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tarrenterror25 · 2 years ago

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Ulysses Klaue x F!Reader Title: I Always Find My Way Back To You Chapter: 1 of 9 Rating: Explicit 18+ Word Count: 4.8K

Summary: You can always count on Ulysses to return to you, but lately you find yourself wanting more. The new dangers in the world don't make the life of an arms dealer any easier and any day could be his last. Running away and living off the grid with the man you love is the dream. Does he share your feelings and can he be convinced to live a life with you?

Tags: MxF, heavily implied sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, sending lewds, PiV, rough sex, hair-pulling, daddy-kink, praise, spanking, quickie, blowjob

Playlist here (May contain explicit material)

Notes: Ahh, it’s here. I once again have to keep from over editing so this is where I stop myself. I apologize if this isn’t your cup of tea, I tried to write it for anyone to enjoy, but it is also still my work so there’s that. Sorry if it’s like overtly lovey dovey, I’m a sucker for romance. I hope you guys enjoy this first chapter!

Chapter One: As We Are

Ulysses Klaue sat at his desk with a heavy sigh. In front of him, numbers flick across computer monitors and downstairs beyond the glass of the office, the crew of the Churchill can be heard bustling about.

Klaue’s cell rings. With an annoyed groan he digs it out of his pocket and answers it. It’s just a standard business call. When he’s done, he tosses it down onto the desk. He takes a candy from the pewter dish nearby and pops the sweet into his mouth when he hears the phone ring again.

He furrows his brow. The source of the ring is not the satellite phone nor the one he just tossed down.

Klaue pats himself down and searches his pockets.

He retrieves another cell.

It’s a bit nicer than the other, but still a brick because he’s clumsy and glass screens wouldn’t survive the conditions of the Churchill very well.

The notification screen shows new messages: image attachments.

A grin spreads across his face when he eyes the number of the sender.

Klaue leans back in his chair and props his feet up on his desk. He opens up the messages and lets out a long whistle.

Some very sultry images materialize; a woman with a fluffy robe draped across her figure only allowing a peek at some lingerie and leaving the rest to the imagination. There’s other images as well; a couple of flirtatious selfies and a couple of her in different outfits. He licks his lips looking at them, thinking about what could be waiting on the other end of the phone. He’s so focused on the pictures he doesn’t notice anyone else enter his office.

“Boss.”

Klaue quickly backs out of the message thread and his phone jumps out of his hand at being startled as he sits up. It fumbles in his hands for a bit before he manages to catch the damn thing. “What?” Klaue snaps looking to his right hand man who just rudely interrupted him.

“Sorry,” his mercenary replies. “But the plane is ready.”

Klaue grins as he stands. “What are we still doing here, then? Let’s go.”

You roll over in bed and pull the blanket close around you. Your fingers fidget with the edge of the covers. There’s a stuffed bear beside you that you pull close to your chest. You switch to running your fingers through its fluffy exterior before you cave and check your phone for what feels like the millionth time since you sent the photos almost two days ago.

Nothing.

It wasn’t like Klaue to ignore you. Maybe he was just really busy or maybe something happened. Something bad? Maybe..

“Nope,” you say as you sit up. “Can’t think like that. He’ll answer soon.”

He’ll answer soon.

You had been telling yourself that more times than you could count, but with no word from him, every day made you feel further away from him than the last.

You throw on some cozy pajamas and navigate your way through your luxury city view apartment to the kitchen. Armed with a spoon and a bowl, you serve yourself some cereal. You go over to your cereal dispenser and watch the sugary fruit shapes spill out into your bowl.

You and Ulysses Klaue had an arrangement like all the other men before him, but one by one you found yourself turning away all the other the more time you spent with Ulysses.

What started as just great sex and being showered with gifts, turned into you developing feelings that you were trying to keep from surfacing.

The money was great, the clothes were designer, the jewels were dazzling, but there was one day that he left you with your gifts and you realized that the thing you truly wanted had already walked out the door.

Ulysses Klaue wasn’t just another one of your flings. The two of you made memories together, memories you now cherished. He made you realize that a life with someone could exist...and you wanted yours to exist with him.

“Shit,” you say as you see the cereal overflowing from the bowl. You shut the dispenser and clean up the pieces with a sigh.

After you add milk to the bowl, you seat yourself on your plush white couch and turn on the TV. You try to steer your mind from Ulysses or “Uri” as you had taken to calling him.

“Uri?” Klaue asked from where he rested his head in your lap. “Uly would make more sense wouldn’t it? Wait, never mind, I don’t like the sound of it.”

“Uri is close enough,” you said as you stroke his face. “It means “My light or my flame”.”

“Really?” he said. “I’ll take that one then.”

He puts his hand behind your head and pulls you close to kiss you.

You check your phone again and still nothing. An ache settles into the pit of your stomach as intrusive thoughts invade your mind. You know what he does and it scares you. An arms dealer and during these times? The world had seen the likes of all sorts of beings from space and beyond. Who was to know what was to come?

The television is on a news channel discussing the unimaginable things Earth has seen since the inception of the Avengers. You change the channel.

Admitting the feelings to yourself made everything worse. You knew you loved him and knew that any day could be the last you hear from him and that scared you, terrified you. All you want is to run away with Ulysses, to start over, to just have each other.

A talk show plays discussing the whole aliens from the sky. You change the channel again.

“Tonight it’s “Gods Among Us”. Where do they-”. Click.

“Captain America’s time in ice. Exclusive look into what really happened-” Click.

”Superhumans, are there any more out there, Tom?” “We saw this Winter Soldier come out of the woodwork, who’s to say-” Click.

“The US government is still looking into the acquisition of Stark Industries. Many officials still believe he is the root of nearly 80% of Earth’s recent disasters.” “Of course he is! Look at his track record: this Whiplash character, the Mandarin terrorist, and his crew of freaks who brought aliens. It all leads back to him!” “But some of these threats were existing regardless of Stark’s involvement. I can sleep better knowing we have someone like Dr. Banner-” Click click.

A woman speak over a video of the Earth from space, rotating in the black of space. “Who know what else there is...we used to think we knew where we fit into the grand scheme, but now...it’s anyone’s game.”

CLICK.

Your phone pings and you quickly set down your bowl on the coffee table and open the message. It’s from Klaue.

Your heart swells as you read it and you find yourself smiling. He’s texted you the details of when he’ll arrive in your city. Then your phone rings. A selfie of the two of you pops up on your screen along with “Uri” as the contact name. You answer.

“Uri?” you say trying to mask your excitement.

“Missing me, sweetheart?” he says with a chuckle.

“Always” you reply, your face blushing.

"Me too,” he says.

There’s the faint sound of people bustling about in the background and you hear Klaue giving orders to someone.

“Sweetheart?” he says.

“I’m still here,” you reply.

“Should make it to you before sundown tomorrow,” he says. “Think you can wait that long?”

You bite your lip. “I’ll do my best.”

“See you soon.”

He hangs up.

You squeal and leap off the couch. You do a little victory dance before realizing that you have so much to do before he arrives.

Being paid for your time and company, you never really went out of your way to do much for your suitors, but Ulysses was different. You surprised him with clothes picked out just for him, lit candles with his favorite scents, cooked his favorite meals even if it took you a few tries to learn. You had started to find yourself wanting to make him happy, wanting to please him. You ended up forgetting about looking forward to whatever lavish gifts he was bringing and instead began to focus on just making him happy.

You get as much prepped as you are able before you decide it’s time to hit the hay. You can’t let the manic cleaning and preparing get to you, you need to rest.

You don’t sleep right away; you scroll through the pictures you’ve taken of you and Klaue; some very playful and silly selfies, a picture of Klaue after you shoved an ice cream in his face leaving a bit on his nose, and one he took of you with ice cream covering your entire face and him smiling.

When you do fall asleep, you phone slips from your hand.

You wake up feeling very groggy. You’re not sure what time you ended up falling asleep, but you know it must have been quite late.

Why didn’t your alarm wake you?

You now make out the faint melody of your phone ringing from...somewhere.

The clock on your nightstand tells you that you’ve slept in. A lot.

“Oh shit,” you say as you try to untangle the blankets from your person.

You hear your phone ring again and try to rise from bed only to have a sheet that was still tangled around your foot trip you up. You fall a little less than gracefully to the floor, but do manage to find your phone under the bed.

Missed calls and new messages from Ulysses.

You open the messages: Landed. ETA: 1800.

You curse as you count in your head what that means in standard time.

“6:00pm.”

You look at the clock on your nightstand. 11am.

You waste no time in getting started on sprucing up your apartment. The butterflies in your stomach and pounding of your heart fuel you as you fluff up the couch pillows, light candles, and plan dinner.

2:00pm rolls around and you’re stumped between a natural makeup or a full face. You settle for something in between and carefully style your hair, ensuring each lock is in a place to your liking.

Now what to wear...

You could for something casual, an oversized sweater? Should you wear jeans? You opt for a simple snug knee length dress and some chunky Mary Jane heels; it’s comfortable, but still flirty.

You cook dinner and set it in the oven to keep it warm. You go ahead and set out some vintage wine and glasses on the coffee table and sit on the couch.

5:45pm.

You check your phone, but there’s nothing new except a few text messages from some friends.

Your nerves get to you and you go ahead and pop open the wine and pour yourself a glass. You sit back down, but get back up and start practicing how you’ll open the door.

Hand on your hip? No, too much attitude.

Should you be taking a call? Play it casual and aloof? No,no, no. Don’t want to look too busy.

One glass turns to two and then to three.

You’re in the middle of practicing your answering-the-door bit in a silk scarf draped over your elbows with your wine glass in hand when the doorbell rings.

You set down your glass and toss aside the scarf and race to the door and look through the peephole.

Ulysses Klaue stands outside your door, cleaned up in a suit minus the jacket, holding a bouquet of roses. You watch him for a moment as he glances down the hall and checks his watch. He tugs at the tie he’s wearing, his face saying it’s uncomfortable. He usually doesn’t dress up like this, but you remember hearing him say he liked doing it for you. He looks up towards the peephole and you let out a startled squeak as you step back. You compose yourself and fluff up your hair a bit. You take a calming breath and open the door.

He flashes a grin, light glinting off his gold tooth. “There you are,” he says. “Thought I had the wrong door for a minute.” He leans down to kiss you.

It takes a good amount of will power for you to not throw yourself at him, but you’ve missed so much that you can’t help it. You deepen the kiss, your mouth offering no resistance as his tongue ravishes you. His free hand grabs hold of your ass firmly, making you squeak in surprise.

He pulls away from you with a chuckle and shuts the door as you take the flowers from him. You head to the kitchen to prep them to be put into a vase. Klaue follows behind you, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbow. You stand at the counter cutting off the stems to the roses at an angle and placing them into a vase. “They’re beautiful,” you say. “Thank you.”

He presses against you from behind and pulls down on of the sleeves of your dress. “Not nearly as beautiful as you.” He kisses your shoulder, his lips searing into your skin like a brand.

“Sorry I’ve been away,” he says and places another kiss in the crook of your neck.

Your hands feel sweaty against the cool countertop as you brace yourself. You haven’t heard from him in so long and now with his voice in your ear, it has you weak. You spent many nights waiting for something from him to let you know he was okay, that he was alive, and even more nights being at the mercy of your body aching for his touch.

You can’t stop yourself from pushing your ass back against him. You feel his cock is already half hard for you and bite your lip to stifle a moan. He sighs in your ear and grabs your hips and thrusts against you, pinning you to the counter.

“Uri,” you whisper throwing your head back onto his shoulder. “Please. I missed you.”

You feel his hands run up your thighs until they hike up your dress to run across your ass. “That so?” he says groping your flesh.

“Yes,” you say turning to face him. “I did.”

You can’t wait any longer, you know you’re already soaked for him. You need him inside of you, not a toy, not your fingers, not anyone else, just him. You need him like the wanderer needs the oasis in the desert; begging for reprieve from the heat of the sun, dropping to their knees in the cool shade, and reverently holding the waters in their hands to drink.

Your hands begin to untuck his neatly pressed shirt and you undo his belt. Klaue turns you back around and bends you over the counter. You brace yourself on the marble top and feel his hands work at ripping apart your panties. Lucky for you, Klaue was just as impatient as you were.

You hear his zipper come undone and feel his thick length press against your ass. “U-Uri,” you moan pushing back against him with need.

His hand dips between your legs to tease your entrance. “Fuck, baby, you’re so wet already,” he says entering two fingers inside of you.

He gives a few pumps, curling his digits inside you, then pulls them out leaving you empty, to line his now fully erect cock up with your cunt. He slowly pushes himself inside you until he’s fully sheathed in your warmth.

You let out a loud moan at the feeling of being stretched open by him. He holds still, allowing you to adjust to his size.

“You feel so fucking good on my cock, sweetheart,” Klaue says hissing through his teeth.

His hand tangles in your hair and grabs a handful to pull your head up so that your back arches. Your cunt begs for friction and you begin to move against him. “That’s it, baby,” he says as he begins thrusting into you.

You feel your eyes nearly roll back into your head with how hard he fucks you. Your essence allowing him to glide deeper into you with ease, bottoming out with each thrust. “Yes, Uri!” you cry out. “Just like that!”

Your moans are just as loud as the snap of his hips against your ass. His hand in your hair twists to pull it a bit tighter, not enough to hurt, but just enough to ache. His other hand comes down to smack your ass, the rings on his hand making the flesh sting from the impact. You hear Klaue release a soft curse as he caresses where he spanked you. He smacks you again in the same spot and you cry out. “God, you’re fucking beautiful,” he says. “Look so fucking good taking all of me, such a good girl.”

His hand releases your hair and wraps around your front to tease around your clit. You are at the precipice of your climax, lost in the ecstasy of him filling you completely once the two of your find a rhythm; your legs tremble as your walls begin to twitch around his cock. “I’m so close, Uri,” you say pushing back against him.

“Me too. But ladies first,” he purrs right in your ear.

His fingers find your clit directly and the sensation is almost too much, so much so that you start to shake, but Klaue grips your shoulder with his other hand to keep you in place while he fucks you and touches you. “You can take it, baby,” he purrs. “Come for me.”

Jolts of pleasure rock through your body and you’re pushed over the edge. Your walls clench tightly around him and your hear him moan in pleasure as he helps you ride through your orgasm. You feel your essence running down your leg and hear the wet slaps of Klaue still fucking you. “That’s my girl,” he says. “Now it’s my turn.”

He places his hand on your neck and guides you to straighten up as he fucks you. His hand trails up further to cradle your jaw and he turns your face toward him. “Let me hear you,” he says. “Where do you want me?”

“Please, Daddy. Please come inside me,” you plead.

Klaue grins as he lets your face go and picks up the pace. Your hips are sure to be sore from how hard he’s pushing you against the counter. He gives one last thrust with a shout and you feel him spill into you. Without removing his cock, Klaue leans over and kisses your shoulder before resting his forehead on you. “Good girl,” he says out of breath.

He pulls out and you can feel your slick mixed with his spend dripping out of you. He steps back and watches it for a moment. “So fucking beautiful,” he says using his fingers to stuff it back inside you. “Hold onto that for me, sweetheart.”

The two of you clean up and you run a bath for the both of you. Klaue leans back against the edge of the tub while you straddle him. You trace your fingers over his tattoos. “You were gone awhile this time,” you say softly following the tendrils on his chest with your index finger.

He sighs tiredly as if the reminder of business was exhausting on its own. “Lot of traveling,” he said. “Had to stay awhile in Singapore before going back to the coast.”

“Singapore,” you say. “One of these days you should take me traveling.”

He grins and kisses you. “Oh yeah?” he says. “Where do you want to go?”

“Hmm...Monaco.”

“I’ve been there a few times,” he says. “Like the beach there.”

“I’d like to see the beach there,” you say playfully while running your hands along his chest.

“How about I take you out on a yacht instead?” he says.

There’s a playfulness in his eyes, a bright lust for life that swallows you whole and holds you there.

“I’d like that,” you say softly before kissing him.

After the bath, Klaue relaxes in the living room while you prepare dinner. He’s turned on the flat screen to a soccer game. You hear him shout and cheer at the players on the screen.

No one else who has ever been in sort of relationship with you has ever received this treatment in your home. It was cut and dry; you fuck them, they pay you, and then they leave.

But for Klaue, you liked having him around, liked actually spending time with him.

Did he feel the same about you? Of this you weren’t sure.

The two of you sit at the table eating the food you’ve made: Japanese style curry and rice. You learned that Klaue’s palate was just as adventurous as he was. There was hardly a food he shied away from. You admired his courage and eclectic tastes. He takes your hand, kisses it, and thanks you for the meal. You smile watching him eat with gusto. “Getting too tired of eating shit while I’m gone,” he says taking another large bite.

“Good thing you have me to take care of you,” you say.

“I count myself very lucky then,” he says with a smile.

After dinner, the two of you lay on a huge oversized pillow you have set up by a window that overlooks the city. It’s night so the lights from the buildings cast a soft glow into the room. There’s a couple of end tables with candles that also offer light and some drinks and snacks you’ve set out. You rest on Klaue’s chest, fingers dancing in the soft curls on his chest while he tells you stories about his adventures since you last saw him. It’s only the good things, nothing gruesome because you learned he doesn’t want to frighten you. Little does he know you crave to know everything about him, the good, the bad, and even the things he himself doesn’t know.

You listen to him, your attention fixated how every word rolls off beautifully with his accent.

“Pangolins?” you ask.

“Little armored creatures that roll into a ball and walk on two legs with their front paws together,” he explains. “Funny little things.”

“And you said they’re endangered?” you ask.

“Parts of the world use their scales for medicine,” he says. “Still some in the wild though.”

“That’s sad,” you say sitting up and reaching for some grapes you’ve set aside. “Oh, that reminds me!” you exclaim as you feed him a few grapes. “I saw that documentary you recommended.”

“Oh yeah?” he asks.

“Yeah!” you say popping a grape into your mouth. “Those things are weird! With their eyes and how they change colors!”

He lets out a belly laugh and you laugh, too. He pulls you to him and kisses you deeply. “I’m gonna miss you while I’m out tomorrow,” he says.

You sit up a bit looking confused, but trying not to let it show. “You’re leaving already?” you ask.

He props himself up and reaches for his drink on the table and takes a swig. “Just for a bit,” he explains. “Got something I need to take care of while I’m here. I’ll come right back though and take you out. How’s that sound?”

“I’d like that,” you say kissing him.

His hand cradles the back of your head, holding you steady as he deepens the kiss. He tastes like the spices, the grapes you fed him, and the liquor he’s been drinking. It’s a mix you want ingrained into your memory, a taste you’ll never tire of.

He pulls away from you and your eyes meet. He looks at you like he knows there’s something on your mind.

You really don’t know if he’d stay, if he could belong to you. His business aside, Ulysses Klaue is wordly man; money, jewels, fast cars, planes, the rarest of finds, adventure, he wants everything, wants to be everywhere, and more. It’s what you love most about him. He’d steal the stars if he could.

You break away from his gaze and kiss his cheek as you palm him through the fabric of his pants. He smirks and guides your hand past the hem. He lets out a soft sigh when you touch him. You work your hand on his cock for a bit, stroking it and gliding your thumb around the tip until it’s weeping. You slide further down the pillow and pull down his pants and boxers so that his length is fully exposed to you.

You adjust yourself on your knees and take him into your mouth. You relish the sound of his moan and look up to see him relaxed against the pillow. His hand comes up to rest on the back of your head and gently grasps your hair to guide your head up and down on his length. “I love how you look with my cock in your mouth, sweetheart,” he says looking down at you.

This drives you to take him deeper into your mouth making him inhale sharply. “Fuck, baby,” he whispers, his hips twitching to thrust into your mouth.

You slowly work your way further down his length until you have all of him in your mouth. Tears prick at your eyes as you feel him hit the back of your throat. You use one of your free hands to fondle the rest of his bulge and his grip on your hair tightens. You pick up the pace, bracing yourself on his thigh with your other free hand. You don't shy from making a sloppy mess on his length.

You feel his cock twitch telling you he’s close and proceed to hollow out your cheeks as you suck. He grunts as he comes into your mouth, his thick ropes coating your throat. You swallow his spend with him still in your mouth before sitting back on your knees to catch your breath.

Klaue adjusts himself back into his pants and sits up. He leans forward, places his hand under your chin, and tilts your head up to look him in the eyes.

You know you must be a sight; smeared make-up, glossy eyes with tear trails down your cheeks, lips swollen, drool and his spend at the corner of your mouth, and breathing hard, but he kisses your forehead. It comforts you that he likes you this way. Any other man would walk away, leave you to clean up, but Ulysses looks at you, really looks at you, and suddenly you’re ice cream on a hot summer day, melting under his gaze.

You can’t quit him, can’t get him out of your head. Your heart, your mind, and your body will always come back to him, like tides lusting for the moon.

He cradles your face in his hands and his thumbs wipe the corner of your eyes. “Sorry ‘bout the makeup, sweetheart,” he says with a chuckle.

Your hand finds his on your cheek. “This is the only acceptable way that you’re allowed to ruin my makeup,” you say smiling at him.

You enter your bedroom and see Klaue sitting on the edge of the bed removing his jewelry and setting it on the nightstand. You clamber behind him and begin massaging his shoulders. He lets out a content sigh as he relaxes. You eye the brand on his neck and your fingers ghost over it. You don’t know where it came from, but you know it’s not something he chose to have.

“Ulysses,” you say.

“Hm?”

“Do you ever...think there’s an end to what you do?” you ask tentatively.

“An end?” He chuckles. “Sweetheart, the day I stop is the day I’m dead. I’m good at what I do.”

“Well, I guess like, retirement, then,” you say moving back from him to lay down.

He shrugs and lays next to you. “Possibly. Probably spend my days out on an island somewhere,” he says. “Why?”

Because I want to go with you. Because I love you.

“Just curious,” you say snuggling close to him.

He sleeps without a shirt and you welcome the skin on skin contact. His arm cradles you to him as you lay on his chest.

He falls asleep first and you sit up a bit to admire him. The curls on his head rest to the side of his face and show off his jaw framed by his beard.

Your hand brushes across his biceps and then over to his chest. Scars pepper his skin and there’s a few new cuts and bruises that you now notice.

You run your fingers over the bumps, there’s ones that look like they’ve opened and had to heal multiple times over. You kiss his scars and fall asleep beside him.

When you wake up, you’re alone, your arm resting over a pillow where Klaue should be and that feeling comes back again, the feeling of being in love and being helpless to it.

You look out the window, the morning sun casting an orange glow on the city and daydream about a life when you can wake up next to Ulysses Klaue and not see an empty space.

#ulysses klaue #ulysses klaue x reader #klaue #klaue x reader #iafmwbty

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skzsofties · 4 years ago

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photograph

description: your boyfriend changbin is a soldier and is sent out for a mission. unable to contact him your heart is filled with longing and concern.

warnings: angst (i would say)

word count: 1.9k

a/n: omg, this is actually so dramatic, idk if you’ll enjoy it but i hope you’ll enjoy this one (●'◡'●), this was inspired by photograph by ed sheeran (i love ed sheeran so much)

taken from https://64.media.tumblr.com/434bf07aee36d6a5a4b1054e55a80d58/133e875cdcc41269-85/s400x600/3ae3da5c293138c0fd3d9042e8f4063008420bf5.gifv

(a/n: i can’t find a single way to be able to add this gif with an automatic credit, if anyone knows pls hit me up)

you watched the rain in front of the shop door, with the photos you had just washed out, as it poured, contemplating why you didn’t bring an umbrella. seeing a coffee shop close by, you place your photos delicately inside your bag and take a run for it. making it into the coffee shop you ordered a latte and sat at a seat right beside the window.

the raindrops on the window dripped down one by one as other raindrops hit the floor. the sound of the rain had calmed you, leaving you in a pretty good mood.

looking outside you see the couples walking hand by hand under one umbrella, looking happy to be under the presence of each other. looking at your phone, you open it pressing into that chat for the millionth time today, sending a message knowing that he wouldn’t see it.

- wishing you were here

was what you sent, wishing he would be in front of you drinking coffee with you while it was raining. he got you to enjoy the rain, since he’d love it. whenever he told you how much he loved the rain you’d always joke around saying that you should breakup, even though you knew how you could never break up with him. it wasn’t until one day when you guys played in the rain, you realized why he loved the rain that much, though the day after you both caught a cold, but it was fun. it was the first day you felt happy when it was raining.

reaching into your bag you found the envelope of washed out photos you had washed out today. bringing the envelope your fingers played with the flap, rubbing back and forth. wondering if you should look at the photos of you and him, changbin.

changbin was a soldier, protecting your country, and he loved what he was doing. over the years of dating him, he’s been on missions from time to time but it would never be long, yet this time it’s different. he’s left the country to a third world country, without cellular or a specific return date. you couldn’t do anything but let him go, it was his job and you couldn’t stop him. you still remember the days prior to his departure, how you stuck to him like a sloth hanging on a tree. trying to keep his smell and stay with him for longer. you’ve missed him so much, his talk, his smell, hi laugh, his everything.

staring at the envelope, you pondered whether or not you should open it. and in the end you did it, you opened it. you didn’t know if it would make you miss him more or if it would lessen your longing for him, but you didn’t care anymore, you just needed a hint of him.

your fingers reached into the envelope pulling out the pictures of all your memories together. flipping through them one by one, the sound of the rain continued to enter your ears, becoming music to your ears, bringing back the memories even more. you saw pictures that you and changbin took during your random road trips, pictures of him posing weirdly, pictures you took without him noticing. as you looked at these images it’s like they brought you back to those times, when you were happy together.

while flipping through the pictures you found the photo you took with him on your first random road trip together. you still remember that morning, you were talking about where you should go for your date in the afternoon. thinking about what you’ve haven’t done. then he suddenly thought out loud, “wait, y/n we’ve haven’t been on a road trip yet” and that’s how you guys went on your first road trip.

at first you were iffy about this idea, you were always more of a planning person, while he was more of a do it right now person. yet the light in his eyes made it impossible to say no to him. that day you didn’t go anywhere far, you just went to the nearest beach outside of the city. you both had a careless day and it might’ve been one of the best days you’ve had. you still remember the fight you two had that day about mint ice cream, having absolutely different opinions. sometimes you even wonder how you two got together, being so different from each other. these differences sometimes were the causes of your fights, but in the end of all the fights your love for him just grew.

noticing that you were getting too emotional inside of a coffee shop you decide to leave despite the rain. running with your jacket over your head, trying to block out the rain, yet the jacket didn’t block anything, wetting your shirt. suddenly you stopped running, maybe it was the pictures or the rain, you weren’t sure what it was, but you stopped. listening to the calming sound of the rain and looking at the puddles in the water.

you stared at yourself in the puddles, suddenly it was like he was beside you dancing in the rain. you suddenly start to dancing too, enjoying it. dancing to the splash of your shoes in the puddles, the sound of the distance cars. the taste of your drink still vividly in your mouth, making you feel happier. yet when you realized changbin wasn’t here to share this moment with you, to dance with you, your mood suddenly dropped, halting your steps. you started blaming the rain, blaming it for reminding you of changbin, blaming it for making you feel this way, blaming it for everything.

your pushed down emotions from before finally exploded, as you stood in the middle of the sidewalk. the sound of the rain and your sobs left in the air. having the rain drops wash your tears as you sobbed and sobbed, leaving only the sound of the busy city, your sobs and the rain.

by the time you had calmed down you were soaked, you stayed there listening to the sound of the rain again. having it wash down all your worries and so you suddenly didn’t worry anymore, you felt unexpectedly calm. unbothered by rain anymore you walked calmly down the street watching the happy families walk together, watching others happy, it made your heart warm up on this cold rainy day.

on the way back home you passed the bench where you and changbin passed most of your time together. it was the place where much memorable memories of your relationship happened. it was the place where he told you he was going on a mission for the first time, it was a pretty long time ago but it still felt like it was yesterday. back then you guys haven’t been dating for too long, but your feelings were already very deep. you still remember how scared you were, afraid that he was going to get hurt, afraid that your relationship will change. seeing your fear he had hugged you, placing your face on his chest and patting your back, trying to calm you down. after feeling you calm down he whispered into your ear, “don’t worry, just wait for me to come back”. his voice at that time had really calmed you down at that moment, though for the days that you were gone you weren’t calm at all.

the day when he came back, you had ran to him and stuck to him, you took a day off and did nothing but stay beside him. that day he would always complain about you following him anywhere, but you knew that he was secretly happy inside too.

you never really got used to this cycle of him leaving for missions though, it would always make you worry. it’s just that you’ve learned to accept the worry, though it would come back from time to time bugging you.

walking into your apartment you felt exhausted, you were just so emotional today. it probably was the rain you thought, it had to be the rain. you must’ve been crazy for staying in the rain for so long, you could already feel that you would wake up with a cold tomorrow. in the shower, the water droplets wetted your hair as you picked up changbin’s shampoo. ever since he had left you had started using his shampoo brand, hoping that it’ll still feel like he’s beside you and not far.

walking out of the shower, you placed on a hoodie he left you, hoping it’ll lessen your longing. you lied down in bed and closed the lights, earlier than usual, exhausted from this day and your emotions, trying to fall asleep. but it was difficult, you had tossed and turned. trying to think of something else but all you would think about was changbin and how much you missed him. sleeping since he had left had become difficult, since you couldn’t cuddle with him thinking about this had made you tear up.

before you didn’t even need anything to cuddle to sleep, but now you can’t. he had really changed your life you thought, he had made you a better person. thinking about all the ways he had changed you had caused a sob to slip out, and then more followed.

distracted by your sobs you missed the light from your phone writing:

-babie binnie: open up your door

changbin stood outside your door, smiling as he typed down the message. this wasn’t supposed to be a surprise, he just didn’t have enough time to tell you. the leave wasn’t planned and by the time he had cellular, he had to get on the plane. so he decided to make this a surprise, since you’d usually be awake at this time.

after standing there for a few minutes seeing no reaction he sent a message to you again, afraid to wake up the neighbors due to the thin walls.

-baby?

he typed, wondering if you’re okay, or if you’re ignoring him. starting to become worried he decided to ring the doorbell, hoping that your neighbors wouldn’t get woken up.

the doorbell had cut out your small sobs, and you stepped out of bed, with your arm wiping your cheeks as they wiped your tears dry. you walked towards your door, opening the peephole, looking at who the person is.

just one look was enough for you to recognize who it was, yet you couldn’t tell if it was all a hallucination. you opened the door, afraid to move and ruin the moment and find out it’s all fake.

“are you real” you whisper quietly not wanting to ruin the peace

“of course baby, I’m real” changbin replies with a chuckle laughing at your cuteness,“i’m finally home”

and you hugged him, ignoring all the words in your mind telling you that this is fake. the moment you had hugged him it was like 2 puzzle pieces had been placed together, he was still the changbin you knew, though he probably changed his shampoo so he smelt different, but everything else was the same.

“you smell like me” changbin said with his eyes closed after an inhale. you chuckled not giving him any reply, just a tighter hug. “i’m finally home” he whispers to himself, yet you still hear. and the night had continued on as it was, the rain still pouring. the only difference was that a person had finally returned home and your home had finally come back. you were both at home once again.

a/n: thank you for reading this tiny blurb, idk if it’s even good. i’ve edited it but, it’s pretty late and my brain is a bit iffy so if you find any spelling mistakes please feel free to tell me, or you could ignore it which is both fine for me.

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beauvibaby · 4 years ago

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need you - f.andersen

a/n: leave it up to me to write an emotional af Freddie fic at 9 o’clock on a Sunday morning 🙃 ok but honestly a pt.2 for this??? I’d be down to write it if you’d read it

warnings: death of parent, funeral talk, and soft!Freddie (lets be real we need a warning for that)

Word count: 3k

You stared blankly at the screen, the number flashing across your mothers phone, you just got here, it couldn't happen so fast, there’s no way. No one could move, your brother sat beside you already balling his fists, trying to hold back the tears as your mother started calling out for your father, who we all knew was gone now. You finally picked up the phone at the last second, answering before it could go to voicemail. “Is this Mrs. Y/L/N?” The nurse from the hospice center spoke coldly, you’re heart broke, “this is her daughter.” You answered, hands shaking, the words she muttered you didn't think you’d ever forget. “I’m sorry to tell you that Mr. Y/L/N passed at 6:47 this evening.” Her voice was level, you couldn't blame her, she probably made these calls everyday, but still anger coursed through you. Not at her, but at everything, at life, at god. Why would he take your father so soon? He was only 60, far too young to have suffered for over ten years the way he did. “We’re on our way.” You managed to whisper out as your mother clung to you, she screamed your dads name, as if he would appear, as if he would have never left. But, we all knew that wasn't the case. You couldn't bring yourself to cry, as horrible as it sounded, you were almost relieved, that he wouldn't suffer anymore, that you wouldn't have to watch him struggle to walk from one side of the house to the other without losing his breath. The car ride to the hospice center was a long one, despite your sister in law running nearly every red light to get there. Your mom cried the whole time, your brother angrily stared out the window, guilt eating at him for not spending more time with his father before he left. You, you just sat there, sadness rushing through your veins as you still couldn't bring the tears to fall, you watched out the window as the god forsaken building came into view, all that you could hear as you expertly made your way down the hallways were the last words you’re father told you before he was too out of it to communicate.

“I love you, baby, take care of your brother, okay?”

“Of course, daddy, I love you too.”

That was three days ago, the day they told you it was lung cancer, the day you came rushing over from work because the doctor needed to talk to the whole family. The day you called your brother and told him your dad was going to die, the day you went home and cried yourself to sleep on the floor with the dog, who himself was whining, already knowing that his favorite person was never going to come home. Your mind went to Freddie as you walked in, he was away, the hockey season had just started, and you told him your dad wasn't doing good, but you didn't admit to him just how bad, thinking you surely had a couple of weeks left, you knew Freddie would leave in a heartbeat to come be with you, and your mother who he had grown to love almost as much as his own.

You entered the room, freezing in the doorway as you saw him laid out on the bed, you knew what to expect, you knew what he would look like, you had seen your grandmother like this just a year before, but it made your gut wrench to see your dad so lifeless, the color already leaving his skin. “I’m gonna be sick.” You mumbled, rushing towards the bathroom, your brother tried to follow you to make sure you were okay, but you locked the bathroom door. You heard your mom telling him to let it go, knowing it wouldn't do anything but make it worse for you. You kneeled over the toilet, crying as you emptied your stomach. Instant relief hitting you, but after you flushed it, you sat on the floor, leaning against the wall, sobbing, finally, letting the emotions out. You tearfully pulled your phone out, eyes blurry with water as you shakily dialed Freddie’s number, you knew it was the middle of the game, he wouldn't see this for another hour or two at least, but you needed to tell him now, before the funeral planning got underway. As you figured, the phone call went to voicemail. “Freddie,” you paused, letting out a cry, knowing it was going to kill him, but you couldn't help it, “he’s gone, and, I-I-uh-I need you, please.” You whimpered into the phone hanging up right after. You didn't want to go through personally telling all your friends so as tacky as it might seem, you posted a picture of you and your father from when you were little, writing a simple caption, “heaven gained another angel tonight, love you always daddy” posting it and silencing your phone as you rinsed your mouth, walking out to join your grieving family. Your brother was by the window, his wife draped over his back, as if she could absorb his sadness. Your mother sat blankly by the foot of the bed, hardly being able to look at her husband laid there like that. “I love you, mom.” You whispered sitting beside her, you were the rock of the family, always, so she didn't hesitate to rest her head on her shoulder as she started crying for the millionth time tonight. You once again sat blankly, staring at your shoes, not wanting to imprint the image further into your brain.

***

You had all since gone back to your house, you went straight to your fathers office, already starting to sort through things, you knew you should take a moment, you knew you should let yourself grieve, but you couldn't. You took a garbage bag from the kitchen, bringing it with you and shutting yourself in there, your brother came in for a while, only telling you what he wanted to take back home with him for his kids. You gave him those items and he let you be, he was never good with his emotions, let alone dealing with yours. You had forgotten to turn your ringer back up on your phone so when you pulled it out to check the time you were shocked to see seven missed calls from Freddie, but one message that made relief hit you like a truck.

“I’m coming, the plane lands in thirty minutes.” That was sent well over an hour ago, only then did you realize it was nearing one am, you walked out of the office, your sister in law and brother sitting on the couch watching some Adam Sandler movie, your mother had gone to bed, the dog trailing along with her, keeping her company as if he could feel the pain radiating off of her. “Freddie will be here soon.” You announced softly, your brother nodded blankly, he got along well enough with Freddie, but you knew deep down Freddie had a certain level of disrespect for your brother, seeing how poorly he has treated you in the past, but Freddie was more of a man despite being younger than your brother, so you knew he wouldn't act on it. You sat down on the love seat, not wanting to be near them, but not wanting to be alone again, your mind wandered as you thought of how well Freddie and your dad had gotten along, it always made you happy, and your dad had been the one to realize you two would last before even you did. “You’re going to marry him one day, Y/N, wether I’m here or not, just know that I love him.” That memory brought tears to your eyes, and you shot up when you saw headlights outside, the uber dropping Freddie off in front of your house. You ran out the door, not caring how loud you were. “Freddie!” You shouted, making him whip around in the dark as he pulled his suitcase out of the trunk. He nearly dropped it down to the ground, not caring as he rushed to meet you. “Y/N, I’m so sorry, baby, so so sorry.” He whispered, kissing the top of your head repeatedly as you began to cry against him, “I wish I had been here, but I’m not going anywhere now, I promise.” He added making you nod against him, he shuffled to grab his bag with you still clung to him. “Come on, love, it’s cold outside, let’s go inside.” He shushed you, carefully walking with his free arm around you as the other pulled his suitcase along.

You entered the house, finally loosening your grip on him as Max your dog came barreling out of the room, tail thumping in excitement at the sight of your boyfriend. He reached down to pet the dog as you stayed glued to his side, not wanting to release the comforting grip he had on you. He slowly let go of you to greet your brother and sister in law, you let out an inaudible whimper when he let go of you, as soon as he released you he was back to you. Wrapping you up in his hold again as your brother and his wife made their way to the guest room. “Did you want to get some sleep?” He asked softly, toying with your hair as you nuzzled your face into his neck. You nodded softly, allowing him to lead you to your room, he knew this house like the back of his hand, “wait.” You muttered all of a sudden, letting go of him and walking into your dads office, you took the framed photo of you and him, bringing it into your room and placing it on your dresser, Freddie smiled softly pressing a soft kiss to your temple, before pulling out one of his shirts for you. “I know you’re going to want to take a shower.” He whispered, also knowing your routine like his own, you always wanted to shower after a long day, so you gave him a quick kiss, before trudging into the bathroom.

You let yourself get lost in the shower, meanwhile Freddie quietly made his way to your dads office, he went straight towards the closet, opening the doors slowly as he knew otherwise they would squeak, and he carefully opened the filing cabinet, and could tell by the later of dust on the handle that it probably hadn’t been touched since the day your father showed it to him. He reached in and felt around in the dark, letting out a relieved breath as he felt the small box. He pulled it out, and his eyebrows knit together as their was a note folded up and taped to it. He quickly opened it up, after checking to make sure the ring was still securely in the box, he smiled down at it, it was your grandmothers, and it was ko seceret to anyone that you wanted it to be your engagement ring. He had talked to your father months ago when he started going down hill, and he told Freddie where he hid the ring.

“Alright, Freddie, if you’re reading this note, obviously I didn’t stick around long enough to see this moment. You know you have my blessing to marry Y/N, you treat her better than I ever could’ve imagined, don’t let her go, son. Hold on tight to her... if you’re reading this the day I pass, which knowing my daughter you will be, in fear of her getting rid of the filling cabinet with this still in it. Hold on to this ring, give her some time, you’ll know when the moment is right.”

Freddie couldn’t help but let out a tearful chuckle at the so blatantly forward note your father had left, he heard the shower turn off and quickly made his way out of there, hiding the ring and the note in his suitcase. He changed into some sleeping clothes as your feet started padding down the hallway, “come here.” He whispered, laying back on the bed, you threw your dirty clothes into the corner, not caring enough to do anything else as you crawled in beside him, his large shirt fitting you like a short dress. You pushed your wet hair back and laid your head on his chest, “I love you, Freddie.” You whispered, tracing the pattern on his shirt, “I love you, Y/N.” He sighed in return, giving you an extra squeeze, silently telling you he’d always be here, no matter what.

And it’s true, he was, through all the funeral planning, through both your mother and your own breakdowns, he sat between you too at the funeral, you curled into his side, well he held your moms hand tightly, doing his best to comfort you both as your brother spiraled. He did everything you asked him too and then some, you mentioned needing to grocery shopping, and he offered, not giving you the chance to say no, but you went with him, needing to be out of the house, but he did it all. When your sister in law made the executive decision to have your two young nieces at the funeral-something you completely disagreed with-he helped entertain them, play with them, wiped their tears away when your brother was too busy in his own head to notice. Anyone who had seen the two of you doing all this would think it was your own family, and that made your heart break even more as it was the night after the funeral. Your brother and his family staying until the morning before making the four hour drive back to their home, you woke to a soft knock on your door. Freddie was out like a light, and he deserved to be, handling all these emotions by himself, so you carefully slid out of his grip, not noticing how he stirred when you did so. You opened the door and frowned as you saw your oldest niece, who was still only 7 standing in your doorway, her stuffed animal hugged to her chest, and tears littering her cheeks. “Sweetie, are you okay?” You soothed, kneeling down to her height, she shook her head, “mommy and daddy were arguing, I couldn’t sleep.” She explained to you and you had to hold back a sigh at how ridiculous your brother and his wife were. “Can I stay with you and uncle Freddie?” She whimpered, and your heart burst, she’d never called him that before. “Of course.” Freddie called from the bed, making you jump a little, “come on.” You held your hand out, she took it and followed you into the room, you turned your bedside lamp on, knowing she was scared of the dark. She climbed into the bed and instantly looked exhausted as she became sandwiched between you and your longtime boyfriend. He smiled when she pulled his hand to be on her, he kissed the top of her head, and then did the same to you, calming your nerves as you watched her breathing even out and her eyes rest peacefully.

“Uncle Freddie has a nice ring to it.” You whispered, he let out a breathy laugh, glancing down at the peacefully sleeping girl, he adored them, and it never failed to make your heart swell, he fit right in with your family. “It does.” He answered, thinking of how it will become permanent when he proposes to you in the morning.

***

You woke to both of your nieces jumping onto you, you let a groan out dramatically as you got smothered. “Good morning to you too, girls.” You teased, tickling their sides as you looked up to see Freddie in the doorway. “Girls, can you give me and aunt Y/N a minute?” He asked and they nodded, scurrying out of your room, you pushed yourself up in the bed, smiling at your boyfriend. He brought you a cup of coffee and placed it on your nightstand before pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “Good morning.” He whispered, fingers tangled in your messy hair. You smiled, your first genuine smile in almost a week as you took in the man before you, “good morning.” You responded happily, of course your heart still ached, but it was always easier to get through it when Freddie was here. “I don’t know if it’s the right time, and I don’t have a whole speech prepared, but this is just something I feel like I have to do.” He trailed off, going over to his suitcase, you furrowed your brows, watching him mutter to himself before standing triumphantly. The second he turned and you saw the oh so familiar red box, your heart skipped a beat, your eyes welled up with tears, for the first time in a long time, they were for good reasons. Your hands shot to your mouth as he nervously kneeled beside the bed, “yes!” You shrieked out, he shook his head in laughter, “can I ask first baby?” He joked, but you muttered an oh shit before nodding. “Y/N, will you marry me?” He skipped the whole spcheel, and you didn’t need to hear it anyways, just what he’s done for you and your family in the past week has shown how much he loves you. “Yes!” You shrieked out again, nearly tackling him to the ground in a hug, you peppered kisses all over his face before finally landing on his lips, giving him a kiss full of love. “Where’d you find it?” You questioned, you’d been looking for the ring for years, and your dad always said it was in a safe place. Freddie slipped the diamond ring on your finger, and of course, it fit perfectly. You looked up at him through your lashes as he did so, seeing the focus on his face as he did such a simple, life changing task. “Your dad told me where he hid it a few months ago.” Freddie admitted and you couldn’t help but let a laugh fall from your lips, that was so something he would do, “of course he did.”

Taglist: @thathockeygirl @literarycharleton

#frederik andersen #frederik andersen imagine #frederik andersen blurb #frederik andersen x reader #freddie andersen #nhl writing #nhl #nhl imagine #toronto maple leafs #toronto maple leafs imagine

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mazzy-moon · 3 years ago

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A Lone Butterfly - Chapter 8

Title of Chapter: An Eye For An Eye

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings/Tags: Death, Blood, Violence, Swearing, Grief, Non-gratuitous descriptions of gore, references to kidnapping

Pairing: Javier Peña (Narcos) x Isabel Cotrille (OFC)

Summary: A year has passed since Isabel was kidnapped and rescued by Javier. Despite establishing her new life thousands of miles away from Columbia, her past follows her.

Notes: This is a rough one, but I promise things will get warm, fuzzy, and sexy in the not too distant future. Thank you to anyone who takes the time to read my story. Love you. x

Find this chapter on ao3

ONE YEAR LATER

The sand squishes between my toes as I take my daily run along Cannon Beach. It's cold today. I wonder what the weather is like in Columbia right now. Warm as always, I'm sure. I pass the huge coastal rock jutting out from the water, my signal that I'm nearly back to my condo.

I throw the door open once I get there. Despite the cold I'm drenched in sweat. I reach my desk and read Javier's letter for the millionth time. He asks me about my life here, and how it's treating me. He tells me Columbia misses me, and that he does too. My heart warms. Before I jump in the shower, I decide to quickly write him a response. At the bottom, I include an inside joke from a conversation that seems decades ago now.

'P.S. - Don't go punching any strangers while I'm gone. Love, Isabel.'

I miss Javier. Miss him so much it hurts. Our brief time together forged a bond between us I can't comprehend. I've spent many nights thinking of the kiss we shared. How his hands roamed over my body. It still gives me chills.

Even though he's not here, the memories continue to help me heal from the pain of my past.

It's been nearly a year since I boarded the plane from Columbia. Javier had been right. Moving back here was the best thing for me. I've felt more myself than I have in a long time.

My best friend, Melody, has been great. She's put her social life on hold to be there for me in any way she can. We've spent countless nights making hit or miss dinners and watching tooth rotting rom coms. She also referred me to a counselor the first week I got here, which has helped me in immeasurable ways. It's made me face my trauma, but also helped me cope with it.

Slowly, but surely, the empty piece of myself is filling back up. I still get nightmares, though, and I hate walking the streets by myself, especially at night. I'm wary of strange men, and I never go anywhere without pepper spray. I still miss my mother terribly. And my father. Remembering Columbia brings joy and pain.

There are good days and bad days, but I now have a hope for my future that wasn't there a year ago.

I wrap up a mug to send to Javier along with my letter. I've taken up pottery in the past months and it has been one of the many things to help me cope. I wonder what he'll think of the blue and gold painted creation.

The phone rings. It's Melody.

"Are you down for grabbing some Mexican tonight? There's a new place that just opened up downtown I've been wanting to try. Maybe we could catch a late movie afterwards?"

It was a Friday and I had no plans for the evening.

"Sounds fun, let's do it."

"Awesome! There is one thing though. I just put my car in the shop, is there anyway you could swing my place before?"

"Yeah, that should work. I'll pick you up around six."

"You're the best. See you then. Love ya."

"You too."

We say goodbye.

Later, I get ready for the night. Pulling a powder blue blouse over my head, I glance down at my bedside clock. I have a few minutes before I go to pick up Melody. I grab my keys, purse, and phone before heading out. I run back in, having forgotten Melody's gift. She went out of town for her birthday last week so I never had a chance to give her the gift I made. The intricate cake stand took hours, but I know she'll enjoy using it at her bakery. There's no bag, but it's too late to worry about now. I place it in the passenger seat and head out.

It's nearly dark when I get there. I hate driving to her place. It's cradled in between dense woods on either side and completely devoid of neighbors. I groan as my car reaches the dirt road leading up to her cabin. The looming trees extinguish most of the sun's fading light. As I reach the end of the drive way, I pull out my phone to tell her I'm here. I wait a few minutes but no answer. I'll just go up to the door.

I grab her present from the front seat and step out of my car. The damp earth cakes the bottom of my shoe as I tread up to the entrance of Melody's house. I knock, but she doesn't come. The lights are on, and I can hear music coming from inside. She must not hear me.

I twist the knob. It's unlocked. The minute I step inside I know something is off. Nothing seems to be out of place, but the atmosphere settles around me in a disquieting way.

"Melody, I'm here!" I yell towards the towards the top of the stairs.

Still nothing.

Something is wrong. I'm scared to go upstairs, but I do it anyway. I force myself to put one foot in front of the other. The panicky feeling I haven't had in a while creeps back in.

I hear the cake stand fall from my arms and shatter to a million pieces when I reach the top.

The lower half of Melody's body lies in front of me. The rest is hidden by the half closed bedroom door. I rush towards her, praying she's alive.

She's bleeding. It's everywhere.

"Melody! Melody!" My heart threatens to burst out of my chest. "Can you hear me, Melody? Answer me!"

She lies still. Somewhere deep down I know my friend is gone. As soon as my gaze shifts to her face I involuntarily fling myself from her.

A shard of glass sticks out from one eye. Everything is such a mess I didn't notice it at first. I sob loudly, barely recognizing my own voice. Slowly, I shift onto my knees towards her. I reach out for her hand, noticing the scrap of paper clutched in its grasp. I unfold the scrap between sobs.

Ojo por ojo.

An eye for an eye. The phrase has been written in blood.

I run down the stairs and back to my car as fast as my body will allow me. I yank my phone from my purse and dial the police.

It doesn't all set in until after the police have rolled her body away, pronouncing her dead at the scene. They ask me all the normal questions and I robotically answer. I'm a million miles away. They ask me about the note then. I tell them I knew it's meaning the moment I read it. I explain to them everything that happened in Columbia. Their next step is to contact Officer Santiago to fill him in on the situation and decide on how to proceed.

I don't go home that night. They assign me to the Witness Protection Program and place me under guard in a remote location an hour away.

As I'm sitting at the tiny home's kitchen table, my phone buzzes. I recognize the number and pick up on the first ring.

"Javi," my voice is shaky and barely there.

"Isabel, I just heard what happened. Are you safe?"

"I'm f- fine. I'm in the middle of nowhere, but there's guards with me."

He pauses and I hear a heavy sigh on the other end.

"Fuck, Isabel. I'm- I'm sorry this is happening."

"It's not your fault."

"It is. We should've caught these guys by now. The fact that they left the country and weren't even on our radar- this is a fucking mess."

I try to hide my cries but he must sense it anyway. Something about hearing his voice after everything that's happened makes me finally let go.

"Shh. Don't cry. Listen, I'm gonna come up there. I can get on a plane within a couple days."

"No, Javier, you can't do that."

"They traveled countries to get to you, Isabel. I have to-"

"No, you can't do anything from here. The police are taking care of me, Javi. I'll be okay. I can't keep you from doing what you can to catch them."

We go back and forth but he finally decides to stay in Columbia as long as I update him each day. We say our goodbyes, and I almost beg him to come to me. I crave his arms. But I can't bring myself to be that selfish.

Being cooped up in the hide out cabin reminds me of my boredom back at the hospital in Columbia. I'm not allowed to leave and there's little to do here. I have endless amounts of books though. I skip the murder mysteries, preferring to drown myself in the pile of vintage romance novels tucked away in a rusty cabinet. Melody would have loved these books. She was a sucker for this stuff.

I've had to stop myself from picking up the phone to call her more times than I can count. It may not be medically possible, but I swear my heart physically aches at the thought of my best friend. I'd known her my entire life. I couldn't imagine life without her. I couldn't have imagined life without my mother and father either, but here I am. Life was cruel thing, hungry for peace and stealing it when you least expect.

After several days spent in solitude at the hide out, one of my guards informs me we are taking a trip back to the station. I ask what for, but am given no answer.

Once there, I'm informed I am to go back to Columbia. Javier's task force has caught Matías. I am the only one that can positively identify him.

I grip the seat beneath me.

It seems Columbia is not done with me yet.

#javier pena #javier pena fic #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena imagine #javier #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #narcos #narcos fic #a lone butterfly series #javier peña

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kerikaaria · 4 years ago

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If I Never Met You: Chapter 13

(??? X Reader) Idol!AU, Manager!Reader

Genre: (PG13) Fluff

WC: 2.4k

Warnings: None

Series Masterlist

Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14

The following days blurred together, all passing along in a similar way. The boys working hard on their album, Sejin and I working on trying to get more exposure for them, me occasionally making some time to attend one of their practices, and being able to eat meals with the boys here and there so we could catch up.

Whenever I was at the company, I was too busy and preoccupied to notice if people were talking about me and hadn’t had anymore run-ins with that rude woman (whose name I still didn’t know), which was definitely preferable for me. Before I knew it, it was April and the boys were all but ready to debut. Although, they still practiced hard every day to make sure they were perfect with everything.

I started to feel anxious about when we’d finally get a broadcasting company to give us a call and say they could debut on their music show, but we didn’t have any luck yet. Sejin didn’t show it very much, but I thought he was getting antsy about it too.

By this time I was starting to really feel homesick and miss my family, but I didn’t have enough money to pay for plane tickets. While I did of course get paid and didn’t need to pay rent yet, I found myself using a lot of my paycheck on the boys too. Because the company only had so much money they could spare for them, they often paid for things out of their own pockets from the money their parents sent them. So I would frequently buy groceries for them and anything else they needed whenever I could to help.

I had a day off where I was supposed to take the day to just relax. But to be honest, sitting at home alone was really boring. So here I was, watching as the boys were working on perfecting the dance for We Are Bulletproof Pt. 2 for the millionth time. They finally decided to take a break, completely worn out and collapsing to the floor.

“I literally didn’t sign up for this,” Suga said in between breaths. “I was told I didn’t need to dance.”

“That was back when we were supposed to be strictly a rap group, hyung,” Namjoon responded.

“But I still didn’t sign up for this,” Yoongi reiterated.

I walked over to start delivering water bottles to each of the exhausted boys so they didn’t need to get up.

“How does it look, noona?” Hobi asked.

“I think it looks amazing,” I responded with a big smile. “You know I’m not a dance expert but you guys are so impressive. Including you,” I said as I lightly tapped Yoongi with the tip of my shoe.

“Do you think it’s good enough to perform on stage?” Jimin asked.

“More than enough!” I confirmed. “I have watched a lot of groups’ performances and you guys are definitely more than cut out for it.”

My phone started ringing from my bag that was sitting on the floor, so I walked over to answer. It was a number I didn’t recognize. “Hello?” I answered.

“Hello. Is this (Y/n) from Big Hit Entertainment?” the caller asked.

“Yes, it is,” I responded, somewhat surprised. It was the first time I got a call relating to work. “How can I help you?”

The woman said she was calling from one of the broadcasting stations that we’ve been visiting every now and then for the last two months. When I heard that, my heart started racing and I looked over at the boys who were still collapsed on the floor, but were all watching me with curious eyes.

“I was calling to let you know that we would be happy to debut your group, BTS,” the caller said. “We could put them in for June 13th.”

My face lit up. That sounded perfect. We still needed to film the music videos and do the photo shoots for the album, but based on what I knew we could definitely get that done within two months. “Yes, that sounds great!” I finally managed to respond, a smile taking over my face.

“Wonderful. I’ll put them into our schedule for a debut showcase that day. I’ll be in touch for us to work on more details later.”

“Yes, thank you so much!” I said and we said goodbye before hanging up.

“Who was that, (Y/n)?” Seokjin asked. “Why do you look so happy?”

“Guys!” I said, rushing back over to them and almost slipping from stopping so suddenly. “It looks like we got a debut date for you!”

“Really?!” they all asked at once.

“Yes!” I confirmed. “They said they can fit you in on June 13th.”

“You’re not joking, right?” Namjoon asked.

“Why on earth would I be joking about something like this?” I responded. “Of course I’m not!”

The boys who were so exhausted they could barely stand just a moment ago were now full of energy from excitement. Next thing I knew, I was getting attacked with hugs from Jimin and Jungkook, and the rest of them soon followed to create a big group hug.

I felt Jungkook shaking so I looked at him to see he had tears in his eyes. “Jungkook, why are you crying?” I asked him, stroking his hair.

“I’m just so happy that our hard work is going to pay off,” he responded in between sniffles.

“Yah, don’t cry,” Jimin said. “You’re going to make the rest of us start crying.”

Everyone was silent for a moment except for a couple sniffles here and there, not just from Jungkook but a few of the others as well.

“Alright!” Hoseok finally interrupted the moment. “We know we have a debut coming soon, so we better make sure we’re flawless. Let’s go!”

Everyone agreed, and went back to practice both of their songs with their renewed energy while I exited the room to call Sejin and tell him the good news.

We had to communicate with the company a bit more to confirm things had been arranged and then we were set to go. The next couple of weeks were jam-packed with work. Now that a show agreed to showcase their debut, we needed to get the other stations to schedule them into their shows in the days afterward – which was a lot easier to get them to agree to than the debut stage itself. And we needed to work with others in the company to get everything regarding their music videos and photoshoots scheduled and arranged.

While two months was enough time to arrange everything, we had to make sure it all moved both as quickly and as smoothly as possible. Because of that Sejin and I were busier than ever, and I only got to see the boys once in a while.

In the midst of working on preparations, Bang PD-nim asked me to pay him a visit to his office. When I got there, I found all seven members of BTS there as well, standing to fit into the space that became a little cramped when there were so many people in it.

“Hello, PD-nim,” I greeted with a smile.

“Hello, (Y/n),” he replied. “I’m glad you had a moment to spare in your busy schedule.”

“Of course, PD-nim. I always have time for you,” I responded with a slight bow.

He chuckled. “Glad to hear it.”

I felt a tug on my arm, and looked to see Jimin pulling me towards him and the others, soon wrapping me in a hug.

“So first I want to apologize for asking so many of you to be in my office at once,” PD-nim said. “But it’s just easier to have to say this only once. I called you all here because I have a surprise for you.”

I saw curious and excited reactions from the boys around me, and I was definitely curious myself. But we all stayed silent as we waited for him to elaborate.

“I apologize for not being able to offer more of a budget to you guys up to this point,” PD-nim continued. “I know you understand our financial situation, but that doesn’t make it any less hard. So, even though it may not be a huge improvement, I was able to work out a slightly more comfortable accommodation for you all.”

“We’re moving?” Namjoon asked, sounding excited.

PD-nim chuckled. “Yes. You’re moving.”

Various cheers rang out from the boys, and I couldn’t stop from smiling at the great news.

“Again, it’s not a huge improvement, but it is an improvement nonetheless,” Mr. Bang reiterated. “Hopefully, it won’t be too long before we can start doing even better,” he added with a smile.

“So am I moving too?” I asked.

“Yes. I still want you close to the boys. So you’ll be in the apartment across the hall from theirs. And in case you’re wondering, yes it is with the same arrangement we currently have.”

“Alright, sounds great,” I replied. “When is the move?”

“We’ll be getting you guys moved on May 12th.”

“Wait, can some of us live with noona?” Jungkook asked.

“Jungkook!” I responded. “We’ve already been through this.”

“While I’m sorry that she gets a place to herself while you seven share, I’m sorry but that’s not possible,” PD-nim backed me up. “Just imagine the headlines when the press inevitably finds out some of you are living with a girl.”

Jungkook frowned, but seemed to understand as he nodded.

We all left excited and happy that they were going to have some more space to themselves. I didn’t care too much about my personal space, since I was just one person and I didn’t need a lot of room. I hoped the place I was moving to was a bit smaller in size and cheaper so he was able to spend more money on the boys’ accommodations.

Despite the awesome news, of course the following days were still the same, just as busy as ever in preparing for the boys’ debut. A few days later, Sejin and I were in the middle of a meeting to finalize their wardrobe (some of which I had a lot of questions about but my opinions were shut down rather harshly) when I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. Seeing that it was the woman from the broadcast station for their debut, I excused myself to take the call.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Hello, (Y/n)-shi.” She replied. “I called because I had something to tell you.”

“Yes, of course,” I responded. “What do you need?”

I could hear her sigh. “My boss told me that we can’t debut your group.”

My heart sank. “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” I hoped that I heard her wrong.

“I’m sorry to tell you, but when he looked over the upcoming schedule, he told me to tell you we can’t debut BTS,” she restated. “He said your company is too small and we shouldn’t waste time doing a stage for a group that probably isn’t going to get any attention.”

It took me a moment to gather my words. “Please, is there any way we can change his mind?”

“I already tried. I feel bad having to go back on it after I already told you we could, but he really wasn’t changing his mind.”

“I’ll do anything I can to keep them on the schedule. Please,” I practically begged.

“I’m really sorry but there isn’t anything I can do for you. Goodbye.”

Before I could get another word in she hung up the call. I immediately tried calling her back, but of course she didn’t answer. I felt like curling up in a ball and bursting into tears right then and there. But I couldn’t. I had a meeting to go back to, so my emotions would have to wait. I composed myself as much as I could and re-entered the meeting room.

After it was over, Sejin and I walked back to our office. Oppa closed the door and asked me, “Who was it that called you?”

“It was the broadcasting station that said they’d debut BTS,” I replied quietly.

“What did they need?” He asked since I didn’t continue.

“She…” I started, but I really didn’t know how to say it. I closed my eyes and tried to keep the tears I felt stinging behind them from forming. “She said they can’t debut them anymore.”

Sejin was silent for a moment. “Are you sure that’s what she said?”

“Yes. I couldn’t believe it at first so I asked for clarification. She said her boss said they can’t debut them because of our company being small and we can’t promise their success.”

It made me jump when I heard Sejin slam a fist onto the desk. “This has to be a joke,” he said, running his fingers through his hair. “We’ve been preparing for a few weeks, already have multiple schedules set for their debut, and they’re going back on it now?”

I just stood there with my head hung low. “I’m sorry, oppa. I’ll take full responsibility for whatever needs to be done.”

“Don’t apologize.” He almost sounded angry, which made me quickly look up at him. “And you don’t need to take responsibility for anything. This isn’t your fault. Don’t you dare think it is.”

I nodded, and we stayed there in silence for a moment. “What do we do?” I finally asked.

“We try to get their debut back on track, that’s what we do. We’re still going to keep all their schedules, the photoshoot and music videos, everything. We need to convince them to put them back in their schedule. If we have to cancel their appearances on the other shows we’ll become a joke and it’ll be that much harder to get them debuted.”

“Okay. I’ll do everything I can, oppa. I promise.”

“Even if it’s not the same company, we need someone to do it. I don’t care who at this point.”

“Understood. I’ll do my best.”

“Also, don’t tell them quite yet. If we can fix this quickly, there’s no need to worry them with it. I’ll let Bang PD-nim know of course, but this doesn’t need to go any farther than that for the time being. You and I are going to be running around even more than we have been to fix this. Just promise me you won’t tell anyone else, okay?”

“I promise,” I said, pulling out my phone to make some phone calls to try to get their debut back on track.

Series Masterlist

Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14

Tags: @calling-dips-on-j-hope @misohime @netflix-batman-sleep

Send me a message or ask if you want tagged!

#BTS fanfic #BTS x reader #thebtswritersclub #If I Never Met You #IINMY #Manager!reader #Idol!au #jin #seokjin #suga #yoongi #j-hope #hoseok #rm #namjoon #jimin #v #taehyung #jungkook #fluff

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kunderdogs · 5 years ago

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Take A Chance IV

Simon Dominic (AOMG) x Y/N (Reader) Genre: Romance / Angst Count: 2.4k+ Warnings: None Rating: Mature (suggestive, swearing) Summary: Who would’ve thought a one night stand with Simon D would turn into FWB? It only gets more complicated when you developed feelings, against your better judgement.

Over the course of two weeks, you and Kiseok had a pretty good routine going on. He didn't come over every night, more like every other but he called and texted you nearly every chance he got.

At first you didn't think anything of it. He would ask you how your day was, if you ate and how you were feeling. Nothing crazy or out of pocket. It was innocent most of the time, and usually followed up by making plans to see you later on.

There was nothing you could do to stop your heart from bursting out of your chest each time you heard a small chime. Nicole had glared at you once when you two were on lunch and you scrambled over the table to reach your phone.

"Is that Lover Boy?" She teased. You were thankful that, out of all the nicknames she could've used - and she had a lot of them -, lover boy was the one she had stuck with. For now.

"What?" You feigned ignorance, "I have no idea what you're talking about. That's...Amazon. My package was delivered."

She smirked, sipping her iced tea, "I'm sure it was."

After a few days, Kiseok's texts became a little more...risky. You had no problem with sexting. When in the right setting, it was hot but he would send you wild shit while you're in the middle of a meeting, or when you're trying to finish up the last of your work before heading to see him. Usually you could play it off then retreat to the bathroom to respond but when he sent a voice recording of that damned deep voice of his, you stood from your desk and went to the stairs corridor to call and cuss him out for getting you bothered at eleven in the morning. You promised punishment as soon as you were off and Kiseok was, to say the least, intrigued. That night he was stunned at how different you could be if he gave you the reigns. Days after that, he still catches himself staring after you with amazement.

From that point on, he pretty much figured out that he could make you do nearly anything with a certain voice. It was a dangerous game that you two played. It only escalated when he coaxed you to touch yourself in the private bathroom at your company with him on FaceTime. You were lucky that you had finished in record-breaking time, before any of your coworkers (or God forbid, your boss) found out what exactly you were doing.

By the time the third week rolled around, Nicole had stopped hounding you for details of your hookups. Instead, she cautioned every now again. Typically, it was the same thing.

"Don't get too attached."

"He's a celebrity. You know how society is to foreigners dating celebs."

"What if he's a player? I just don't want you to get hurt."

While you appreciated her concern, you knew it was already too late not to get attached to him. Other than text you constantly, Kiseok did little things that had your head and heart confused.

On his bad days, he would complain to you about what happened and asked for your advice, if you had any to give, on the topic. He joked and teased you just like a friend would and willingly showed you pieces of his personal and work life as well. It was subtle at first - videos of him in the studio and then pictures of his friends when he was telling you a story about them. Each time, he would bring you food or have something delivered so you both got to learn each other's eating and drinking habits. You had seen him tipsy but he made it a point not to over do it in front of you.

Kiseok was also very considerate of you and your time, which you appreciated more than anything else. He didn't hound you if you didn't text back immediately and understood if you were swamped at the office or had to cancel that one time because the work would not be done until late in the night. He just told you to take care of yourself and later, had a pizza ordered to your job. It was around that time that you noticed you were falling a little too fast. You hadn’t admitted it out-loud, instead you chose to ignore those feelings completely. Hopefully, they would magically disappear into thin air.

You both didn't get into intimate details of your life. It was only by a weird stroke of luck that he hadn't found out about Cookie. She usually called right after you got off work anyway. Kiseok was busy during the day so when you went out to meet with your daughter and her father on your off days, he was in the middle of his own jam-packed schedule. Really, he was only available during the night time so you were more of a booty call than a FWB at this point. Neither of you had defined the "relationship" so far though, so it was hard to put a name to it right now.

It was Saturday when you woke up early and got dressed in casual clothes to go with Cookie to the zoo. Her, her father and his girlfriend were flying back to the US tonight so they wanted to do one last thing to fill the hours before the boring plane ride. You had cried last night as you thought of being without your mini-me for two whole months but his family hadn't seen her since she was much younger. You knew she would have fun, especially since his parents were dying to take her to Disneyland. You wished you could take an extended vacation and go with them but you had used most of your vacation days to take Cookie to Disney World for her birthday and that was only a couple of months ago.

Either way, you were sadder these past two days and thankfully Kiseok was swamped with an upcoming project so he hadn't been over in about four days. You didn't have to explain your blood-shot eyes.

You had so much fun at the zoo with your daughter that you didn't bother touching your phone. Your ex had taken most of the pictures for you all with promises to send them to you. It was around two in the afternoon when you four decided to go to a nearby burger joint and get some lunch. Cookie was shoving her face with chicken tenders so you decided to check your phone to pass the time. There were a few new gray message bubbles.

'Hey sexy thang ;)' 10:09AM

'This song better go double platinum with all the work I'm puttin in this bitch' 11:32AM

'Don't tell me you're asleep still?' 11:38AM

'I'm going to find a way to get your sexy ass as a video vixen one of these days' 11:47AM

'Argggh PD is calling me back. Text me when you wake up' 11:51AM

'We should be done by 2. Loco is taking me to some new place for food then I'm free. Can I swing by your place?' 11:52AM

Of course they were all from Kiseok. Not even your mother texted you as much as he did and although you liked the attention, right now you wanted to focus on Cookie since you won't physically see her for weeks after this. You frowned to yourself, feeling tears well up in your eyes for the millionth time today. You were going to miss her so much.

Composing yourself, you quickly typed a reply back. 'Hey. I'm up, just a little busy today. I won't be able to see you tonight. Maybe tomorrow if you're free?' 2:16PM

With that, you locked your phone and slid it in your pocket, once again forgetting about it soon after.

Your ex's girlfriend, Mia, nudged you slightly when she saw how pensive you were. "Hey, you okay? Was that work?"

Shaking your head, you took a breath, "No, I'm just gonna miss having my best friend around."

Cookie popped up, french fries sticking out of her mouth, "I'm gonna miss you too, mommy!" Her curly hair was pulled into two pony-tails, coils springing happily as she devoured the food in record-breaking time. "Don't cry! I'll make daddy buy you a Tiana dress so we can match!"

You laughed at the sight, tears pooling in your eyes again as her father pouted. "Ok, sweetie, I'd love to match with you."

About thirty minutes later, you all were getting ready to leave when Mia said she'd swing by and grab the rental car from the parking lot. They had to go to back to their hotel to pack. You all said your goodbyes, tears flowing freely between you and Mia. Cookie looked concerned for you as she wiped your tears, kissing your cheeks to reassure you.

Your ex hugged you and thanked you again, his eyes sparkling with happiness to have his precious daughter with him. You wished you could go with them once again as you watched their car drive off.

Back at home, you were greeted with a depressingly quiet apartment. It was cold and dark, something that was going to be a common occurrence for the coming weeks. Sniffling, you made your way to Cookie’s room, scanning her pink room with a blurring gaze. You were slowly walking around the room when you felt your phone ring.

It was Mia.

"Hello?" You called, wondering what could've happened in the last hour since you parted ways.

"Hey, Y/N, Cookie is freaking out because her father forgot to ask you to bring her Peach doll," Mia nearly shouted over the distraught crying in the background. You could hear your ex trying to console Cookie, to no avail. "Can you meet us at the airport with it?"

Searching the room, you spotted the Princess Peach doll on her bed and nearly sprinted out of the door. "I got it. When is your flight again?"

"Boarding is in another hour and a half."

Shit. You scrambled to snatch your keys and shoved the doll in your purse. "Okay, I'll leave now and meet you at departures, okay? Tell Cookie mommy's on the way."

You hung up and made a mad dash down to the parking garage. The airport was about a forty-five minute drive from your place, not including traffic or any other delays like the predictable Seoul rush hour.

At his own apartment, Simon was lounging on his couch, laptop on his chest as he worked. Loco was right next to him, on Face Time with the one and only Jay Park as he was at the airport.

"Have a safe flight," Loco was saying before Kiseok slid shoulder-to-shoulder with him.

"Get there and back in once piece, boss," the oldest one teased and Jay laughed. Unfortunately, he was distracted a little too long because he suddenly collided into a woman. The phone fell, face up and there were suddenly two faces on the screen.

His body guards reacted immediately and made sure the two were alright. Mildly interested, the two on the other side of the line watched on.

"I-I'm so sorry, oh God, I'm just in a rush." The woman's voice was so eerily familiar to Kiseok that he took a second to strain to hear it over the airport commotion.

Jay was off to the side, picking up his passport and other belongings that fell. "Nah, it's alright. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, thank you. Again, I'm so sorry I wasn’t- Is this your phone?"

Without further ado, the woman picked up Jay's phone, and Kiseok felt his eyes bulge out of his skull when her face came into view.

What was Y/N doing in the airport? Loco didn't notice the other's tense reaction and simply waved at the stranger. You didn't seem to glance at the screen, yet they could easily notice your tear-stained cheeks, and just passed it back to the owner.

Over Jay reassuring her that it was fine for the third time, a loud and very male voice yelled. "Y/N! There you are!"

With another apology, you left the frame and turned towards the male voice. Jay watched the interaction for a second before continuing on his way, which was conveniently right past you. Loco was talking to the CEO like that didn't just happen when Kiseok saw you in the frame again. He was positive it was you this time around.

You wore that over-sized gray sweater that he thought was so cute on you, hair tied messily and hugging a handsome foreigner tightly. He pulled back from the hug and pushed back some pieces of your hair from your face before smiling, his lips moving. Staring up to him, you nodded, wiping your face with your sleeves. He brought you back to his chest, arms around your shoulders.

Involuntarily, Kiseok felt his jaw clench at the display of affection. His eyes tore from the phone quicker than he meant to, causing his junior to stare at him in confusion.

For the rest of the night, Loco was warily watching as the older man was fuming next to him. There was hardly any movement from his part and he was sure he was in a coma until Simon wiped out his phone, tapping it a few times before pressing it to his ear.

“Nayoung? It’s been a while. Are you free right now?”

Almost choking on his coke, Hyukwoo coughed. Why was Kiseok calling her, of all people? Once the call wrapped up, he nervously voiced his concern, “Hyung...Why are you calling her at this hour..?”

He didn’t get an immediate response, instead, Kiseok stood and glared with the power of a thousand suns at the TV in front of them.

“Am I not single? Can I not do what I want, with whoever I want, too?”

Without any further explanation, he stormed out of the apartment all together.

Hyukwoo stared after the front door in confusion. “Too?”

#simon dominic #simon dominic scenarios #aomg #aomg scenarios #jung kiseok #aomg simon d #simon d scenarios #jay park #loco #kunderdogs #kunderdogs scenario #take a chance #chapter four

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ineverhaveanynormalfans · 4 years ago

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Undisclosed

Fandom: Criminal Minds Warnings: Canon rewrite Pairing/s: Emily Prentiss x Original Character Authors Note:

A slight rewrite and coda to Season 11 Episode 19 Tribute. Emily enlists the help of the BAU in tracking a serial killer who is mimicking famous murders across the globe. However, the recent addition of two new rings on Emily's left hand has her old team questioning when she got married and to whom?

This is part one of a new series, a story that has been brewing in my mind for years with an original character. My Kinktober 2020 series was written with this character in mind as the reader insert but they don't have to be read that way by others.

Word Count: 1406

AO3

“I've always heard every ending is also a new beginning, we just don't know it at the time, I'd like to believe that's true.” Emily Prentiss.

Emily Prentiss awoke with a jolt and sat bolt upright in bed trying to catch her breath. The nightmare had become hauntingly familiar, a replaying of the night a young inspector had lost her life in an undercover role Emily had pushed her to take. ‘Baby? Same one again?’ Your warm hand rubbed small circles on her back as Emily nodded and buried her face in her hands, struggling to ground herself in the here and now and not in that night. A soft kiss to her exposed shoulder made her look around and into the concerned eyes of her partner. ‘I’m ok’ she lied ‘go back to sleep love.’ Getting up before this turned into another discussion of her coping methods Emily padded into the en-suite bathroom, closing the door firmly behind her. Sighing you vowed to keep a closer eye on her and rolled over, falling back to sleep before she emerged and crept back into your bed, another sleepless night ahead of her.

The case in New York came so suddenly that Emily barely had time to leave you a quick voicemail explaining that she’d be out of the country for a few days. Two hours into her flight and mid way through reviewing the case files for the millionth time her laptop pinged with your ringtone. Accepting the video call she sat back and grinned at your face filling her screen. ‘Hotch and the team are gonna meet me in New York, we’re just waiting for DOJ conformation that we can work together on this case.’ It was good to hear her focused, after Boston turned out to be a single victim and the unsubs trail went cold she’d seemed defeated, like she would never get as close as she had in London again. That had bumped the nightmares up a notch in frequency.

‘So what you’re saying is I should expect a virtual frisking from Penelope Garcia imminently.’ Emily laughed and nodded ‘If she hasn’t got a file on you already I’ll be surprised.’ ‘I’d be surprised if she finds enough to warrant a file, work has kept me pretty off the grid. Are you still determined to introduce me in person?’ ‘Yep.’ She confirmed, the pop in the p letting you know she wasn’t gonna abandon her planned big reveal of you just because she was heading to the States a few weeks ahead of schedule. You understood her reasons and you loved the idea too, but keeping anything a secret from one profiler was hard enough, an entire team and the information queen that was Penelope Garcia was something akin to a miracle if you managed it. ‘Keep me updated yeah? And be safe love. No more close calls, please?’ She assured you the BAU had her back and that she would text you. Getting up from your office chair you sighed and went to make your third cup of tea of the day, hoping the team was as good in reality as they were in Emily’s stories.

The crime scene could have been reproduced from forensic photography of the Son of Sams murders and Emily was already scanning the alley for signs of a second victim as she exited the SUV. She was therefore totally blindsided by Rossi when he pulled her up on not talking much on the ride over and her mind jumped straight to the teams recent loss. Morgan had been on her mind, he had only left a few weeks ago and she knew all about that and the feelings it evoked in the team. Chastising herself for not asking them sooner she explained her reasons for not bringing it up, the freshness of the loss seemed so obvious and raw. JJ’s response about taking it one day at a time brought back the guilt she had felt both times she had left the team that was more family than any blood relative. ‘Actually I was trying to give you a hard time about this.’ Rossi lifted Emily’s own left hand up, nodding to the rings that had only resided there a few weeks. Before Emily could do more than stutter and blush the NYPD detectives were approaching them and all focus went back to profiling the scene.

Between the nightmare she had on the plane and the obvious personal nature of the case none of the BAU questioned Emily on the ring again until they arrived back at Quantico. Having successfully surprised Garcia and broken out the bottle of tequila she’d lost in a bet with Morgan it was quickly decided that a family dinner was in order and Penelope demanded to be filled in on this mystery spouse of Emily’s. You had been spot on Emily thought, she hadn’t been able to find much on you, only a name, Dr O. Ryan. ‘That’s not even a full name, do you know how frustrating that is for someone like me to not even be able to find the name of the guy you’ve married without telling us?’ Penelope lovingly chastised her as they took their seats around the round table in the colourful Mexican restaurant. ‘Oooh, a doctor!’ JJ teased, grinning at Emily over the menu. JJ was the only one who knew anything more about you, Emily having spilled all when she rushed to save JJ from a torturer. You’d not even been engaged at that point, the rings had made her do a double take too. ‘How come you didn’t tell us you were getting married?’ Hotch asked, the smile he had from congratulating her still on his face. She was all set to answer them, to give up on her plan of surprising them all with a visit when her phone buzzed in her pocket and took her attention from the table of curious eyes.

‘Find Your Friends has you at this Mexican restaurant and I really hope it’s accurate cos I’m outside :) x’ Emily read and reread the text and laughed disbelievingly. ‘You’re all gonna get your answers don’t worry’ she placated the table as she stood to walk out and get you. Her smile made the cost of the last minute flight worth every penny and you hugged her close, relieved to feel the tension she’d been carrying since Louise’s death had lessened considerably. ‘Ready to meet my family?’ She asked softly against your ear and you squeezed her affectionately before pulling back. ‘Absolutely, lead the way love.’ Emily leaned in and kissed you, her excitement palpable and together you both walked inside.

The plan was exquisite in its simplicity really. You walked in holding hands and watched as the faces of the profilers changed when they twigged. Spencer was first, his face lighting up as he waved a greeting across the table to you. JJ was beaming, you’d spoken to her plenty of times via video calls so it was no surprise that she was first up to hug you and give her congratulations. Tara and Hotch weren’t far behind her, and Rossi was hugging Emily when Penelope arrived in front of you, arms outstretched, and drew you into a huge hug. ‘Oh my gosh hi, hello, wow look at you you’re gorgeous, Emily your wife is gorgeous!’ Emily laughed along with you and Penelope dove straight into questions, pulling up a chair beside her own for you. ‘Tell me everything, how did you meet, who proposed, what was the wedding like, ‘ Rossi had to speak loudly to be heard over the happy chatter and rush of questions. ‘How about a name first, so we can toast the happy couple?’ ‘Olivia.’ Emily said proudly and you beamed up at your lovely wife. ‘Well then, could you all raise your margaritas to the wonderful Emily Prentiss and her beautiful wife Dr Olivia?’ He paused and looked at you both questioningly. ‘Prentiss.’ You answered, and took Emily’s hand in your own as a margarita arrived at the table for you. ‘Molte bueno, to Emily and Olivia Prentiss, may your marriage bring you many years of solace and joy.’ Glasses raised and clinked all around the table as the BAU toasted to the addition of a new family member and you took the brief moment while they all clinked to steal a quick kiss with your new wife. From what Em had told you you’d be far too busy fielding questions from Penelope to get another chance for a long long while.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds 11x19 #cm 11.19 #emily prentiss x original character #BAU #canon divergence #canon rewrite #gi writes

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whatdidimissjm · 4 years ago

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Jamilton Month Day 5 - Disney

This was inspired by this absolutely perfect and adorable drawing by @shanshala! You are great and I really hope you love this as much as I love your art!

Alex had been begging Thomas to go to Disney World with him for months, until he finally managed to convince Thomas to buy them tickets. Alex is sitting beside him on the couch, almost in his lap, his arm looped through Thomas´, with his head resting on his shoulder.

“Can we stay the whole weekend?”, Alex asks, as Thomas klicks through the options.

“It´s really not that great.”, Thomas answers, but still klicks on the link to the hotels.

“You only say that, because you´ve been there like a million times as a kid. It´s gonna be fun.”

“It was only seven times and yes it´s gonna be fun.”

Alex is still slightly pouting, when Thomas kisses his nose.

“Still seven times more than me.”

Thomas rolls his eyes, nudging Alex with his elbow.

“I know, but now you are going.”

At that Alex grins and kisses Thomas´ shoulder, before he turns back to the laptop screen again, pointing out which room to book.

Two weeks later, they are on a plane headed to Florida. Alex is forcing Thomas to watch The Beauty and the Beast, but at the same time he is far too giddy to actually concentrate on the movie.

“This is going to be so great.”, he says for millionth time since they boarded the plane.

Still, Thomas smiles at him fondly, adjusting his position, so that Alex can cuddle against him more comfortably.

“I know. It´ll be the best weekend ever.”

Alex grins at him, leaning his head back, so that Thomas can press a kiss to his lips. They stay like that for the whole flight and when they finally land, Alex has fallen asleep, while Thomas is still watching the Disney movie. Thomas gently nudges Alex awake, who looks disorientated for a second, before he smiles sloppily at him.

“I can´t believe we´re here!”

“I know, now shut up and grab your suitcase, you don´t want to stay on this plane until it flies back again.”

Alex rolls his eyes, but does as he´s told. They get off the plane and Alex smiles into the morning sun, taking a deep breath.

“Can I get a coffee before we drive to the hotel?”

“Can´t you spend one day without one?”, Thomas gives back.

“Yes, but that won´t be a day when I had to get up at four in the fucking morning to catch my flight.”

Thomas just shakes his head at him, but they end up both getting a big cup of coffee, before taking a cab to their hotel. When they enter their room, Alex can´t help to look around in awe.

“It looks like a dream.”, he mumbles, and behind him he hears Thomas chuckle.

Then two arms wrap around his waist, while Thomas kisses his neck. Alex lets out a small sigh, practically melting against him.

“Wanna stay here for a bit or go explore?”, Thomas whispers, and Alex can´t help but shiver.

“Sorry darling, but today Disney World wins.”

Thomas lets out a sound of indignation, but Alex just chuckles.

“Though, I wanna take a quick shower before, and you are very much welcome to join me.”

They spend far more time than necessary in the shower, before they put on fresh clothes and head to the park. At the first shop they pass, Alex demands they buy matching couple t-shirt and headbands. Thomas agrees to the t-shirt, but strictly refuses to wear a Mickey Mouse headband, so Alex is the only one to get it.

“You look ridiculous.”, Thomas says as soon as they are out of the shop.

“You are just jealous, and I look very cute.”, he disagrees, and Thomas laughs.

“If you say so Mr. Mouse.”

“I do.”

Thomas spends the day following Alex around, while the smaller man smiles so brightly that it almost hurts just watching, and he has never been happier. Alex wants to try out basically every single rollercoaster, even though he always clutches Thomas´ hand so tight, that he fears he might break his fingers.

At the end of the day, when they get back to their room, Alex´ face is flushes, probably both from the sun and his excitement.

“I told you that was the best idea ever had.”, he beams, throwing his arms around Thomas´ shoulder and kissing him.

“I thought I was your best idea.”

Alex hums.

“You are the second best. Close second.”

Thomas laughs, and gently slaps Alex´ ass.

“Watch your mouth.”

Alex just grins, the stupid hairband still in his hair.

“I love you.”

Thomas rolls his eyes.

“That is cheating, and you know that.”

“It still works though.”

“Does it?”

“Yes.”

“Fine, I love you.”

Thomas presses a kiss to Alexander´s head and for a moment they just stay like this, until Alex squirms out of the embrace.

“I really need to pee.”, he offers as an explanation, as he walks to the bathroom.

“Way to ruin a moment, Hamilton.”, Thomas calls after him.

Thomas hesitates a moment, before he moves to his suitcase and takes out a small wooden box. He looks at it, his hand shaking a bit from how nervous he is. He debates if he should really do it now, but then he hears the bathroom door open again, and his decision is made. He turns back around to Alex, a fond smile on his face, while his heart beats loud and fast in his chest.

“Alex, I love you and-“

“I know. You’ve said that like, two minutes ago.”

Thomas laughs softly.

“Just shut up for a moment, okay? Now I have start over.”

“Start over what?”, Alex asks confused, and Thomas sighs.

“I love you and you are the best thing in my life, and I have never been happier than with you. I… I just love everything about you. Like I… how you wear that stupid headband and how excited you are about Disney World and how bad you are at cooking and I love you, Alexander Hamilton.”

Alex is still looking at him confused, when Thomas gets down on one knee and opens the ring box.

“I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. So, will you marry me?”

There are tears in Alex´ eyes, and his mouth is slightly open, forming the shape of an o.

“You are proposing to me.”, he says, voice full of disbelieve. “Oh my god you are proposing to me. I… yes! Yes, of course I want to marry you.”

He surges forward, and throws himself into Thomas arms, laughing and crying at the same time. Thomas can feel tears starting to fall down his face as well, as Alex keeps whispering soft “I love you”´s, while covering his face with kisses.

#jamilton #jamilton month #thomas jefferson #alexander hamilton #hamilton #hamilton musical #hamilton fic #my writing #my fics #mine

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jewels2876 · 5 years ago

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It’s Complicated

A/N: Part 6 of Love on Lockdown - also filling squares Stalker for @star-spangled-bingo and Fake Dating for @marvelfluffbingo

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 1574 (whoa!)

Warnings: swearing

Tony stood at the head of the table, arms crossed over his chest. “Any questions?” Everyone had an opinion and started voicing them immediately. The din rose as everyone talked over each other. “Gang… QUIET!” Tony gave each person a pointed glare. “There really isn’t a choice in this particular matter. You two,” pointing at you and Bucky, “are going undercover in Paris. It’s the city of love, ACT like it.”

“As for the rest of you. Nat and Sam, I need you to keep an eye on the lovebirds in case there’s any trouble. Steve, Clint, you two will be expected in DC in two days to brief Secretary Ross on this newest ‘threat.’ And by threat I mean a stalker that y/n picked up at some point. Did you tease the wrong person trying to get under Barnes’ skin? And oh, by the way, can someone remind me why we can’t seem to take care of Rumlow these days? Anyway class dismissed!” Tony shook his head and exited the conference room, followed by Steve and Clint. You hung back, still glued to your seat, wondering how Tony decided to pair you with the one person you had half a mind to pummel into oblivion.

“Y/n, you awake over there?” Nat frowned as she gave you a once-over.

You blinked a couple of times before you glanced up at Nat. “I’m awake, just… stunned.”

Bucky rolled his eyes at your choice of words. “I’m guessing Tony has his reasons. It’s not like we can’t be professional, right?” His pointed look at you made you narrow your eyes and snear.

“SURE, professional. Like we have been this whole time so far?”

Two Weeks Ago

“Where’s my…?” Bucky scoured the shower but still couldn’t find his favorite shampoo. He sighed and knocked on the door leading from the shared bathroom to your room. “Y/n have you seen…” Sam was sitting on your bed, head thrown back in laughter at something you said. Your hand was resting on Sam’s thigh. Red colored his vision and Bucky turned back into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

“It’s in the trash!” you called after him, not hiding the grin on your face. “You used it all the last time remember?” You turned to Sam. “He’s getting forgetful in his old age ya know.”

One Week Ago

You were starving; the whole day had been meeting after meeting for some Paris recon mission. No one knew what the plan was yet, or who the target was, or what the threat was, hence meeting after meeting. Your stomach protested loudly and you reached into the cupboard for your favorite Pop-Tarts. You frowned and felt around for the box; nothing. Exasperated you pulled out the nearby step-ladder and climbed the two steps to take a closer look. The cupboard was empty. Your stomach growled again; you climbed down, put the stool away and grabbed the last banana in the bowl. You made a face as you bit in; it was too ripe for your liking. A sudden whiff of chocolate tickled your nose and you whipped around. Bucky was lounging against the doorframe, Pop Tart in his left hand and a smirk on his face.

Three Days Ago

The team was divided. Nat waved the wad of $20 bills in her hand, fanning herself. Steve stood in a far corner shaking his head as the words bounced off the walls.

“Pompous jerk!” You paused then took a quick jab, connecting with his chin.

He rubbed at his chin with a smirk before trying to sweep your left leg. “Prissy little bitch!” You jumped to avoid his leg but missed his metal hand grabbing you around the neck. You groaned and tossed him over you as he unsuccessfully tried to put you in a chokehold.

“Fucking ass! You forget who taught me to fight!” Nat nodded once as you climbed the ropes. You jumped quickly and wrapped your legs around Bucky’s neck and swung around, keeping both his arms immobile, pinned to the mats. A bell rung and Nat merely grinned as she pocketed the money. Bucky scrambled up, fists drawn. “I demand a rematch!”

You slid off the ring, flipping him both middle fingers and putting an extra swing in your hips as you sauntered out.

You sulked in your seat as the plane descended. Tony was briefing all four of you one last time. “Let’s just get this guy and get home, okay?”

You huffed one last time before nodding curtly. Lately the only color you saw was grey; clearly, this thing with Bucky was getting the better of you. You knew you had to get past it if you were going to figure out who this stalker was. Bucky’s blue-grey eyes watched you closely. “Sure Tony,” he answered. You looked over the generic letters that had been sent to the Avengers facility for the millionth time; they didn’t give off any kind of vibes or colors which was unusual. Tony had pushed your powers to the limits, both in the lab with Bruce and on the plane, making you touch and analyze anything everything he put in your hands. You had drawn the line when Tony had suggested you sit in the cockpit and let the pilot sit on your lap. For that crass suggestion, you had given Tony the finger and a crack of a smile from Bucky.

The plane landed smoothly and you gathered your duffel bag from beneath your seat. Bucky approached you and took your bag from your shoulder. You glared up at him. “Look, if we have to play lovebirds, I’m gonna do things like this. Can we call a truce please?”

You sighed and let your shoulders relax. “Truce.” Then you paused. “Thank you.” Bucky let you get off the plane first, followed by Nat and Sam. You and Bucky took the car sitting on the tarmac while Nat and Sam talked strategies. You gave them a wave as the car pulled away.

Bucky kept his distance from you in the car, the bags piled between you as a barrier. “Are you sure you can do this y/n? We can ask Tony to bring in someone else,” he said.

You let yourself smile at the idea. “Tony would have both of our heads, at least mine. I can do this.” You forced yourself to relax some more while watching the French scenery fly by. The car ride was blessedly short, as it pulled up in front of the hotel. You both climbed out and stretched. Bucky grabbed both of your bags and grabbed the door, ushering you into the lobby. The check-in Tony set up was under a “Bonnie James & Clyde Buchanan;” you both had to chuckle at Tony’s continued lack of subtlety. You took the room key and you both rode the elevator to the top floor. Bucky dropped the bags in the foyer as you whistled. “I never get used to this shit,” you looked around in awe. The room shimmered in gold; you cheered to yourself that your power was starting to come around. You turned your attention to Bucky; his color was off, a muddled brown instead of the warm glow you normally saw. A knock on the door sounded; you peered in the peephole before opening it. “Sam, what are you doing here?”

Sam waltzed in, unaffected by the grandeur of the room. “Scanning for bugs, not seeing anything. So far so good. You guys have your comms ready?”

Bucky shook his head. “We literally just got here. Can we have a minute?”

He paused before going on. “We’re still going to the Tower right?”

“Yep, we’re ready when you guys are. But no dawdling and no… funny business,” Sam teased and waggled his eyebrows.

You smacked Sam as you ushered him out. “As if!” You could hear Sam laughing as the door shut. “Do I have time for a shower?”

Bucky’s hand was warm in yours; you tried not to think about the ‘what could be’s’ as you strolled around the Eiffel Tower. In keeping up the fake dating ruse, Bucky leaned over and brushed his soft lips against your cheek. A blush crept along your neck, as you turned away from him. You noticed a few people colored in yellows, greens, and an occasional pink, but no one that stood out or seemed threatening. You turned back to Bucky and gave him a kiss on the cheek as well. “I don’t see anyone,” you whispered.

Bucky’s heart stuttered at the feeling of your breath on his face. He steeled himself to calm down as he kissed the top of your head. “Nat, Sam, ya got anything on your end?”

Nat’s voice sounded in your ears. “Nope, do we call it a day?”

You had been walking around for three hours; despite the shower, you were tired from the trip. “My feet are barking. I say we call it for now. We can come back tomorrow.”

Sam barked and chuckled. “Okay, see y’all tomorrow.”

You and Bucky slowly walked back to the hotel; neither one of you dropped the other’s hand. Even though you were still heartbroken, you managed a small smile at Bucky. “Room service tonight? On Tony?”

His smile back at you was blinding and that glow around him seemed to be coming back. “Sounds like a plan, doll.”

-->

Tag list: @courtmr @majicbamana @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety @fenthyr @lokiandbuckyaremine @caramell0w@thenormreedus @ticklikeabomb @xxloki81xx @woodworthti666 @greenarrowhead @lovely-dreamer19 @moonbeambucky @yafriendlyfangirl @after-avenging-hours @white-chocolate-mocha-fan @marvelc00kie35 @thejemersoninferno @bitsandbobsandstuff @lokilvrr @lostinthoughtsandfeelings-blog @theimpossibleg1rl @princess-evans-addict @stuckyfox @loricameback @moondancewrites @halcyonrogers @writing-for-a-chance @ruckystarnes @angryschnauzerwrites @221bshrlocked @suz-123 @senoritastucky @devilbat @jpat82 @spookyscaryskeletonsus @theoneanna @inlovewith3 @mrs-captain-evans @crazybutconfidentaf @nerdy-bookworm-1998 @sillyboyscomicsareforgirls @shield-agent78 @mackevanstanfan80 @the-wayward-robot @renanyx @notyourtypicalrose @boldlybeardedgiver @time-travel-bouqet @jilldsumner @breezy1415 @stuckybarton @just-the-hiddles @writer-at-heart96 @deathofmissjackson @lacontroller1991

#love on lockdown #star spangled bingo #marvelfluffbingo2019 #star-spangled-bingo #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader

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aquariuscurly94 · 5 years ago

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My Dragon Roommate

Chapter One: Let the New Life Begin

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot

Summary: All Lucy wanted was her own life which was why she moved to Magnolia to start at her dream college. What she didn't expect was that she'll have a random roomie who happens to be a freaking dragon! Turns out they exist! Lovely! What a great start at her own life! AU!

Rating: M

Pairing: NaLu(Natsu & Lucy)

Genre: Romance/ Fantasy

Lucy Heartfilia gripped the handle of her blue roller suitcase as she approached the receptionist desk, pulling back a strand of lose blonde hair as she stared at the elderly woman with graying hair typing away on her computer. Her heart ponded tightly in her chest and took the courage to clear her throat which caused the woman to look up at her with a eyebrow raised.

“Can I help you with something, dear?”

Lucy smiled kindly at the woman as she placed a fifty dollar bill on the counter. “One ticket to Magnolia please, ma’am.”

The silver haired receptionist hummed quietly as she checked the money with a special pen to make sure it wasn’t counterfeit before pressing a couple of buttons on the register that was next to her.

Lucy beamed when the receptionist handed her one train ticket to the city of her dreams. “Enjoy your trip, miss!”

Lucy chuckled at her as she placed the ticket inside her front pocket so she wouldn’t lose it. “Not a trip ma’am! I’m moving there!” She yelled as she ran towards the line of trains that were lined up at the railroad tracks.

She smiled widely as she approached her train and gladly handed her ticket to the conductor who had a hand out asking for her ticket and used a puncher to punch a hole in her ticket.

“Thank you,” she said as she stepped onto the train and glanced down at the aisles of seats. She managed to find a perfect spot near the middle next to the window and sat her suitcase next to her with a sigh in relief as she stared out the blurring trees as the train started to move. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

Lucy was highly nervous, so nervous about doing this. She wanted to get away for so long but it took a lot of planning and a lot of money that she had managed to hide from her father, Jude, who she believes that he’s pretty angry with her right now but currently she didn’t give a damn or a flying fuck what he was thinking as of this moment.

She just turned eighteen, she basically had her whole life planned by the time she was five years old. She was going to go to college for English and creating writing, be a famous author that has ever lived, get married to the most handsomest guy ever and lived happily ever after!

She wouldn’t be able to do any of those things if she had lived in that house any second longer, so she was very glad to be finally eighteen and couldn’t wait to start her life at Magnolia, home of Magnolia University, known for their best writing program of Fiore! She was so happy when she got her letter after working her ass off on her entrance essay.

However, before she can officially move there, she had to find an affordable apartment within her budget and she was glad to see she had found one from an ad online from Craigslist about a two bedroom and one bathroom apartment for $800 a month. She wasn’t sure why she decided on a two bedroom, but it was the cheapest one in all of Magnolia and the University was about a twenty minute walk which was perfect in her eyes!

Lucy rolled her eyes in annoyance when her phone started to vibrate in her pocket. She pulled it out without even glancing at it and ended the call and blocked the number, already knowing who it was and placed it back into her pocket without a second thought and leaned against the window with a smile on her face. “Let the new life begin.” She whispered.

Natsu Dragneel groaned in pain when he stepped inside the airport after getting off from his plane. He grab hold of his stomach and leaned against the nearby wall, praying to Mavis that it would stop hurting. Damnit, he hated having motion sickness. “Damn it all to hell.” He muttered, trying his best not to throw up his lunch that he had on the plane, highly regretted eating while on the flight but he was so hungry and couldn’t wait any longer.

If there was a way to get to Fiore from America without getting onto any type of vehicle or aircraft he would’ve done it. However, there wasn’t which was why he had to get on a freaking thirteen hour flight instead. It was pure torture to him.

He sighed in relief when his stomach finally settled down after a few minutes. He walked outside through the sliding doors of the airport and glanced up at the bright blue sky and then looked around at the hustle and bustle of Magnolia, his hometown. He sighed and grabbed the strap of his backpack tightly, his nose perking up at the familiar smells of his hometown, a place he hasn’t been since he was ten because his foster father Igneel moved them out to America for a better life for themselves.

Natsu sighed heavily as he began walking down the streets of Magnolia, his mind thinking about his foster father.

Igneel was working at odd jobs at the time, as well as raising a fiery breathing dragon whom he found wondering the streets alone one night with no where to go. He raised Natsu like he was his own even though he had never had a kid before. He taught Natsu everything he knew about being a dragon and as well on how to control his fire. Natsu was grateful that he shared the same element as him and was happy that he was a dragon too! He was highly thankful at everything he had taught him. Natsu always thought it was going to be just the two of them, like Batman and Robin!

However that all changed after a few months at being in America, Igneel met a lovely and spunky Grandeeney. Natsu was upset about it for a while because he assumed it would always just be the two of them. Turns out, after getting to know Grandeeney and learning that she was a dragon as well, he accepted her fully as well as her adoptive daughter Wendy Marvell who she had adopted a few months before she had met Igneel.

The four of them lived a blissed life. Until, a year ago, a car accident took Igneel’s life. Natsu balled up his fist by his side as he thought about it, chewing on his lower lip with his canine tooth until it started to bleed.

He used a hand to wipe a small drip of blood from his mouth and hoisted his backpack higher onto his shoulder as he continued walking down the street, his stomach growling for more food. “Fuck.” He muttered as he checked the time on his phone and smirked at himself. “I still got time.”

He hummed as his nose perked up at the smell of food near by and let it guide him to a burger joint that was located around the corner and sat down the first booth he had spotted as soon as he walked in.

He checked his phone for the millionth time to double check to make sure he has time to eat before his meeting with the landlord about his leasing contract on the apartment he had found through an online ad on Craigslist before arriving here. He wasn’t sure why the hell he needed a two bedroom one bathroom apartment but it was cheap and close by to the Magnolia University a school that Igneel wanted him to go to ever since his high school days and made sure that he had studied his ass off everyday.

Igneel wanted Natsu to make a name for himself, he wanted him to go college, get a good paying job, something he himself couldn’t do and he made sure to stay on Natsu’s ass each time he would slip up with the fights that would get into with other people who spoke ill about dragons.

“Can I take your order?”

Natsu looked up at the raven haired waitress who was standing across from him with a bright smile on her face, pen and notepad in each hand as she waited for him to place his order.

Natsu ran a hand through his pink spiky hair, not even bothering looking at the menu that was in front of him. “Get me four burgers, four fries and two shakes. Thanks.”

The waitress paused at her writing, confused. She cleared her throat. “Is there someone coming soon with you?”

Natsu rolled his eyes at her with a scoff. “No, I have high metabolism. My stomach can handle this.”

The waitress nodded as she resumed writing down his order. “Give us about forty minutes for your food, okay?”

Natsu nodded in response as he watched the waitress walk away.

Forty minutes later, his nose twitch as the smell of his food came towards him. As soon as the waitress sat it down in front of him, he dug in, not even taking a breath or taking a break because he was soon hungry from that thirteen hour flight.

He burped loudly after finishing, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he pushed the plate away, smirking. He’s back in Magnolia, his hometown that he hasn’t seen in years, he wonders what his childhood friends were up to, he wonders if anything had changed. So far, everything to him looks the same. He couldn’t wait for his new beginning. In fact, he’s all fired up just thinking about it. “Let the new life begin.”

A/N: I had this idea for a long while and now it’s time to write it out! I have so many ideas for this story it’s unreal! I hope you guys will like it!

This is just a sneak pick of my story! I’m going to post more of this on FF.net so be sure to follow my account CurlyBookWriter94 and leave a review! :)

Hope you guys are staying safe out there with anything going on :)

#fairy tail nalu #nalu fanfiction #nalu fanfic #ft fanfiction

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karaxreds · 5 years ago

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Proud of you - Harry Winks

She watched the score as a small tear rolled down her cheek, it felt like someone has just stabbed her in the chest.

She felt bad for him, for his team and for the whole fans that travelled all the way down to Madrid to watch this game.

"Hey." Your future mother-in-law whispered, "Don't cry, honey! You need to be strong for your man, we all need to."

You just nodded your head, of course you were devasted but not as much as your finance who's probably heart broken , you couldn't see him yet.

He was subbed off a few minutes after the second half, you know he probably feels bad too about not getting to play the full ninety minutes but he also knows that his mamager knows better.

The score was disappointing, this was Harry's most important game of his career but unfortunately it didn't go their way.

You watch as the liverpool players lined up in two lines so they could clap to their opposites as they walked up to the small podium for them to grab their silver medals.

You started clapping as well as you saw that Eric was the first one to walk up and grab his medal, a disappointed look on his face, but he looked a bit more composed than the others fiving the fact that a few minutes ago he was the one collecting his devasted teammates from the ground.

You watched him walk toward the podium a small sad smile on his face as the man put the silver medal around his neck, he whispered a small thank you before he walked away, staying a little bit longer on the pitch so they all could thank the travelling fans.

You waited for what felt like forever before he finally started walking up the stands, toward his family, you took a deep breath, you had to be strong for him, for you and for everyone around.

His parent and siblings were the first ones to hug him, he seemed pretty composed untiil them and it made you feel a little bit relieved at the sight.

It was finally your turn, you give him a tiny smile, opening your arms for him and he didn't hesitate to throw himself into them.

"I am so proud of you." You whispered, kissing his head.

"I am so sorry." His voice cracked, and you could've sworn that you heard your heart crack as well.

"Baby." You muttered, slightly pulling away from him. "You don't need to, never ever. You were so great, so amazing on the pitch." You give him a small nod, "I am proud of you, proud of this journey of yours. I am pretty sure that everyone else feel the same."

You watched his parents and everyone else slightly nod at your words, they knew that if anyone could make him feel better it would be you.

Harry's brown wattery eyes pierced into yours, he opened his mouth to say something but no words came out.

He threw himself back into your arms and a sudden sob left his lips and it broke your heart, you just wish you could take his pain away even if it meant that it would only hurt you.

- A few hours have passed and you were on the plane on your way back to London, sitting right next to Harry's mom who looked exhausted, just like you.

You couldn't wait to go home, the spurs' players were probably still in Madrid for a couple more hours, just in time for them to gather all their belongings.

"You alright sweetheart?" Your mother-in-law's voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

"Yeah." You nodded too quickly.

"It just wasn't meant to be, Darling." She smiled, putting a hand on yours. "I am pretty sure there's going to be plenty more finals for him to play."

"I hope so." You mumbled, fighting a few tears back. "He only deserves the best, he deserves to win."

"I know, I know." She nodded, "And he will, we just have to be patient and believe in him."

You give her a sincere smile, his mother probably loved you just as much as she loved Harry and it always warmed your heart, knowing how much she cares about you.

"Thank you." You spoke, "I should be the one consoling you and not the other way around."

"Don't worry, darling. We're here for each other." She squeezed your hand slightly, "You just need to take care of yourself, you need to stay positive and avoid all the stressful things."

Her eyes moved down to your stomach as she spoke those words making tou blush lightly, she was the only one who know about it.

"Don't worry, I am fine." You smiled, putting you other hand on your stomach. "We both are."

"Are you telling him later?" She asked curiously.

"Probably yeah." You shrugged, you've already have known for a couple of days but you only told his mother, you thought that if they won the champion's league tonight, it would've been the best moment to tell him about it, just a few moments after he lifts the trophy but unfortunately it didn't go as planned.

"At least it will cheer him up, he'll be over the moon."

"I hope so, I just want him to feel better." You admitted.

"I can assure you, this will. This is the most amazing news a man could possibly ever receive." She giggled, "I am glad you chose my son."

"I am glad he chose me too." You smiled.

-You were curled up on the sofa a few hours after you landed in Londed, Harry arrived just an hour later after you did.

As soon as he opened the door and found you curled up on the sofa he immediately cuddeled down next to you, inhaling your sent.

"Haz." You whispered, cheking up if he was asleep or not.

"Humm." He hummed, his eyes still closed.

"Babe." You sighed, "I know you said you don't want to talk, but you have to you know that right?"

He sighed and finally opened his eyes before he straightened himself on the sofa.

"I just think that I could've done better you know ." He whispered, "All of those fans who travelled all those miles down to Madrid, just to be disappointed with our shitty freaking performance."

"You weren't shit and you know that." You pointed out.

"Then why did we lose then?"

"Hard luck babe, just didn't go your way." You started caressing his head, "They were just a bit luckier. You guys did an amazing job and I am so proud of your Champions League journey, baby this is probably one of your best seasons."

"Not really my best." He shrugged, "This freaking injury just fucked up everything, I was out for weeks and didn't play so many matches."

"Hey hey hey." You said, putting your fingers under his chin and lifting his head up so he could look right into your eyes. "This isn't your fault, You did everything you could. Harry, you weren't supposed to be back on the pitch until weeks later but you worked so hard, so confidently that you came back weeks before." You told him, a hand caressing his cheeks wiping away the few tears that escaped his beautiful brown eyes.

"I am so proud of you, I could never put into word how much proud I am." You smiled, "And I am pretty sure you're going to be back next year, stronger than ever."

"You think so?" He mumbled,his voice cracking at the end. "You think we can do just like liverpool did?"

"Of course! I know so" You nodded, "They just showed the world how determinate they were, you guys just need to work a little bit harder next season for both the league and champions league."

He finally smiled for the first time in the last few hours,a genuine smile making butterflies erupt in your stomach. You two have been together for over five years but it didn't matter he still made you feel like the first time you met him, like the first time you kissed him.

"What would I be without you though?" He smiled.

"Probably already asleep in your bed, or just drinking a bit too much alcohol." You shrugged, a playful smile traced on your lips.

"I love you." He mumbled, leaning down and capturing your lips with bis own. You moved your hand away from his cheek and slid it into the back of his head playing woth his soft hair. "I am so in love with you." He added once the both of you pulled away for air.

"Kinda feel the same." You giggled, "We love you, so much. Both." You whispered.

You watched him pull away a frown on his face, and you heart started beating faster, you felt as if it was going to explode.

"Both?" He asked confused.

You nodded your head, before you took his hand and placed it down on your stomach.

"Both."

His eyes widened at you words, going from his hand on your stomach to your face than to his hand again.

"A-are you p-pregnant?" He asked in a pure state of shock.

"Yes, we're having a small Winksey." Your eyes full of tears once again for the millionth time this night just for another reason.

"I-I, Oh my god!" He screamed, jumping up from the couch and pulling you up with him. "We're having a baby!"

You just nodded your head,tears streaming down your face.

He pulled you into a bone crashing hug, and slightly lifting you up the ground and jumping up in pure bliss.

"Oh my god." He cries, putting you down on the ground. "I am sorry, Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" He asked concerned, putting his hand on your stomach.

"I am fine." You giggled, "We both are,baby."

"How long?" He asked.

"Six weeks." You told him, "found out a couple of days ago."

"God, why haven't you told me before?"

"Wanted to wait until we were back home." You shrugged.

"Mum, is going to be thrilled." He ran a hand through his hair.

"Oh believe me she is." You chuckled.

"What do you mean? She already knows?"

"Yes, she was with me when I had my blood test." You said, "Took three test and they all said 'positive' but I couldn't wait, so I called her and we ran into the nearest hospital."

"God, this is the best thing." He shook his head in disbelief, "can you believe it? We're becoming parents!"

"I know right, who would've thought?"

"You always said that we'll be having kids but only after we get married." He laughs.

"I know right!" You pouted, "I am glad though, could never not want this baby."

"But you're still marrying me this summer,right?" He smiled.

"Of course I am."

'I love you so fucking much." He mumbled kissing your forehead.

"I love you too, Winks." You whisperes, "We both do."

You were probably the happiest woman alive, what a night it was went from tears of sadness to tears of joy and ro be honest, you wouldn't have it any other way.

Not edited, write this a couple of days ago idk just felt like writing something about him because we all know he must've been devastated that night, along with the rest of his amazing teammates.

Hope you'll like it and sorry for any grammatical, spelling mistakes english isn't my first language in fact it's my third so... ENJOY IT, MUCH LOVE TO ALL OF TOU BABES OUT THERE ❤❤

#football imagines #footballers imagines #harry winks imagines #Tottenham Hotspurs #football one shot #footballers one shot #one shot #imagines #Harry Winks

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gwoongi · 6 years ago

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𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗎𝗌 ✰ taehyung (7)

𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗎𝗌 kim taehyung / reader genre: zombie apocalypse au words: 4228

It felt shit to feel thankful of someone’s screaming. Mostly, Taehyung was happy it was them and not him.

a/n: funny story, i submitted this chapter as part of my creative writing portfolio and the prestige uni i sent it off to loved it and accepted me :D hopefully thats a nice indication on whether or not this is good :S

warnings: extremely graphic content, sexual pain, graphic torture, gore, violence, death, Humans Suck

01. denver ↝ 02. holiday with me ↝ 03. sad forever ↝ 04. surely ↝ 05.scorpion ↝ 06. shakespeare ↝ 07. thrones ↝ 08. moon motel

The group leave the trailer park three days later.

Bundling everything of use into the back of the truck, which seemed darker in colour since the last time it was used, you had found you enjoyed leaving more than you did settling in. Packing everything into correct places had always been such a bore, even at a young age. You remembered when you were eight, and moving in to your grandparents’ home in the outskirts of Denver. Was this really Denver? It was a small town, barely noticeable amongst the cluster of trees and ferns, but nonetheless peaceful, ‘perfect for a new place to start fresh’. Yeah, it only took around an hour and a half to get to school every-day, but don’t worry, it’s a fucking perfect place to live, aged eight, as an orphan. It took you around eleven months to finish emptying each box.

But four years ago, throwing everything into a backpack and into the boot of a car you nicked from down the road, it had been so easy. It was so easy to throw everything out and keep what you really needed. Easy to forget to pack a jacket you had been given for Christmas off an aunt you barely knew, easy to remember to pack all the knives out of the kitchen and the forbidden gun your grandfather used to hunt deer in the winter. It was rather symbolic- pretending people were deers as you shot them between the eyes.

“That everything?”

Namjoon stood, risen off the ground, his hand on the bar of the roof of the truck. Taehyung stepped down the plastic steps from the trailer, not bothering to lock the door, knowing nothing in there was of any value. At one point, the rainbow-glassed fruit bowl might have been of value, sentimental value or something. Now, it was worthless, with a lightning bolt crack down the middle.

“Yeah, good to go,” Taehyung replied, hovering when you climbed into the back to join Kyungmin. He waited, not knowing what for, only mildly embarrassed when you turned to see him staring. “You okay?”

You nodded once with a smile. “Mm. Are you?”

“Yeah. Sorry, I-”

Somehow, he hadn’t realised you shuffle to the open back doors to pull him in for a simple kiss. It was that quick and simple that he almost missed it. His eyes opened to the sight of you in front of him, your hands holding his face, rubbing the stubble around his jaw.

“You’re holding us all up, you know.”

“You’re holding me up,” he muttered, peeling your hands off his face and pressing a kiss to your knuckles, somehow finding the strength to let go and at the same time, make his way to the front of the truck. The whole vehicle shook as you pulled the back doors closed, submerging Kyungmin and yourself in familiar darkness.

“You got a map anywhere?” Taehyung fuddled in the glove compartment as Namjoon started the truck up. He pulled out a worn map, the same one you had used to direct the both of you out of Denver. Namjoon didn’t care for the quality, muttering a hasty thanks and peeling it open, staring at the lines and faded colours. “Keep heading East, as if we’re going to Georgia. Hopefully, we’ll catch Seokjin and his crew of fans on the way there.”

“And if we don’t?” Taehyung asked. When Namjoon fell silent, Taehyung’s lips pulled into a tight frown, “I’m just asking for the future. You’re not coming to Georgia. We’re going. I wanna know what our plan is before we put ourselves in danger in the middle of nowhere.”

Very aware of the compartment slider down, Namjoon found it was difficult to pick a solution that would best suit everybody. Kyungmin wanted to stay with Taehyung and yourself, forgetting Korea entirely and heading straight for the islands off the coast. Namjoon knew you wanted to go to Georgia with everybody, hoping to stick together as a four, but if there was no other option, you’d go to find a plane. Taehyung wanted to get to Georgia with you, but wouldn’t be opposed to finding Seokjin. As for himself, Namjoon wanted to take the jeep to Virginia, leaving Taehyung and yourself on the road.

Everybody made tough calls. Those words echoed in his head. Above all else, Kyungmin was his priority.

“I wanna take the jeep,” Namjoon said slowly, aware of the frowns, “but I can help find a vehicle for you and Y/N to use to get to Georgia. When that happens...we’ll go our separate ways. Half to Virginia. Half to Georgia. Fair, and square.”

Kyungmin fell with a thud and a sigh in the back of the jeep, and Namjoon did his best to ignore it.

“Alright,” Taehyung agreed, believing there was no other way around it. As long as you and him were safe, he didn’t care how it happened. “Whatever you say goes.”

14TH MARCH, 5 YEARS AGO.

Jiyong: i’ll be round at like 7:30ish. lost my weed bag and i’m a junkie and cant leave without it

Y/N: i hope it kills you

Jiyong: watch me actually die

Jiyong: don’t cry at my funeral you fake friend

Y/N: KIDDING!!!!

Y/N: is...seunghyun coming

Jiyong: fuck off

Jiyong: hes banned from seeing you

Jiyong: i cant believe my best friend is fucking my other best friend

Y/N: i like to call it woohooing and we’re being safe

Jiyong: i cant believe this is happening

Jiyong: why seunghyun?????? why not youngbae he treats women nice

Y/N: idk!!! we just hit it off a lot

Jiyong: you’ve known him for like 5 minutes

Y/N: it’s literally been like 5 years but whatever

Y/N: can’t you just be happy for me? i’m living life getting laid being happy n shit

Jiyong: i respect it but i’m not coming to urs expecting to have fun watching goblet of fire for the millionth time only for you to give seunghyun a sweaty bj right in front of me

Y/N: that was one time Let It Go

Jiyong: one day i’m gonna fucking die and you’ll realise how badly you treated me

Y/N: stop you’re my best friend :-(

Y/N: what are you like jealous that im banging him and not you???? wanna join

Jiyong: yeah i’d literally rather fuck the girl from the ring

Y/N: kinky

[03:45am]

Jiyong: woah did you hear about the north korea shit

Y/N: im literally being pounded into Cant this wait

Jiyong: we’re gonna die because kim jongun wants to nuke us and all you care about is seunghyun’s 3 inches

Y/N: it’s just fake news dont worry about it

Y/N: how many times has he threatened nuclear war

Y/N: he should hurry up and do it before exams

Jiyong: just wanted to check up on you because ur nan is fucking mental and she’ll probably collapse tomorrow morning and panic buy loaves of bread

Y/N: stop omg

Jiyong: anyways stay safe love U please bring me my weed tomorrow morning me and Jennie are gonna get high and try anal

Y/N: sweet thanks

SOMETIME LATER.

Leaving the world behind through the back windows of the jeep, you were oddly reminded of the time you left everybody behind during a Summer many years ago. It had been a spur of the moment decision, something you never expected to do, but found yourself doing anyway.

It felt like a lifetime ago; you had almost forgotten about it, until now, until seeing a sign graffitied with a smiley face, reminding you of the “GRIME SIGN” back in your hometown, renowned for being the most graffitied sign in the city. Whether or not that's true, you never really found out. Seunghyun and Jiyong had come along too, for the moral support of being alone on the road. With Jiyong in shotgun and Seunghyun in the backseat, it had felt like something slap-bang out of a teenage coming-of-age movie, titled “3 delinquents on the road to God knows where”, directed by Quentin Tarantino. You didn’t even know how to drive. It was pure bliss.

“Any luck with the radio?”

Kyungmin rattling the small radio that had been picked up from the trailer park startled you, the memory of driving nowhere and everywhere at the same time suddenly gone like the wind. As your vision readjusted to the dark, you noticed that Kyungmin was pressing all the buttons and turning all the dials, a frown on her lips jutted outwards.

“Not yet,” she replied. “Just give me a few more minutes, I can probably get this thing working.”

Namjoon let out a soft curse, swerving the truck slightly to move around a left behind Volvo, the cars open like wings with a dried trail of dragged blood leading into the thick forest. Things like that were common accessories, famed like tourist attractions. Namjoon now thought of what the world was really like- could Paris be any worse than America? What was Iceland like these days?

“Nearly there, now,” Namjoon said vaguely, and Taehyung debated whether or not to reply, if there was even anything to reply with at all. That’s how things went now, short replies or simply none at all. When the world died, so did words. Namjoon thought that was funny, how the collapse of society could mean the collapse of communication and language.

“We’ll need to stop for gas,” Taehyung said, his voice barely above a third volume. From the back of the van, you sat with your face looking out towards the left behind road, your eyelids growing heavy at the sound of Kyungmin pressing buttons, and the hum of the van beneath your thighs. “We’re running on fumes.”

Namjoon grumbled a reply, mentioning something about a gas station a couple miles ahead, near the clearing in the woods, just off the road. It didn’t take long to approach, only around ten minutes if Taehyung were to count. At least three songs had played since then. Taehyung couldn’t believe he was now counting using songs.

The station was large, decaying and it looked unsafe. Taehyung didn’t exactly care about the safety of the building itself, just caring about how safe it would be in the long-run. Safe enough to hide inside? Safe enough to step inside? Safety in architectural design didn’t matter anymore. If it looked rusted, it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.

Namjoon pulled the truck into the station, immediately noticing a few canisters of fuel that was left for the purpose of using, a sign reading “STAY SAFE” stood up, stuck with black masking tape. The letters were dripping onto the concrete, a small pool of chalky white near the drain where a plant was starting to sprout.

“Are you feeling okay?”

Kyungmin’s voice made you look over from the canisters, a wrinkle between your brows. She smiled, generously, and waited for your reply. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

She was talking about the Great Escape the other day. You already knew that.

“Just curious,” she replied, the smile never wavering. “There’s not many people left in the world, you know. Next to Namjoon, you and Taehyung are all I have.”

A silence fell on the two of you, and all you could hear was the sound of Taehyung dragging a barrel across the gas station, dipping his head underneath a broken window and scanning the interior of the gas station.

“I’m here for you,” Kyungmin continued, her voice significantly quieter. “You know that, right?”

“Of course I do,” you replied, and your hand came up to stroke her forearm, a smile on your lips. For a moment, it didn’t feel like the apocalypse. In that moment, it felt like two best friends, reunited after a Summer break, the pine trees isolating them from the world, a Studio Ghibli film, released 2019.

And yet Kyungmin moved away, her gaze lowered as she passed across the gas station to meet Namjoon, already lifting canisters of gas towards the car to refill. Taehyung had emerged once again, his bag refilled with cans and cigarette packets, surprisingly a bottle of liquor in his hands as he stepped back into the bitter wind. Inhaling a breath, Taehyung crossed the width of the station and opened the passenger door to the vehicle, setting down his bag and the bottle, as if they were small children.

“There’s no way we’re making it to Georgia on time.”

Taehyung paused, throwing you a look over his shoulder. “What?”

“Let’s think realistically,” you reasoned, tugging at the cloth over his elbow. Above all, you didn’t want Kyungmin to be upset if she overheard. “It’s been...how long? Since we left the warehouse? I haven’t exactly been keeping up with the dates, but it’s been too long, Tae. Normally, it takes less than 24 hours to get from where we are- wherever we are- to Georgia. And yet, we’re still not near. I’m just-” you sighed, raking your hands through your hair. In the dim light, the grease was visible. “I think we’re out of time.”

“Y/N, they’ll be there,” Taehyung said. He didn’t know what else to say, frowning, “I thought you wanted to remain optimistic?”

“I do, but I can’t afford to hope to get to Georgia and find them there. And what?” you continued. Your voice had raised slightly, not enough to make Kyungmin or Namjoon ask questions, but enough to make Taehyung’s nose cringe at the increase. “We get there, and find them. Is anything gonna be the same? What if we get there and they’re gone and there’s no boats? What if we get there and something happens to any one of us? Tae, I can’t have that on me. I can’t have that on my conscience. Not again.”

Not again. “Yena wasn’t your fault, Y/N, you have to know that-”

“I don’t fancy being out on the road all night.” Namjoon stepped into view from around the front of the van, his hands shoved into the pockets of his distressed jeans. “Thinking we keep driving, turn in when it gets dark to the first place we see.”

“Isn’t that a little risky?” Taehyung asked, mentally making a note to continue your conversation later. “I mean, we have to really check the place before we head in.”

Namjoon frowned. “I know that. But, Kyungmin’s feeling kinda travel sick, and I don’t wanna overdo it, you know? Nights like back at the trailer park...I want more of them.”

Already moving to the back of the van, you pulled open the double doors and slipped inside, keeping them open in time for Kyungmin to crawl in after you. Her skin was a shade of ivory, whiter than earlier, as if the sickness had come suddenly like a simulation glitch. Wasn’t that what you were now? A glitch? An error in coding.

Namjoon shut the drivers door, groaning at the loud sound.

“Hey, man, you okay to drive?” Taehyung asked quietly, looking over from shotgun. “Look, if you’re tired, we can switch the orders around.”

Namjoon looked over weakly- “You’re sure?”

Taehyung unbuckled his seatbelt, dumping his jacket in the footwell with a sniff of stuffy air. “I’d prefer if you slept if you’re tired. ‘Specially when they’re in the back. Don’t wanna hurt them.”

He made a sort of grunt as a reply, switching seats with the younger. When he was sat in the passenger seat instead of the drivers, he let his head lull back onto the windowpane, feeling the chilly glass cool the back of his head. It was as if resting his head had added extra weight to his eyes.

“‘m gonna drive straight-ish,” Taehyung said with his tongue between his lips, backing up the van slowly and carefully. Namjoon opened his eyes slightly, squinting.

“Can you drive?”

Taehyung changed gears. “Yes.”

If Namjoon noticed that Taehyung paused, he didn’t mention it. In-fact, he closed his eyes again with a shrug, a half wriggle, resting his forehead against the glass, pushing towards the cool touch.

Taehyung had been driving for hours, for sure.

The time in the van was unlikely to be reliable, reading 5:19pm when the sky was as black as squid ink, the dim street-lights that somehow worked- probably solar - beckoning the group forward. In honesty, Taehyung had no idea how long it had been since the gas station, just long enough to give him a crick in his neck, the back of his thighs numbed. All things considering, Taehyung thought he was getting better at driving.

He flinched slightly as the divider to the back came sliding down, and your face popped out slightly, peering out the front window with sleepy eyes. If he had a free hand, Taehyung would have wiped the sleep from the corner of your eye, and he turned back to the road, oddly afraid of crashing the car with all four of you inside. Like yourself, he didn’t want that on his conscience. Like yourself, he couldn’t have it on his conscience, not again.

“Are we stopping soon?” you asked quietly. Namjoon shifted, making it known he wasn’t sleeping. He groaned, grinding the heel of his palm into his eyes, unbothered when dust and dirt smudged on his skin when he pulled away. He could look worse, he thinks.

“Nearly,” Taehyung replied. “I don’t know where to go from here. Last road was blocked, so, I’m trying to get out of here.”

Namjoon shifted, cracking his shoulder loudly. “You tried any back-streets?”

Instantly, Taehyung thought of the woman earlier in his trip. The way she screamed at the car, scratching at the rusty paint job, her eyes bloodshot and her skin a lime colour. He gulped the hot lump in his throat, “I’d rather avoid them.”

“It’s safer,” Namjoon continued. “Out of the way-”

Somewhere outside of the van, there was a loud crash, similar to the way you sound when you drop something at midnight when your parents are sleeping. The volume was loud, louder than anticipated, and Taehyung unintentionally stalled the van. Kyungmin jeered forward, hitting the underneath of her chin on the seats opposite, sending out a string of foreign curses to Taehyung in the driver's seat. He avoided the stare of Namjoon, deciding he didn’t want to see the deathly glare.

“What the hell was that?” you asked, cradling a throbbing pain on the side of your face after catching it on the separation between front and back. “Is someone here?”

Namjoon stayed silent for a moment, staring darkly into the outside. Taehyung didn’t know what to do except wait, ready to jump into action when Namjoon made a noise of surprise- or was it shock?- and slapped Taehyung’s hand with great panic, “Fucking pull up somewhere. Turn off those fucking lights. Fuck, fuck, fuck-”

“Jesus,” Taehyung cursed, doing exactly that as you leaned back to switch off the lights, submerging Kyungmin into darkness as the blood pooled in her mouth from earlier. She groaned something between her lips, holding her chin with her left hand as she picked herself up to lean over into the front, staring out at what Namjoon was watching across the small street. With the van now in darkness, away from the streetlight, you were invisible.

It wasn’t hard, locating the source of Namjoon’s panic.

Across the street, a flood of artificial white engulfed the street, barely missing the pull-in that Taehyung had moved into moments earlier. Namjoon slouched out of instinct, keeping his eyes on the road as he noticed three people dashing out into the darkness, the explosive lights following them as if they were automatic. They probably were, turning on as they stepped further and further away from the door they ran from. As they hurried past the hidden van, another noise pulled away your attention.

A large garage door screamed as it opened, in desperate need of oil, chains clattering against the metal interior. The light suddenly changed to an eerie green, something you saw in documentaries about weed farms. As it slid further up into the building, Namjoon hitched a breath as the sight of three sets of human legs came into view, dressed in stunning ebony, large guns by their hips. One of them smoked a cigarette, the smoke rising up like old Native smoke-signals. The middle guy pulled up his mask, covering his nose and lower face, and loaded the large Heckler Koch HK MG4 MG 43, aiming it swiftly at the little piggies running away from the slaughterhouse.

Taehyung knew that gun- the Heckler Koch never missed a target. He barely flinched when the gunman hit the kneepits of the runners, sending them to the ground instantly, their bodies buckling under the loss of legs. The screams were loud. Mama has the bacon, now.

The other two gunmen laughed loudly, approaching the pigs and picking them up to drag them back into the garage, a trail of blood marking the concrete like paint. He said something, the main gunner, and the two spares were taken away, possibly to die, maybe to a waiting room where they would await their death, as casually as they would waiting for a doctor’s appointment. The last runner, a man who looked to be in his mid-thirties, with already greying hair at the top, was pulled to the side of the room where three more men emerged, a woman amongst the pack with her hair sprawled out to her elbows, in mermaid curls. She was gorgeous, nobody could argue against that, with her body in a glamorous dress, something too glamorous for the apocalypse. On her feet, heels that presented her perfectly painted toes, a peachy shade.

��What’s happening?” Kyungmin asked. It was rhetoric. Everybody knew the answer.

The woman dressed in glam approached the slumped body of the runner, crouching to cup his face and stroke a thumb across the bags under his eyes, bleeding out with veins a bright red, the red of a freshly picked apple, the red line under a spelling error. She closed her eyes and leaned forward, putting her thumb over his lips and kissing her nail, before retreating and nodding curtly at the men around her. It was a signal, for they picked up the runner and began to tear off his clothes, leaving him stark naked, covered in purple bruises, tiny flowers on his skin.

Taehyung had seen things like this before- he was no stranger to the way the men beat the man with clubs and their boots, laughing at the way he retreated into his own skin, recoiling at every kick and screaming with every sickening club, until he accepted the fact that his body was their plaything. He watched, in morbid wonder, as they dragged him by his swollen balls to the center of the room, where a sharpened hook hanging from a chain off the ceiling swung threateningly, a bone being wagged in the face of a dog. The man whimpered, his eyes hurting, only barely making out his destination before his body shook violently.

The man picked him up as if he was a sack of sugar, with one hand around his neck, promptly planting him on the hook as if it were a throne. Now Taehyung had to close his eyes.

It was curling upwards, sharply, scraping every wall and nerve and good spot that ached. Yet, the men watched with wonder and satisfaction, clapping when he thrashed like a fish out of water. His legs were immobile, moving inches and with every movement came a grunt of pain, flashed with panic and agony from his rather pointy throne, and then the passing pain of his arm being cracked upwards.

The crack was loud.

From behind him, Taehyung heard Kyungmin make a small wheeze, hurrying into the back of the van, where Taehyung watched you pick her head up off the seats, your thumbs in a pool of vomit around her mouth. You didn’t even care about the sick on her knees, or the smell in your nose. Namjoon looked through the slot, dragging the divider up before the sound of retching made him sick, too.

You stopped listening to the retching, quietly shushing each whimper as Taehyung slowly started the van back up, grateful that he was covered by the sound of someone screaming in fucking agony. It felt so wrong, to be thankful of a tortured man. Cock and all, Taehyung was thankful he was screaming. The tyres of the van slowly rolled along the road, in the shadows, at a sluggish pace. Namjoon wiped away a line of sweat on his forehead, unable to look away from the man, thrashing like a pig, hanging like a sack of meat in a slaughterhouse, blood pooling now at the corner of his mouth, his eyes, his nose, dried blood at his ears.

It felt shit to feel thankful of someone’s screaming. Mostly, Taehyung was happy it was them and not him.

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deepdaleducks · 5 years ago

Text

Different League

Author’s Note - I wrote this based on one of my favourite songs - Heathrow by Catfish and the Bottlemen. Maybe it’s because of their aesthetics or the way a large number of their music videos are shot, but whenever I hear this song and imagine the relationship playing out it’s always in black and white. This song reminds me of drives late at night down empty roads and cold mugs of tea in the kitchen. So when you read this I recommend listening to the song first, during or after whatever your style is. I just really want you guys to listen to the song so you can maybe understand the inspiration behind this piece. It’s the first thing I’ve written in a while so let us know what you think. I did say this was the kind of piece you should read at night but I’m posting at noon because I want to go out tonight. Hope you enjoy.

He hasn’t heard from you in weeks when your name is lighting up the screen of his phone. You’ve been away, been busy, and he knows that. He’s surprised because he never expects to hear from you, never calls or texts first, never thinks that maybe someday it will be more than it is.

It’s earlier than usual when you call. The sun hasn’t even begun to set outside his window but he’s already wound down for a night on the couch. You’re not even on the phone for long. A quick “Hi I just boarded a flight back to London; can you pick me up later?” before you’re gone again. He’s agreeing - of course he’s agreeing – because no matter what Eric says he can’t seem to let you out of his life. Even if all he gets is the odd day with you every other month, or the three am call when you can’t sleep or the photo on Instagram of you somewhere out in the world.

The next time his phone is lighting up its Eric’s name flashing across his screen, almost as if Eric had some kind of sixth sense that would tell him when you had called. He answers after a minute, trying to act nonchalant when Eric asks if his night on the couch is boring enough for him to want a game of FIFA. He plays it off saying he’s busy but Eric doesn’t believe him, so he presses further. They’ve had similar conversations in the past and so he already knows how it will turn out. Eric will tell him not to go. To let you get a taxi and stay in a hotel. To ignore every one of your phone calls until you decide to stop calling. Instead of shedding any details, he’s vague – saying something has come up and he has to go out – and he’s quickly trying to end the conversation before Eric can begin to ask any more questions.

He’s setting off with plenty of time to spare, the sun now set but the sky far from black. He stops at a service station on the way and contemplates buying you some flowers. But people greet their loved ones at the airport with flowers. People greet their wives, fiancées and girlfriends at the airport with flowers. And you weren’t any of the above. He settles for a pack of your favourite crisps and a bottle of Lucozade, knowing you’ll be hungry from your flight.

Your plane hasn’t landed by the time he reaches the airport so he parks his car and walks to the terminal. When his phone rings he thinks it’s you so he answers without looking at the caller ID. He expects your voice but instead he’s greeted by a deeper voice, Eric’s voice.

“Why are you at Heathrow Airport?” Eric asks, forgoing any greetings. He responds with a lie, saying he’s not, but it’s useless. “Yes you are, I have your find my friends on and you’re at Heathrow Airport.” Again it’s another conversation they had had in the past so Eric skips ahead in the script. “You’re picking her up again, aren’t you? Oh for fuck’s sake, Del. You know she’s only gonna leave again, so what’s the point?”

Eric doesn’t understand, Eric can’t understand. He’s never been there in the car at 1am watching you sing along to your favourite song. He’s never had the pillow talk, or the 6am coffees. He’s never experienced a second alone with you when your defences are down, and so there’s no way he could know how all the pain and heartache is worth it. Even just for a second.

“I don’t care, Eric. She needs me.” And Eric tries to fight, tries to tell him to go home, but he hangs up when he sees you coming through the door into the arrivals lounge. The world is stopping around him and it’s as though he can see colour for the first time since you left. And it’s worth it.

It’s always awkward at first. Neither of you knowing whether to hug or kiss. The boundaries you established on your last visit erased by the time. You stop in front of him and take him in, his eyes a little tired and his hair not as neat as it usually is.

“Your hair is different,” He states with a nod.

“Yeah, I cut it a little – a couple of months ago actually.” You pause for a second, “It really been that long?” He nods again, reaching out a hand to grab your suitcase, motioning for you to head out the door. You fall into step together and when your hands accidentally brush you together it’s like electricity shooting up your veins. Like magnets, your fingers are drawn together and all of a sudden its like no time has passed.

He doesn’t need to ask where you want to go. He knows you want to go home. You always want to go home. And so he lets you sit in silence in the passenger seat as he drives, gorging on the crisps he bought you. The low hum of the radio fills the car and you’re on the M25 before he speaks.

“Where did you fly in from?” He asks, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Lisbon,” You reply and he hums in response, “I was working there, but my job ended last week,”

Silence fills the car once more and soon he’s pulling up into his driveway and you’re following him into the house. He puts your bag at the bottom of the stairs and heads into the kitchen. You slip off your shoes and follow him, hovering at a distance from where he stands by the kettle.

“Eric says this is a bad idea.” He says, eyes facing forward. “He says its stupid of me to do this with you whenever you need it. Because what do I get out of it? A couple of days with you before you’re gone again?”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, unsure of how to respond to his confession. “I just. I’m always gone for so long and then when I’m home,” you hesitate for second, “I never really feel at home unless I’m with you.”

The kettle finishes boiling and he makes you both a cup of tea. The air is still tense, and he remains stood by the kettle arms, pressed down on the counter, looking out the window towards the garden. The magnetic pull between you draws you closer to him and you tentatively wrap your arms around your body pressing your chest into his back and resting your head on his shoulder blade. He lifts a hand to hold one of yours splayed against his chest and for a minute you stay like that – together, finally.

He moves first - turning to face you and raising a hand to cup your face. Every time is like the first time with the two of you. You know each other - each other’s bodies - so well, and yet you’re always so timid, so hesitant. He leans in first, lightly brushing his lips against yours as though he can’t resist. When he pulls away, your eyes meet for the first time.

“I miss you when you’re gone,” He confesses and his words draw you back up to his lips. This kiss is deeper than the last, the hesitation easing away by the second. You both become more confident with your hands again, rediscovering each other’s bodies for what feels like the millionth time. Your fingers wind their way into his hair, pulling him closer until there’s no separation between the two of you. It’s the kind of kiss that makes never want to leave. It’s the kiss you’re always coming back for. And you think it could go further, up the stairs, under the sheets, where you usually end up. Instead he pulls away and you follow his lips as he straightens up.

You’re confused watching him turn on the radio, Lemmonworld by The National softly humming through the speakers. He outstretches his arms and when you wall into them he begins to sway you lightly in time with the music. It’s out of character for him – he’s not a dancer, he’s never been a dancer. But you love to dance, and so occasionally he would play the role of a man who knew how to dance, the way you play the role of a woman who plans on staying. The kitchen is lowly lit and the music is quiet so it feels like heaven – like the rest of the world doesn’t exist – and it’s perfect.

You break first, pulling yourself out of his arms and tugging him up the stairs by the tips of his fingers. And he knows from the look in your eyes that he could have you tonight, but something in his mind tells him that he would rather lie with you under the cover of darkness and just talk, than love you in any other way. He’ll be kicking himself when you leave because he only gets so much of you so often, but right now in the moment it feels right to face you on the pillows and take you in through your words and your laughter.

It’s light conversation, made naturally now all the initial awkwardness of your reunion has subsided. He updates you on how his season is going and you act like you haven’t been following every single one of his games. You tell him about the various jobs you’ve worked whilst being away and he mentions that he saw your old group of friends a few weeks ago in a bar. He doesn’t mention that he bought them all a cocktail each, and you don’t say that you saw the snapchats they sent you asking you to thank him. The air falls silent for a while, your bodies tangled together under the sheets, hands whispering through gentle movements.

“Do you remember the night we met?” He asks, his voice quiet and raspy. You nod subtly, even though he’ll hardly see the motion through the dark. “God, I knew I loved you instantly. I just remember looking at you and thinking wow she’s something else.” His confession makes you laugh lightly, half in embarrassment, half in amazement. “I don’t mind it. This. You coming and going all the time. You only ever calling when you need me. I don’t mind.”

“I’m sorry I do it.” You apologise, “You know why I can’t stay though.” He exhales in response, a yeah I know falling from his lips, pillow talk from years ago coming back to him. You had fought that night – the night you confessed everything to him. You’d been back for a longer time than usual. Two weeks. Normally you’d stay a few days, a week at most. But this time was different. You didn’t have anywhere to be and you only wanted to be with him. It was perfect. Two weeks of waking up in his arms. Two weeks of drives at 3am when you couldn’t sleep and matching cups of tea in the dimly lit kitchen. Two weeks of what could be forever. And then the call came in and you were packing your suitcase ready for an 8am flight out to New York. He was begging you to stay when you told him. Saying how much he loved you, how this really could be forever if you didn’t take the job and just stayed. His voice was bitter the whole argument; accusing you of lying to him, leading him on. You yelled back too, saying he could easily end it, easily just not pick up the phone next time you called, easily find someone else. And even after all the bitter words, you fell into bed together, needing one last night connected before it could all crumble apart in the morning. So when you’re breathing had slowed and you were wrapped up in his arms under the sheets, you confessed it all; opened your entire book for him. And he understood.

He didn’t force you to stay, didn’t make you get a taxi to the airport, didn’t look at you like something that was breaking his heart into a million pieces. Instead, he gave you one of his hoodies with the thumb holes bitten into the sleeves, drove you to the airport before the sun had come up and kissed you in the departures lounge like his life depended on it. And when you called three months later and said you would be back in London for 36 hours, he answered and he loved you the way he always does.

When you wake up in the morning, his face is pressed into your neck, arms wrapped around your waist possessively, as if he decided in his sleep that he was never going to let you go. He stirs with your movement, peppering light kisses over your shoulders and up towards your ear. The feeling makes you moan slightly and he takes it as a cue to go further.

In an instant he’s rolled you over so you’re on top of thighs straddling him. He smiles at the sight of you – your hair messy, eyes low, his shirt hanging of your shoulders. Confidently, he tugs at the hem of the shirt, pulling it up slightly until its over your head and discarded on the floor. He’s locking your lips together once more and making you forget why you’re always leaving with every movement.

He takes it slow, not letting a single second be taken for granted. It’s giving and taking, moving in harmony together as the sunlight cracks through the gap in the curtains. It’s electricity in your veins and caffeine to your brain, waking you up more than your morning cup of coffee ever could.

And afterwards, it’s pulling him down the stairs for a morning of breakfast and card games at the dining room table. He’s happy to be here – in your company, hearing your laughter, letting you win at 301 because he knows you love the glory – and he could stay here all day, keep you in doors, not share you with the world.

But he doesn’t mind when you’re pulling him into the city in the afternoon, desperate for some cakes from your favourite bakery. He doesn’t mind when you’re dragging him round every tourist spot in the city because you hardly get to spend time here. He’s more than happy to fork out the money for the last-minute tickets to see The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time on the West End because “it was your mum’s favourite book growing up and it’s only showing until the end of the month”. And he’s watching you in amazement, fully immersed in the play in front of you, and he’s wondering how someone like you could even give him the time of day, let alone give every second you have in the country to him.

When the play finishes, he’s wrapping his jacket around your shoulders to protect you from the cold London air on the walk back to the train station. He doesn’t mind that he’s now cold, because you look warm. He doesn’t mind not getting a taxi, because you look at home. He doesn’t mind being recognised on the tube because the look of content on your face is worth it. All of this is worth it.

“You’re leaving tomorrow aren’t you?” He asks as you’re walking through the door of his house. There’s an air of sadness in his voice but you know he’s not going to fight it. “I saw the text on your phone.”

“Yeah, I, um. I was going to tell you tonight. My flights at 1.” You reply, stepping closer to him, desperate to feel connected to him as much as you can.

“It’s okay,” is all he says, pulling you up the stairs back to his bed so he can make the most of the few hours he has left with you.

In the morning it’s breakfast at the local Wetherspoons, a conversation about the future, and a drive to the airport that feels like it last forever. He’s holding you in the airport as you wait out every last second, letting you go only when you can’t stay any longer without missing your flight.

“I love you, whenever you need me.” He whispers lowly. The noise of the airport is blocked out in the little cocoon you’ve created within each other’s arms.

“I love you, always.” You reply, locking your eyes with his, meaning it.

He hesitates for a minute, taking in your words, unsure of whether to echo them in return. “Yeah me too.” He says, giving up the battle with himself. With that you turn and leave him alone in the airport once more.

He goes home knowing he’ll spend the whole week missing you, listening to Eric’s “I told you so’s”, wishing he hadn’t let you go. But all that, all the hurt, will disappear soon and he will be left with dreams of you under his sheets, in his passenger seat, at his dining room table.

He prepares himself to do it all again, go through the motions, the late-night airport pick up, the slow dance in the kitchen. And although he goes on various dates and meets random girls in clubs none of it compares to you. And none of it could ever come close to the feeling he gets when he turns his phone on after training one day to a missed call from your number and a voice mail attached.

“Hi. So, I just got offered a job in London. A permanent job. I’m gonna take it. So would you maybe pick me up at Heathrow one last time?”

He’s agreeing – of course he’s agreeing. He’s making the familiar drive to the airport under the cover of darkness. Stopping off at his usual service station for your favourite crisps and Lucozade. Meeting you in your usual spot in the arrivals lounge. And you’re tentatively walking towards him, like always, scared you’ll have to start again. But he’s grinning at you like a fool and opening an arm to pull you in and kissing you as though you were oxygen and he hadn’t breathed in a lifetime.

When he pulls away, he’s revealing a bouquet of your favourite lilies from behind his back. Because people greet their loved ones at the airport with flowers. People greet their wives, fiancées and girlfriends at the airport with flowers. And he was hoping you were about to become one of the above.

#i hate writing tags on these things #dele #dele alli #writing #footballer imagine #england nt #spurs #tottenham hotspur #eric dier #different league

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spideyxchelle · 6 years ago

Text

When Peter Met Michelle

the when Harry Met Sally au

Michelle Jones sat on her rigid suitcase outside the student center at Stanford, exasperated. She glanced over her shoulder and saw her college roommate, Liz, still wrapped in an amorous embrace with her boyfriend. The college graduate rolled her eyes and played with the frayed edges of her book.

More time ticked by and the couple saying their final goodbyes with their tongues continued to paw at each other. Michelle wanted to throw something at Liz’s head to catch her attention. They were burning daylight now, and she wanted to begin this roadtrip as soon as possible. The sooner it began, the sooner it would be over.

She didn’t know much about the boyfriend that was moving to New York, too. When Michelle had told her old roommate that she was moving to New York to become a journalist, Liz had collapsed into tears about her boyfriend, Peter, who was also moving to New York after graduation to work for Stark Industries. Michelle had pat her friend on the back, consoled her, and then very gently asked if she could hitch a ride with said-boyfriend to get to New York. Plane tickets were expensive and she was about to be a broke New Yorker with no job, no apartment and no friends.

So, much to her chagrin, she was very much on Peter Parker’s timetable for all roadtrip related things, including when they left.

She chanced another look at Peter and Liz, who were somehow more reluctant to part than thirty seconds ago, and feared she would never leave the Stanford Campus if she didn’t intervene. Michelle cleared her throat and the two lovers dizzly staggered apart.

Liz touched Peter’s face and whispered, “Call me as soon as you get there.”

He crossed his heart and cheekily added, “Hope to die.”

Having had enough, Michelle rolled her bag to his car and called out, “See you soon, Lizzy.” They had said their goodbyes that morning with a blowout roommate brunch.

Peter jogged to his car and took Michelle’s suitcase off of her hands, loading it in the back of his car. Finally, it seemed, they were leaving.

Until. Peter pulled Liz in for another kiss. Michelle finally interjected, “Okay, I’m all ready to go.”

Liz reluctantly unwound herself from Peter’s arms and shooed him to his car. “Off you go! And be safe, you two.”

She watched Peter take a final assessment of their campus, like he was saying some silent goodbye, and he blew Liz another kiss from the window.

Then, they were off.

The car ride was dreadfully silent. From what Michelle had meticulously mapped out, it would take them just over three days to get to New York City if they both pulled very long shifts at the wheel. She figured it was better to be driving somewhere than to be sitting nowhere and left to talk.

Still, Peter tried to strike up conversation in every which way he could think of, riddling off seemingly unrelated topics. On the first day, he asked her about the weirdest cartoon she watched as a child. On the second day, he went on a two hour rant about engineering that she barely understood.

On the third day, halfway through Illinois, he asked, “Do you ever think about death?”

Michelle, who was sitting sprawled out in the passenger seat trying to focus on a good book, looked up from the well-loved pages and replied flatly, “What?”

“You know,” he tapped jovially on the steering wheel, “death. You ever think about it?”

Intrigued, she closed her book. “Well, sure. Everybody does.”

“No, but, like, everybody thinks about death but not everybody really thinks about death. Not for longer than its comfortable. They let it be a fleeting thought, something that happens but goes on unacknowledged.”

Michelle gnawed on her lip, “I think about death a normal amount, I think.”

Peter hummed, “No, you don’t. If you did, you’d have more to say about it.”

At that, she frowned, “What? So you think you’re, like, better than me because you have deep thoughts about death?”

He shook his head, “Not better. Maybe more introspective.”

Michelle rolled her eyes for what felt like the millionth time on their roadtrip. “You are not more introspective than me.”

Peter conceded, “Fine. Maybe more self aware?”

She prodded him with the spine of her book, which made him smile. She frowned more deeply, “You are not.”

He turned his head to look at her and his smile was firing with mischief, “You’re talking to me.”

She ducked her head, embarrassed, “I’m not doing that either.”

“Yes, you are,” he sang in a loopy, out-of-tune melody. “We’re going to be friends, Michelle. Just you wait and see.”

“Men and women can’t be friends without men letting sex get in the way,” Michelle stretched in the passenger seat. Her bones cracked and she felt she could breathe again. Being stuffed in a car on a never-ending road trip with a complete stranger was beginning to wear on her body, but she had to get to New York and Peter Parker and his beat-up sedan was her ticket. Peter sputtered. As if it was an impulse, he clutched the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white, and replied, “Men and women can be friends without the sex part ruining it.”

Michelle tucked her feet under her bottom and turned to face him. She rested her chin on her bent knee and watched him drive for a mile or two before breaking the pervasive awkward silence, “Are you saying you haven’t once thought about me naked in the last two days?” Peter gulped like a goldfish and turned an unattractive shade of red. Michelle grinned knowingly, “See? I told you. Men let the sex part get in the way.”

The driver squinted at the endless road ahead, “You’re teasing me.”

Michelle flopped back in her seat, “You make it so easy.”

“Besides,” Peter spoke over her, “I barely know you.” His words were reeking of humble pie.

“And yet,” Michelle countered, “you still pictured me naked.”

For the first time their entire roadtrip, the rest of the car ride to their next stop was endured in complete silence. Michelle cracked open her well-worn book and read, while Peter turned up the radio and filled the car with a burned copy of some old Nirvana album and for several hours Kurt Cobain’s voice filled the car and his words were the only ones spoken.

As the sun began to set, turning the Midwest sky a hazy pink, Peter’s stomach roared. “We should eat,” Peter suggested. Michelle dog-eared her book, “I’ll help keep an eye out for the next rest stop.” Peter looked at the book in her lap and grumbled. Michelle could feel him assessing her and finding something lacking. He was judging her and she loathed judgment. “What?” she demanded.

He briefly met her eye, “You dog-ear your books.”

She bristled, “So?”

“Well, it’s just...it’s inhuman.”

Michelle felt her face, her carefully curated mask of indifference, waver and she laughed, “What?”

His tense shoulders slackened and he took the dog-ear offense another step further, “What kind of psychopath dog-ears a good book?”

She pulled her knees into her chest and tucked her chin in the divot between her two kneecaps, looking at him like she had before. “The kind that isn’t precious with her books.”

“Blasphemy,” he tossed a smile in her direction. It was an effortless kind of smile. A friendly smile. And yet, Michelle Jones maintained that men and women couldn’t be friends. She had seen and experienced too much to even consider an alternative.

“You dork,” she returned his grin, “Find us something to eat.”

They lapsed into cautious, polite conversation until Peter spotted a charming diner off the highway. Michelle was too hungry, too tired from being crowded in a car all day to really worry about a random restaurant in the middle of America with no civilization for miles and miles in either direction. But when the call stalled and turned off, she hesitated when Peter climbed out of the car.

“What?” he asked, rounding her side of the car and opening her door.

She shook her head, “Nothing. Just. It’s nothing.”

“I thought you were hungry,” he said, belligerently missing the point of her hesitancy.

“Just.”

He wiggled his shoulders playfully, “Just?”

“Just, we’re in the middle of nowhere and walking into an environment I don’t know. I’m a black woman. This is nowhere America.”

Her implication dawned on him and Peter’s face transformed into something more intense and concentrated than she had ever seen before. He was a frivolous kind of boy. But there was something steely underneath that facade. “I’m not going to let anything happen.” He crossed his heart, like he had with Liz, and smirked, “Hope to die.

She repeated the gesture with an eye roll, but his words gave her the strength to climb out of the car.

When they walked into the diner, it was mostly empty. There was an older woman serving the few occupied tables and a vintage jukebox was playing some song Michelle had never heard, but there was nothing immediately hostile about the environment.

The server called over her shoulder, “Take a seat anywhere, kids. I’ll be with yah in a minute.”

Michelle dropped into a dated mauve booth and Peter sat opposite of her. He crinkled the laminated menu and surveyed the options. She watched him. She was starting to like watching him. He had so many silly little ticks that were fascinating. Michelle could have filled an entire book of all of his idiosyncrasies. He contained multitudes.

She continued to watch him until the waitress arrived to take their orders. Peter asked for a cheeseburger. Michelle launched off into the most specific, complicated order of a tuna melt she was certain Peter had ever heard by the way his eyes exploded. When the waitress clucked back to the kitchen, Peter rested his palms on the table, “You’re neurotic.”

She countered, “I’m particular.”

“You’re a tuna melt heathen.”

“I’m a tuna melt heathen, neurotic and a psychopath? My how you flatter me, Mr. Parker,” she said, oozing sarcasm, but underneath there was a twinkle of something else. He ate his plain cheeseburger, Michelle ate her very, very particular tuna melt and the waitress sent them on their way.

Michelle walked around the driver-side of the car and Peter sidestepped her. She raised her eyebrow, “Yes?”

“I’ll get this shift,” Peter said.

She crossed her arms over her chest, “No. It’s my shift.”

“Come on, I got it,” he reached for the door handle.

Michelle stepped in the way of his hand and asserted, “No. It’s my shift.”

He scowled, “Why are you being so difficult?”

“Why are you changing the schedule?”

“It’s called being nice!”

“No, you’re being a pain.”

“Fine!” Peter shouted, throwing his hands up in the air. “You drive.” He stormed around the other side of the car and climbed in, mumbling to himself the entire walk. Michelle rolled her eyes at his antics and slid into the passenger seat. Before she turned on the car, Peter sniped, “You’re a very difficult woman.”

Her entire next shift was swallowed in icy silence and bitter feelings on both sides.

When they pulled into New York City the next afternoon, Peter was at the wheel. The car was still an inhospitable environment, but the look of New York City in the afternoon in summer melted their antagonistic natures.

Michelle stuck her head out the window to get a better look at her new home and gasped, “Wow.”

Peter nodded in agreement, “Wow is right.”

New York City looked nothing and everything like the movies. It had a weird smell and even weirder people, but Michelle was instantly in love. This would be her home. She was going to be a journalist in New York City. She was going to make it.

When Peter pulled outside of the apartment she was staying at until she found something more permanent, a friend of a friend of a friend from Stanford, they both began to speak at once. “Michelle, look—”

“Peter, it was—”

They simultaneously snapped their mouths shut.

Peter said, “Sorry, what were you going to say?”

“No, you,” Michelle graciously extended.

“No, you were speaking first.”

“We were speaking at the same time,” she pointed out.

He husked a too-tired laugh, “Fine. Just, good luck.” He showed his hand and she took it after only a moment of unwillingness. They shook hands.

Not as friends. After all, women and men couldn’t be friends without sex getting in the way.

And parted.

Not forever.

Five years was a long time, but hardly forever.

#when harry met sally au #ficlet

69 notes · View notes