’t even answering his calls when he had to ask her about the most complicated grocery list he’s ever seen in his whole life. 

“Daddy, when are we getting my doll?” Lizzie asked again, looking up at him as she clutched her favorite white wolf stuffed toy. 

“After this, sweetheart.” He answered, preoccupied and calling Y/N again. This time when she didn’t answer, he gave up, grabbed the one nearest to him and hoped for the best. 

When he’s gotten halfway through the list and let Lizzie point at the snacks she wanted for school, he let his mind wander, when the hell had they become like this? He barely saw his wife anymore. Her problems with her bakery cafe, always dragging her away from them. He wished she could find competent people who would stay but if it weren’t her manager, it was her baker and so on. And if she was finally free, he’d be the one who was busy. It was hard and annoying but coupled that with taking care of an over-enthusiastic three-year-old, it was also exhausting.

He missed Y/N and he wished he could spend time with her. He completely understood that she was always needed at work. He had been through that in their early 20s, but they didn’t have a kid then to compete for their time and understanding it was different from actually living it. Their marriage had become stagnant. The banality of their everyday life, a stark contrast to how they used to be when they were just a couple of kids off college who rented a too-small apartment with his little sister, Becca. Time has flown and he’s finally achieved the life he’s always wanted; a big duplex apartment, a steady high-income job and a family he had always yearned for but never really knew he needed. All of the things he promised himself when he was younger and had nothing, he had now and more, yet there was still something missing. He missed the thrill of his life, chasing his dreams had always kept him motivated, distracted. Now that he had it all, he was at his wits’ end. Maybe it was because they were also growing apart, he could feel it. Y/N had always been able to make him happy and whole; he had always been able to rely on her emotionally. She was the better part of him and now that she was becoming distant, he hung onto her like a lifeline but his insistence on going on vacations as a family wherever his wife and daughter wanted went unheard, all his attempts at romancing cancelled. 

Even as he lined up now for the cashier, he whipped out his phone to text her. His hands had been busy typing when a brooding, dark-haired man stood behind him dressed in all black. His arms were muscled despite his age and the sagging skin on his right arm holding a tattoo of an odd skull with tentacles extending out of it was barely covered by his shirtsleeve. 

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t little Bucky,” a familiar husky voice mocked from behind him. 

Bucky immediately felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, the voice sending a deep chill down his spine, making him go rigid as he slowly turned around, the blood draining from him when he went face to face with the man who had made his life a living hell, the man who not only broken him physically but in spirit as well. Repeatedly. 

“You some errand boy now? I didn’t raise you to be like that, you know,” He continued to mock, tipping his chin to the cart with Lizzie still on it. 

“Do you know him, daddy?” She asked, holding her little wolf tighter as she watched the stranger warily. 

“Hey there, sweetie. Your daddy didn’t tell you about me? That’s weird. I raised him and your aunt Rebecca a long time ago. My name is Rumlow,” he flashed her a chilling smile, stepping closer to offer his hand. That’s when the fog in Bucky’s brain cleared. He moved with a lightning fast reflex, stepping in between them as he got in Rumlow’s face, fisting his collar harshly in one hand, 

“Don’t you dare go near her,” his dark and low voice had threatened, dripping venom. His eyes had dilated, almost turning black as he shoved him hard. Rumlow’s grating laugh echoed around them, bringing back all those awful memories he had buried deep inside his head. 

“I’ve taught you well, boy. Can’t say I’m not proud,” He clapped and actually smiled at him smugly. At this point, Lizzie had started crying making Bucky even more furious. 

“I don’t ever want to see your face again. And if you go near my daughter again, I’ll make you fucking regret it. Do you understand?” His threats went on deaf ears as Rumlow broke out into a full-fledged grin. 

“I’d love to see you try, James. You’ve grown soft,” He accused, eyeing Lizzie and the grocery he had still lined up, several heads already looking at them. 

“Lucky for you. I have a new son here,” He continued, tilting his head to the boy standing by his mostly empty cart-- save for the beer and the liquor. Bucky flicked his attention to the boy and he felt his world spin as he saw himself in him with his eyes haunted, wary and afraid. He couldn’t have been older than eight. Rumlow smirked at the look on Bucky’s face, already detecting the turmoil brewing inside him. He had succeeded. He always knew Bucky was weak, his emotions his downfall. The fear and guilt clearly written in Bucky’s eyes made Rumlow gloat as he talked to the boy, 

“What did I say, Bert, huh? You’ll only have food if you go get it yourself. Why are you still standing there?” 

The boy looked around the big grocery store, mentally taking note of the stalls and where they were currently at, memorizing it in case he got lost but still, he didn’t move. Bucky looked at Rumlow and he saw the same look he’d always had directed at him before, his taunting eyes daring the boy to go or face the consequences. 

“But I’m scared,” the boy replied, his voice small and frightened. Rumlow moved to him, bending his knees to get to his eye level. “Well then, you just won’t have to eat,” he told him in a hushed voice, pouting and mocking. 

Bucky didn’t have to hear it to know the exact words, buried memories rushing back to the surface. He heard it countless times directed at him. The boy ran to the nearest stall, his heart pounding and hoping Rumlow would still be at that same spot when he came running back. Bucky knew the feeling, it was like he was living it all over again. As much as he wanted to help, he was rooted to the spot, even Lizzie’s crying couldn’t move him. Rumlow stood back up and faced him. “You were always my favorite,” he told him proudly as he pushed his own cart away from them, no doubt to give Bert an even harder chance of finding him. 

Just before he got too far, he swiftly turned around, feigning innocence as he said, “Oh and by the way, say hi to Rebecca for me,”  His lips twisted up into a sneering smirk as he left, whistling without a care in the world. And just like that Bucky was moving, grabbing Lizzie and getting out of that store as fast as he could, hoping Rumlow would stay out of his life forever. 

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

“I’m never letting you do the groceries again!” Y/N screeched, a horrified look on her face as she stared at their fridge. After the incident with Rumlow, Bucky had brought Lizzie to the toy store, allowing her to buy all the stuffed toys and dolls she wanted instead of just the previously promised one doll. They had gone to lunch after, he kept Lizzie distracted as much as possible to forget the man she had just met. When she brought him up again, he told her it was just a friend he didn’t like very much and that she shouldn’t bring it up to her mom because it was nothing, he promised he never had to see that man again. Lizzie seemed satisfied with his answer and went back to her usual chirpy self. On their way home, they passed by another grocery store. He had mindlessly strolled the aisles and grabbed whatever he thought they needed, his head at a different place, much as it still is now.

“Bucky, we don’t need four cartons of milk, why would you even get this?” Y/N asked incredulously, shaking her head as she chuckled. 

Bucky had been staring off into space, not hearing what his wife had been saying. “Uhm, hello Bucky, you still with me?” she teased, waving a hand in front of his face. 

“Oh sorry, what was that?” He asked, glancing up at her from his perch by the kitchen counter. The coffee he had brewed, now cold in his hands. 

“Hey, you okay?” she asked, looking at him with concern in her eyes. 

“Yeah, just didn’t sleep well,” he waved dismissively. Y/N felt a pang of guilt. He’d been bugging her to spend more time together, planning outings and dates that she never seemed to find time for. 

“Well, I finally have the day free. Why don’t we go out, watch a movie or have a picnic? It’ll be fun,” she suggested, draping a hand over his shoulder while her chin rested on the other, her elbow propped up on the countertop to keep an eye level with him. 

“I can’t, I’m sorry, babe. I promised to meet up with Thor,” he moved away from her touch, standing up. Y/N looked at him confusedly, “Okay, how about after?”

“Gotta go over some accounts with Sam, sorry love. I’ll be back before dinner,” He gave her a quick kiss to the cheek before heading out. Y/N stared after him, brows knitted, before shrugging. She’ll just get her errands around the house done then. 

After pounding the punching bag in Thor’s gym incessantly, Bucky found himself aimlessly walking around the streets, he just needed to clear his head. The little boy’s face was still etched in his mind as he opened the door to a bar. A little too early, he knew but he couldn’t shake off the nagging thought plaguing his mind. 

How could he have let that monster roam free while he had lived his life without even a glance back? 

_______________________________________________________________________

Years ago.

Bucky held Becca’s hand as they ascended the rickety steps of their new home. They had just lost their parents and were now moving into an unfamiliar house. The case worker had told them they were lucky not to be separated and that they shouldn’t worry; they were getting a good foster father who would take care of them from now on. 

“I had interviewed him myself, you see,” She told the children, beaming with pride. 

“I couldn’t have found a better one for you guys, why, this area is still very close to where you grew up in. You could still visit your old haunts,” She ruffled Becca’s hair, trying to lighten the mood while the little girl just moved farther away, hiding behind her big brother. The worn-out door which at once might have been painted pristine white but now had chippings hanging off of it suddenly opened with a creak, a man with a charming and easy nature stepped out with a warm smile on his face that didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“You guys are here! Welcome, welcome, please come in!” He gestured humbly to his house. Becca squeezed Bucky’s hand tighter which he squeezed back in return, reassuring her. There was something about this man that wasn’t quite right. He seemed relaxed and easy-going, a smile continuously plastered on his face but there was a lethality to him that the children couldn’t seem to shake off, almost as if it was buried deep inside waiting to be unleashed. The case worker hung on his every word, giggling as they talked. She slapped his arm with the horrible looking tattoo that gave Becca a fright. The children barely moved from the sofa they were seated at after the introductions. 

“It’s usually like this. Don’t worry. They start to open up after a while,” the case worker sympathized with Brock, the man who introduced himself as their new foster father; he would treat them as his own, he had promised. 

“It’s alright. I understand. After my wife, I’ve been all alone and this, this is a blessing to me,” He told her as he turned to the children. Her hand strayed to his arm again and lingered there. 

“Oh, Brock, you are a good man. They’re great children, they won’t give you trouble.” She replied, patting his arm for reassurance. It didn’t miss Bucky how she hung off his every word. 

“But I should get going, I will check up on you in a week. Children, be good. You have my number if you need anything,” She stood up, smoothing the wrinkles on her blazer.

“Wait, you’re leaving us already?” Bucky couldn’t help the whine that escaped his voice. He didn’t miss the darkness that spilled over Brock’s face for a split second before he carefully put his smile back on again. 

“I’ll be back in a week, Bucky. Don’t you worry,” the case worker smiled before she walked out the door leaving him and Becca to a stranger. 

When she was out of sight, Brock had suddenly changed his demeanor. The smile on his face had turned into a scowl when he faced them. “Alright, listen up both of you,”  he boomed, his voice cruel. “Grab your things and get on to your rooms. I don’t want to hear any noise. No running around, and if I see you making a mess. You bet your little asses, you’ll pay for it,” He stood up and left them to their bags. 

“But Mr. Brock, I’m thirsty,” Becca piped up, looking up at him timidly. The man’s grating laugh rumbled as he threw his head back, shaking it.  

“That’s Rumlow to both of you, you hear me?  Don’t make that mistake again. Now, come here,” He said, beckoning both the children to come over. Once they reached the kitchen, he pointed to the high cupboard. “You see that?” He asked Becca, dropping low to get to her eye level. When she just nodded her head, he continued, “That’s where the glasses and the plates are. If you want something in this house, you go get it yourself. I’m not your nanny,” He held Becca’s face in his hand roughly. His fingers wrapped around her cheeks tight as he held her by the chin. Bucky felt his fists clench at his sides, pushing Rumlow as far as he could with his eleven year old might.  

“Stop that!” He screamed. Their parents never hurt them. How dare this man think he could do this to his little sister? 

“Oh you wanna be the man of the house?” Rumlow jeered, shoving Bucky back making him fall to the floor. Becca’s sniffles grew louder as she tried to stop her crying, her shoulders shaking from her effort. As Bucky lay sprawled, Rumlow scooted down menacingly to him, 

“You dare push me when you were just whining like a little bitch a while ago, you wanna man up? Alright, I’ll allow it,” he taunted, pondering it for a moment before his sinister smile came back on. “Let’s see how long you’ll last protecting your little sister.” He gripped his face by the chin, fingers squeezing exceedingly tight on his cheeks before he pushed him off and he hit the floor. 

“I won’t be some parent to you that you could twist around your little fingers, no. I’ll make you into the best man you could be. I will teach you about order. And order only comes through pain,” He drilled into him like a soldier as he stretched his legs back up, his measured steps going to the fridge to fish out a beer. He took a long gulp before he continued, 

“And the sooner you learned that, the better,” 

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

Bucky sat alone at one of the benches by the field at his school, choosing solitude over the roar of the cafeteria after a particularly bad morning at home. Their foster father had woken up drunk and had haphazardly thrown things at them when Bucky accidentally burnt the eggs he had been cooking for his and Becca’s packed lunch for school. He picked on the peanut butter sandwich he prepared, not having the appetite to eat when he heard jeering voices from a group of boys and sounds of flesh being hit again and again with accompanying grunts of pain. He felt his feet move on instinct when he found them by the bleachers, a scrawny boy at the center of a group huddling over him, they were laughing as he tried to fight them off, not once being able to land a punch. The blood pumped in Bucky’s veins, a constant beating in his ears, as he grabbed the biggest of the bullies by the collar and harshly yanked him off the tiny, blonde boy now sprawled on the floor with his skinny arms covering his face. When one of the other kids tried to punch him, he deftly moved out of the way and delivered a swift blow to his stomach, making sure to spare his face so as not to get in trouble. That was how Rumlow did it, might as well use the same trick right? 

“What? Who wants to go next?” He threatened, loving the adrenaline coursing through his veins, the power he had with defending someone so helpless. The lanky blonde boy stood up beside him, blood dripping from his mouth as he held both his fists up, “I can do this all day,” he said, catching his breath but his stance clearly indicated he could barely stand up straight. Bucky just looked at him weirdly, not knowing whether to find him stupid or brave. The bullies stood against them, unsure. Bucky was the same age as them, only slightly bigger. Him and the blonde boy were still clearly outnumbered but Bucky’s eyes held a lethal strength in them, his body coiled with unleashed brutality, ready to fight. The bullies scrambled out of there as fast as they could, their feet tripping over them. 

“Yeah next time, pick on someone your own size!” he hollered before looking back at the blonde boy who looked younger than them but held himself with such maturity that it didn’t seem possible. He decided right then and there he was going to make him his new friend. Rumlow had always taught him about his belief of the natural order of the world, that strength and might always won the day and that order could only be achieved through pain. If you could inflict it on others, you were stronger, better. Weaker men were useless, had to be beaten up and put in their place. “That’s just the way of the world,” he had said. But Bucky was old and smart enough to see right through his facade. He was a bully, feeding off of people who couldn’t fight back. Bucky was going to be different, he wouldn’t bow down to his will. He just needed to protect his sister, spare her from the taint of Rumlow’s anger and prove that he wouldn't become the man Rumlow has been conditioning him to be. 

“You alright?” Bucky asked the boy standing beside him who was touching the bruise forming on his forehead.

“Yeah, thanks for helping me,” he replied sheepishly, ashamed he couldn’t fight for himself.

“Next time, just don’t provoke them, they aren’t worth it.” 

“But they were wrong. Bullies, I’d always stand up to them,” the blonde brushed his hair back from his forehead, determination steeling his voice. Bucky smiled, maybe he could learn a thing or two from this boy too. 

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Steve, what’s yours?”

“Bucky. Steve, you’re a little punk. You know that?” he said teasingly, laughing. 

Steve grinned back, “Jerk,” 

_______________________________________________________________________

Present

The light filtered into the room as the curtains were drawn back harshly causing Bucky to groan on his bed, flitting a pillow to cover his eyes. 

“Buck, come on. Get up,” Steve’s firm voice spoke through the fog in his mind. 

“Get out, Steve, I’m sleeping.” he replied, turning his back to the hand shaking his shoulder.

“How long are you going to do this? It’s been two weeks. Have you even talked to your family yet?” Steve’s judgmental voice rang out, hard and unforgiving. 

“She doesn’t even wanna see me,” he huffed, anger at himself boiling in his veins. He hasn’t seen his daughter in two weeks. Y/N’s short, cold replies to his messages were just updates on how Lizzie was doing, anything regarding Y/N, he had no idea about. He didn’t even know what sort of excuses she made up for Lizzie, how his “work trip” kept getting extended. When the hell could they keep that charade up? He was lucky enough she was letting him talk to his daughter on the phone for a few minutes every once in a while. He sat up on the bed, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he reached for the bottle of whiskey at the bedside table. These days he could only fall asleep when he’s had one too many to drink and even then, he’d still wake up with a headache that could only be dulled by alcohol. He barely even made it to work everyday. Sam had been good enough to cover for him, staying on neutral ground with everything that’s happening to his marriage although his eyes said otherwise, disappointment etched in them. All the while Steve had ignored him the entire time since the hospital. No amount of apologies moved him from his stance except today, when he suddenly barged into the hotel room Bucky has been renting like he owned the place. 

“Jesus, Bucky, stop that!” He swiped the bottle Bucky held between his lips, splashing amber liquid on his shirt and bed. 

“Damn it, Steve! Look what you did!  Give that back,” Bucky held his arm out, his reflexes slow as he tried to grab it from his friend. 

“Jesus Christ. You smell terrible. How much have you had to drink last night?” Steve fanned the air around him trying to rid the stench of alcohol and sweat.

“How the hell did you even get in here?” Bucky’s pissed off voice grumbled but one look at Steve’s intense stare with his brows furrowed and his jaw clenched, standing straight as a drill sergeant, arms crossed at his chest with his muscles bulging out of his fitted gray Under Armour shirt; he knew. The punk had intimidated his way in. No doubt leaving a poor breathless, flustered receptionist in his wake. 

“You could get that receptionist fired, you know?” He tried appealing to his best friend’s better nature.

“You wouldn’t tell. Plus, it isn’t as if she didn’t get a hefty tip. Go take a shower, Buck, you stink.” Steve didn’t budge, staring him down with a disgusted look on his face. Bucky just scoffed, 

“And then what? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Y/N kicked me out, man. Just go home, you’re wasting your time.” 

Steve’s hardened face softened as he looked at his friend. His eyes were puffy, his skin pale as he scratched his wildly unkempt beard, his greasy hair sticking out on one side. What the hell had happened to Bucky? How had it gone so bad for his friend in a matter of days? He suddenly moved out of instinct, collecting clothes strewn everywhere and packed them into the suitcase at the corner of the room. 

“Steve, what the hell are you doing?” Bucky exhaled loudly. It was too early for this. Where the hell was his drink? 

“Get your ass moving, Bucky. You’re staying at my place,”

[rodeoxqueen]

SMELLS LIKE QUARAN-NEROKIRI SPIRIT 

Nero/Kyrie

“In quarantine, Nero and Kyrie spend time together.” 

Rodeo’s Two Pieces: 

First time writing for Nero/Kyrie. Tread lightly with my take of their dynamic. 

(I)- Dalgona Coffee and Cookies. 

Despite how everything was shut down and the grocery was found vacant of basic necessities, Nero was grateful to at least be with someone he loved the most. 

“Look, we probably need some time off from kickin’ demon ass anyways,” Nico explained, smoking a cigarette during the video chat. 

“Yeah, not like demons care about being six feet away. People don’t even do that.” Nero looked at himself in the little square in the corner of his phone. Clad in a grey hoodie, he hadn’t even bothered putting on anything over his boxers. No one had come to visit since the mandate to stay inside, what was the point? 

Nico was in her garage again, from what he could see in the camera view. Cigarettes and old cups of coffee littered her desk, warbled country music playing off-view. 

“Who knows, maybe I’ll make something to fix that. I was thinking a mask-gun, rapid-fire reloading.” 

“Artisan of Arms, huh?” Nero laughed, getting up from his bed. 

“You fuckin’ bet. Now I gotta go. Got some things to weld.” 

“See ya, Nico. Stay safe, alright?” 

“Yeah, yeah.” He gave a peace sign before pressing “end video call.” 

The video chat ended and Nero tucked his phone into his pocket. Even banter just wasn’t the same virtually. 

“Who was that? Nico?” Nero made it down the hallway to see Kyrie, bustling about getting things from the cupboards. 

“Yeah, still building stuff as usual.” 

Kyrie had been in their apartment’s kitchen, deciding to try her hand at some recipes she saw online. A bag of flour, too many bowls, and more chocolate than Nero remembered buying, all laid out on the table. 

Just when he wanted something to eat, he’d have to wait or his girlfriend would practically make enough to feed an army and be surprised when he didn’t want anymore. 

He opted for a cup of water instead. 

Nero admired her hair, how it looked when it wasn’t in a ponytail, how it sat perfectly on her shoulders. Seeing how she started to measure some ingredients, he took the hair tie on his wrist, careful fingers bringing it into a low ponytail. 

“Oh, thank you.” She commented, opening her booklet of recipes she had handwritten. Neat, slanted cursive in a smattering of blue, red, and black read out recipes for cookies, cakes, and bread. 

“You look busy, planning to make all of those?” Nero rested his chin on her shoulder, shrouding her with warmth. 

“Well, I don’t know how long we’re going to be stuck at home, might as well try some recipes out. Maybe we can deliver some to the orphanage.” 

“That is if I don’t eat all your prototypes first.” She laughed, birdsong to Nero’s ears. 

“As long as you help me I don’t mind if you do.” Kyrie handed him a measuring cup. Nero sighed, taking it. He always lost count of how many cups of flour he was supposed to put in the bowl. 

A jar of porous dough caught his eye as he sifted some baking soda in his white mixture. He took it from Kyrie’s side of the island. 

“Whoa, what is this? A science experiment?” Kyrie chuckled, watching Nero scrutinize the date on the white tape to the top of the mason jar. 

“No, it’s a sourdough starter! It’s basically wild yeast. We can make bread with it since people bought out all the dry yeast in the grocery store.” 

Nero shook it with curiosity and then opened the silver lid, making an “eh” face at the smell. 

“It’s yeast alright.” 

Kyrie continued whipping up the sugar and butter mixture, Nero helping himself to a handful of chocolate chips. 

“Have you talked to your uncle and father? They must be staying at the shop in Redgrave.” 

Nero shrugged. 

“Most likely, I haven’t talked to them yet. Dante probably didn’t pay the phone bill and Vergil doesn’t know how to use the phone anyways.” 

“Let’s just hope they’re getting along during this time.” 

Nero thought back to all the “family outings” he had since his uncle and father returned from hell, mostly just jobs becoming contests of strength that turned to friendly family fights. Endless banter and elbowing. 

Honestly, compared to that, standing next to his girlfriend while they shaped cookies for the oven was heaven. 

Once the chocolate chip cookie dough was done baking, Kyrie insisted they make some whipped coffee while they cooled.  

“I thought you didn’t like coffee, Kyrie.” She stooped down to find something in the lower cabinets. A robotic hand that was colored dark blue and black, his old Devil Bringer, appeared with a tiny whisk duct-taped to it. 

“Yeah, but that TikTok made it look so good.” Nero handed her the glass container of instant coffee. 

Turning on the Devil Bringer, the tiny whisk spun to life, rapidly mixing sugar, coffee, and water together. With her back turned, Nero popped a thing of cookie dough in his mouth. 

“Honestly, Nico should have patented these Devil Bringers, make a bunch of money, and maybe she’d stop trying to rip me off all those times.” 

“Support local businesses, Nero.” 

He looked over her shoulder, surprised at how an abysmal brown mixture had become fluffy and thrice its previous volume. 

Two cups of milk poured, the practically instantly whipped coffee laid on top like a decadent Mount Everest next to a still-warm plate of cookies. 

“Cheers!” Kyrie clinked glasses with him, stirring her mug vigorously with a spoon. He copied her, taking a sip of surprisingly light and sweet coffee. 

When he lowered his cup, Nero both revealed to the world a mustache of whipped coffee. 

Kyrie snorted into her cup, covering her mouth as she bit back a laugh. Embarrassed, Nero went to wipe it off when Kyrie pecked him on the lips. She drew back to reveal an imprint of the ‘stache on her own upper lip. 

“We match now.” Kyrie giggled, helping herself to another gooey cookie. 

Half a plate of cookies and two mugs properly drained of its contents, Kyrie and Nero loaded up the dishwasher to do the work. 

“This is coffee, why am I tired?” Kyrie yawned. 

The couch was this god-awful IKEA purchase that took hours for Nero to just figure out what the instructions meant. But right now, it perfectly supported both of them while they slept away their food coma. 

(II)- Curl Up And Dye. 

After the second time the mandate got lengthened, Nero could sense that Kyrie was starting to wane in her ever-positive attitude. The news had nothing good to say, and the number of shows they had binged left them indifferent to watching anything more. 

They did a lot of singing during quarantine, Kyrie always being the musical one. Evanescence was one of their favorites to sing together, Nero’s guitar skills and Kyrie’s ability to hit those high notes left many memorable nights of laughter. 

After a while, Kyrie began to just sit on the couch a lot and have Nero pay her company. 

“What’s wrong?” Kyrie sighed heavily, curling into Nero’s hoodie as he opted to stay shirtless. 

“I don’t know Nero, it just feels like everything is the same. We go through the same things every day and I just feel...trapped.” 

Nero kissed the nape of her neck, humming in agreement. 

“Look, I’m usually the one going to you for stuff like this but...it will get better. It’s been a really hard time for all of us, and we’re just watching everything go downhill. It’s not a good situation but, you got me. Always. And there’s still a lot of things we can change up if that helps.” He stroked her hair and rubbed her back, feeling her take a deep breath. 

“You’re right Nero. That really did help. Thank you for listening.” 

“Of course.” 

While he scrolled on his own phone, he didn’t heed all the things Kyrie was watching. She touched her own long hair, seeing the way other people recorded their own home-salon trims. 

“Things to change, huh?” She mumbled. 

So here they were now. 

“It looks so bad!” Kyrie exclaimed, her face in her hands, hair on the bathroom sink. Nero shook his head. 

“No it’s not, Kyrie! You look fine, just let me fix it!” In the mirror, Nero cringed at the way her hair was ridiculously over-layered. 

“Um, what did you try to do-” 

“Curtain bangs! Oh Nero, I shouldn’t have tried to change up my hair!” Kyrie was thoroughly upset, seeing how her bout of bravery lead to her bangs being mauled by her own hands. 

Nero hugged her, noting that she had been wearing his shirt while she trimmed her hair. 

Okay that shirt’s gonna itch for a while until all the hair comes out. 

“It’s okay, let me see if I can fix it.” Kyrie blushed in the mirror, groaning at how bad her hair was cut. 

“There’s no way you could make it worse than what I did.” 

Nero gingerly took the scissors Kyrie put in the sink, a little bit too small for his hands but good enough. Although he was no stylist, he could tell where Kyrie had either cut too much off or unevenly. 

Eventually, they did manage to cut it in a way that hid the previous mistakes. Kyrie took another deep breath. 

“I shouldn’t have been so impulsive.” She murmured, arms crossed. 

Nero chuckled at her rare emotional outburst. He was glad to have been able to be there for her. She always hid how she felt, helping others her way of expressing herself. Now with no one around but him, he totally understood that she felt helpless. 

No one liked being helpless. 

He kissed her cheek and a lightbulb went off in his head. 

“You wanna dye my hair?” Kyrie turned around in surprise. 

“What?” 

“I mean, who knows how long this shutdown is gonna be, it’ll be fun,” Kyrie noted how Nero had forgone shaving, his peach fuzz becoming something more. 

Honest blue eyes peered at her, wondering what she would think. Her surprise softened to a sort of relief in their solidarity. 

“What color, Nero?” 

“Neon green-” 

“Nico’s going to make fun of you.” Kyrie giggled. Nero shrugged nonchalantly. 

“I don’t mind it.” 

(III)- Can’t Get Out Of It, Get Into It. 

“Nero, you look so fucking ridiculous.” 

“Shut up, Dante.” 

His uncle finally managed to figure out how to work the virtual chat on his fossil of a computer, and Nero was already prepared to end the call. 

His father sat slightly off-camera, not in the mood to entertain Dante’s antics to ridicule his son. Although, he did look oddly radioactive with his washed-out green hair and strong quarter-past five o’clock shadow.  

“Quarantine did not do you a favor, good lord,” Dante commented, kicking his feet up on his desk. Nero flipped him off. 

“Good to know you’re still living in shambles, not surprised neither of you cleaned up after yourselves.” The number of bottles on the floor was a travesty and the couch littered with poetry books Vergil had slowly begun to hoard. 

Nico entered the zoom call, smoking another cigarette Nero was lucky to not have to smell. 

“Nice broccoli head.” 

Nero flipped her off as well. Kyrie came into view, smiling at her boyfriend’s family and their shared friends. Nero decided to get a drink, clicking a few buttons before letting Kyrie have the seat. 

As they discussed how the business would continue with Devil May Cry, Kyrie sat next to Nero. 

It was mainly business, until it got to a certain line that Dante said. 

“I don’t know, it just feels like things are just going to keep staying like this. Hate to break it to you Nero, but it’s going to be tough for a while.” 

Kyrie finally heard enough, scooching Nero aside so she could talk. 

“Kyrie, wait-” 

“We’re going to get past this. As long as humanity still keeps coming together for the sake of benefiting each other, and we keep working to make sure to keep safe, we will get past this. We just have to keep hoping, and sure, hoping isn’t always going to make you feel better. I would know. But in a time where we do feel helpless, we should connect with other people in a different way. That’s why we succeed, we keep moving, we keep adapting! And hope, hope keeps that going.” 

Kyrie took a long breath. Looking at the dumbfounded group, she waited for a response. 

“Um, Kyrie. You were muted.” Nero finally said. Kyrie realized her blunder and how Nero’s hand was attempting to unmute them. 

“Oh.” Kyrie flushed, looking embarrassed. 

“I have no idea what you just said, but that’s okay.” 

“I’m sorry, that was so awkward.” 

“Don’t worry yourself, Kyrie. I bet it was real sweet whatever you had to say,” Nico assured. 

The zoom call was full of laughter since, a business call turned to a time to discuss how each person was doing. 

Dante and Vergil had spent days and nights sparring, Vergil learning more about humanity from Dante, and “making their own pizzas.” 

Nico had continued welding and making weapons for her own curiosity rather than based off of commission-based instructions. The van finally had the vinyl player fixed and she apparently gave herself a stick-and-poke. 

“So what did you two love birds do?” Nico asked, lighting another cancer stick. 

Nero and Kyrie looked at each other, smiling at their shared memories of this strange period in human history. 

“Where do we even start?”  Kyrie said, thinking of all the days and nights that seemed to breeze by and also slowly progress. 

Nero ruffled his longer messy green hair, Kyrie tucking her curtain bangs behind her ear. As they were two peas in the pod, Nero had decided to get another set of gray sweats for Kyrie, matching finally. 

Kyrie bit into a cookie, offering Nero some. 

“Smells like quarantine spirit, huh?” Dante finger-gunned.

Nero chuckled. 

“Hell yeah.” 

[sunflowerstache]

Lifespan

A/N: Hello! This is very different from most of my writing, not only because its an OC, but because the storyline is just something out of my comfort zone. But I really hope you enjoy it(: I got the inspiration from a ad I saw on Facebook a long time ago lmao but yeah, come say hi once you’ve read it and tell me what you think! It’s much appreciated! I love you all so very much! Also hugeeeee shoutout to @devil-in-bw-the-sheets​ for spending like six months reading and re-reading this every single time I rewrote it and changed things and encouraging me each time! And @emotionally-imbruised​ for beta reading it for me!💛💛

Word Count: 7.3k

“Doll?”

The fog that seemed to have settled over your mind instantly melted away upon hearing the barista’s voice, her sweet drawl grounding your focus back on her. She was an older woman, probably nearing her sixties based on the collection of grey hairs scattered throughout her small ponytail. But still so incredibly full of life. She had red glasses perched atop her nose - which perfectly completed the red polka dots covering her black dress - a beaded chain dangling from the end to the front of the frame, a pair of silver peace sign studs resided in her ears, and the anatomically correct symbol for caffeine dangled in necklace form on her chest.

“What? I’m sorry.”

“Just asked if you wanted the cream on that.” She smiled, thin lines spreading out and away from the sides of her eyes as her mouth widened. Upon glancing down quickly, you took notice of her clearly hand drawn name tag filled with swirling letters - different then when you stopped by earlier in the week when she had used stickers to spell out “Rita”.

“Oh, um yeah sure. Why not.”

“My husband always says that during weather like this, the calories don’t count. That they disappear with your shivering. Can I just have your name, dear?”

“Georgie. And your husband sounds like a very smart man.”

“Oh, he is.” A dreamy look took over Rita’s features, like just thinking about the man made her heart race. “Been together for forty-two years and he still teaches me new things.”

Your heart ached with each word; the fog slowly started to creep back through your mind while you watched her grin fondly. The hope and excitement for the future that was always so very clear in people’s eyes was what made it so hard not to explain everything you knew, every secret you held. However, as much as you wanted to urge everyone to live the life they’ve always wanted, you knew there was a natural balance to life, and opening your mouth would undoubtedly throw that balance off. So instead, you grinned and nodded your head.

“He sounds wonderful.”

“My best friend. Counting down the minutes until the end of my shift. We’re heading up to see our grandbabies for the week.” It was like she knew exactly what kind of secret you were keeping and made sure to hit you where it hurt each time she opened her mouth. As if her being impossibly sweet didn’t hurt enough.

“That sounds nice.” Digging around in your bag for your wallet made it much easier not to focus on the ticking time bomb in front of you. “How much do I owe you?”

“Oh my! I’m sorry, I know I can’t talk forever if no one stops me.” her laugh was soft, inviting, one you would love to listen to while storytelling. “It’s four pounds.”

“You can keep the change.” You said when handing her some cash, but stopped yourself before you turned to walk away. Even if you weren’t ever going to outright explain anything to anyone, slipping in tiny, reassuring comments made you feel at least a little better before parting ways. “Have an amazing night with your family Rita.”

The coffee shop was relatively empty at the hours you stopped by. Other than the same group of men that were there every morning, chatting over the newspaper and a black coffee and a young nurse who was just getting off of her night shift, only customers on their way to work stopped by. But that was just how you preferred it. It was much easier to avoid running into people when the sun had barely just peeked over the morning horizon. You suppose the city isn’t exactly the best place to reside when you’re on a mission not to get close to anyone, but you’d much preferred the hustle and bustle of the city than the silence of the countryside. At least here you were able to escape your thoughts when they got to be too much, out there you were left to drown in the weights you held.

Rita was right when she said the weather would bring shivering. The moment you stepped through the café doors, all sense of warmth you previously had was sucked out of you, leaving the tips of your fingers tingling against the warm cup. You hadn’t ever really gotten to know the woman behind the counter, a few kind greetings every now and again, but she seemed to be someone who brought a lot of joy to those around her. And she always put extra chocolate curls on your drink. You made a mental note to send some flowers to her family within the coming days.

It was a car horn that initially took your attention off of the pavement, turning to look for who was in such a rush at 5:30am, but the hard torso smacking into her shoulder is what brought your attention back. Followed by the searing heat of your hot chocolate spilling down your front.

“Oh fuck!” you yelled, immediately dropping the paper cup and trying to pull your shirt away from your body to decrease the chance of a burn. There goes your chance to get home and drive right to work without any issue.

“Oh my god! Oh shit!” the man that had ran into you gasped, stopping in his tracks and grabbing onto your elbow to steady your wild movements.

Even though his words were quite loud on the empty street, his voice was still husky, almost like he wasn’t awake yet and still had some left over sleep in his throat. And when you turned to look at who had ruined your shirt, your own voice got stuck in your throat. He was tall, which made sense considering your head had bounced right off of his chest. He was wearing black basketball shorts with tall white socks and a light grey hoodie, which was pulled up to cover the dark grey beanie resting on his head. With one hand he was holding a water bottle with ease, while the other was frantically pulling the airpod from his ear. But apart from his sheer stature, you couldn’t ignore how beautiful this man was. How even the worry lines littering his face were perfectly accenting his features. Or how the green of his eyes seemed to sparkle in the dim light of the Whole Foods you had been stopped in front of.

“I’m so sorry! Shit are you okay?” he quickly asked, shaking his head before you could even respond. “Obviously not, that was probably hot. Oh god I’m so sorry!”

Finally getting your bearings back, you couldn’t help but nod. “Yeah it was pretty hot.”

“Shit, I don’t even know how that happened. I must’ve taken my eyes off the pavement for one second. I’m so sorry.”

“So you’ve said.” You chuckled, bending down to pick up your now empty cup at your feet and tossing it in the bin by your side. “Don’t worry about it. Really it’s fine.”

“It’s not, I’ve ruined your shirt.” If the disappointment in his voice wasn’t evident enough, the small pout on his lips definitely was. He looked absolutely distraught at the sight of what he’d done. “Let me at least get you a new drink. It’s the least I could do.”

“Oh, um, that’s alright.” You’d always known it was rude to speak to someone and not give them eye contact, it was something your father had drilled into you as a child, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Looking someone in the eyes meant seeing above their head, and that was an area you actively tried to avoid looking. But there was something about him that drew you in, and you couldn’t help glancing up at him quickly again. “I actually have to be getting to work. Thanks though.”

“Are you sure? I feel terrible.”

“Positive. Have a good morning.” Your touch was soft on his arm as you made your way past him, leaving the mystery man standing on the pavement staring as you walked towards your flat.

You didn’t mean to be so short with him, but it’s just how you’d grown accustomed to living life. It was the easiest way you found not to get close to many people, which meant less hurt in the end. And you’d been around enough hurt in your short twenty three years. It may be a lonely life, but you were happy with your cat, comically named Lucifer, and living a simple life. Sure, there were times you wished you could live the carefree life everyone around you got to experience, your only issues being stresses of work or relationship drama, but that wasn’t who you were. After living the life you did, there’d be no way you could live a normal life.

“Don’t give me that look, Luci.” you grumbled when walking through your front door, your cat perched on the dining table just watching as you moved through the living room, ripping your destroyed shirt from your body. “This wasn’t my fault.”

You’re sure that you looked like a crazy person if anyone was watching on, talking to your cat while walking around your flat in nothing but a pair of black slacks and a bra. But you didn’t care, because this was your normal. You ranted to her after a long day at work or a particularly draining day, and she always sat and listened. Mostly because she was a cat.

“He just ran right into me, like he literally couldn’t see me. How odd, right?” you stopped briefly while searching your closet for a new shirt. “God Luci, he was cute though. So cute. And tall.”

Just because you secluded yourself in the world didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy taking a peak at what it had to offer. It was the forming relationships that put you off, not because there was a level of uncertainty - nothing was uncertain to you - but because you always knew the timeline of said relationships. It was always the same. So why put yourself through it? But also, why not? What if that was just what you needed to make such a painful existence a little more bearable?

“I didn’t even get his name. Maybe I’ll see him around the cafe sometime.” you hummed, throwing the new peach colored blouse over your head and peeking your face out of the hole. “No. No Georgie, don’t go there. Who are we kidding, it’s not like anything could ever happen anyway.”

Lucifer meows loudly at your comment., making you turn around to glare at her. Obviously she didn’t know what was actually going on, but it was nice to entertain the idea of someone listening to your problems and helping you talk them out. You were a secluded young woman, not crazy.

“What? Like I’m wrong? It’s not something I’d be able to keep from a boyfriend forever. And It’s not like I’d be able to just flat out tell them.”

She meowed again, jumping off the table and prancing her way to your feet, rubbing her side against your ankles.

“What would I even say? Hey, I was born with this thing where I can see a floating clock above everyone’s head that literally counts down to the day you die? Yeah because that won’t get me sent to the looney bin.”

From the start of time, there has always been a beginning and an end to everything. No matter if it was an Oscar award winning film, delicate relationships, or even life itself, it all ended. People come, and they go, but the world continues on; taking care of those who stay to see another day. And on a daily basis, the idea of the end rarely floats through anyone’s mind. Except for you.

For you, it was impossible not to think about when it was quite literally staring you in the face. For as long as you could remember, you walked through life with a different outlook on the end than most other people.It wasn’t because you had some near death experience, but due to a gift. Or at least what some people in the world would consider a gift, because in no way would you call being able to see the exact day someone is going to die, a gift.

It was something that over the years you had grown to ignore, trying not to look too far away from people’s eyes and never thinking too hard about the ticking numbers.They weren’t obnoxious or flashy signs hanging above everyone’s heads - like you had seen some films try and depict - but instead, just a simple, faint, white clock just above the tops of everyone’s head, showing each individual’s lifespan. No matter how many hours you sat down and tried to rationalize why you were able to see this, there was never any answer. No one else in your family carried the burden, and because of that, you never mentioned it to anyone in fear of sounding crazy. But you knew you weren’t crazy, not when you prayed night after night for those numbers to disappear or for someone’s clock to be wrong, only to be let down.

You knew you weren’t crazy when you finally saw your favorite florist Don after he spent some time away, and his clock suddenly read 3 years, 20 days, 6 hours, 42 minutes, and 6 seconds instead of the 27 years you had grown used to seeing on him every day before he left. It didn’t take long for you to find out he was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer and treatments had stopped working.

You knew you weren’t crazy when you got to watch Kim’s clock - the very sweet receptionist at your job - begin to slow down the more she adjusted to a healthy lifestyle of eating right and taking care of her body. What was once a ticking time of a measly 21 years adjusted what would be a long and fulfilled 59 years more.

And you knew you weren’t crazy when at only seventeen years old, you watched as your best friend’s clock suddenly dwindled down to zero’s across the board like a slot machine while laying on the bathroom floor of a house party. The drugs in her system being too much for her young body to handle and completely consuming the 72 years she once had left.

You weren’t crazy, you just carried a burden no one should ever have. And because of it, you made sure not to get close to anyone in fear of watching yet another clock strike zero.

So you moved on with your life, forgetting all about the tall man who had spilled your drink and run into your mind, making you think things you hadn’t in so long, and instead, focused solely on getting through your days at work and getting back home. It was an easy routine, one you hadn’t strayed from much since moving to the city six years ago; wake up, feed Luci, get coffee, go to work, go home, shower, watch tv, go to bed. And as happy as you were that life wasn’t so painful these days, boring would be the only word good enough to describe your life.

Until your neighbors moved in.

You were standing in the kitchen, lifting the collar up to your mouth to try and quickly lick the hot sauce off the old, ratty Elton John Tour shirt you were wearing before it left a stain, wearing nothing else but some shorts, a nice pair of cheetah print slippers to cover your chilly toes, and one of the two hundred paper face masks you’d ordered off of Amazon in an attempt to clear your skin, when the loud bang on your front door startled you. Not only did your family not live in town, but your neighbors knew that you weren’t a people person. Ever since you made that very clear to them upon moving in, they hadn’t tried to contact you, so you just assumed whoever it was had gotten the wrong flat number.

But the knocking persisted.

Lucifer’s head had picked up from her lap upon hearing the first knock, now watching as you made our way closer to the front door. “What do I do?” but the only response you received was her head tilting to the right, like she was saying ‘Really? Answer it you idiot.’

You wanted to be angry, you really did, because you were nearly ready to be completely settled in for the night after a terribly long day and you just wanted to watch some bad tv with Luci, but the moment you twisted the door knob and peered into the hallway, any anger you had felt, completely washed away.

“Hey! Sorry, my mates and I-” he abruptly stopped mid sentence once his eyes landed on you, like his train of thought literally face planted into a brick wall. A look of realization flashed across his face quickly, and in a matter of milliseconds, what was once stress turned into a look of excitement. “Hey! It’s you!” he smiled.

“It’s me.” something about him made it very difficult for you not to mirror his smile, but that desire was overpowered by the confusion coursing through your mind.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again! I still feel terrible about what happened, are you sure you were alright? You didn’t burn yourself, did you?” The man was incredible at changing his emotions at the drop of a dime, for now his eyes were laced with concern where excitement had just lived. “Or I guess I should say I didn’t burn you, did I?”

He was much more put together this time, the workout attire you had last seen him in was traded in for a pair of light red slacks that looked to be a crushed velvet material paired with a plain white t-shirt and a pair of black vans. He looked like any university boy you’d see walking the streets, but at the same time, like nothing you had ever seen before. Something about him standing in your doorway brought you a sense of calm, like just his presence was enough to wash away the stresses of your day.

“I mean I can’t say that it felt particularly good, but I didn’t get burned, no.”

“Oh good. That’s good.” he nodded, and you made the mistake of following his hand with your eyes as he lifted it up to his curls to fix the glasses perched on his head. You didn’t want to know, didn’t want to see what kind of fate the universe had in store for him because the peace he had brought to you in the few moments he’d been standing there felt better than anything had in the past few years. But you were never that lucky.

Your eyes quickly casted back down, looking back at the white of his shirt while you cleared your throat. “Did you need something….” you dragged out the end of the word to indicate that you didn’t know what to call him since he hadn’t bothered to mention his name.

“Oh, right. ‘M Harry.”

“Georgie.

“Hello Georgie.” if possible, the grin on his face doubled in size, causing two dimples to appear at the corners and the air in your chest to feel as though it was tightening.

The two of you stood in your doorway without saying anything for another moment before you spoke up; “So did you need something or…”

“Fuck, yeah.” his voice was breathy when he responded, standing up straighter, “My mates and I just saw you come home and we’re in desperate need of a needle and thread. You’ve got one?”

It only took a second for him to realize his words and that surprised look from when you first opened the door was back. His eyes widened and his hands raised in front of him as a way to stop you before you could respond.

“Not in a creepy way! We weren’t like watching you or summat, swear! My mates Niall and Louis just moved in across the hall.” using his thumb he pointed to the open door across the hall where you could see two other guys watching yours and Harry’s interaction. Upon realizing they were spotted, they raised their hands in a small wave. “We heard you come in. Not that we were actively listening! Just - ‘m sorry. I swear we aren’t creeps.”

“Good. Thought I’d have to sic my monster of a dog on you.” you replied, turning to dig through the small table in what could barely be considered an entryway. The table had started out as a place to keep your keys and mail, but like most did, quickly turned into a junk drawer. An abyss to put any and everything only to never see it again.

Harry’s eyes frantically looked behind you like some crazy monster was about to lunge at him for bothering you at night, even going as far as taking a small step back when the door opened a bit wider while you were looking for the tool. You laughed when glancing up quickly at the movement. It was obvious he was panicking at the new information of potentially getting mauled by a massive dog while simply asking for thread. So you put him out of his misery.

“There’s no dog. I’m just joking…”

As if on cue, Lucifer waltzed up to see what was going on at the front door, her small body weaving between your legs to get a nice scratch while checking out the never before seen man. “Oh! A cat! I love cats!”

“Yeah she’s pretty great.” you nodded, closing the drawer and holding your hand out to Harry. “Here you go. Um, not sure what colour you need so you can just take the whole bag.”

“You’re a lifesaver, thank you! Niall has a date in ten minutes and he’s split his only good pair of trousers.” he turned his head to look over his shoulder at the boys inside the other flat, trying to seem like they weren’t listening to the conversation, but very obviously doing just that. “Have to sew him in like ‘m some sort of tailor.” he chuckled, turning back to face you.

“Sounds like an exciting night.”

“Oh riveting. I would ask if you’d like to join but you look very busy-” the corners of his lips were trying hard not to curl upwards with the light sarcasm, wobbling a bit as he continued speaking, “-so I wouldn’t want to interrupt anymore than I already have. I’m sure I’ll see you again, I practically live with these two idiots.”

“‘M sure I will.” Luci hadn’t left your side since joining you at the door, instead, she began meowing quite loudly, so you bent down to scoop her into your arms.

You liked Harry, not only because he was a very obviously a good looking man, but because he seemed to pick up on your social cues fairly quickly. He didn’t linger and try to get as much out of you as possible or make the fact that you clearly didn’t have much interest in talking uncomfortable. And it was the first time in a long time that you felt content being around someone. Not fearing what the future brought.

Harry halted his movements halfway between flats and spun back around quickly. He didn’t say anything at first, just watched you press kisses to Lucifer’s head while standing in the doorway. Something you gathered from the very brief times you’d shared an encounter was that Harry was not very good at hiding his emotions. It was almost like he had no control of his mouth, because you could see him try to stop the smile from spreading, but it was no use. The dimples popped out in full force.

“I still owe you for that coffee.”

“Oh, um not a coffee.”  you tried not to be loud enough for him to hear, noting that the fact that it wasn’t a coffee was not really that important, but he heard you anyway.

“Pardon?”

“Just um, it wasn’t a coffee. More of a hot chocolate drinker actually.”

He didn’t respond right away, instead just continued watching you with fond eyes and a now very prominent smile. You felt as though he could sense how out of touch with relationships you had begun to get over the years. What other explanation could he have for being so soft with someone he had just met and barely even known

“Right, well keep your schedule open so I can take you out for that replacement cocoa.”

Your door swiftly closed the second he turned back around, not leaving any extra seconds for him to turn around and look at you again. And the second she heard the click of the lock, Luci leaped out of your arms and made her way over to the sofa, meowing her entire journey.

“Yes that was him.” another meow. “I told you he was cute, and I also told you nothing would be happening there.”

Harry wasn’t lying when he said you’d be seeing him again. It seemed as though every day when you got back to your flat, he was there. Sometimes on his way out, other times just standing outside the door waiting for the other boys. And despite how at peace being around Harry had made you feel that day he came knocking at your door, you never put in much more effort than a “hello” here and there. He and the others had tried quite a few times to get you to join them on their night out, but each time you came up with a different excuse. Even if they were comforting, what was the point in forming that friendship when you knew you’d just isolate yourself again eventually. You had made it this long without getting too close to anyone else, and you weren’t going to start just because two attractive lads moved in across the hall who happened to have a very fit, very inviting, friend.

It wasn’t until nearly a month later that you actually had a full conversation with Harry again.

Typically you tried not to go to the coffee shop by your flat any later than lunchtime because it just got too busy. There were too many people for you to fully avoid them all and seeing too many clocks dampened your mood significantly. But you had already had a shitty morning and needed something to give you a boost.

The place had felt very melancholy since Rita’s unfortunate passing last month, she’d passed peacefully in her sleep while spending time with her family. You’d sent the family flowers as remembered, and also made sure to drop a few bills in the jar on the counter each time you’d been in the shop. Other employees were setting up a fund for Rita’s family since she was such a loved member of the community just with the joy she brought from behind the counter.

“Just a large hot chocolate for me, please.”

“For here or take away?”

“Take away please.”

“Actually she’ll have that for here, please.” a familiar voice behind you spoke up as you were digging through your bag for your wallet. You could see him out of the corner of your eye move from his spot behind you, to gradually standing next to you, looking directly at the barista behind the counter.

“Um..” you felt bad for the young kid, he couldn’t be any older than eighteen and all he wanted to do was get to work and get out. But here you were making his day more stressful than it needed to be. “So… for here then?”

“Harry I -”

“Come on Georgie. Please.” never in your life had you seen a grown man bat his eyelashes, but here he was, trying to lure you in with his breathtaking green eyes.

“Fine.” your voice came out soft and you rolled your eyes, but on the inside you felt giddy, like what you remember life to feel like before you started isolating yourself. “Um, sorry. I’ll have it for here I suppose.”

“Do you want the cream?”

“Sure. Thank you.”

“Anything else?”

“Yes, I’ll have a -” Harry’s profile was something you could get lost in. How the tip of his nose seemed to bounce with every word he said, how it looked as if his lips were made to form the words falling from between them, or how no matter how many times he tried to get it to stay back, one of his curls would continue to break loose from the rest and fall past his forehead. From what little you’ve seen of it, Harry had a great sense of fashion. Comfortable. A brown teddy bear jumper was covering his upper body, sleeves long enough to gather just past his hands and torso short enough that you could see his white shirt peeking out from underneath, ripped black jeans, a pair of black chelsea boots, and  those same tortoise shell glasses perched on his nose completed his look.  

“Ready?”

“Huh?”

“You ready? ‘ve got a table back by the door.”

The two of you made your move to walk back towards the front of the shop, but you halted in your tracks when you saw that yes, he in fact did have a table waiting for him, but it was also being inhabited by the two boys you had seen behind him when he came to ask for thread. Neal and Liam? And a girl was sitting between the two as they chatted amongst themselves.

“Harry I don’t -”

“Come on, I promise we don’t bite.” Apparently you still didn’t look convinced because he leaned down to be at your eye level and stuck his lip out in a pout. “One drink. Please? I owe you remember?”

“Yes and you’ve already bought me a new one, thank you by the way, so you don’t owe me anything else.”

“I know.” the apples of his cheeks began getting pinker the longer he stared at you, “But I’d very much like to spend some time with you.”

Just like he did when he knocked on your door, his eyes widened and immediately seemed to want to backtrack what he had said. “Wait no, not in that way. In like a ‘hey I think you’re cute -’ no fuck that’s not -”

“Harry.”

“Yes?”

“One drink.”

The relief was instant on his features, his shoulders sagging and eyebrows un-furrowing at your words. “Good. Afraid my mates were going to start thinking I made you up.”

“I live across the hall, they’ve seen me.”

“Well yeah, but I talk about you so much they thi- I - fuck.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that fell from between your lips. You may not have had many friendships or relationships of any kind, but you did know excessive rattling wasn't generally how people spoke to one another.  “You babble a lot.”

“Only when ‘m nervous.”

“Why are you nervous?”

Harry wasted no time in his response, taking a quick glance over to you. “Because I finally get to spend time with the pretty girl across the hall.”

The heat rushing to your cheeks had become something of a common occurrence when speaking with Harry. It wasn’t obvious if he knew what he was doing or not, but you couldn’t imagine someone like Harry not knowing how to flirt. Thankfully, however, someone from the table spoke up before you could dwell on his comment longer than necessary.

“Finally!” the man sitting at the end of the booth spoke. He was dressed very similar to Harry in color - a tan quilted shirt was hidden beneath a cream colored teddy bear jacket, and pleated brown trousers. The light facial hair stubbled along his cheeks made him look slightly older than Harry, but his complete baby face counteracted that.

Harry looked at you briefly, raising his eyebrows with a ‘what did I tell you?’ kind of look as he bent down to slide into the booth next to the other man. His style was much different than the other two, more streetwear. He was wearing black trackies and an old gray band tee under a denim jacket, baseball hat and the very apparent smell of cigarettes finishing off the outfit. Another difference with him was that he had a girl with him. What you assumed to be his girlfriend by the way her head was resting on his shoulder and his hand fell on her knee. She was beautiful, long brown hair fell loose around her shoulders, only kept back by the fragile looking sunnies that rested at the top of her head. She was wearing a simple white top and a pair of white,black, and brown plaid trousers, both of which were overshadowed by the beautiful black Balenciaga jacket hanging off of her shoulders.

“Was starting to think you’d been lying about actually knowing her, Haz.” the one closest to Harry spoke, earning a light slap to his chest from the girl on his shoulder.

Harry disregarded all of their antics and turned to pat the seat next to him, indicating he wanted you to sit down, and he gave you a reassuring nod when you nibbled your lower lip between your teeth.

It was subtle acts like Harry letting you sit on the outside of the booth so you could make a quick getaway if needed that reminded you how easily he seemed to pick up on your social cues - even if you didn’t realize you did them. It made your chest tickle that even just from the two substantial conversations you’d had with him, Harry picked up on things you did.

“Piss off.” Harry chuckled, reminding you a lot of friendships you’d seen on tv where they all take the piss but it was easy to see that they all cared for one another. It was something you���d always been envious of while watching the world from the sidelines. “Georgie, this is Niall, Louis, and Louis’ girlfriend Eleanor. Everyone, this is Georgie.”

You were met with a chorus of hellos and you would’ve loved to just jump right into their conversation about the best places to get guacamole, just so that they knew you weren’t intentionally being rude to them. But not only were you not good at this conversation thing, but you also were still on edge about forming any sort of connection with these people. Apparently you should get used to Harry and his all knowing mind, because before you could excuse yourself from the awkwardness, he spoke up.

“So, how long have you lived in the building?”

Unprepared for the question, you froze for a second. “Oh, um going on six years now.”

“Impossible! What are you, like twenty? No way you’ve lived there that long!” Eleanor asked, her head no longer on Louis’ shoulder, instead she was sitting upright and looking directly at you. Of course, over the span of the years, you had gotten quite good at looking at people without really paying any attention to what was only visible to you above their heads, but it still made you uneasy. The best solution was just not to look at them at all. But these people, people who had no idea who you were a mere ten minutes ago yet were now welcoming you into their lives, made you want to work on avoiding the numbers. Because this was the most alive you’d felt in years.

“‘M twenty three. Be twenty four next Friday.”

“No shit! Alright well I’m coming over so you can teach me your skincare routine because you look flawless.” she gleamed, leaning forward on the table to jot down her phone number on one of the many spare napkins littering the tabletop.

“As much as I love a good skincare routine, let’s not skip over the more important part of that sentence. Your birthday is next week?” Harry asked, gently shoving his shoulder against yours and offering a kind smile when you glanced up at him.

“Oh, it’s not a big deal. I haven’t really celebrated my birthday since I turned like eleven.” your parents used to throw you a party every year while growing up, a lavish over the top kind of party where all of your classmates were invited and family you had never even heard of pinched your cheeks. But as time went on and you didn’t give up your ‘ridiculous fantasy’ as your mother so kindly put it, they began to stop throwing the party. Now, you were lucky if they sent you a card on the day. Plus, celebrating your birthday alone is kind of a downer.

“You haven’t celebrated your birthday in over a decade?” Niall’s mouth hung open like that was the craziest thing he’d ever heard.

“Nope.”

“Well that just won’t do.” you may not know very much about the people seated around you, but the smirk on Louis’ face told you everything you needed to know. “We’re having a party.”

“Um, thank you. Really. But parties aren’t really my thing. Plus I’m working that day so…”

“Oh, where do you work?” Harry asked, thoroughly interested in where you spend most of your days.

“Good Samaritan.”

“The nursing home down on Adams?”

“That’s the one. I’m a caregiver.” when you first applied for the position, you thought you were crazy. For someone who doesn’t want to get close to anyone in fear of their untimely demise, you definitely went for a job exactly the opposite. But that was the appeal to you. Sure, it was terribly sad to see one of your patients pass, but in the time leading up to it, you knew exactly who needed a little extra love. It was nice to be able to remind their loved ones to visit while making routine phone calls, and to do things to make them smile in what only you knew were their last days. It was the only time you thought what you were born with was some kind of gift. The tiniest most unwelcomed gift.

“That’s wonderful.” Harry’s voice was gently next to you, like he was hanging on to every short word that you said.

“Well, we’ll just have a party once you’re done with work.” Louis shrugged, but held his hands up when you opened your mouth to remind him you didn’t want anything. “Not a party, a friendly get together with friendly neighbors and alcohol.”

That day in the cafe was the beginning to a new start for you.

Obviously Lucifer had to hear about everything that happened that afternoon, but she was there to experience it first hand when Eleanor came knocking on your door the following day. She got to watch as you bent over in genuine laughter at your shared banter. She watched from the kitchen counter as Harry came by with food one night, saying he just happened to order extra lo mein and heard you come home. And as the two of you sat in the living room watching Big Brother, talking about everything from your favorite color to why he majored in physical therapy in university. Luci got to watch you break out of the shell you’d worked so hard on forming around you, and even though you knew she couldn’t understand what was happening, you liked to think her frequent meows were those of encouragement.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” The yells came from all corners of the room when you walked into Louis’s flat the following Friday, making your eyes widen and shoulders straighten. As much progress as you’d been making in your life, with branching out and slowly losing your fear of connection, it would take more than a week to crack down those barriers you’d built so high for so long.

“Thank you.” you laughed, putting down the bottle of wine you’d brought just in time for everyone to start surrounding you in hugs.

“Happy Birthday, love.” Harry’s voice was soothing in your ear, like a sense of relief in the overstimulation the other three had given you. You didn’t regret their company like you would have only a month ago, instead you welcomed the foriegn feelings. But it was still nice to have a moment of calm to fully process everything.

“Thank you Harry.”

“I hope it’s not too much. I told them to cool it on the balloons and confetti - especially since we all know I’ll be the one to pick it up in the morning.” he laughed, offering you a glass of wine that everyone else seemed to already be enjoying.

“No, no, it’s great. A nice segway from doing nothing every year.”

“Still can’t believe you haven’t celebrated your birthday in so long! That’s a day that should be celebrated by everyone!”that same look you’d grown to quite enjoy flashed over his features, his momentary distress as he realized he said something he wasn’t planning on sharing. But the look disappeared when he saw your knowing smile. “Don’t start.”

As promised, there was no party, per say. Everyone was just scattered around Louis’ living room telling stories about absolutely nothing that had everyone in stitches. It was the kind of party you’d always been envious of, one where mates could hang out and lose themselves in the company of each other. It was the first time you didn’t have a single thought about impending doom for more than an hour, a feit you would be sure not to forget.

Niall was laid out on the floor under the windows, a half empty bottle of rum in his hand and the other rested on his stomach, occasionally itching an invisible nuisance. Louis was seated in the arm chair directly across from Niall, a very buzzed Eleanor draped across his lap and the more the night went on, the less chances you had of seeing their faces separated. And Harry was seated next to you on the sofa, his arm hung on the back of the cushion in such a way that everyone so often you would feel the very tips of his fingers skim the exposed skin on your shoulder.

You wished you could freeze this moment in time, because a photograph or video would never do it justice. It was almost as if you were watching the night play out in front of you like a movie, not really in your body but watching from afar. Watching as the girl who hid herself from the world began to hatch, slowly cracking the hard exterior surrounding her. And you would do anything to bottle the feeling of pride that swelled in your chest knowing you had achieved that.

“Literally right in the face mate. No joke.” Niall cackled, his laugh a contrast in that moment; escaping his mouth loudly but carrying throughout the room softly. Taking off like a leaf blowing through the fall breeze.

“Georgie.” your name slipped from between Harry’s lips beautifully, like he was created for the sole purpose of saying your name over and over again; forever. “Alright?”

And sitting in the living room of Louis’ flat, listening to your friends’ wine induced giggles, looking at the most captivating pair of green eyes and curly hair that only whatever magical being that was above could’ve created, you were alright. You were so alright that the minuscule ticks of the clocks of your new and only friends, ticks you tried so hard to avoid paying attention to, almost seemed to disappear completely. Almost.

71 years, 2 months, 10 days, 3 hours, 16 minutes, 55 seconds. 68 years, 11 months, 3 days, 19 hours, 43 minutes, 2 seconds. 68 years, 7 months, 21 days, 1 hour, 58 minutes, 33 seconds. 62 years, 8 months, 9 days, 11 hours, 12 minutes, 2 seconds. 2 years, 1 month, 30 days, 23 hours, 34 minutes, 56 seconds.

[noctis-noctua]

Iron Resolve and Refreshing Gales | Overworked Jean x Reader

Relationship: Jean/Reader

Genre: Fluff

Premise: Jean has been pushing herself to the max lately and refuses to acknowledge the detrimental consequences of it no matter who tells her… except for the one person who has her wholehearted devotion.

1754 words.

Here you go! Sorry if it’s a bit subpar - this is my first time writing for Jean, but no complaints here. She’s awesome and I am a total simp for her lmao. 

    Jean has a destructive tendency to attend to the needs of everyone but herself. It doesn’t matter if the issue is as trivial as finding a lost cat or filing papers - Jean carries out each and every request from the citizens of Mondstadt. These days have been busier than usual. Ludi Harpastum is a few days away and that means that preparations are being carried out religiously. In other words, Jean has people knocking on her door non-stop. Can you help decorate Town Square? Hilichurls are blocking the path that my goods are traded on, could you please clear them out? She hasn’t felt the doting embrace of sleep in two days, nor has she consumed more than a couple of light meals. ‘There’s no time for them,’ she often explains to the other Knights. ‘I’m satisfied with anything I can get.’ 

    Lisa is an early riser. She enjoys taking time to brew a pot of Sumerian tea and read new material as the sun floods across Mondstadt, and to do so she must awaken ahead of schedule. It’s because of this that Lisa arrives at the office before anyone else; 5:00 am to be exact, leaving much time to prepare for the day’s labor. She strides to the library doors before coming to a sudden stop, observing the sounds of a frenzied pen in the room across from hers. Jean’s room. Lisa does not hesitate to open the door, exposing a fatigued blonde reading and marking up a stack of documents.

    “Jean, have you been here all night?” Jean’s eyes are dull, leaden bags hanging from beneath them. On the right side of her desk is an almost-spent candle, the dwindling remains of its wax no more than 2 inches. 

    “Oh, good morning Lisa. Unfortunately, I have. That’s alright, though. The sooner I finish them the sooner I can move on to patrolling.” Her tone is desolate despite Jean’s attempts to liven it. The blaring headache ricocheting in her brain is practically begging her to rest, but Barbatos knows that’s not an option. She still has so much to do, and even after she completes this there are mor-

    “[Y/N] hasn’t seen you in days. Not taking a break strains her, too.” Lisa remarks, eyes dancing over the bookshelf. She catches sight of the full series of The Fox in the Dandelion Sea. Mondstadt’s famous romance novels, and one of Jean’s favorites. It’s almost ironic, how such a neglectful Knight came to be a sappy romantic. 

    “...[Y/N] is strong and independent, Lisa. She has no need for me, and although I’d enjoy seeing her, I know that she is perfectly capable of looking after herself. If I have to push my relationship to the side momentarily to sate the people of Mondstadt, then it has to be done.” Jean responds as she pushes another paper to the side. By now there must be 40 finished pages. It pains Lisa to look at them, much less read them. Making peace with defeat, she suggests that Jean purchases a full meal and exits the stuffy quarters. The Dandelion Knight can do nothing but sigh for the 40th time, doing the best she can to ignore the subtle shaking of her limbs, the thrashing pain in her head, and the gradual blur of her sight. 

    She’s fortunate enough to finish up faster than expected and spends the spare time making a beeline for Good Hunter. Suddenly, the hunger in her stomach is 10x more noticeable, and nothing else is on her mind but eating some Fisherman Toast. That is until she bumps into a sobbing blob of red, blubbering much as a fish does.

    “Klee! Did something happen? Did you blow something up?” Jean interrogates, crossing her arms. The small Knight makes a tentative nod and bursts into another fit of tears. I was really hungry… It’s fine, I can always eat later. Jean comforted herself as she held Klee’s tiny palm, preparing for the damage inflicted. 

-

    It’s 11:00 pm. Jean’s ponytail has been ruffled to a point of no return, convincing her to take it down and let the locks of hair flood down her shoulders. New civil letters sit on the mahogany table. Jean prepares another candlestick for the long night ahead, resisting the culling of sleep. It’s much harder to focus than it was last night and nothing but a handful of 10-minute naps and a mushroom skewer are stopping her from dropping dead. Finish fast and I can go home and get a 3-hour nap… Jean’s mind is so adrift and preoccupied that she ignores Kaeya’s presence entirely. 

   “Busy as always, Acting Grand Master. I heard it’s your 3rd day at the office. I thought I’d take the time to invite you to Angel’s Share.” The Cavalry Captain’s voice is sultry, filling the dusty silence. Jean takes one look at his flamboyant figure and turns back to the envelope in her hand, squinting at the printed symbols.

    “Sorry, Sir Kaeya, but I have some stuff to do. I can’t possibly drink - it may impact my performance. Thank you, though.” Kaeya chuckles at that. Stalking over to the paned glass, he observes the joyous city below. Upon closer inspection, Jean looks like absolute shit. Her hair is mussed and her skin is a cumbersome shade, a slight green tone atop her normal paleness. 

    “Same old excuse. Take some time off. You need some fun, Acting Grand Master. It must be boring to be so serious all the time.” His words are not valuable enough to be met with more than a hum. “Fine, fine, be that way. But know that if you ever want to come down, everything is on me. It’s not every day that you come out. Plus… pushing yourself so much can’t be good for your health, Jean.” The drop of formalities is Kaeya’s last attempt to pull his superior away from the bureau, and then he takes his leave. Jean doesn’t fail to notice the painkillers he slipped onto the papers. That snarky Captain… as crass as he tries to be, Jean knows that his actions come from a genuine concern for her health. Thanking him in silence, she tosses the two pills into the back of her throat. 

    The evening descended into twilight, then to the darkest hours of the morning, and Jean has not moved from her chair. The herbal pills had dissipated an hour ago, and the pounding of her headache is almost enough to send Jean reeling. She doesn’t stop, obviously; she’s felt much harsher pains. 4:00 am tranquility serves to be helpful for such aches, but now that her entire body is in pain, it’s much harder to soothe. Her head jolts in intervals as she fights the intense drowsiness. Iron as her resolve may be, Jean is human. Her back hunches as her arms catch a drifting head that now lolls on her reports. The flutter of her eyelashes is peaceful in its own right. Slow exhales leave Jean’s body as she sleeps, her body relishing in such a rare moment. 

    Jean opens her eyes to the scene of a stubby candle that has burnt out. She opens her intricate timepiece in a hurry. 5:00 am. How could she have slept for an entire hour? Dread floods her system as she thinks of how much she has delayed her already bustling schedule. In the midst of her panic, the door opens. It must be Lisa. No one else is mindlessly occupying the building at this ti-

    “Hi, Jean. I brought some tea and cookies for you. I’m sure you must be exhausted… it’s been three days since I’ve seen you, after all.” Jean’s stare softens at the sight of her beloved holding a steaming teacup and a tray of shortbread. She caresses the hand that passes the teacup. The comfort of skin is something she longs for, and something she has deprived herself of these past few days.

    “[Y/N]... I’m sorry. I’ve just been so busy lately, and…” Her lips become still as you tread your fingers through her hair and press a chaste kiss to her forehead. “...and I’ve missed you.” She revels in the smile that tugs from you. That beautiful smile… Archons, how much she’s missed it.

    “Jean, come home. If not for your livelihood, for mine. The bed has been cold.” The desperation in your voice breaks Jean’s heart in two. If Jean is a Dandelion Knight, you are the passionate gales of Barbatos plucking her apart, seed by seed. There is no plausible way for her to stay composed around you. Jean leans into the hand against her cheek, a cat yearning for human contact.

    “I suppose I can… do these in the morning.” That earns a swift glare from you. Jean huffs, taking a singular bite of the shortbread. She’s had to explain her Knightly duties to you in many instances, but it always went through one ear and out the other without fail. 

    “No, absolutely not Jean. Give it to your subordinates. Tomorrow, you are staying with me, no questions asked. I’m sure they’ll allow it - your face looks 5 seconds away from death. Now come.” Jean grimaces at the list of tasks she’s stuck on the table’s edge, biting her lip in a debate against herself. Surrendering herself to the feeble begging of her lover, she mutters a small agreement. The tug on her arm convinces Jean to stand, leaning into your shoulder. She finds solace in the warmth you radiate as both of you exit the Knight’s Quarters arm-in-arm, attached at the hip like lovesick puppies. 

    The sun has begun to ascend again, accompanied by a saccharine breeze. It smells of sweet flowers and calla lilies. It smells of the fresh fields of Windrise, tangling Jean’s hair. 

    “Look, even Barbatos is happy that you’re taking a break!” You tease, and Jean cannot help but giggle. She will always laugh at your jokes, and she will always give in to your demands for touch because Jean is a hopeless, pining fool. On the elevated platforms on the Cathedral stairs, Lisa’s plump lips curve as she sees the Dandelion Knight and her precious adventurer roaming the empty streets of Mondstadt. It’s days like this that Lisa is grateful for waking early, so she can experience the morning wind, the rising sun, a delectable dish of tea, and a picturesque scene of a dandelion being burst by the adamant winds.

[huearmy]

The Smell of Truth - I

Summary: After years being forced to fight in clandestine hybrid ring, Jungkook is now living in shelter, but life remains bad, the place is abusive, and nobody seems to want adopt him. Until one night a pro-hybrid activist group invades the shelter, and a woman in black smelling like truth promises that things will get better, and he decides to follow her wherever she goes.

Pairing: pitbull!Jungkook x human!Reader

Genre: fluff, angst, future smut maybe.

Words: 3090

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: Light descriptions of violence, nothing much. For now. Jungkook is just a cute pie here ok dont touch me.

 Chapter II  Chapter III  Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII

gif is not mine

The gray walls of the silent shelter were cold as it were since day one, the bed was small and the blanket could be softer, from the window a yellow light of a light pole bringing the sensation of isolation. Not so different of the last home of Jungkook.

There were two main differences, though. First and more important, now he didn't need to fight to not die in the rings. And - he was thinking if it is good or not - for the first time in so long he could have a prospect of hope, after all, some people seemed interested in adopting him.

But all of them feared him too.

Some days he spend all his time thinking about how to improve his own image so that someone may want to take him home - trying the hardest to look good in his padronized white clothes, fixing is hair, and maintaining a good posture always. Other days he is just a damn pessimist, knowing that anyone will want a pitbull hybrid. But okay, so if they can't acept him with his disturbed past, he won't acept them neither. He want to be loved after all, high standars... Thats what he tells himself often.

Tonight he don't really care.

Like in his previous home he was going to bed feeling like trash, bones hurting like hell and taste of blood in his mouth. In the reflection on the window he could see the cut and swell in his lips and the hematoma below his left eye. Earlier he got beat up by the shelter's guards. They were four against one, and they had batons to hit and electrocute him. All of this just because he wanted to be alone in his corner and growled for another dog who was annoying him by pulling his tail, maybe they thought he was going to do something violent, but he wasn't. Despite his past, Jungkook hate fighting. And then he just tried to defend himself.

Hours passed and he couldn't sleep, something in his gut telling him he should be alert. The night watchman should've passed by his door ten minutes ago. But he heard nothing. He waited to hear the now familiar sound of the watchman's steps... But instead when the sound came it was of a lot more of feet hitting the ground, coming in his direction, and fast.

Suddenly the door of his room opened with a bang, a tall figure in all black and with a gun in it's belt looking at him from the door frame. 

Jungkook hate guns. More than he hate fights. So before he knows it, he is against the wall, protecting himself.

The man said something taking a slow step closer, but Jungkook couldn't hear it clearly - he was too afraid to. Only two types of pople use guns: Cops and the bad guys, sometimes the person is both, like his past owner. He don't like it. Other hybrids were leaving with more people in black in the corridor, and he couldn't understand why. The man reached out for him, and he growled, his ears flat against his head, tail between his legs. So the man steped back, calling for someone.

Poor thing. A million things were crossing Jungkook's mind, all of them horrible... They found me... my old owners found me... They will kill me... They will make me kill... I need to scape...

He was ready to fight his way free, to jump against the tall man and run the faster he could. He was ready to fly through the window even if it was a fall of three floors. Anything but going back to that hell...

His thoughts got cut by a smaller person appering from behind the man. You were all in black too, with tactical boots and all. But no gun. 

"Go help with the others..." Your voice came demanding but soft. When the man disappeared, you tried to approach Jungkook. He growled again. "It's ok..." You said pulling down your mask, revelling your face, and a soft smille. "My name is Y/N. I'mma friend, we are here to help.". You took a step closer, and Jungkook let you. You saw it as a hint to continue, crouching down to stay on the same level as him - he hadn't even realized he was huddled in the corner - and reaching out so he can smell you. "We know this place is no good... So we came to rescue.".

He sniffed you once. In the next second Jungkook was all over you. Practically jumping around you, wagging his tail and smelling you. You smell like truth to him, also something sweet, so he'd follow you anywhere.

"Hey, easy boy." You laugh. Automatically Jungkook got embarrassed for being so excited, a little bit more and he would've crushed you in a hug. "What's your name?"

"Jungkook."

"Well, Jungkook... Nice to meet ya." You reach out to greet him, and he took your hand in his. But before he could say anything back, the man appeared in the door frame again, now caring a little cat hybrid girl.

"Y/N, all the bombs are in place. We need to go."

Bombs? Jungkook ears lifted in alert. Like bombs that explode? He looked to you waiting some reaction.

"Oh crap. Is everyone out?" You casually answered.

"We are the last ones I think..." He said as if it was about the weather, carefully accommodating the sleepy girl in his arms.

Maybe bombs are not that big of a deal. Jungkook thought to himself, accepting the odd perspective of both of you.

"Ok, Jungkook, this place is going down. If it there is anything you want to take with you..." 

Before you finish the sentence he was putting a tiny wallet in his pocket, and wearing a old cap from the nightstand.

"Ready." Jungkook said with a nod.

You smiled, pulling your mask back up in place. "Let's go then.". You took his hand and ran through the door, Jungkook close behind.

Out side almost all the other hybrids were already safe in the couple of vans of your group, approximately twenty people in black escorting them. You lead Jungkook to one of them following the orientation of another woman with mask and high ponytail. "You go with Youngjae, Y/N.".

"Ok, thanks."

A lot of the hybrids were totally ok with the action, others, mostly the youngers, were sleeping or half asleep. Despite that, a rabbit girl were crying to not enter the van you were supposed to go in.

"You are not understanding... I was going to be adopted on Monday, I need to be here when they came to get me... " she sobbed.

"We know, it's ok... " Youngjae rubbed her arms to comfort her. "We read your file, and I promise you will be with your new owners soon. Okay?"

The girl entered in the van, still a little reluctant, sitting in the passenger's seat - where you were supposed to sit. You didn't think much about it though. You made Jungkook enter and sit in one of the only two available sits, and even if it were more options for you, he didn't let go of your hand, practically pulling you down. He wouldn't make eye contact with you, preferring to keep his gaze down, and wouldn't initiate a conversation, but he would not let go of you neither...

Actually he was holding your hand for dear life.

This is good. You through to yourself. 

Hybrids need to feel safe, and if he feels this way right now... It's good. You read all the files of all hybrids days before this of invasion, to know how bad the situation was. Not all of the poor creatures had a sad past before the shelter - all of them were suffering abuse in the shelter  - but you remember specifically of Jungkook file, and his violent precedence in rings. When you saw the pictures  of how he arrived at the shelter, bruised and curled up in the corner you felt sick and sad. Employee reports said he didn’t allow proximity and showed passive aggression, save for one of the vets, so you - experienced in hybrid behavior - volunteered to be responsible for him. Definitely you didn't expect him to be so easily trusty of you. And that's really good. 

"You ok?" You murmure to him just in case. He just nodded, still staring his feet.

A whimper caught the attention of both of you. The dog hybrid that was beside Jungkook, that must've be sixteen, was shrinking up against the window and holding a bunch of stuffed animals as a shield, apparently afraid him. Jungkook scoffed it with a low growl, turning his eyes back to his shabby shoes, choosing to ignore the boy. This kid was the one invading his space earlier that morning. You got alert to intervene in case of a fight, tensing up.

But Jungkook hate fights. Even more if it happens in tight places like a van. He wouldn't do anything even if he wanted to, and it wasn't the case. There is no one who can force him to fight again.

"Everyone is here? Ok. LET'S GO!" That other woman closed the van's door that started moving. In the shelter's external wall, Jungkook saw the enormous words 'SET US FREE' written in red. Just after the last van passed through the gate the building they all were just a few meters before exploded.

"Wooow!" You cheered along Youngjae and some hybrids.

Jungkook turned on his sit to see the flames through the back window, flames red and high likng the black sky of the night, illuminating all around. You observed the look of amazement in his eyes, wondering what he was thinking. Well, the shelter is what saved Jungkook from his old life. In the shelter he could eat three full meal a day, have his own things and shower every day - his favorite part. But he was always surrounded by crowds what make him anxious most of time, and always getting scolded by the shelter employees that clearly didn't really cared for him, getting beaten up more than once. So he couldn't name the feeling in his chest. He could be sad... Or it could be satisfaction... A mix of both maybe. He just imagined the face of the guys that beat him up seeing the ruins and that written wall next morning and chuckled.

"Jungkook sit straight and put the seat belt, please." You squished his hand lightly.

Another feeling that he couldn't name... "Oh. Ok."

A silence settled in the vehicle, cutting trough the night city at high speed. Most of the hybrids were falling asleep, feeling the euphoria of getting free of the shelter going away, long night after all - and it didn't even ended yet - you couldn't blame them to be tired. You knew that in the moment the job ended and the adrenaline lowered, you would be dead tired yourself, ready to sleep till next year. Unfortunately you must keep your image intact and free suspicions, what means going to work normally next day. But in the moment you needed to be alert and ready to protect. Or at least awake.

Just like Jungkook. This boy was wide awake, looking through the window, paying attention in how the  Youngjae drives super fast, and gazing you by the corner of his eyes. If he had more space he would be jumping around, his dog excitement exploding out of control. Or he would get shy and only imagine it while looking trough nothing. Something in his mind was, where were you all going? That girl apparently was going to be adopted soon, do that mean he would be adopted too? What kind of owner he would get? But can he trust it would happen? Or trust in these people in black? He didn't know you or your group. What if you were the bad guys, kidnapping hybrids to do bad things...? Jungkook stared suspiciously to you, who was talking quietly with the driver. You didn't seen bad, or mean, or evil. Quite the opposite, you look cute and sweet and beautiful, almost too good to be real. He could say you look totally harmless too if it were not for the shock weapon in your waist and tactical boots ... or the whole situation in general. You're just like every ordinary people that usually look at him fear and mistrust.

"Is everything ok?" You asked again. He just made 'no' with his head. You narrowed your eyes, focusing on Jungkook's face. "This bruises... What happened?"

The poor boy considered what to say, fearing that you would not believe him if he said that he got unjustly beaten, which is true, but obviously you would think he deserved it. Maybe he should stay quiet, so you wouldn't hate him. He should at least look like a good boy to impress. Before Jungkook decided between truth or silence - lying was out of question, he was horrorible in it - a voice besides him awnsered.

"The guards were bored and attacked him for no reason." You both looked to the young boy who had a guilty expression. "I'm sorry, it was my fault, I just wanted to play..."

"Oh". Both you and Jungkook cooed. He didn't expected do recieve a out side help, much less a apologise, the feeling was unprecedented. 

"And well, you were the only one who didn't know about the rescue, I wanted to tell you."  

Jungkook was confused. "Everybody knew?"

"All the hybrids..." The boy said, suddenly super comfortable around Jungkook.

"And some employes who helped us from within." You added, pulling Jungkook's face for you to see again. "Did someone treated this cut?" You questioned. 

Jungkook made 'no' with his head once more and than completed with a low voice. 

"The doctor who likes me wasn't working today.".

You sighed in understanding.

"She was one who helped us, we got her an alibi away from here."  You leaned forward, talking to the driver through the rear view mirror. "Youngjae, do we have a first aid kit?" 

"Under my seat."

The boy stared at the stuffed animals for a good time and then extended one to Jungkook. “Keep him.”

Jungkook looked at the stuffed bunny closely and smiled. “Thank you.”

With the white suitcase open on your lap and letting go of Jungkook's hand - for his dislike - you puted some hydrogen peroxide in a piece of gauze and faced him. "Can I?" You asked permission with a smile. Just like the sweet doctor did when the shelter welcomed him you took care of him - with a little less skill, but lovelly still, making him feel safe. Ok, he absolutelly trust you now.

___________________________________________________

Durig the next hour you received on the radio  news of the vans that took different paths  arriving at the meeting place, yours being one of the last ones. Gladly no one had any unwanted encounters or problems on the way. The place in question was a freight train station, the secondthe van stoped, Youngjae was out to open the lateral door and you waking the hybrids up. "Lets go my sweet things. You can go back to sleep in a little while." You picked up a sleepy little hybrid, and along Youngjae helped all of them to get aou of the van, to follow the group to two big wagons open for them. Outside, those who saw would see only a common freight train, but inside the cars were adapted to take those hybridos in comfort and safety to a farm, one of the places where your organization guarantees a dignified life for hybrids, especially those who have not had an easy past, whether living there or going to good owners - whatever they choose. Jungkook tried to accompany you in the crowd by holding your hand, but he lost you by a few meter, almost not being able to see you between so many heads and the low light, just following your voice, biting his lip anxiously. For a moment his focus leaved you to the rabbit hybrid girl, she got separated from the group, having time to just quickly  say goodbye to another girl, before she run to a car where a couple was waiting for her, the three of then huged, the man took her bag and putted in the trunk. She was really being adopted. Oh man, Jungkook want this so bad. If he is a good boy will he be adopted soon too? "Please, get in." A man in black putted a hand in Jungkook shouder, making him came back daydream. He got surprised for a momente, this man had dog ears to, the men in black have hybrid in their crew. "Please, get i the train." "Wait. No... Y/N..." Apparently he was the only one disturbing, all the other hybrids obeying quietly or already inside the car, looking at him as if he was a weirdo - at least Jungkook felt this way. "Y/N?" "I'm here." You emerged from the crowd. "It's okay, Jungkook, you can get in." "Ok." He smiled to you taking your hand again. He trust you so... But he stoped midstep when he noticed you didn't move. "Aren't you coming too?" You seemed surpresided when responding. "No." He thought for half a second and decided, setting his feet on the ground. "So I'm not getting in neither." "Jungkook..." you tried to argument but he interrupted you. "I'll go where you go." You both held each other's gaze for a moment. All the hybrids were now accommodated in the train wich was about to leave. That women from before came to hurry you, but you wheren't listenning at all. "Does it mean you want to go home with me?" You firmily asked. Without a second thought he vigorously nodded. "Yes." You released a sigh of relief and smiled.  "They can close the doors. This one I'll take with me." You say to the woman, making Jungkook jump in his spot from excitement.  "Are you sure?" She questioned.  "Yep"  You guided a super happy Jungkook to the oposite direction the train started to move to, the sound of the locomotive and loud honk blinding the little sounds of joy coming out of his mouth as he takes your hand again, swinging it back and forth. Your organization companions looking at you with knowing eyes. Never before you even consider adopting any of the rescued hybrids.

______________________________________________________________

this gonna be a series too. pls give love to it.

[umbry-fic]

Beaches! And Dolphins! (And Arsonists!)

Summary:

Colette: Misella, come play at the beach with me! Misella: I appreciate the invitation, but I must decline. Misella: I have been informed that I am 'not the beach type'. Colette: What? But... the beach is so much fun!

Colette, Lloyd, Arche and Genis spend an afternoon at the beach. Shenanigans ensue.

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia, Tales of Crestoria Characters: Colette Brunel, Lloyd Irving, Arche Klein, Genis Sage, Raine Sage, Misella Relationships: Colette Brunel/Lloyd Irving, Colette Brunel & Lloyd Irving & Arche Klein & Genis Sage Rating: G Word Count: 4789 Mirror Link: AO3 Original Post Date: 20/07/2021

Notes+Warnings: A fun fic based on Colette's Crestoria summer alt. (Don't take this too seriously!) Arche and Genis are both wearing their Asteria summer alts.

Slight spoiler warning for a design change in Crestoria chapter 8. No spoilers for Lloyd's side story.

Credits to @likes-words-and-shrimp for inspiring the conversation at the start. Happy summer! ♥

~~~

“Oh god.” Arche spat out a mouthful of pineapple juice, fumbling and nearly dropping the glass she was holding, tiny umbrella and all, into the sand. She coughed into her free hand, desperately trying not to enter a wheezing fit. She had not expected to witness this today.

“Genis already warned me, but… Really, what possessed you to choose this?!” Arche asked in disbelief.

Genis and Colette, in Arche’s humble opinion, both looked adorable - Genis in swimming trunks and a pair of kitten flip-flops; Colette in a swimsuit dress, golden hair tied into a messy ponytail, and equipped with cute accessories that only added to her charm.

Then there was Lloyd. Who was wearing the loudest Hawaiin print shirt she had ever seen, paired with… shorts that were secured with a belt? These were the weirdest clothing choices she had ever seen. Who wore a belt when they were going to the beach?

Lloyd was very red and very noticeable, sticking out like a sore thumb on the beach.

At least he had made a sensible decision when it came to his footwear - he was wearing sandals. If he had chosen to wear covered shoes to the beach, Arche may have needed to bury Lloyd on the spot for his crimes.

Lloyd scowled, clearly not appreciating Arche’s gaping expression or Genis snickering behind her. His childhood friend had a hand on Arche’s shoulder, and it was the only thing keeping him from collapsing in laughter.

“It’s my favourite colour!” Lloyd protested, crossing his arms and glaring away into the distance. “Besides, how much more ridiculous is it than your silly hat, Arche?”

“Excuse me?” Arche retorted, straightening up in indignation. She adjusted the hat in question, which was not a hat at all. “This is a sun visor! Can’t you see it’s made of plastic? It’s a fashion statement. A fashion statement. And a practical one at that, because my sensitive skin needs protection! It’s miles better than your shirt!”

Arche glared back in full force, fire raging in her eyes. Despite her being a full three heads shorter than Lloyd, she appeared threatening enough to make Lloyd take a hurried step back.

“Alright, alright!” Lloyd conceded, holding his hands up in surrender. “Don’t murder me.”

“I told you this was a horrible choice yesterday, Lloyd,” Genis gasped between snickers, bending down with his hands on his knees. His sides were in pain. “Anyone would have known that this was a horrible choice. Anyone except you! You should have been there when he tried it on, Arche.”

Genis had done more than just tell Lloyd. Upon seeing Lloyd step out of the dressing room, Genis had groaned and buried his head in his hands. For an entire hour. Colette had tried to get him to raise his head with wonderful motivational quotes like “You can do it!”, but ultimately failed to knock Genis out of his stupor.

“Honestly, I’m thanking my lucky stars that I already owned mine,” Arche replied drily. And her two-piece swimsuit was cute too! A win. “I was spared seeing this disaster unfold live.”

“I think it looks nice,” Colette spoke up, butting into the conversation with a sunny smile. “Red looks good on Lloyd. It’s like… How do I explain it… His colour?”

“See? All of you just have no sense of taste!” Lloyd said triumphantly, blushing a little as he scratched the back of his head, grinning from Colette’s compliment.

“I’d say love is blind. But you’re both blind,” Arche commented, shaking her head and patting Genis on the back. “Come on, Genis, let’s go get started on a sandcastle before these two idiots derail this whole day.”

Colette stared after the retreating back of her two friends, Arche holding her drink high above her head and Genis still letting out a final few peals of laughter. She turned back to Lloyd, blinking in confusion. “Love…?”

“JUST - Think nothing of it!” Lloyd blurted out, blushing harder until his face resembled his shirt. All in all, too much red. “They don’t mean anything by it! Shall we get going too? We only have until Professor Raine picks us up to enjoy the beach.”

“Alright!”

Colette still wanted to know what was up, but chose to drop the line of questioning in favour of getting started with this day of fun. Neither she, nor Lloyd, nor Genis, had ever been to the beach. How could they, having been confined to the limits of a single village for their whole lives?

This was her chance to experience the sparkling waters and pristine sands that every child was supposed to know and experience at least once. All with shining eyes, a ton of energy, and the company of her friends! Arche had promised to act as their guide to all things beach-related, boasting about her expertise in this rather strange area.

It was going to be great, and she couldn’t wait!

Colette spotted a familiar figure in the corner of her vision, standing some distance away on the golden sands. Was that…?

“I see Misella!” Colette chirped, jumping up and down on the balls of her feet in excitement from spotting her new friend. She hoped she could get to know her better - that was a favourite pastime of hers. “I’m going to go say hi!”

“The girl you met last night at the inn? Have fun! I’ll be waiting with...” Lloyd trailed off as he realised that Colette had already taken off, leaving nothing but a cloud of fine sand in her wake. “Ah, she’s gone…” he muttered, smiling fondly. “Just like her.”

Lloyd turned, following the footprints Arche and Genis had left behind. Might as well get started on learning some beach activities! Then he could help Colette ease into them.

He wanted to make this day as amazing for her as possible.

~~~

“Misella!” Colette called out, practically lunging at the other girl’s back in excitement. Misella, rightfully startled, turned around just in time for Colette to grab onto her hands instead of sending Misella face-first into the sand.

Hm? How strange, Colette thought. Misella was still wearing gloves.

Maybe her hands were sensitive to sand…? That was the only reason Colette could think of. Or maybe it was just a fashion thing! Arche would know. She’d ask her later.

“Oh. It’s just you, Colette.” Misella blinked, releasing the tension from her hunched shoulders.

“Sorry for startling you.” Colette giggled. “I’m glad you ended up coming to the beach! You said you wouldn’t last night...”

“Ah, Kanata wanted to come. He said this was a famous beach and it would be a shame if we didn’t visit it,” Misella replied with a gentle smile, her gaze drifting to a boy with blond hair, who was wearing a plain pair of swimming trunks and was busy lugging a bucket from the direction of the waterfront. Kanata’s hand was bandaged - was he injured? Oh, Colette hoped he’d get better soon!

“And… the rest of my acquaintances,” Misella continued, tone shifting from adoring to carefully neutral as her gaze slid further right.

Acquaintances? What a strange way of putting friends!

Colette followed Misella’s gaze... And had to pause to process what she was seeing.

A man with black hair stood next to a lady with light brown hair, both slaving away with shovels in hand. The man wore a Hawaiian shirt over a pair of swimming trunks, the shirt even more eye-catching than Lloyd’s, and unbuttoned to reveal a strange symbol on his stomach. The lady wore a two-piece swimsuit, together with a sun hat made from straw and a pair of dark sunglasses that fully obscured any view of her eyes.

But what Colette was more interested in was where the two were dumping the sand they were so determined to dig up. All of it, weight and all, was going onto a third person who was so obscured by the pile of sand covering them that only their head of silver hair was visible, together with two flailing arms.

And was that screaming?

“Don’t be worried, Colette. This is an activity known as burying someone in sand. It’s a tradition at the beach, and Aegis volunteered,” Misella said in a deadpan tone. “Yuna and Vicious are just helping him.”

“I… I see.”

“Your swimsuit is very cute,” Misella commented, turning so that she blocked the concerning view behind her. She pointed out the white petals nestled securely in Colette’s hair. “And the flower is very beautiful. Is it a lily? I must admit I’m not too knowledgeable on flower species...”

“Oh, thank you so much! Lloyd picked it out for me, and it is a lily! At least, I think so,” Colette replied, any thoughts about the person in the sand already forgotten. Her happy smile only grew wider as she recalled how Lloyd had gifted the lily to her on the way to the beach.

Lloyd had been shifting from foot to foot, unable to look her in the eye as he had offered her the freshly-picked flower, the petals still wet from the morning rain. She hadn’t understood why he had been feeling so nervous, but hadn’t wanted to probe him on it. She had, however, accepted the lily in the blink of an eye, letting him place it in her hair, his fingers brushing against the tip of her ear for a brief moment and making her shiver. Her heart was filled with warm happiness from his actions. She intended to cherish the flower for as long as she could, for it was a gift from Lloyd, and all gifts from Lloyd were precious treasures.

“Like my brightblaze…” Misella muttered to herself, fingers cupping the precious flower that continued to sit in her hair, no matter her outfit or agenda for the day. It would never leave.

“Yours is really pretty as well! So is your swimsuit. It’s elegant,” Colette said eagerly, wanting to return the compliment. Misella’s two-piece swimsuit with a skirt truly fit her!

“Thank you, Colette. And did you get yours from the same place as us? This…” Misella asked, fingers reaching out and brushing the inflatable float that snugly hugged Colette’s arm. The float didn’t resemble any normal ring float - it was shaped like Lloyd, complete with his large smile, spiky hair and red Hawaiian shirt. It was adorable, and Colette absolutely loved it. She would be keeping it forever, even if she never went to the beach again! Lloyd had said much the same about his float, who looked just like her, down to the exact outfit she was wearing right now.

Besides, who said she wasn’t allowed to wear the float even outside of the beach? She wasn’t opposed to proudly wearing it every day, no matter what anyone said to her.

“I see that you have a similar float.” Colette giggled, gently poking the Kanata-shaped float on Misella’s right arm, which complemented the one she could faintly see on Kanata’s arm. “Did the friendly man at the swimwear shop offer to make you a pair as he did with me and Lloyd?”

“The short man with the accent?”

“The very same! He was so nice.”

Colette clasped her hands together, hoping she’d be able to see that friendly man with the bushy beard again. She wanted to thank him one more time for the generous gift - the pair of floats had been completely free of charge, and the details were perfectly done!

She also wanted to just spend some time with him. He seemed like an interesting person, and Lloyd seemed to like him too.

“Ah, Colette,” Misella said, breaking Colette out of her train of thought. “Kanata is calling for me.”

“Oh! Then I won’t keep you any longer.”

“Sorry for cutting our conversation short…”

“Don’t worry about it.” Colette waved Misella’s worries away. “We can always keep talking in the inn tonight. My friends and I aren't going to be leaving till tomorrow. I hope you have a good time! I’ll be joining my friends now.”

“You too, Colette! Have a fun time!” Misella waved goodbye, yelling after Colette’s retreating back.

Colette really was doing a lot of running around today.

She hoped she wouldn’t trip and ruin something…

~~~

“Sorry about the sandcastle. I lost us the competition...” Colette sighed. She crouched and dipped her hand down, letting the incoming waves wash away the granules sticking to it. That wouldn’t be enough to rid her of all the sand clinging to her from her plunge through the sandcastle, but nothing was likely to do that except a dip in the ocean.

Neither would the water wash away the frustrated frown on her face.

“Don’t worry about it,” Lloyd said, his gaze drawn to her, as it always was - watching the sea foam part around her hand; the sea flinging droplets into the air around her. “I’m just glad you’re not hurt. And what mattered was that we had a lot of fun, right?”

“Right!” Colette stood up, her frown fading away. Rivulets of water flowed down her arm and dripped from her fingertips. “I had a ton of fun!” She turned to face the azure waves, taking a step closer. Sunlight rippled on their surface, forming diamonds of pure gold that danced in merriment. “The waters here really are beautiful. They might be the most beautiful thing I’ve seen. Apart from Pasca’s clearing, that is. Thanks for suggesting we come here, Lloyd.”

Lloyd walked further out so he was standing next to Colette, feeling the waves lap at his ankles and submerge his bare feet, his sandals having been abandoned in the protection of Arche and Genis.

The sea wasn’t anywhere close to the most beautiful thing here.

“Anything to make that smile return,” he muttered.

No, that title belonged to the girl standing next to him. Her ponytail swayed in the slight breeze that teased his shoulders, her dress fluttering around her thighs, the metal around her neck glinting golden under the sunlight. Her arms were outstretched to feel the sea spray, her head tipped back in bliss. And on her face was the smile he always wanted to put there, bright and happy and content.

He couldn’t tear his gaze away.

“Lloyd? Earth to Lloyd?”

Lloyd snapped out of his daze to find Colette waving her hand in his face, a pout on her face and her hand on her waist.

“You can’t just stare at me and go silent, you know,” Colette grumbled.

“Sorry. I… I was, um...” Lloyd scrambled to return to his senses, wondering what he could even say without exposing just how deeply he had tumbled into love. Just being this close to her made his heart sing, not to mention how her current outfit turned her cuteness up to eleven and made functioning normally for him nigh impossible. All the ribbons…

He’d choked on his spit when Colette had walked out of the dressing room, hardly able to believe his eyes. Genis had spent the entirety of yesterday night reminding him of this, and Lloyd knew Genis would never let him forget.

A sudden clicking sound emanated from near their feet, interrupting his awkward attempt at an explanation. Boy, was he glad for the distraction.

“Oh!” Colette squealed in delight, crouching once again to peer at the snout that now poked out of the waters - one belonging to a grey dolphin with shining, curious eyes. “Hello there! Come to say hi?”

So the clicking sound had been the dolphin’s cry! He’d have to thank the dolphin later for saving his hide.

Colette laughed, the sound as refreshing as the sea spray, as the dolphin bumped its snout into her open palm. “You’re a playful one, aren’t you?” she whispered, patting its rubbery head. “Hm, I think I’ll name you Tim. Do you like the name?”

The dolphin proceeded to swim one rapid round, seemingly expressing its joy. It leapt into the air before diving back into the water, the slap of its tail spraying the both of them with a faceful of salt.

“I think it likes it,” Lloyd said. He couldn’t help but smile - even as he blinked seawater out of his eyes - content to watch Colette play with the dolphin. Naming the dolphins was so inherently... Colette.

That was when a second dolphin appeared, emitting equally enthusiastic cries as it joined the first. The two swam around each other happily, squeaking and clicking, with what appeared to be smiles on both of their faces that revealed rows of teeth.

“I think Tim and Robert are friends!” Colette exclaimed, clapping her hands together. She had come up with a second name on the spot. Impressive. “How sweet.”

“They’re… They’re coming back,” Lloyd noted in surprise, staring at the two rapidly approaching dolphins gliding through the ocean. The two sea creatures came to an abrupt stop before him and Colette, both clicking out an unknown message.

“I wonder what it is they want,” Colette mused, reaching out a gentle hand to stroke Robert’s fin. Only to be met with enthusiastic clicking, Tim bobbing its head up-and-down in what Lloyd interpreted as a nod.

“Huh.” This was probably going to sound dumb, but it was the only thing that came to Lloyd’s mind. “I… I think they want us to ride them?”

As if they could comprehend what Lloyd was saying, the two dolphins burst out into a cacophony of cries, shocking even Colette.

“I think you hit the nail on the head!” Colette kicked off her sandals, the two shoes landing on a haphazard pile on the sand, before grabbing his right hand in both of hers. She did it with no hesitation at all, the warmth of her hands seeping into his. He didn’t know how she did it, but he never wanted her to stop.

“Come on! This will be so much fun!” she cried, tugging him along, the bracelet around her right wrist jangling. She was the brightest thing before him, brighter even than the sun, her smile lighting up his chest with fireworks.

He would follow her anywhere. Anywhere in the whole wide world.

“Let’s not keep Tim and Robert waiting!”

~~~

“I wish you would have told us about the dolphins,” Arche grumbled, sitting up on the beach towel that formed her seat and hugging her knees to her chest. Genis was squatting next to her, continuing to work on the turtle sandcastle that had won the pair the spontaneously-held sandcastle competition. And rightfully so, considering how intricate the design was - complete with grooves on the shell and accurately shaped flippers.

Colette wondered how the turtle continued to stand on such a narrow base, however. Shouldn’t it have collapsed by now? Sand wasn’t this stable, was it? How did Genis do it?

“Sorry,” she apologised, plopping down under the shade of the umbrella that the two half-elves had commandeered. Her legs were still slightly shaky from the thrill of the past half-hour. “I was too engrossed and forgot entirely.”

It had been so much fun to navigate the seas on the back of an energetic dolphin with Lloyd by her side, catching the waves and speeding along the currents, feeling the sea breeze kiss her face. The cries of the dolphins and Lloyd’s laughter had filled her ears, his delighted smile carved into her memory. He’d even challenged her to a race, one that had ended in a draw as both Tim and Robert reached the shore at the same time. She and Lloyd had stumbled back onto the sand at that moment, her head spinning from all the tight turns they’d made. His arms had steadied her, as Lloyd always did, as she had turned and waved goodbye to the dolphins before they sped away.

“I’ll definitely tell you next time!” Colette promised. Arche and Genis should get to know the magical experience as well. And she would love to do it again.

Maybe she’d get to see Tim and Robert again! That would be great.

Genis not-so-discreetly elbowed Arche in the side, raising three fingers into the air and shaking his head.

“Ah, you’re right, Genis. Never mind, Colette, it’s alright. I’m actually somewhat glad.” Arche nodded sagely, having understood Genis’ symbolism perfectly. She flopped back down onto the towel, resting her head on her crossed arms. “I would have died so young from third-wheeling.”

“What does that even mean?” Colette asked, half-ready to place her hands on Arche’s shoulders and shake the answers out of her friend. It was bad enough that Arche and Genis seemed to be sharing an inside joke, but they also kept using these mysterious terms that Colette couldn’t wrap her head around! Even Lloyd seemed to be in on it.

“Don’t mind them!” Lloyd hurriedly interjected, slipping his feet into his sandals. Was he… blushing again?

What was happening?!!

Colette pouted. Fine. She’d drop it for now. But she’d find out one day, she swore.

“So. Shall we play a game of volleyball?” Arche asked. “Our sandcastle competition fell apart from the beginning, and…” Arche reached blindly into a backpack that the half-elf had magically procured out of somewhere, for Colette did not remember her bringing it to the beach. Arche triumphantly pulled out a colourful beach ball, all without budging from her lazy position. “...it’s the perfect use for this!”

“Sure. You’re on,” Lloyd replied, grinning. “I bet me and Colette can beat you any day.”

“And you two are automatically on the same team.” Arche finally sat up, raising one eyebrow before dropping it immediately. “Why am I even surprised? Anyway, you sure you want to make that bet?”

Genis sighed, setting down his shovel. He was not looking forward to all the physical exertion, but he knew he’d get dragged into it whether or not he agreed. Might as well indulge his friends. “Don’t try to be cocky, Arche. Lloyd may be the dumbest idiot in the world, but he is strong.”

“Oh, you’re right…”

“Yeah! See? I’d beat you - Wait, Genis!” Lloyd shouted, having finally processed that his friend had insulted him.

Colette paid no mind to the childish jabs her two childhood friends were busy exchanging. Rather, she was deep in thought about how to make the upcoming volleyball game more fun. Genis would get tired fairly quickly, and she’d rather let him rest instead of forcing himself to continue. But that would make the teams unbalanced, and who knew how long Arche and Lloyd could continue playing for?

The solution…

Ah!

“Can I invite Misella and her friends?” Colette perked up, raising her arm like she was answering one of Professor Raine’s questions. She’d come up with a brilliant idea, and she wanted to share it! “Since they’re here at the beach, they might as well join in the fun!”

“I mean… I don’t see why not?” Arche shrugged.

“The more the merrier!” Lloyd agreed.

“Okay then, I’m off!” Colette scrambled to her feet, quickly brushing down her bare legs. “I’ll bring them back here.”

Colette sprinted towards where she remembered Misella was, becoming nothing more than a blur of yellow and red that zoomed past other people. She spotted a familiar head of pink hair and adjusted her path.

Misella was standing with her back to Colette, her arms crossed across her chest. The person who had been in the process of being buried was now fully covered with a massive mound of sand, arms laying slack as if in resignation.

As Colette neared the group of five, the sound of enraged shouting reached her ears. Oh no, was there some argument going on?

All Colette could make out was the word “bazongas”. She had no clue what that meant, for she had never heard it before. Perhaps it was some mysterious creature, befitting of such a unique name. She’d just ask Professor Raine later!

What Colette did know was the chain of unfortunate events that unfolded within the next few minutes. It was such a short time, and yet it was packed to the brim with frantic activity, seeming to stretch into eternity.

Colette spotted Misella raise her arm, a bird of flame coming to life and rearing its head gloriously. She absent-mindedly registered in a small section of her mind that the phoenix was gorgeous, elegant and regal. A perfect match for someone like Misella.

The rest of her mind was focused on all-consuming worry.

Lloyd, Genis and Arche tended to get into arguments a lot. They were always playful, however, never malicious in nature. And they most certainly did not stray into full-on fights with intent to injure. At most, Genis would hit Lloyd lightly in the shoulder, while Arche hit a little harder by slapping the same spot.

Friends shouldn’t hurt one another! She staunchly believed in that! So whatever disagreement Misella and her friends had gotten into, they should resolve it peacefully. Not with red-hot flames!

“Mise - Ah!” Colette was interrupted mid-shout as her foot caught on… absolutely nothing. There was nothing in the sand - not a pebble, not a fragment of a seashell, not a handle of a stray, forgotten shovel. She had tripped over thin air.

The mystery of how Colette had fallen, while intriguing, was not the most important thing.

Rather, it was the immediate consequence of her fall, as it usually was.

Misella, too wrapped up in yelling at Vicious, didn’t hear Colette’s approach at all. The others took notice of the girl flailing her arms in warning far too late, identical expressions of alarm crossing their faces as they stepped forward in a futile attempt to stop the inevitable collision.

“Now burn - Eek!” Misella let out a surprised squeak of her own as Colette’s outstretched arms slammed into Misella’s back, sending them both careening towards the sand.

Unfortunately, this was also the moment wherein Misella released her scorching flames.

And you can guess how that ended.

~~~

“First of all. Lloyd, what are you wearing?” Raine groaned, dragging a tired hand down her face. As the responsible, and only, adult of the group, it had fallen to her to retrieve the frolicking children from the beach before the day got too late, and shepherd them back to the inn. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be leaving this town on time. Or ever.

If Raine was to be truly responsible, she should have been supervising them the entire time. After all, there was no telling what consequences Arche’s shenanigans would usher in, nor the problems that Lloyd’s stupidity could cause, nor the calamities that Colette could trip her way into. Genis, bless her little brother’s poor soul, would try his best, but he was nowhere near intimidating enough to get a handle on all three of them.

But there was no way anyone was going to convince her to spend her afternoon at the beach, passing each second petrified by terror and staring at the slowly approaching waters, waiting for the ocean to swallow her whole. She still wanted to let Lloyd, Colette and Genis experience the beach, however. Colette, especially, had been deprived of a childhood for far too long.

So Raine had happily traipsed off to the library for a few hours of quality reading, convinced that even these trio of troublemakers (and Genis tagging along) couldn’t get into that much trouble in such a short time.

And she’d come back to this mess.

“Is this really relevant, Professor? And why does everyone feel the need to bring this up?”

“Because it’s appalling! I taught you better than this!”

Genis and Arche, sitting on a nearby stone wall and observing the proceedings with identical deadpan expressions, let out a synchronised snicker. Though they quickly shut up when Raine glared at them. They did value their lives.

“That’s NOT the point, Professor! Don’t we have more pressing issues to deal with?”

"Then to get to the point… Colette," Raine forced through gritted teeth, the last word pointed. These kids were really something…

"Yes, Professor Raine?" Colette laughed in a higher pitch than usual, clasping her hands behind her back as sweat ran down her brow. Both because of nerves, and because of... Well... The situation behind her.

It was really, really hot. Not to mention the group of five arguing close-by, the boy who had finally managed to extricate himself from the sand desperately patting at his originally silver hair, which now had blackened tips. It might also have been… significantly shorter than it used to be, and certainly more jagged.

Raine sighed, brow furrowing in exasperation. She could feel the beginnings of a pounding headache.

"I left the four of you for three hours. Why is the beach on fire?"

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Cheryl//she means everything to me

Request: Can I request a Cheryl Blossom request where the reader is Archie's twin (a girl) and a super close with her brother and his friends so she doesn't like Cheryl but one day she finds Cheryl crying over Jason and comforts her so Cheryl falls for her and becomes like her best friends has her join the vixens constantly by her side and eventually the reader falls for her and like a super fluffy ending please ps I really love everything you write

hey! i had so much fun writing this, you have no idea! its also super gay!

“Well would you look at that, the sad breakfast club have reunited at lunch.” Cheryl’s cheery voice stops all conversations happening and everyone turns to look at her, her red hair blows softly in slight breeze and her eyes twinkle with whatever chaos she’s going to cause today. 

“What do you want Cheryl?” Betty is the first to speak, dropping her fork on her tray as you all wait for her to start her insults. 

“Well, cousin, I actually wanted to see how you were. But however, if you’re going to be like that.” She clears her throat before narrowing her eyes. “Betty, your ponytail is wonky and that sweater really washes you out, your hobo of a boyfriend really needs a bath because well, I can smell him from here, or maybe thats just the ridiculously childish hat he refuses to take off. Archie, you’re hair is so ridiculously bright today, its actually blinding me, and it looks like you’ve put enough product in to drown all the little lice that lives in it, Veronica that dress was popular last season, and the shoes a decade ago, and Y/n, I actually didn’t realize you were here. Like I kind of forgot that you existed for a few minutes. What’s it like in your brothers shadow?” She finishes her little speech with a bright smile and the five of you sigh before starting to eat again. You can never read Cheryl, one day she can be sweet and lovely and want to help, the next she’s the worst person you’ll ever meet. 

“Probably a lot nicer than being in yours...I can imagine Jason’s shadow is particularly cold.” Veronica retorts and your eyes widen in surprise...that was cold, even for Veronica. Archie smiles proudly at his girlfriend and presses a soft kiss to her head while the rest of the table laugh, including yourself, all 5 of you ignoring Cheryl as she turns on her heel and storms off. 

“Lovely talking to you!” Jughead calls after her causing you all to laugh even louder. 

“Will she ever stop being a bitch?” You wonder aloud and the laughing pauses, giving everyone a chance to look at each other for a few seconds before you start giggling again. 

“I don’t think its possible for Cheryl to be anything other.” Your brother replies through a mouthful of sandwich and you nod in reply. 

-----

“Do you wanna ride Y/n?” Archie shouts across the parking lot as he gestures to the truck behind him. Veronica is already in the passenger seat scrolling through her phone and you so desperately want to go with them, even if they’ll do gross things in Archie’s room until your mom gets back from work, but today apparently is not your day,

“If I’m not back when mom gets home tell her that I haven’t been kidnapped or murdered, I’m just going to be late because Cheryl set her Vixens out for revenge and they’ve stolen my bag so I get to play a fun game of hide-and-seek with all my stuff.” You huff, blowing a piece of hair from your face as your shoulder slump in defeat. The fact that you could be spending up to a few hours extra at this stupid school actually hitting you, and Archie gives you a sympathetic look in response to your frown. 

“Do you need some help?” He offers but you shake your head. You don’t want to drag him into this, plus you can imagine the Vixens are already planning what they’re going to do to him and the rest of your friends, so you may-as-well give him some peace while he can get it. 

“Nah, I’m sure I’ll be fine. I was always the best at finding things when we were younger.” You shrug. “Plus, you don’t want to keep your girlfriend waiting.” You nod towards Veronica who’s hanging her head out the passenger window. 

“I suppose not.” He replies, a soft smile playing on his lips as he looks back at his girlfriend and you can’t help but feel a little sad. You’re glad Archie and Veronica have finally worked everything out and are madly in love, but a small part of you feels left behind. 

Practically all of your friends are in relationships or are dating, leaving you to be the odd one out at literally any get together. However you have very limited options when it comes to dating, there’s not a lot of queer girls in Riverdale, or even the surrounding towns, at least not a lot of them are out and the ones that are you don’t really like that much. *cough* Cheryl *cough*. And no matter how hard your friends try to set you up with someone, they always seems to pick the worst people. No matter how many times you tell them what your type is. 

Three weeks ago Veronica set you up with a girl who came into Pop’s a lot and the only reason she went on a date with you is because she liked Veronica and wanted to know her ‘deal’. Which you can imagine she was very surprised when you told her she was dating your twin brother...yikes. 

Maybe you should join a convent. Or get one of those apps that Kevin uses, but only weirdos...and Kevin are on those types of apps. And do they even have them for gay girls. 

You ponder your options as you walk behind the bleachers, humming a song you heard in the car this morning as you go. You’re also trying to figure out how to get back at Cheryl and her minions when you hear sniffling coming from a little further ahead of you. Stopping in your tracks you look up and towards the noise to see none other than Cheryl Blossom crying by herself. Thankfully she hasn’t seen you yet and and you quickly look around to see how far your escape is. You're about to turn on your heels when the nice side of you decides to show up, unfortunately. 

God, why do I have to have a conscious.  

You take a deep breath and send a prayer to literally anybody listening that she doesn’t bite your head off, before you slowly make your way towards the red-head. 

“Cheryl?” Your voice shakes with uncertainty and as soon as she hears someone say her name her head lifts up and she’s wiping the tears from her eyes, a look of distain taking over the previous sad expression. 

“What do you want Andrews?” She spits and looks you up and down.

You decided to ignore her tone, and try to keep your nice one as you continue your conversation. “Are you okay?” 

“Just fine.” She crosses her arms over her chest and her jaw locks as she looks away from you. 

“Are you sure?” You ask and sit on the floor a few feet away from her. “Because, you don’t seem it.” 

“What’s it to you anyway?” She snaps and you roll your eyes. 

“You’re right. It is none of my business.” You sigh and stand up, dusting your jeans off once your stood. “I hope you feel better soon.” 

“Y/n?” She calls after you and you huff before turning around. “I’m sorry.” Your eyes widen at the words thats just come of of her mouth and you need to sit down.

“What?!” Your jaw drops and she rolls her eyes at you. “Did you actually just apologize to me?” 

“Yes, but I can take it back if you want.” She mutters and you force a smile away as you sit down beside her again, this time a tiny bit closer to her than before but she doesn’t seem to mind, instead your pretty sure she shuffles a little closer to you too. 

“Sorry.” You mumble and a small smile appears on her face. 

“Did you just apologize?” She mocks and you giggle a little. 

“Okay, I deserved that.” You nod. “Do you want to talk about why you’re sat on the floor behind the bleachers after everyone has gone home, crying?” 

“Well, when you put it so delicately, sure.” She replies and you send her a look. “I miss Jason.” 

“Oh.” You say and look at the your hands. You’re not really sure what to say to that. It’s not like you can bring him back, or even take away her pain. As much as you don’t like her, Cheryl’s been through an awful lot. Far more than anybody else and you can’t help but feel slightly sorry for her. 

“Yep.” She take a quick glance at you before deciding to look straight ahead. An idea pops into your head and you sit up a little before looking at her. 

“What do you miss about him?” 

“What?” She furrows her brows as she looks at you and you take a deep breath before explaining. 

“Well, in my experience...it kind of helps to talk about what you miss about them. Because it doesn’t push away the fact that they’re gone, and it also helps me remember the best bits about them. So even though it always stings, overall it makes me feel a little better. If that makes sense?” 

“Yeah.” She nods and you can tell she’s thinking about what you’ve just said. “I get that. That was surprisingly insightful for you.” 

“Thanks.” You laugh and she giggles a little. “So what do you miss about him?” 

“I miss...how he always used to tell me stupid jokes whenever mom or dad had been mean to me or if they’d argued.” She smiles a little at the memory, despite the sad undertones and you can’t help but think how brave Cheryl actually is. “And how when we were younger we used to share a room and he would always tell me bedtime stories. Usually after my mom had come in and told us scary ones. As soon as he’d hear her walk down the stairs he would slip out of his bed and climb into mine and tell me magical stories, usually involving the two of us. We’d be superheroes or we’d live in a caste and we’d be happy.” 

“Thats sweet.” 

“Yeah. He was. He was just the best. He always looked after me, no matter what. None of his friends were aloud to make fun of me no matter how old we were, and when I didn’t have many friends when I was younger he’d make sure I never felt lonely...he was a good person.” 

“He was yeah.” You nod in agreement. “When I was about ten, he was playing football with a bunch of his friends and I was walking past them, trying to get away from them as soon as possible. He ended up throwing the ball and it hit me right in the end making me fall over. And instead of laughing, he ran over to me and he said sorry while helping me up. Then he took me to the nurses office and waited with me until my dad picked me up.” You smile flickers for a moment at the mention of your father and Cheryl seems to pick up on it, placing a gentle hand on your arm making you smile a little. “If that was any other boy, they would have laughed. But no, he helped me and I think that sums up Jason perfectly.” 

“Yeah. It really does.” She looks at you properly, for what is probably the first time ever and she feels her breathing quicken. How was she ever mean to you? Your eyes are sparkling in the sunlight as you talk about the very few memories of Jason, and she has to fight the urge to cry. Nobody apart from her brother has ever been this nice to her, and after Jason’s death, nobody really said anything nice about him, they usually just talked about the theories surrounding his murder. 

A soft smile dances across your lips, the corners of your lips curled upwards and she feels herself mirroring it. Your hair blows a little in the slight breeze and you tuck the stray bits behind your ear, leaving the rest to fall around your face. She giggles when your nose scrunches up at a particularly gross part of a story involving puke and a swimming pool and she frowns when you stop laughing, due to a sad part in a story that also involves your father. She just wants to wrap her arms around you and forget about the entire world and all of the horrible things in it. 

“Did that help?” You ask and she nods, a sweet smile on her lips as she looks at you. 

“Yeah...thanks.” 

“No problem!” You reply, a bright grin on your face and she feels her heart flutter at the sight. She’s never really seen you smile like this, and even if she has caught a glimpse of it, its never directed at her. She feels like she needs to go back in time and right all of those wrongs because she needs to see you smile like that more often. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, why exactly were you skulking around the bleachers in the first place?” 

“Oh. I was looking for my bag.” 

“How’d you lose a whole bag?” She laughs but when she notices you looking at her, your eyebrows raised, she remembers how you could lose a whole bag. “Oh, yeah. Sorry about that.” 

“You can make it up to me by telling me where it is.” You nudge her shoulder and she grimaces. 

“Yeahhh. About that. You’re not going to like where they put it.” 

“Where did they put it?” You narrow your eyes at her. 

“The bin...in the cafeteria.” 

“Damn.” You sigh. “Well, I suppose it needed a wash anyway.” 

“Sorry.” She sighs, looking at the floor. 

“Its fine.” You grab her hand and she looks at you surprised making you pull your hand away (much to her disappointment). “I kind of deserved it. What Veronica said was pretty harsh and I didn’t say anything.” 

“No, no. You didn’t say it, you didn’t say anything actually. I was really mean to you and you just took it. I’m so sorry.” 

“If it makes you feel any better I did call you a bitch after you left.” You shrug and she looks at your surprised. 

“You know.” She stands up and dusts her skirt off, offering you a hand afterwards. “That does kind of make me feel a little better.” 

“I’m glad.” You grin and let her pull you up. 

“I can help you find your bag and then give you a lift home...thats if you want to.” She trails off at the end, she never feels nervous, but suddenly you’re making her more nervous than she’s ever felt before. 

“Sure.” You nod. “You can tell me more stories about Jason if you want.” You ask and its only now that you realize you’re still holding her hand. You mumble a quick sorry and let go before starting to walk away. “You coming?” You look back at her and she swears her heart actually skips a beat as she stares at you, the sun behind you makes you look ethereal, and she’s always believed in angels, but its only now that she’s actually seen one. 

“Yeah.” She nods. “Y/n?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I don’t think anybody could forget that you existed.” 

especially not me...not now

-----

“Did you find your bag honey?” Your mom asks as you walk into the kitchen. 

“Mom. You’re back early.” You smile awkwardly at her and then to Archie, who’s stood on the other end of the kitchen with a worried expression on his face. It doesn’t take you a minute to figure out Veronica is upstairs and he’s trying to sneak her out. 

“Well, yeah.” She nods and takes a sip of coffee. “I was finished my work and I wanted to spend time with my babies.” She pinches your cheek softly making you roll your eyes. Archie is still looking towards the door and you can hear the slight creaks of the floorboards as Veronica tries to sneak down the stairs. 

“I-” Archie is about to practically shout over the noise but your mom puts her hand up in the air, effectively stopping him. 

“Just tell her to come down. She can stay for dinner if she wants.” She shakes her head and sends you a quick smile making you giggle. 

“Right. Yes. Okay.” He nods and quickly makes his way to the stairs. There’s quiet mumbling before Veronica appears by his side in the doorway of the kitchen, both of them with sweet smiles as they look at your mom. 

“Hi, Mrs Andrews.” Veronica waves. “Hey Y/n. Did you find your bag?” 

“Yeah. It was in a bin.” You shrug and they all look at you. 

“Honey, why would someone do that? Do you want me to call the school?” 

“Its fine mom.” You shake your head. “Its just Cheryl and her friends.” 

“Well we should talk to someone. They can’t go around putting people’s belongings in the bin. The law clearly state-” 

“Mom.” You interrupt her as you sit at the table. “Its fine. She was actually very sorry about it.” 

“What!?!” Both Veronica and Archie’s jaws drop while they look at you wide-eyed. 

“Cheryl was sorry?” Veronica asks in disbelief. 

“Yeah.” You shrug. “She helped me look for it.” 

“Yeah. I don’t believe that in the slightest.” She replies. 

“Definitely. She’s got something planned. And its big.” Archie agrees. 

“Or she could just be being nice. That does actually happen you know.” You reply and he laughs sarcastically. 

“Yeah, I don’t think she knows how to be nice. Why are you even defending her? Earlier today you asked if she would ever stop being a bitch.” 

“Archie! Language!” Your mom scolds and the two of your roll your eyes. 

“That was before I had an actual conversation with her instead of insulting her. Which is what you do.” 

“I don’t insult her, Veronica insults her.” He replies.

“Archie!” Veronica slaps him arm lightly and he mumbles a quick apology. 

“Yeah, but you don’t do anything to stop the insults.” 

“Neither do you.” He retorts and you cross your arms. 

“Well, I’m doing it right now s-” 

“Okay!” Your mom shouts instantly shutting everyone up. “Thats enough. We’re going to have a nice family dinner and we’re going to enjoy each others company. Now stop shouting at each other. And say sorry.” 

It takes a few seconds and a lot of glares and huffs but eventually you say sorry to each other and Archie sits on the opposite side of the table of you, followed quickly by Veronica. 

“Do you like Cheryl?” He mouths while your mom is plating up the food and when she isn’t looking you make sure to kick him under the table, earning a death glare from him. 

“God no.” You huff, scrunching your face up which makes him laugh. 

maybe a little

-----

“Here comes the she-devil.” Jughead mumbles quietly and you all look in the direction that he was nodding to. Cheryl is walking towards your table, with a look you’ve never really seen before. Not one thats directed at your friends anyway. She looks happy. A lot different to how you found her yesterday and you’re glad she’s not as sad, a smile really suits her. 

“Oh god.” Veronica mumbles as she takes a sip from her drink. “Hey, did we tell you where she hid Y/n’s bag yesterday?” She asks, lowering her voice as Cheryl gets closer and Betty and Jughead shake their heads, leaning further towards her. “In the cafeteria bin.” 

“Gross.” Betty scrunches her face up. 

“Thats just unhygienic.” Jughead adds.

“You’re telling me.” Veronica replies. “Mrs Andrews had to wash it three times to get the smell of the soup out.” 

“Ewww.” They laugh and you send them a quick glare before looking at Cheryl. 

“Greetings fellow students.” Cheryl stops in front or your table and the laughter stops. You swear you can see a flicker of sadness flash through her eyes and you decide to quickly change the subject. 

“Cheryl!” You smile brightly at her and the sadness you thought you saw disappears completely. Its not everyday that somebody has been this happy to see her and she decides to grab it with both hands. 

All night she was up thinking about you, thinking about how she could have gone so long not noticing you, and how she needs to make sure everybody notices you. Everyone needs to know about you. Y/n Andrews, the girl who could take some of Cheryl Blossom’s sadness away, something that has never been done before. 

“Hi Cheryl.” Betty greets her and she forces a polite smile to look at your friends, making it a little bigger as she looks at your brother. 

“Hi.��� She replies. “Can I sit?” She’s now looking back at you, pointing to the seat beside you and you nod, quickly moving down so she can sit beside you. Archie huffs as he’s pushed off the end of the table and he quickly grabs a seat so he can sit back down. 

“Are you feeling any better today?” You voice is quiet, barely above a whisper as you ask her a question and she can’t help but fall a little more for you, because you didn’t shout her business, not like everybody else does. You made sure only she could hear you. 

“Yeah.” She nods. “Much better. I still miss him, but it doesn’t hurt as much.” 

“I’m glad.” You smile. “Anyway.” Your voice is louder and the quiet mumbles from your friends have stopped. “Can we help you with anything?” 

“Yes actually! Y/n, how would you feel about joining the Vixens?” Her smile is warm and kind but the words that have just come from her lips make your bold run cold. Your friends look at each other before looking back at you and you can feel yourself getting hotter and hotter. 

“I don’t know Cheryl.” You start, your voice nervous as you try and find the best way to let her down gently. She’s only started being nice to you but you’d rather stick forks in your eyes than be a cheerleader, not with them anyway. They’re mean and rude and they think they’re better than everyone...but you’re not going to say that to Cheryl, so instead you decide on something a little nicer. “It’s just not really my type of thing. Plus, I don’t think they really like me.” 

“Can you imagine, Y/n as a cheerleader.” Archie chuckles making you and Cheryl roll your eyes. 

“Whats wrong with being a cheerleader?” Cheryl asks and crosses her arms. 

“Yeah, Archie. Or are you forgetting that your girlfriend is a Vixen?” You add and Cheryl sends you a small smile which makes your head feel a little fuzzy. 

“There’s nothing wrong with being a Vixen. But Y/n being a Vixen is just funny.” 

“And why is that dear brother?” You raise an eyebrow and he gulps. He mumbles a quick ‘nothing’, before going back to eating. 

“I really do think you should at least try-out. I think you’ll be great. Plus, if any of the girls say anything, which they won’t, they’ll have me to answer to.” She explains and you think about it for a minute. Would it be really bad to be part of the school’s cheerleading squad. The reasonable part of your brain is saying, more like screaming, yes its the worst idea in the world. But the slightly less reasonable and the slightly more gay part is screaming hell yeah. Surrounded by wonderful, smart if not slightly intimidating girls...plus, Cheryl!

“Fine.” You give in. “I’ll try out.” 

“Yay!” She claps her hands excitedly before standing up and brushing her hair over her shoulder. The small gesture has you mesmerized and you have to force yourself to remember where you are in order to regain all your thoughts, the number one being, ‘what the hell was that about?’ “I’ll see you after school! Goodbye Y/n.” She waves at you before starting to walk away and its only when Betty clears her throat that she turns around again to wave everybody else off. 

Your brother decides to wait until she’s out of earshot until he starts talking again, and the first thing he says is something that doesn’t really surprise you. 

“Y/n and Cheryl, kissing in a tree.” He teases, making a kissy face and you throw a handful of food at him. The rest of your friends let out the laughter they’ve been holding in and you roll your eyes so hard you swear they’re going to fall out. 

“How old are you?” You huff. 

“Old enough to see that Cheryl fancies you.”  

“Shut up!” 

-----

Cheryl didn’t just fancy you. 

She liked you. 

Actually she was head over heels, doodling your initials in a heart, mind goes fuzzy anytime she sees you, in love with you. 

And you? Well, you were none the wiser. 

You just thought she was being friendly. Maybe more than the average person but Cheryl hasn’t had many close friends so maybe this is the only way she knows how to keep them. 

She’s holding your hand? She just wants to make sure you know you’re not alone. Her hugs are a bit longer than normal? Come on, the girl deserves a long hug. She always finds a way to include you in conversation? She’s just being sweet. 

Yes, Cheryl Blossom was becoming a slightly more bearable person, and it only seemed to happen when you were around. Leaving everyone to have their own conspiracies. 

Archie’s was of course that she was in love with you. “Yeah right. Like that would happen Archie.” 

Veronica’s was that it was one long prank to get back at everyone who’d hurt her. “Veronica, thats just sociopathic.” 

Betty’s was slightly less weird, that she probably just wants to make a friend and so she’s being overly nice to fool people into thinking she hasn’t got a heart made of ice. “Thats just mean.” 

And Jughead’s was that she’d either been possessed by a poltergeist. “Aren’t they supposed to be mean?” Or, that she’d been taken over by aliens. “I think they’d have better things to do than make Cheryl nice.” 

Plus there was all of the other ridiculous rumors flying around school, but she either seemed to not hear or just ignore them. 

“Y/n. Are you even listening to me?” You’re pulled back down to earth by Cheryl waving her hands in front of your face. 

“What? Yeah. Huh?” You ask and she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“I was talking you through the routine for Friday. You know the whole reason why we’re in the gym after school.” 

“Yes. Yes. I remember.” You stand and she shakes her head, despite the smile thats threatening to ruin her facade. 

“Okay.” She stands beside you. “Are you watching?” She asks and glances at you, a smile making its way onto her face as she watches you go over the steps in your head. Your frowning slightly at you try to remember the steps and she can’t help but giggle a little as your arms start to move to. 

“What?” You ask. 

“Nothing.” She shakes her head. “Ready?” 

“Ye-” 

“Good.” She nods. The music starts and she begins to go through the steps, you following a step behind her. However half way through you get distracted by the way she’s moving and then it hits you. 

I’m in love with with Cheryl Blossom. 

“Shit.” You mumble and she turns around quickly. 

“Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, I erm. I just got a bit distracted. Sorry.” 

“Its fine.” She smiles brightly. “Lets go again, I’ll help you this time.” 

“You’re already helping me.” You reply and she rolls her eyes. 

“I’ll help you even more.” She hits your arm lightly and your heart goes hay-wire at the small interaction. “Stand there.” You do as she says and the next thing you know she’s stood behind you were her hands on your hips. 

“Wha-at, are you doing?” You stutter, your breathing getting quicker with each second. Her perfume is suffocating you, but in the best way and her breath is hot on your neck as she leans over you a little. 

“He-helping.” She replies, also stuttering a bit and your swear you hear her breath hitch when you move your head to look at her. Your lips are millimeters away from hers, and if you leaned in just a little more you’d be kissing her, something you really want to do right now. You wonder what her lips would feel like against yours, how soft they’d be and if her lipstick would stain you, forever leaving a mark on you. “Y/n?” 

“Yeah?” Your eyes flicker up to meet hers and it feels like she’s staring directly into your soul. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

“Absolutely.” You reply and within seconds her lips are on yours, her hands gripping your waist tightly to turn you around. What you thought kissing Cheryl would be like, and actually kissing Cheryl, are completely different. Her lips are softer than you could ever imagine. Her lipstick tastes like cherries with a hint of maple syrup and you don’t think pancakes are ever going to taste the same again. 

You both pull away, a bright blush on both of your faces and she giggles a little as she wipes the lipstick from the side of your face. But it doesn’t matter, she left a mark on you that day behind the bleachers, and you don’t think you’re ever going to be the same again...not that you’d really want to be. 

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Two Fathers

More writing stuff. Not sure how far I was going to take this since no one is really interested.

The Netherlands

The roar of the crowd thundered over into the bright blue sky over the soccer stadium. Dominic was so high up in the stands that the players looked like tiny puppets running about the green pitch, following the rolling white ball and sprinting after it in white and blue jerseys. The match was 0 and 0 for the entire game. The goalies on both sides were too good. Neither team could slip in and score no matter how they tried. The sun was beating down on the exhausted crowd who was ready for anyone to score at this point. 

Dominic wiped his face on his shirt. Locally, he and his father were supposed to be rooting for the blue team. Not the white, but he really didn’t care. The important thing was being out having fun and sharing a beer with his dad on a summer day.

There wouldn’t be many more days like this. He’d gotten approved for a college in the UK and sitting in his room on the nightstand under a poster of a heavy metal band was a one way ticket to London. He had gotten a scholarship to study engineering and would spend the next eight years pursuing a doctorate. His hope was to become a civil engineer. His dream was to build and work on bridges. His father was an experienced crane operator. The idea of weight and balance and counterbalance fascinated him. And wouldn’t it be great if, after graduating, he and his father could work on the same project? The remotest possibility of that fantasy was a ways off. Even then, he would have to graduate early to make it out of college before his father retired.

The players charged towards the goal and the crowd roared encouragement, but again, the goalie caught the shot and the noise went down to a disappointed murmur.

Dominic’s father, a heavy set man in his early fifties, took him to games quite often. He was wearing a jersey for the team and a baseball cap that compressed his sweat soaked hair. He wiped his face with a cloth and stuffed it in his back pocket.

The weather was unseasonably hot. This wasn’t an area where most people were concerned about summer heat. In the past, if things got warm in the home, an open window and box fan would suffice. But now, the news was full of stories of the elderly suffering heat stroke in their homes and lying dead for days before they were found. In the city, venues like the soccer stadium were often the only relief from the heat. You could drive an hour out to get to the beach or thirty minutes in the other direction if you wanted to find a swimming pool. But in response to the heat wave, the soccer stadium enticed guests with free cups of ice and water and the soda fountains were a reduced price for season ticket holders.

However, the heat was starting to defeat even this strategy. Three times games were canceled because it was just too hot to be safe for the players. The result was a backlog of games, disappointed fans, and dodgy scheduling. If you didn’t have a ticket in advance, you would have a hard time getting one. People who had tickets for postponed games could redeem them for a future game. So now the empty seats were filled with fans who had missed games a week ago. When this game came up, his father was on the computer, spamming the refresh key until he managed to snag these seats. He kept them as a surprise.

The players filed out of the field for a brief time out. “All this trouble for a double-aught game.” Dominic said regretfully. “Did you want me to go get a refill?”.

He watched his father reach into his back pocket and pull out his cellphone and he saw his father’s eyes go wide. His face paled despite the summer heat. Dominic straightened in alarm. “What’s the matter?”

His father took one breath and then another. “There’s a problem.” He began and then stopped. “A big one. At work.”

“Are you serious? Ugh.” He rolled his eyes. “It really can’t wait?”

His father licked his lips and stared blankly at the empty field. His chest was rising and falling rapidly even though he wasn’t moving. A few more text messages came in but he didn’t look at them. He just put the phone into his back pocket, silent. It was like he had turned completely wooden.

“Are you alright…?” Dominic asked softly.

The man swallowed, his throat bobbing. He took a quick breath. “Yes. Well, then… I have to go.” He stood up, not looking his son in the eye.

“I’ll go with you!” Dominic rose but his father shook his head. 

“No. I’ll order an Uber for you.” He wrote down quickly on the back of a white paper napkin. “Here is the license plate number. It will be a red car with tinted windows.”

His father gave his shoulder a squeeze. “I’m sorry.” He said, before he hurried out of the stands and up the stairs.

The crowd of people, exhausted from the heat and the long game, filed out of the stadium. Dominic lifted his phone and checked for any missed calls or messages, but there were none. His father didn’t call him back or return his texts. His mother didn’t either. The stadium opened into a large plaza between it and the parking lot and lines of ice cream trucks had already started to attract customers. Normally, Dominic never would have passed up ice cream, but worry about what was going on at his father’s job kept him from joining the line. 

The Uber ride should be waiting to take him home. 

The sun was sinking lower in the sky, blazing a dull red thanks to the wild fires that were burning thousands of miles away.  The crowd thinned as he got closer to the curb where the rideshare vehicles were permitted to idle and wait for their clients. Dominic scanned the vehicles for a red car and found it.

He briefly paused and checked the license plate.

 “Dominic?” The man asked from the window.

He nodded. The driver got out and opened the backseat and then got back behind the wheel. Inside smelled of clean leather. It was cool, a welcome respite. “You know where I’m going?”

The driver had very broad shoulders and a square jaw and a short buzzcut of blonde hair. Despite the heat, he was wearing a blazer over his thin shirt.

“You’re in military training?” Dominic asked.

“You’ve got a sharp eye. Or is it that obvious?” The driver said as he turned the wheel of the car, carefully watching the road as they pulled away and started to drive through the expansive parking area full of gleaming cars. “I’m in the military now. Just making a bit of money while I’m on leave.”

“Military stipend not enough? Or does Uber really pay that well?” Dominic asked with a smirk. “Maybe I should sign up once I’m in London. For Uber I mean. Not the military.” 

He looked down at his phone again. There were no calls and texts but now that he was in the air conditioned space, he realized that he had no signal at all. He tried to text but the error popped up telling him his texts were not sent. He sighed. “What’s wrong with this phone?” 

He tried restarting it. He spent the time waiting for it to reboot staring out the windows at the line of people walking to their vehicles. A family with two children, one sleeping in a stroller and the other limp on his father’s shoulder, were getting into a minivan. The mother was on her phone. But when he looked down, his phone had restarted but once again had no signal. Maybe his dad had tried to call him but he was sitting on a dead phone all this time.

“Hey, can I use your phone?” He asked the driver.

“I’m afraid I can’t close the app or it will end the ride.” The driver said without looking back.

“Okay, I’ll get out and ask someone if I can use theirs.” They were already stopped in line to pay the toll to leave the parking lot, so he didn’t think anything of getting out to use someone else’s phone. But when he pulled the handle on the door, the door was stuck. “I think you have the child-lock on.”

The driver looked straight ahead, not acknowledging his words.

“Hey. Can you let me out?” The mother was getting into the van. She shut the door and the brake lights came on.

The man who was driving continued to look ahead, like he was some sort of robot and not responding to his commands.

“Hey! Can you not hear me? I said-...”

The man suddenly reached into his jacket and pulled out a black metal pistol. He pointed it at him without even turning around to look. The sight of the weapon sent a visceral fear through Dominic. He slammed himself against the door. “No! No!”

The muzzle flashed and something hit him. It stung, like a wasp sting he got at summer camp. 

“He shot me… He shot…” Dominic moaned.

The man put the gun away and turned around like nothing happened. Dominic felt dizzy and light headed. He turned to the window but no longer had the strength to call for help. His eyes slid shut and his world went from darkness to nothingness.

Dominic opened his eyes in a panic, immediately asking where he was. His mouth tasted like blood, his hands were tied to a post. He was lying on a bed. A piece of cloth between his teeth was so tight that it stretched the corner of his mouth. It hurt and bled. He jerked hard and the restraints around his hands tightened.

“He’s awake.”  A deep feminine voice attracted his attention. A woman in a black tightly woven combat suit stood up from a wooden chair that was placed against a stone foundation wall next to his bed. Her hair was dark and tied up in a ponytail at the nape of her neck that swayed between her shoulder blades as she walked. A black belt around her waist carried copper colored long, fang-like bullets. A long knife was at her hip. She wore black combat boots with thick treads that left a trail of wet tracks as she made her way to a door. She opened the door and a light lit up her face. Her nose was painted and long, her eyes dark and framed with thick lashes.

Above where she had sat was a thin dingy window covered with high grass. It was dark in this room save for the single bare yellow light bulb on the ceiling. His shirt was gone. His phone was gone. He gasped, struggling to breathe through his nose and around the cloth. He remembered being shot in the chest but he wasn’t even bleeding and there was no sign of any other wounds.

The man who had driven him and shot him cast a shadow as he walked in, swinging arms as thick as oak trees. He hadn’t noticed his eyes before, steely grey almost white. He was still in his cotton shirt but the jacket was gone and the holster was displayed with that same pistol. He pulled away until the zip ties bit into his wrists and his hands immediately became numb. He pulled and pulled as that man reached for his face. His thick fingers and cracked fingernails untied the gag. “Keep quiet and we won’t gag you.”

“What do you want? What … What do you want from me? My dad. He’s just a construction worker. He doesn’t have any money!” Dominic sobbed in fear. “Please. We don’t have any money!”

“Listen!” The man’s voice was sharp and cut through his panic. His face was inches from his and he could see a slight blond stubble and the remnants of a scar that crossed over his upper lip. That lip twisted in disgust revealing yellow teeth. His breath smelled like tobacco smoke. “The man you think is your father is not your father. That man ran away with you when you were young. We’re taking you back.”

“What?” 

“He was assigned to care for you as a toddler and escaped. I suppose he let his feelings get in the way of his duties.” The man reached up and adjusted the restraints to allow blood flow again. “Don’t struggle so much. You’ll cut your hands off.”

“No, you’ve got the wrong person.” Dominic blinked away the sweat rolling into his eyes. The returning blood gave him pins and needles as it pulsed through his wrists. The gag had soaked up all the moisture in his mouth. His throat was so dry he could barely swallow. He called out in a hoarse voice. “This is a mistake. My father can prove it. Just let me call him. Just give me my phone. Let me call him!”

The man and the woman looked at him with calm pity while he was gasping in panic. The woman crossed her arms over her chest. They looked at each other and Dominic held his breath.

“Let him talk to his father.” A low voice came from outside the door. The two people straightened up, their spines upright and stiff and they turned in attention. Immediately, the woman walked to the other side of the room where Dominic’s phone was on a charger.

“My phone isn’t working…” Dominic sniffed, suddenly aware he was crying.

“Your phone is fine.” She said. Her voice was soft and gentle as she approached him. “We jammed it to keep you from being tracked.” 

“Why?” He asked.

“I already told you.” She pressed his finger against the sensor to unlock the phone and scrolled down to his contacts. Then she held the phone to his ear.

The electronic sound of ringing could be heard through the earpiece and his mind raced. All he had to do was talk to his dad and he would clear all this up. But the phone just rang. As it did, another phone began to ring in the other room. It rang with his father’s ringtone, the song ‘Margaritaville.”

“Dad?!” His father’s phone was here? But he was supposed to have gone to work! Did they capture him here too? “Dad! You have to explain! Tell them… show them my papers!” He shouted at the door, towards the sound of the phone ringing.

Dominic looked at the woman desperately as she held the phone to his ear.

The deep voice from before echoed from outside the room. “Pick up the phone and talk to him. Tell him the truth.”

The phone picked up. He could hear his father’s voice both through the phone and in the other room, echoing each other. “Dominic. Are you hurt?”

“What is going on? Who are these people?”

The other end of the line was silent and no sound came from the other side of the room. Why wasn’t his father talking? He should be telling them that this is a mistake. He should be threatening them with legal action. He should be calling the cops. Why was he here? Were they holding him at gunpoint?

“You’re going to get through this…” His father’s voice was soft and soothing. Even in this terrifying circumstance where he’d been shot, bound, and gagged, that voice slowed his breathing.

“Dad. Tell them. Tell them, they’ve got it wrong…” More silence greeted him and his eyes wildly scanned the room. “Where’s mom. Do they have mom?!”

“Your mother is fine. She’s at home. Listen to me. No matter what… you’re my boy. Even if we’re not related by blood.”

Dominic’s panic increased and his voice cracked. “No. No you… you have to tell them. Did they threaten you? Do they have a gun to your head?! Why are you lying?”

“I’m not lying.”

“But you… you… you took me to the passport office, we… showed them the birth certificate.” The memory of the birth certificate came to his mind as clear as day. “Your name and Mom’s name was on it. Dad, what are you saying!” His teeth clenched and chattered. Their names were on the birth certificate. That memory was what he clung to as his world was coming apart.

“The birth certificate was falsified. It was a fake document.” His father said.

Dominic refused to believe that. His father had to be bluffing. He had to be buying time. On crime shows, experts say you should cooperate with captors until the police could be called right? The police were on their way. So long as he cooperated, the situation would not get worse and he would be rescued. He had to stay calm. “Right… a fake document.” He said. “Of course.”

He glanced at the woman. Her lips lifted in a slight smile but her eyes were sad. She huffed.

Even the burly man chuckled to himself. “You’re pretending to accept it to cooperate right? Your father is serious. It is a fake document.”

Dominics heart slammed against his chest but he took a deep breath. He lowered his eyes.

“Say goodbye to him.” The woman said.

Dominic didn’t want to say that because this wasn’t real. If he said goodbye, they might shoot his dad. “Um… Dad. So… when I was a toddler, you stole me right?” He asked, glancing at the woman who was still smiling. She gave a little shake of her head.

His father answered. “I knew who these people were when I accepted the job. I had a job to do. Raise you until you are old enough and then let them take you. But… remember when you were at summer camp and we dropped you in the woods?”

Dominic did remember. “Yeah… the time I got attacked by the deer?” 

He was only eleven then, but there was a tradition where young people at that age could be blindfolded, driven off into the woods and dropped off. They were given some supplies and told to walk their way back completely unsupervised. It was considered a right of passage. It was never good for a young child to be too dependent on their parents. Their parents weren’t powerful omnipotent all-knowing beings. Even at the age of eleven, a child had to know for themselves right and wrong, right from left. They needed to look at their parents and take their words with a grain of salt. Being without his father’s protection for the first time in those dark woods terrified him. When the deer burst from the underbrush, galloping straight at him, he screamed. The deer wasn’t attacking him. He’d just startled it.

Using the map and the GPS device, he’d found his way out of the woods. The feeling of seeing his father in the clearing, smiling proudly at him, his son, was a feeling he would never forget. After that, he realized that if he let go of his father’s hand, he could stand on his own and not die. He became a bold, independent youngster.

“Right. That was when they were supposed to take you.” His father said.

“But they didn’t take me.” He said.

“No. That’s because the GPS coordinates I gave you took you away from them. Remember, right after that? We moved across the country.” 

A feeling, cold like ice, began to run through his veins. Dominic’s eyes shifted from the woman who held up the phone for him to the other man’s face, to the light coming through the door where his father was. “But… you got transferred. It was a work transfer.”

“I was running away. With you.”

Dominic sighed, remembering this was a script. This was made up. They had guns to his father’s head. He was surrounded. If his father didn’t say these things, they would shoot him. “Right. But you’re giving me up now so you’ll be okay, right? They’re not going to shoot you, right?”

The man and woman looking over him exchanged glances. 

“Don’t shoot him. Please… Please!” Dominic begged.

The deep strange voice that commanded the two people in front of him came again. “If you agree to come peacefully with us, we will not shoot him. This man and his wife will live out the rest of their lives in peace so long as you cooperate.”

“Me?” Dominic asked. He didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to leave. But if his father was alive, then he could call for rescue. “Okay. I’ll go. Just let him go!”

The phone on his ear disconnected.

“Untie him.” The voice came again. “Let’s go.”

The man and woman undid his restraints and helped him off the bed. They kept their hands on his arms as they escorted him barefoot out of the room where he was held. When he stepped into the light, he was shocked to find that there were no gunmen. His father wasn’t tied to a chair. He was standing, still in the blue soccer outfit, with his baseball cap in his hands. He’d never seen his father look so shrunken. 

The man with the deep voice was sitting there, with a gun on a small table, one leg crossed over the other. He looked to be about the same age as his father, but was strongly muscled like the man with the buzzcut hair. The tan suit was fitted to his muscular frame with a white shirt, khaki pants and brown shoes. He spun a silver wooden cane in one hand. He leaned on this cane as he stood up. A golden chain arced from his breast pocket. He reached in and looked at the time before leaning on the cane to stand up.

This man rested his hand on his father’s shoulder. “That wasn’t so hard. Was it?”

His father’s hand suddenly moved to the man’s side, gripping the hilt of a knife, buried in that man’s side. “Dominic! Run!”

Dominic sprinted toward the exit, a stairway leading to a door. The door was like the stairway to heaven, the stairway to freedom, leading him away from this nightmare. He was lucky! The people standing next to him hadn’t grabbed him! He just needed to be fast enough!

His vision suddenly burst white. His feet left the ground and his shoulder collided hard with it. Pain silenced his voice and he could only grip his shoulder in agony. A heavy shoe pushed him to his back. The man with the cane was standing over him. Dominic had never seen such a cruel gleeful smile. Even though blood was spreading throughout the tailored suit from the stab wound, it didn’t affect him.

He reached down and his hand closed like a vice over Dominic’s arm. He picked him up to his feet and shoved him staggering back. He now rested the cane on his shoulder. It was clear he didn’t need it to walk.

Dominic’s ears were ringing and he realized he must have hit him in the head with the cane. The two people who had been standing guard over him made no move to interfere. Dominic looked to where his father was and found him doubled over, clutching his hand in pain. The knife was on the ground, but Dominic didn’t remember seeing his father get hurt.

“I said, if you cooperate… I’ll let him live.” The man lightly tapped the cane against his shoulder and looked at him with eyes like burning twin coals. The sight of those golden eyes sent a shock through him but they quickly extinguished themselves from burning bright to cold black. 

“What are you… you’re a vampire?” Dominic whispered. “An alien?”

“Yes… and no.” The man said patiently. “You’ll find out all these things once you come with me.”

“Dad?” He looked at his father, desperate for direction.

His father could only shiver in pain, holding his hand. “I am still… your father. Don’t forget that. Go with him.”

“He can’t protect you.” The man with the cane shifted his gaze to focus over Dominic’s shoulder. “But those two, they can. They will be your guard on your journey.”

Dominic looked over his shoulder at them. They stood, resolute, like soldiers at attention. “No this isn’t true!” Dominic didn’t care about what his father said now. He couldn’t go with them. If he left with them, he could never go back.  “No. No!”

He didn’t know much hand to hand at all beyond what he’d learned briefly when a self-defense instructor came to the camp. The instructor said always go for the crotch or the shins or the neck. These were places where even the weakest person could inflict disabling blows.

His knee rushed up to the man’s crotch but never made it. That cane slammed on his knee. Pain crashed into his brain and he collapsed to the floor, howling, rolling, unable to think or breathe. 

The cane cracked again against his ribs and he curled up to defend himself againt further blows. His father’s voice sounded. “Stop! Stop!”

“Shoot him.” The voice from the man with the cane was a cold command.

“No!” Dominic sat up only to be brought low again with a blow to his back, right above his kidneys. He fell again. It hurt so much he couldn’t move, he could only gape like a fish out of water, tears leaking from his wide open eyes.

His father covered his face with both hands, sobbing into them against the wall. The gun was still on the table. No one had reached for it.

“Are you ready to cooperate now?” The man with the cane said.

All resistance left Dominic. His father didn’t get up to defend him. He couldn’t run away or fight. The police weren’t coming. “It’s okay… we’ll get through this…” Dominic said quietly.

“Get him up. Let’s go.”

The two people described as his guard ignored his father and helped him up. He couldn’t take his eyes off his dad who leaned on the wall. His father’s hands lowered from his eyes and their eyes met for the last time. They were red rimmed and desperate, swimming with tears. They weren’t resolute. They had no hope. Looking into those eyes, Dominic understood that the truth didn’t matter. Maybe he was his father, maybe he wasn’t. In the end, there was nothing either of them could do.

[sleekervae]

Suck It And See [0.1]

Masterlist

"Attention all passengers, next stop is:"

"Sheffied Station,"

There was a notable shiver that ran through the air as the soft, feminine introduction was cut short by the blunt, robotic voice that muffled out the train's next destination. The pit of jitterbugging nerves in Jade's stomach reached a new boiling point as she felt the mobile car gradually begin to slow. She pulled her earbuds out and grabbed her luggage case, yanking it through the tight aisle with all the might she had in her tiny body. The conductor was kind enough to hold the sliding door open for her as she came into the pass and hopped out of the side door. The smell of burning coal and engine oil wafted into her nose and made her shiver in disgust.

The station was teaming with people, all of them buzzing back and forth in order to catch their departing train or eager to head home for the day. Jade reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper; it was a portrait of the family that was supposed to be taking care of her. Her mum's sister, Aunt Joy, as well as her Uncle Cosmo, and her cousins, Oliver, Noah, Charlie, Alfie, and Flora; relatives whom she hardly knew growing up as they lived roughly three hours away by train.

They're faces in the photo were off to her, perhaps it was the fact that nobody was smiling? Perhaps it was that the photo was about five years old and the faces were younger? Regardless, Jade's eyes scanned the crowd until she was able to just make out the familiar face of an older, but gorgeous, well-dressed woman standing by the turnstiles; looking absolutely appalled to be standing so close to the mechanisms. Meanwhile, her teenage daughter was sitting on a bench as she flipped through some random fashion magazine.

Pulling her luggage behind her, Jade tentatively approached the older woman. Once her eyes landed on the teenage brunette, her face lit up.

"Oh, my stars! Jade!?" she exclaimed, seemingly enthusiastic to see her. Jade nodded slowly and cracked a shy smile.

"A-Aunty Joy?" she stammered back.

The older woman wrapped Jade into a tight hug, engulfing her in her pungent, suffocating rose-scented perfume. The teenager -- Flora, she presumed -- was reluctant to put away her magazine and stand up, but she did anyhow and forced a smile onto her face. Flora was wearing tight, ripped jeans and velvet sweater with a black tank top underneath. Her long, honey blonde hair was tied into a tight ponytail atop her head with pom-pom elastics keeping it in place. She had shimmery, silver eyeshadow dusting her eyelids and shiny pink lipgloss smeared over her lips. To Jade, she looked like a washed up circus performer.

Aunt Joy meanwhile held herself with pride. She was dressed in a fine black pantsuit and three-inch pumps. Her voluminous, mousy brown hair was loose and curly, brushing over her shoulders, and every inch of her face was covered in fine, sophisticated makeup. Needless to say, this woman stood out like an onion in a bean dip within the station.

Aunt Joy released Jade from her bone-crushing hug and held her face in her hands, seemingly studying her. Her semi-wrinkled hands were surprisingly soft against Jade's skin, "Aw, you look just like your mother," she gushed, but the soft, kind expression in her eyes suddenly shifted to something more... indifferent, "We'll have that fixed before you leave, dear,"

Jade wasn't sure how to respond to that, besides an awkward "okay,". She turned and looked at Flora, who still had her nose buried in the magazine. Aunt Joy snapped at her.

"Flora!" her posh accent boomed at her, "Put that trashy thing away and say hi to your cousin," she requested -- no, demanded.

Flora rolled her eyes and stood, then she wrapped her weak little bird arms around Jade. Flora wasn't much younger than Jade, only by a few months. Regardless, she was short enough to be confused for a twelve-year-old.

"You've grown up," Jade forced herself to say, hoping that Flora might take her as genuine. Instead, she quickly dropped her arms from the hug and stood back. She glared down at Jade's chunky, dirt stained, white converse sneakers and snared at her.

"Why are your eyebrows so big?" she asked.

Jade, once again, wasn't sure how to respond. She subconsciously ran her fingers over her right eyebrow, feeling at the little hairs that brushed against her skin. They were only a bit longer than  Flora's smaller, nearly bleached blonde eyebrows.

"Whatcha' mean?" she could only reply.

Aunt Joy glared at her daughter before she turned on her heels, "Flora, there is nothing wrong with Jade's eyebrows. If wants bushy eyebrows, that's her prerogative,"

Jade wasn't sure whether she should thank her Aunt for standing up for her, or shudder at the sly insult.

Nevertheless, Aunt Joy lead the two girls out of the station and into the parkade. There they all walked towards a silver, classy Mercedes Benz. Aunt Joy popped the trunk and rounded to the driver's side door, while Flora went for the shotgun. Neither of them helped Jade as she struggled to pick up her luggage and put it into the car's small trunk. Once she slammed the door shut, she jumped into the backseat just as the engine roared to life.

The car ride was mostly silent, the only exception being when Joy would asked Jade about her mother. Ruth Carswell was sick, too sick for a few doctor's visits here and there and drug store prescriptions for a quick-fix. Jade didn't like to talk about it much; hence why she chose to come to Sheffield to continue her school. With the medical bills piling up, as well as some bills left over from her parents' divorce, Aunt Joy and Uncle Cosmo were kind enough to take Jade into their home and pay for her school, right up until she would graduate.

"She needs a stable home environment!" Uncle Cosmo would say over the phone. Ruth Carswell was gracious to her sister for taking in her only daughter, while Jade's father, Peter, wasn't as ecstatic to have his fifteen-year-old daughter living three hours away from home.

Jade continued to stare out the window, glaring at the passing dull brick buildings and wet streets. Few people were out; cycling, smoking, sitting on benches and not doing much of anything for entertainment. At least in Newcastle, there was some life that was always breathing its way into the city; this town seemed half-dead.

As they passed a large sign that read Rotherham in white, cursive lettering, the dark, boring brick buildings soon emerged into flatter plains and larger townhouses. They were regal, conservative, and clean, as though just built and painted in a fresh coat. But just as before, nobody was on the streets. It was eery to Jade.

Aunt Joy turned into a cul-de-sac and pulled into a driveway just as the end of the ring. Before them was a beautiful, victorian-style dark green and red house. Its colours matched in tandem with the bushy coniferous trees and bustling flower gardens. The curtains were all drawn open and the grass was a gorgeous, rich green, still damp. On the porch was a darling little bench swing built in rustic, varnished wood. It appeared as a happy home, to Jade and the rest of the world, at least.

Aunt Joy marched up the small staircase while Flora hopped behind her; again, neither of them bothering to help Jade. Luckily for her, Uncle Cosmo opened the door, puffing on his pipe with a big, joyous smile on his face.

"There she is!" he awed. He swept passed his wife and daughter and went right up to Jade, wrapping her in a bear hug. Unlike Aunt Joy, Uncle Cosmo's hug was comfortable, familiar to Jade. His expensive, subtle cologne mixed with his pipe smoke, delicious and bubbly as the scent wafted up Jade's nose. Despite how little she did get to see Uncle Cosmo, she enjoyed spending time with him. He was a kind man with a heart of gold and a hand that was constantly open.

It made Jade wonder why on Earth he would've married Aunt Joy.

"Yeh're growing faster than a weed, darlin'!" he exclaimed, "Last I saw yeh, yeh was just knee-'igh to a grass'opper,"

Jade finally felt herself relax in Uncle Cosmo's embrace, "It's been a while, hasn't it?" she replied.

Uncle Cosmo took the luggage from her and hauled it up the stairs with ease with Jade following. Flora had long disappeared inside her home with Aunt Joy stood off to the side of the door, watching her husband with a derivative of adoration. Her gaze followed them inside before she slammed the door shut, making Jade wince at the sudden cacophonous calamity. Aunty Joy and Uncle Cosmo gave Jade a brief tour of the large house, the sitting room, the kitchen, the basement, rooms she could and could not enter due to 'privacy reasons'.

Her uncle excused himself to his office soon after, his pager had gone off. That left Jade alone with her Aunt. She struggled to pull her luggage up the two flights of stairs Aunt Joy was leading her. They descended down a brightly lit hallway with gorgeous, crisp white panelled doors. One of them was covered in Hot Wheel and Transformers stickers, no doubt that room belonged to her youngest cousin, Alfie.

"The boys are just out at their lacrosse practice, dear. They should be back by dinner time and you can all get reacquainted," Aunt Joy said to her. The older woman turned the corner in the hallway and came to another white door, seemingly decayed and left abandoned by the the passing of time. She wrenched the knob and turned it with a loud creak and pushed it open.

"And here we are. Home, sweet home," Aunt Joy seemingly sang. Jade followed her in, and she found herself standing in a small bedroom. It was perched in the back roost of the house, with dull, beige walls, stained and scratched floorboards, and a single window that overlooked the backyard. The bed was turned down with plump, freshly cleaned sheets and linens, and in the corner was a small desk, chair, and lamp. In the opposing corner was a four-foot long clothing rack. To put bluntly, the room lacked any personality whatsoever.

Jade looked around the room, finding disturbing patterns on the floor. They were boxy in shape and a few shades lighter than the rest of the floorboards. The room smelled of mothballs and lemon pledge, as well as something stuffy. Perhaps it would have been better once she had opened a window?

Jade didn't dare ask her aunt, but she had a creeping suspicion that she had placed her in what was once the attic.

"Now then," Aunt Joy stood by the door as Jade looked around, "House rules: no running down the halls, no loud noises, and if you're going to have friends over, you must approve with myself first. Oh, and no smoking in the house,"

Jade felt her nerves fizzle as she turned around, seemingly dumbfounded, "I'm sorry?" she quipped.

The older woman simply giggled as though she had told a silly joke, "Oh please, dear. I know nicotine when I smell it. You get that awful habit from your mum," she said, "Nevertheless, I'll let you get yourself settled. Dinner's at seven-thirty, I expect you to be downstairs by seven-fifteen. You need to use the bathroom, it's just down the hall. Just be sure you knock first; Flora likes to experiment with her makeup in there," she said.

"Alright," Jade replied tentatively, "Erm -- is there somewhere for me to plug in me phone?" she asked, noting that there were no outlets in the walls. Perhaps, since this was really the attic, the family figured they wouldn't need any electrical outlets.

"Oh," Aunt Joy brought a hand to her face as she looked around in thought, "Well -- I'm sure Cosmo has one in the office you can use. He shouldn't mind too much," she said.

Jade only nodded in reply. Aunt Joy left the shut the door behind her, giving her time to get herself settled. Jade looked tirelessly around the joyless room, figuring out ways in which she could liven it up. Perhaps with some old movie posters or art pieces? Jade placed her luggage at the foot of the rickety-looking clothing rack, pulled off her jacket and let it fall to the floor, and she took a seat on the bed. Despite the plush linens, the bed was hard, creaky, and uncomfortable. Cold and uncomfortable -- just like the rest of the house.

She let out a heavy sigh and laid back on the bed, immediately her eyes landed on a crack in the angled ceiling. Maybe by luck, a poisonous spider would come down from said crack, bite her, and take her out of this wretched situation? Because the Lord only knew how badly she wanted to be at home, with her own loving, but broken family.

[nialledfromfics]

The Dating Game | Chapter Thirteen

~~

Niall could count on his one hand how many times Joey had stayed the night at his house. Not because either of them didn’t want her to, but because it was just easier to stay at hers. It worked well and to rock the boat on their relationship was not something Niall wanted to do. But what Niall could not count on his one hand was the amount of times he thought about Joey staying at his house; sleeping and eating and...living. Just being there with him, sharing a space, sharing a life. He knew it was probably a selfish thought–he traveled for work so much, and with being gone on tour months at a time, would that be fair to her?–but he still couldn’t shake it. He wanted to fall asleep with her and wake up next to her in their shared bed, argue about what laundry detergent to use, or what to cook for dinner and spend late nights cuddling on his couch until they passed out in each other's arms. He wanted all of that, and he wanted it in his house, in their house, for the rest of his life. 

Joey had brought the very last of her work over to Niall’s to finish going over. It wasn’t much, just a few worksheets her students had completed that week and with the following week being the last of the school year, she really wanted to make sure she got them back to the kids in time. Her papers were spread all over the one end of his kitchen table, a few notebooks and her trusty teacher's tote bag as Niall was halfway through preparing dinner. Joey perused over a math sheet, letting out a tiny sigh as she grabbed the half full glass of wine that rested beside her and took a sip. 

She was unaware that Niall was staring at her, unaware of the thoughts churning in his head as he watched a few strands of her red hair fall from her loose ponytail, Joey instinctively tucking them back behind her ear. His blue eyes floated over her; all her intricately beautiful details, the ones that made his heart race every single day, being drawn in by him as the turkey burgers sizzled in the pan behind him. After a few moments, Joey sensed his gaze on her and she glanced over at him through the corners of her eyes. Her pen had been quietly tapping on the table as she read over the text on the papers and her fingers paused their melodic movements as she turned her head all the way to look at him. 

He just smiled at her, that sweet little boyish grin that he did every so often that made her insides curl and twist like a knot on a kite string and she sheepishly breathed out a smile back. “What?” she softly questioned.

Niall shook his head, his mouth tugging down at the corners slightly as he rested his hands on the edge of the countertop beside him. “Nothin’.”

Joey rolled her eyes as she tipped her head, pointing the end of the pen at him. “You always say nothing, Niall, and it’s never nothing.” 

Pushing out a sigh, Niall nervously chuckled as he carded his hand up through his hair. Joey watched with slightly narrowed eyes as he then spun around to attend to the burgers that were searing in the pan. He stayed quiet and she began to get a bit worried. “Niall?” 

“It’s nothin’, really...” he mentioned over his shoulder. But it wasn’t nothing. It was far from nothing. He had been staring at her, watching her, seeing her sitting there in sweatpants and his hoodie with her things spread out on the table, busy with her work as they sipped on wine and he cooked them dinner. It all seemed so normal and unassuming and…perfect. And he wanted it all the time. He wanted her all the time. Just like that, every day.

And he had to tell her. 

He turned back around to face her, Joey having tucked her bare foot up under her thigh as she twisted her body around in the chair towards him. “I’ve just been thinkin’, ya know, uh, just got these thoughts goin’ on in me head lately…” 

His voice was on the verge of cracking, his eyes dropped to the floor and he was fidgeting more than usual, Joey could see it, she could feel it from him. But she had no idea why he was behaving that way and what exactly he was trying to tell her. “I dunno,” he went on, “it really is nothin’...just my own selfishness, I suppose, doesn’t really mean anythin’–”

“Niall, just spit it out, what’s going on?” 

Lifting his chin, Niall caught her stare and licked across his lips. “Jo, I think ya should move in with me.” 

“What?” Joey replied, crinkling her brow. 

Niall shifted on his socked feet. “I-...I think ya should-...no, no,” he stumbled over his words, his hands coming up to gesticulate all that was going on in his head, “I want ya to move in here, with me. My house. If...if ya want to. Only if ya want to.” 

Joey felt as if all the oxygen surrounding her had gotten sucked out of the air. She found it hard to breathe, hard to think, hard to feel...anything and her eyes dwindled down to the soft lines in his wooden floor. “I…” She didn’t know what to say and she pushed a palm to her forehead, rubbing over the side of her hair. Was he serious? 

Peeking back up at him, Joey swallowed hard. His blue eyes were round with uncertainty, surely thinking he had just truly fucked up everything by opening his big mouth and the young woman just lightly shook her head. “We’ve only been dating, like, two months, Niall, are you crazy?” she said, not meaning her words to come out as harsh as they sounded but her emotions soaring out of her control, “I...I can’t believe you would even ask me that.”

Niall pushed out a heavy breath. It was not going as he had hoped. “I...I didn’t mean-,” he stuttered, “I just-...I thought…” 

Joey stood herself up from the end of his table and quietly started to gather her things. She wasn’t really sure what thoughts were surging through her, what feelings were tearing at every part of her insides, but she did know that at that moment, she was beyond frustrated with Niall. “I don’t understand why you’d even bring this up?” she started, shoving her papers and notebooks down into her tote bag, “why now?”

“I dunno,” Niall huffed out shaking his head as he took a step toward her. 

“You’re literally about to release your album, Niall...you’re leaving for tour soon after that!” she went on, not even looking up at him. “Have you even lived with someone before, like, that you were dating?”

“No…”

She peeked over at him. “I have-...I have and it turned out to be the worst thing I could have ever done. I don’t wanna mess us up and we’re not-...” Joey sucked in a breath as she gathered up her pens, “we’re just not there yet.” 

Niall roughly combed his fingers through his hair, his stare bouncing over her movements as she picked up her bag from the table and swung it over her shoulder. “I know, baby...I know, it was a stupid idea–”

Darting her eyes with his, Joey fought back her tears and chewed at her bottom lip. Maybe she was overreacting, hell, she knew she was but it still didn’t change how she was feeling. “Niall, we haven’t even said, ‘I love-...” she cut herself off and crossed her arms over her chest. There was a long excruciating bout of silence, one that stretched tightly around her heart and yanked on it over and over. Niall felt it too. She turned her head. “I don’t know what else to say right now.” 

Stepping up to her, Niall eased his big hands around her upper arms. “You’re right, I’m sorry, it was-....I shouldn’t’ve…” 

His words escaped him. And he felt like a huge prick.

“I’m gonna go,” Joey mumbled, and Niall could see the tension building in her face, in the stiffness of her body as he slid his touch from her. She wouldn’t even look at him. 

Niall swallowed hard. “You don’t have to.” 

“I think I do,” Joey nodded. 

Licking over his lips, Niall lowered his stare to the floor and rubbed across the front of his face. “Okay...just-...I’ll, um, call ya later.” 

“Yeah, okay.” 

Joey had already begun to walk through his foyer, grabbing her keys on the way out. “Don’t forget about your burgers,” she casually mentioned. Niall could hear her sweet tone verging on tears as the door shut behind her, and it momentarily stunned him before he whipped around to the overly sizzling burgers. He quickly moved the pan off of the hot stove. 

“Fuck!” he cried out, slamming his open hands to the granite countertop and dropping his head between his rounded shoulders.

That was not at all how he had wanted that to go and he knew he had royally fucked up. 

•

There was absolutely no logical reason for her to have reacted the way she did, Joey knew that. At least in the grand scheme of things, she knew that. But she still felt that what he had asked her, to move in with him, was an insane and ridiculous thing to do. They hadn’t even been together two months at that point, nor had they fully proclaimed their true feelings for one another, and he just wanted to jump to the next level of their relationship? Joey knew from personal experience that doing that would not end well, not for them and not for her. And there was no way she was ready to put what she had with Niall on the line like that. She wasn’t ready, they were not ready and as much as she would have loved to fall into his arms and scream and cry and tell him how happy she was that he asked her that very question, she just couldn’t. 

And on top of that, she felt terrible and embarrassed for how she had over-reacted. Over the following couple hours, Joey sat curled up on her couch with her little dog and a glass of gin and pondered over all that had happened. As the hours ticked by, the worse and worse she felt about it all. And she hated it.

Every part of her tried to drum up a reasonable excuse as to why she behaved the way she did, why she got so upset and so cold with him. And no matter what, the only thing she kept coming back to was…her ex. He was the only other man she had ever lived with, and the way he had treated her, the way he had controlled her life and her body from the second she stepped into the home they shared, it was something that would forever stick with her. And maybe she put a guard up with Niall on purpose. Yes, they weren’t ready for that step in their relationship, but underneath it all...Joey was just scared. And she needed some time. Time to think, time to clear her mind, time to calm down. 

Later that night, as if on cue, Joey’s phone rang. She knew without even looking at the screen that it was Niall. Twisting her body and perching her arm up on the end of the couch, Joey cupped her cheek in her hand and answered the call. “Hello?”

“Hey, darlin’.” 

Her eyes eased closed at the sound of his voice, and Joey scraped her teeth along her bottom lip as she pulled in a shallow breath. “Hey,” she replied quietly.

There was a slight pause on his side of the phone, Joey being able to hear the soft rattle of his breathing before Niall gently cleared his throat. “I’m really sorry for this evenin’,” he started, a pang of remorse in his tone, “I-...I didn’t mean to make ya feel–”

“No, no,” Joey stopped him, carding her fingers through the side of her hair, “...I’m sorry. I overreacted and I know I did. It makes no sense really, and, I dunno, I just...the last time I lived with somebody, it was my ex...and, I guess, it just scares me a bit.” 

Niall pushed out a sigh. “I don’t wanna scare ya.” 

“I know,” Joey said, “I guess, I’m just worried about us moving too fast. I really, really like you, Niall and I don’t want to fuck up what we have.” 

“I really, really like you, too,” he replied, a softness chiming in his voice. It made a smile etch over Joey’s lips. “And I don’t wanna fuck anythin’ up. That is...the last thing I wanna do.” 

Tipping her head down, Joey dragged her stare over the folds of his hoodie that she was still wearing. It made a tightness clamp in her chest and she hugged her arm around her middle as he went on. “I guess I just need to calm meself down, ya know? I get too excited when I’m around ya. I just want everythin’, all the things with you I haven’t felt this way in so long, it’s like I forgot how to behave.” 

Joey breathed out a low chuckle and tucked some hair behind her ear. “I know, I feel the same way,” she admitted. “I just don’t ever want you thinking I’m taking advantage of you or our relationship or anything.” 

“I’d never think that, Jo.” 

“I mean, you say that now…” 

“No, I mean I would never think that,” Niall reiterated more sternly. “I know you. I know the type of person you are. I trust ya with everythin’ in me, Jo.” 

There was a pause in his end again, and Joey could hear Niall shifting around in his bed, familiar with the sound his body made against the sheets. “Ya trust me, too, don’t ya?” 

Biting at her bottom lip, Joey nodded her head as if Niall could see her. “Yeah, I do.” 

“Okay, that’s good,” Niall said with a relieved sigh. “We’ve officially reached another crucial level in our relationship, I reckon.” Joey chuckled, a louder one that time and it made Niall smile. “But seriously, love, I would really like it if maybe we came back to this conversation about you movin’ in at some point in the future? No pressure, at all. I just…I just really fuckin’ wanna be with you.”

Joey let her eyes fall closed again, her hand sliding over to rub across her forehead. “Niall?” 

“Yeah?” 

Taking in a deep, settling breath, she lifted her head and prepared herself for what she was about to say. “Would you be upset if I told you that I needed some time...alone?” 

“What do’ya mean?”

“Some time to think.” 

“...about us?”

Joey swallowed hard. “No...I dunno, I just need some time to myself. Just a few days.” 

A quiet had crept into the conversation, and Joey darted her eyes around her living room as she waited for Niall to say something. After a few eerily silent moments, the young woman anxiously bit at her lip and spoke up. “Niall?

“I’m here,” he answered, his voice soft and slightly reserved. “Um, yeah...baby, yeah ‘course, take all the time ya need.” 

“Thank you,” Joey replied, “I’m gonna go now, but I’ll call you in a few days and check in.” 

“Alright,” Niall mumbled, “hey, Jo?”

“Yeah?”

Niall sucked in a shaky breath. “I don’t, uh…I shouldn't…worry, should I?” 

She breathed out a smile, tucking her chin down into the collar of his hoodie. It still very much smelled like him and her eyes fell closed as she slowly inhaled. “No, baby.” 

•

Joey did exactly as she had told Niall she was going to do – she took some much needed time to herself, without any distractions from him or anyone else, to reflect and think and decide what she wanted moving forward. She knew she wanted Niall, she knew she wanted to be with him and his offer did very much hang idly in the back of her mind throughout the following couple days. But she continued to question herself, question whether that step was really something she wanted to do or something she wanted for Niall, to appease him and keep him happy. 

Joey had spent too many years conducting herself in that way to appease a man, forgoing her own wants and thoughts and sacrificing her own happiness just to make him happy, to make sure he would never get angry or leave her. She guessed that was what it all boiled down to for her – was moving in with Niall something she would end up doing for him, or for herself? 

Maybe it was lame of her, maybe it was ridiculous and completely unnecessary, but she didn’t care. What she felt for Niall, how he made her feel when they were together, that was something she was not willing to take lightly. It wasn’t something she was willing to sacrifice by moving too fast and for the wrong reasons. It just wasn’t. Her heart ached for him, her body craving to feel him, her lips begging for his kisses, and it was hard enough not talking to him for those two full days, she couldn’t imagine doing anything that would compromise their entire relationship. But she feared overstepping that level of their relationship that they weren’t entirely ready for, would do just that. 

The following morning, as lazy of a Sunday as Joey had predicted, the red head took Sadie on a walk and then decided to head downtown to do some much needed retail therapy. Joey typically wasn’t one to splurge on expensive clothes or shoes or anything of the sort, not really having the budget to do so, but every once in a while she loved to treat herself. She had gotten herself a mocha frappuccino and set off doing a bit of window browsing, not really sure what she was looking for, or if she was even looking for anything in particular. But it was a gorgeous day in LA, and Joey figured she could just walk for a little while until something caught her eye. 

It wasn’t long before a pretty little white number hanging in the window of the tiny designer boutique drew her in. It was gorgeous; flowy and soft and perfect for summer, which had already crept its way into southern California. After trying on the dress, and deciding that it fit like a dream, Joey hooked the outfit over her arm and strolled around the store for a little longer, just to see if there were anymore goodies she could find. 

Towards the back of the shop, there was a small rack of shoes on display along the wall. The cutest pair of sandals caught Joey’s eye and she beelined right for them, coming to a stop right next to another patron of the shop who was also perusing the rack of shoes. As Joey reached out to grab the pair of sandals to check the size, she nonchalantly peeked over at the girl beside her and her heart did a complete flip in her chest. 

It was Lila. 

Joey hesitated for a split second, her mouth barely hanging open as she shot her eyes back to the array of summer sandals in front of her. Her mind was going wild; should she say something or pretend not to notice her and hope she would just walk away? Joey eased her arm back down and bit at her lip. She didn’t have much more time to dwell over the situation though as Lila turned and looked over at her. 

Joey could sense Lila’s stare on her and, at that point she couldn't have run away even if she wanted to. So she eased her body around as she looked over at Lila. “Lila…” Joey clumsily greeted the girl, “hi!”

“Hi…um, Joey, right?” The blonde’s brows slightly crinkled as Joey nodded. “I thought that was you.” 

“I didn’t...I didn’t know you were still in town?” Joey inquired.

Lila toddled her head back and forth as she flipped her hair over with the comb of her fingers. “Yeah, I actually moved here, so…”

“Oh.” 

“That wasn’t really my plan, or anything,” she went on, “I was really just supposed to be visiting Niall here for a little bit and then we-...well, you know, and I was going to go back home, but then I just couldn’t seem to leave!” She finished with a nervous giggle. 

Joey smiled. “LA can do that to you.” 

“I’ve noticed.” 

A silence fell between the two women, Joey biting at her lip as Lila peeked down at the floor. She knew what she wanted to say to Lila, she knew what she had to say, it was something she had thought about many times before and she forced in a deep breath as she readied herself. “Uh, yeah, I’m kinda glad I ran into you because...um, I know we don’t know each other very well,” Joey spoke up, catching Lila’s stare, “but I just wanted to tell you that I am really sorry for how things went down between Niall and you because of me. I–” 

“It’s fine,” Lila said, softly shaking her head. “What can you do, ya know? He loves you, not me.” 

Joey’s hazelnut eyes drifted off of hers and she swallowed hard. “Yeah, but the way it all happened, how I behaved…” 

Lila licked across her lips. “Joey, I don’t fault you for fighting for him, for being upset that we were together. I would’ve been the same way.” She paused, lowering her head for a moment as if she was trying to pick her words carefully. “I really did fancy, Niall and maybe I put too much effort into what I thought was real, but...him and I just weren’t meant to be. I was...just a stepping stone to him figuring out what he really wanted. Which was you.”

“How are you being so cool about this?” Joey huffed out, narrowing her eyes, “I dunno if that makes me feel better or...worse for how I acted.” 

Lila pushed out a laugh. “ ‘Cause I know how he feels about you. He wrote an entire song about you, for crying out loud. While we were dating.” 

“You know about that?” 

The blonde half shrugged as she nodded. “He would play it all the time, singing it around the house and he never outright told me it was about you, but...I knew. It was hard not to know.” 

“Fuck,” Joey breathed out. 

“Look,” Lila went on, tipping her head to the side as she reached out and softly touched at Joey’s forearm. “I figure that if someone as great as Niall, cares that much for you, loves you that much...you can’t be all that bad.” She giggled. “At least not like I had thought.”

A rushed breath filled her lungs as Lila’s words consumed her head; playing on every note, every chord of the beautiful thoughts of Niall that came crashing back to her. Every look he had given her, every smile and laugh. None of it had been wasted, none of it for nothing and it made Joey ease her face down in a timid smile, her fingers reaching up to tuck her fallen hair behind her ear. “Just...don’t take his love for granted, ya know?” Lila continued, her voice capturing Joey’s attention once more, “Despite how he felt, or didn’t feel, about me, he’s a good one.” 

Joey smiled bigger that time. “Yeah...he is. Thank you, Lila.” 

“No worries,” Lila said, smiling back at her. 

“It was good to see you. 

Lila nodded. “It was good to see you, too.” 

Stepping herself away, Joey anxiously gnawed at her lip as her heart flipped in her chest. It felt like a swarm of bees attacking in her gut, and she tried to calm her rattled breaths as Niall flashed like a homeward beacon in her mind. ‘What the fuck am I doing?’ she thought to herself, shaking her head as she moved the outfit from one arm to the other and reached down into her bag to pull out her phone. 

She really couldn’t be that stupid, to think after everything, after all they had gone through together and apart, that she wanted to be without Niall. Even a second away from him was like torture and she smiled to herself, swallowing hard as she peered down at the screen of the phone and opened up her recent calls list. 

Just as Joey was about to hit ‘call’, her phone began to ring. Puzzled at the name displayed across her screen, a new feeling surged through Joey and she sucked in a shaky breath as she answered the call. 

“Mom?” she said, her light brown eyes going wide as she heard the soft sobs of her mother on the other end of the line. “Mom...wait, what's wrong?” 

There was a bout of silence before Joey’s lips parted and her brows cinched, desperate to hold in the tears that were quickly rounding the brims of her eyes. “what-....grandma?” 

[imaginaryelle]

If you're still taking asks, maybe a modern wangxian au where LWJ finds out WWX never learned to ride a bike so he decides to teach him? Or in line with those LWJ does something uncharacteristic but only for WWX's eyes (like winking at him) and WWX is so shocked and tries to convince anyone else that it happened but no one believes him. Just some general fluffiness 🤗

Anon, I hope you don’t mind that I threw A-Yuan in here too,because I had a brainwave halfway through writing this and “fluff”plus “Lan Wangji acting in ways other people won’t believe”came up with an answer of “A-Yuan.” (Also I re-watched relevantscenes and realized A-Yuan calls Wei Wuxian “Xian-gege” and Icould not resist.) This fic is ~2.7k and can also be read on AO3.

*

When Wei Wuxiansteps off the bus with A-Yuan balanced carefully against his hip, hefinds Yiling park is less crowded than expected for a sunny autumn day.  That may be due to the exhibition downtown, or to the coolbreeze snaking over the grounds and blowing hair into people’sfaces no matter how carefully they’d tied their ponytail. He swipeshis hair back irritably and checks that A-Yuan’s coat is stillbuttoned up. It hadn’t been this cool back at his apartment, butafter a few months of babysitting Wei Wuxian has learned at least afew things, and one of thosethings is that Wen Qing will absolutely pummel him if he takes thekid out without a jacket.

“This is usually areally nice place,” he tells A-Yuan as they walk hand-in-tiny-handtoward the pedestrian boulevard.  “When I was in school, fourdifferent classmates of mine got engaged here, over by the river, andthere’s a playground further in, and sometimes there arefireworks.”

The grounds haven’tchanged much since those days, which were, admittedly, only a yearago so he’s not sure what he was expecting. The walking paths arestill lined with trees and flower bushes for every season, and theelectric lanterns overhead creak as they swing in the breeze. It’sjust not really the sort of place he ever imagined Lan Wangjifrequenting. Full of couples and families with children, or usuallyfull anyway. Lan Wangji likes solitude and quiet. At least, he usedto.

Maybe something’schanged in the last few months. Something that would make himactually respond to one of Wei Wuxian’s messages for once. Andinvite him somewhere. On a not-date, because Wei Wuxian is verycertain that Lan Wangji doesn’t… date. And he definitely doesn’tdate university dropouts, no matter the state of their previousfriendship, or what sorts of daydreams and hopes Wei Wuxian stillguiltily harbors.

Not that theknowledge stops Wei Wuxian’ heart speeding up as he finally catchessight of a figure in a long white overcoat, standing quiet andself-contained next to one of the bubbling fountains spreadthroughout the park. Not that reminding himself of it keeps his palmsfrom sweating as they draw nearer.

“Lan Zhan,” hecalls when he can’t bear to wait any longer, and it’s gratifying,how quickly Lan Wangji turns.

“Wei Ying,” hesays, and there might even be a hint of a smile there before his eyeslock on A-Yuan and a frown etches itself between his brows. “Thisis …?”

“Oh!” Wei Wuxianrealizes, quite suddenly, that he never actually… sent that updatetext about his situation. Oops. “Sorry, sorry,” he apologies.“This is A-Yuan. I don’t usually watch him on Saturdays, but hisfamily had a—a thing today.” He waves his free hand, as if it canencompass the Wen family’s various complications and commitments.

Lan Wangji staresdown at A-Yuan without responding.

“Is—is thatokay?” Wei Wuxian bites his lip. “If it’s not I think I’mfree next week—”

“It’s fine,”Lan Wangji says. And then, with some concern, “Is he cold?”

Wei Wuxian looksdown to find A-Yuan has turned his face into Wei Wuxian’s leg, likehe’s hiding from the wind. But he’s not shivering, or clinging.It’s more like his occasional behavior at the supermarket, whenit’s overcrowded.

“Ah, no, I thinkhe’s just shy.” He pets A-Yuan’s hair. “A-Yuan,” he coaxes,“This is Lan Zhan, Xian-gege’s friend from school. He’s the onewho invited us out to play today.” A-Yuan shakes his head and staysstubbornly turned into him. Wei Wuxian can barely bite back his smileas he says, “Lan Zhan, your face is too severe, he thinks you’reangry.”

Lan Wangji managesto look even more concerned at this, and Wei Wuxian laughs. “It’sfine, it’s fine, he really is shy. It took him two days to warm upto me when I was first watching him.” He slings off his backpackand nudges A-Yuan closer to the fountain. “He’ll do better for abit of a distraction.”

The backpack isoverstuffed with things he or A-Yuan might need, but it’s easyenough to find the butterfly and the dragon he likes best.

“A-Yuan,” hesays, holding them out, “Do you want to show Lan Zhan your toys?”

A-Yuan bites hislip, his little hands clenching tight as he reaches out and thenpulls back.

“A-Yuan ishungry,” he declares, and Wei Wuxian sighs.

“We ate lunch anhour ago. I told you already, we can get noodles in a little while.All I have for you right now is shrimp crackers and dried plums.”

A-Yuan pouts. Shrimpcrackers and dried plums are tied for his least favorite snack, butbetween his anticipation of this outing with Lan Wangji and theunexpected chaos his morning had turned into Wei Wuxian hasn’trefreshed his supplies yet this week. He sets the toys on the wideedge of the fountain and turns with a grimace. “Sorry, Lan Zhan,”he says. “Sometimes he—”

“Will these work?”Lan Wangji produces a brightly colored bag of Lotus chips and holdsthem out to A-Yuan, who nods eagerly.

“Lan Zhan...”Wei Wuxian watches him open the snacks and pick out a careful pile ofchips that he presents on a paper napkin. Watches A-Yuan smile widelyat him and offer up his most polite and heartfelt ‘thank you.’There’s another, immediately recognizable snack bag peeking out ofLan Wangji’s bike pannier—the spicy version of the same brand oflotus snacks, which Wei Wuxian had eaten almost every day while theywere in classes together and which he knows for a fact Lan Wangjipersonally abhors.

For a moment he’sso overcome with nostalgia and inexplicable gratitude that he can’teven see what’s directly in front of him until Lan Wangji call hisname.

“What?” heblinks hard and clears his throat before meeting Lan Wangji’s gaze.“Sorry, Lan Zhan, what-ah. What did you even want to do today,anyway?”

Lan Wangji looks athim for a moment, and then at A-Yuan happily eating and playing, andthen nods to himself. He goes back to his bike panniers and rummagesfor a moment, reappearing with a bike helmet, which he pushes intoWei Wuxian’s unresisting hands.

“What’s thisfor?” he asks, staring at it. It looks suspiciously like LanWangji’s own bike helmetwith the white and the blue detailing tomatch his fancy road bike,but he supposes it’s possible there’sa second one. Lan Wangji had to buy it somewhere, right?

“Riding,”Lan Wangji says, and Wei Wuxian sighs and passes the helmet back.

“LanZhan, wherever you want to go I’m sure we can walk. Or catch a bus!Get a taxi. It’s too—too windy to bike, and there’s no seat forA-Yuan on a rental.” He sticks his hands in his pockets and huncheshis shoulders like he’s warding of chills. Hot noodles are soundingmore and more appealing. 

“Youshould learn,” Lan Wangji says, and Wei Wuxian goes still. Noteven remotely adate then. Definitely nota date. No, instead LanWangji has found yet another weakness to poke his long, beautifulfingers into. Damn him.

“Whotold you?”

LanWangji is impassive, as ever. “You were at the skate park. With WenQionglin.”

WeiWuxian frowns. He spends a few evenings a week at the skate park withWen Ning, but none of that time is really related to—oh. Oh.The trick bike, two weeks ago. Which means Lan Wangji saw him crashinto a bench and nearly break his wrist. Whoops.

“LanZhan, that was a one-time thing,” he promises. “Don’t worry,I’m not going to be trying that again.” Even if riding a bikewould be worlds more convenient than walking next time he misses thebus to work.“I’m fine, really. Thereare plenty of ways to get around the city.” Heturns on his heel and scrunches up his face in the direction of ahappy couple on the walkingpaths. This is reallynot—wait. “Wait.” He spinsback around. “Did you mean—youwant to teach me?”

LanWangji is looking down at the helmet in his hands, not meeting WeiWuxian’s eyes.

“Mn,”he says, low enough that Wei Wuxian can hardly hear it over the rushof the fountain. He leans closer.

“Isthere a special reason?” he asks with renewed hope.

“WeiYing should learn,” Lan Wangji repeats.

Somuch for that then. Wei Wuxian pouts. But maybe he can turn this tohis advantage. Bike riding lessons could take hours. Maybe days. Itcould take multiple meetings, with and without A-Yuan in tow. Atminimum, it means more time spent with Lan Wangji, more opportunitiesto figure out if this is friendship rekindled or—or something else.

“Okay.”He plucks the helmet from Lan Wangji’s hands and smiles at the hintof surprise on his face. “Let’s do it.”

Ofcourse, as with anything involving Lan Wangji, there arecomplications. It’s not enough to just get on a bike and point itdown a clear patch of pavement, no, there are steps.The first of which is wearing a helmet, which takes a few minutesto get settled properly; WeiWuxian has no idea how Lan Wangji manages to wear it and still havesuch perfectly neat hair all the time.Wei Wuxian does not have thatgift. His ponytail gets inthe way, and Lan Wangjimeets the suggestion that they could just move on without the helmetwith an icy stare. So Wei Wuxian takes down his hair and puts it upagain three separate times, and stops to tease A-Yuan and let himselfbe laughed at, and then the straps have to be adjusted again, andagain.

Thatpart at least is mostly pleasant. Lan Wangji stands close enough thatWei Wuxian can count his eyelashes as he frowns and messes withplastic clips and slips his fingers carefully between Wei Wuxian’sskin and the buckle. It takes two tries before he’s satisfied thatthe helmet isn’t going to slip off and leave Wei Wuxian to rattlehis brain against the concrete, and by the time he steps back WeiWuxian has very nearly convinced himself that a kiss would be aharmless, innocuous thing and not at all a risk that makes hisinsides tie themselves into knots. Very, very nearly, but notquite well enough to close that last bit of distance between them.

Adjustingthe bike’s seat is significantly more frustrating.

“It’sfine,” Wei Wuxian insists, impatient after getting on and off thebike four times for what seem to be extremely minor adjustments.

“It’ssafer if your feet can touch the ground while you’re learning,”Lan Wangji says, unhooking the latch again.

“Theytouch!” Wei Wuxian fumes. “I’m not that much shorterthan you, I’ll knock myself out with my own knees if that seat goesany lower.” Not that any of his protests seem to matter in the faceof Lan Wangji’s conviction.

Finally,finally, after the seat is adjusted and Lan Wangji hasstubbornly held the whole bike still so that Wei Wuxian can tryputting his feet on the pedals without falling over, they can reallyget underway. Wei Wuxian moves A-Yuan to a slightly safer distancefrom both bicycle and fountain, tells him to stay put so he doesn’tget hurt, and straddles the bike one last time. Lan Wangji holds ontothe rack in an effort to keep the bike steady without being directlyin the way, but it’s still a wobbly effort. Wei Wuxian looks downthe stretched out downhill slope of pavement before him and seesnothing but a hard surface to fall on. For a moment he considers themerits of calling the whole thing of and insisting on an early dinnerafter all. His wrist twinges with remembered pain.

ButLan Wangji has gone to so much effort, and this is the first timehe’s reached out for anything in months. If Wei Wuxian backsout now he might not get another chance to see him for even longer.

“Okay.”The handlebars wobble and he tightens his grip with a grimace; LanWangji’s biek is the lightest, most responsive bicycle he’s everso much as touched. “Okay,” he repeats. “What next, Lan Zhan?”

“Pedalslowly, and remember the breaks,” Lan Wangji says at his shoulder,and then they’re moving, Lan Wangji’s footsteps at his side asthe tires roll and the pavement speeds by, faster and faster, andthen he realizes he can’t hear Lan Wangji’s footsteps anymore andhe’s gliding along on his own. Coasting down the hill. Speedingup.

Thespeed is exhilarating. Like jumping off a diving board or taking thehalf-pipe a little too fast. He lets out a whoop and leans into itand tries to pedal faster, and then the bike leaps suddenly sideways,and there’s a moment of trying to pedal backwards and trying toreach the brake levers at the same time, and then the whole bikeshudders underneath him and the horizon slips sideways and he hitsthe ground and slides.

Fora few seconds he just lies on his side doing a mental inventory ofhis parts. Ow. His left ankle and upper arm hurt. There’s gravelunder his face. He has no idea where the bike is. He thinks A-Yuanmight be crying in the distance.

“WeiYing!” Lan Wangji’s voice draws nearer. “Wei Ying,” rightoverhead. A hand grabs at his shoulder, another pressing to his face.

“Xian-gege!”A-Yuan yells, almost directly into his ear, still crying, and WeiWuxian reaches a hand up for him.

“I’mokay,” he says as soothingly as he can, patting blindly at A-Yuan’shead.“Shhhh, Xian-gege is okay, A-Yuan.”

“WeiYing,” Lan Wangji repeats, like he thinks Wei Wuxian can’t hearhim.

“LanZhan.” Wei Wuxian struggles to sit up, a process made moredifficult by both A-Yuan andLan Wangji’s hoveringpresence so close to his face. “Did I scratch up your bike?” Helooks around for clues to its whereabouts, but Lan Wangji makes adismissive noise and grabs at his hand.

“Areyou hurt?” he asks.

“No,”Wei Wuxian lies. Bruises don’t count, especially not with LanWangji holding his hand. “Lan Zhan, I’m fine, I promise,” heinsists when Lan Wangji looks unconvinced. More than unconvinced, LanWangji looks almost regretful. “Hey, hey, no,” Wei Wuxiansqueezes his hand. Dares to tug him a little closer. “I’m fine.Nothing an ice pack won’t cure.”

“Xian-gege.”A-Yuan chooses that moment to crawl from Lan Wangji’s lap to hisand press tiny toddler hands into his face. “Xian-gege is hurt,”he says, pushing at Wei Wuxian’s cheeks in a way that does,admittedly, make him wince.

“Everything’sokay, A-Yuan.” Wei Wuxian sighs and lets of of Lan Wangji’s handto wipe at the tears on A-Yuan’s cheeks. “I’m not hurt. I justmessed up. Do you remember what we do when we mess up?”

A-Yuannods seriously. “Try again,” he says dutifully, and Wei Wuxiangrins and bops his nose gently.

“That’sright! We try again. So that’s what we’re going to do, and thenwe’re going to go get noodles. Deal?”

“Mn!”A-Yuan nods eagerly.

“Deal,Lan Zhan?” Wei Wuxian asks, still grinning even though his cheekhurts with it, and even though his whole body is probably going toache tomorrow morning, especially if he falls again. “Let merepay you for the lesson with dinner?”

LanWangji gives him a long, slow look, but there’s a hint of a smilethere. Just enough to send Wei Wuxian’s heart soaring all overagain.

“Mn,”he agrees.