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pallasperilous · 4 years ago

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Castiel/Dean Winchester Gen/Teen, 4341 words 15x20 coda AO3 version “The natural environment of the human soul is a human body,” Cas says. “Humans have yet to meet a foreign substrate that they don’t immediately attempt to colonize. My form in Hell was not an exception.”

Then he shuts his mouth very deliberately and gestures back to Dean like his mic is going live in three, two. “Or the bit where my soul gave you some kind of STD?” Dean finishes. “It was a poor analogy. I apologize.” “So what’s a better one?” Castiel drums his fingers for a second. “It’s more like…the way a parasitic jewel wasp injects a cockroach with venom, and transforms it into a willing host for wasp larvae.” “Holy shit are you ever bad at this,” Dean says, with that signature brand of fond horror he special-orders just for Castiel, Angel of the Gourd.

It’s half past midnight by the time Dean gets another run at Cas.

Granted, what the fuck does half past midnight even mean here, where time is as free as tap water? Why does anybody even bother? For all it matters, Dean could set his watch to eleventy minutes past twenty o’ nope and still never miss last call.

Then again, somebody felt it necessary to invent the idea of Tuesday in the first place, and Dean’s not gonna volunteer himself for the task of replacing it with something better. What’s important is that he’s survived (or rather, he hasn’t survived) a battery of poignant moments and tearful reunions. He and Sam hugged out burdens registering in the triple digits. They even had a little fight, pretty much for the fun of it, while Ellen fucking Harvelle watched them over the bar with her eyes shining. She still charged them, though.

Right at the beginning of the party Dean and Castiel had their eyes-across-the-room thing, followed by the same magnetic, exhausted embrace they’ve shared on just about every plane of reality now. Dean supposes he could ask Cas for a nickel tour of the Empty just so they could hit for the cycle, but he’d really rather not. Sam let them eke out a few gruff, tear-choked monosyllables before diving in, sweeping Cas up in a bear hug and laughing like a fucking kid. Dean doesn’t push it, because it’s been longer for Sam, after all. Or something.

And now it’s quiet, just the jukebox and the clink of glasses back in the kitchen, a few folks murmuring in booths. It might be dark outside, it might not; it’s waiting on Dean’s opinion before it commits to anything. And so is Cas, who is standing in the warm glow of the jukebox, hands in his pockets.

Dean walks up, leans against it, bottle still dangling from one hand.

“C’mon, sunshine. I’ll show you yours, you show me mine.”

Cas looks up and into Dean’s eyes with the wary, elegant patience of a deer. “What is it that you would be showing me, Dean?”

Dean gives him a long, languid blink and bites his lip, and Castiel lags for half a second before rolling his own eyes. “I see death hasn’t refined your sense of humor.”

“Nope. Guess the billionth time aint the charm.”

Cas remains stonefaced, which means a corresponding you dumbass blush starts crawling up the sides of Dean’s neck. The jukebox switches records like it’s making a suggestion.

“I’m gonna sit down outside,” Dean says. “C’mon and sit down with me. There’s a patio somewhere, right? Ellen was always talking about adding one out back. No way she hasn’t bossed somebody into buildin’ it.”

“There’s a patio,” Cas says, taking his hands out of his pockets.

Heaven’s patio is pretty nice; twenty square feet, some scattered picnic tables, fences covered in ivy and string lights. It still smells like fresh pine boards. There’s even a fire pit, which seems kinda bougie for the Roadhouse, but hell with it, it’s warm and pretty, and since when did pretentious people get to lay claim to “a hole with a fire in it”? There’s no moon overhead, and so the Milky Way is giving them the full monty — the runnelled spine of it, the ribcage packed with galaxies.

“Are they all alive?” Dean asks. The warmth from inside leaks out of his collar, wisps away.

“Who?”

Dean points up. “The stars. They always make a big deal about how most of the stars you can see from Earth have been dead for millions of years by the time we get the light from ‘em. That still true here? Or is everything on auto-renewal?”

“That’s a very complicated question,” Cas says, not looking up, only at Dean. He does that a lot, Dean knows, but it turns out to mean something different than what Dean had always assumed, which was ironically pretty similar to what it actually meant, but was reassuringly unactionable and therefore unfuckupable.

“I’m a very complicated guy,” Dean says.

Castiel smiles at that. “I don’t actually know the answer,” he admits. “And it would take an extremely long time to investigate. There are some other things I’d rather do first.”

“What, you can’t just call the kid for directory assistance?”

Castiel lets a good-humored sigh. “Like many young people these days, Jack prefers to avoid the phone.”

This is a solid riff, and Dean respects it. He picks the table closest to the fire and takes a bench and Cas sits next to him, instead of opposite. Dean thought he managed to break him of this habit a few years ago, but here all things are made whole again.

“So what,” Cas says, without a single molecule of playfulness or seduction, “is it that you want us to show each other?”

“Yeah, I was…it was a dumb joke. But I mean it, just not in a ‘playing doctor’ way.”

Castiel frowns, tightens his lips; the firelight throws a fluttering shadow across his face.

“I mean…Christ.” Dean takes a medicinal slug of his dwindling beer. “I don’t really look like this anymore either, right?” And he gestures at his usual shitshow personal presentation, which death has also noticeably failed to refine.

Castiel frowns, smoothes his hand across the surface of the table. “This is a corporeal world, Dean. It operates on a different set of rules, but your body here is no more of an illusion than it was on earth.”

“Seriously?” Dean ponders a second, squints through the dim light at his fingernails, at the high-resolution grime contained therein. “Jesus, that sounds like a lot of work. At least compared to Holodeck Heaven.”

“It is. But we didn’t build this place to be a...a…doorprize. It’s a real world,” Castiel enthuses, looming forward. “It’s the one that should have been created for all of you in the first place.” He pauses, glances down. “For all of us.”

Dean shrugs. “Okay, so no holograms. I’ll keep all that in mind next time Charlie tries to convince me to go skydiving.”

Castiel snorts, but not in pure aggravation, so Dean feels like he’s finally got a point on the board. “What I’m sayin’ is…physical or not, this place has different rules, right? So could I look at you without my eyeballs exploding? The…you know, the angel parts of you. Not just your vessel,” and Dean fwippies his hand at Cas to indicate that true beauty is contained within and Dean is completely indifferent to the fact this dork-ass alien managed to bodysnatch a guy who’s never dipped below an 8.5.

“It isn’t a vessel anymore. We can create our own bodies, now.”

“Peachy,” Dean clips, because that shit is a little late coming off the line.

Castiel sighs. “You could see me in that form without coming to harm. But you should know that I don’t consider it any more a reflection who I am than this form. Not anymore.”

Dean rolls the bottle towards him, nudges a knuckle. “You’re a real boy now, huh?”

“Yes, I suppose so,” Castiel says, and smiles a smile so small that Dean would need a microscope to figure out if it’s pleased or pained.

So Dean thwacks the bottle down on the totally-real table and claps his totally-real hands. “Well then let’s go. Hit me with that angel weirdness. If we’re gonna do this, I gotta taste all thirty-one flavors.”

Castiel smiles a little more convincingly, but it still doesn’t reach his eyes. “There are really only the two,” he says, and holds his palms out to the warmth of the fire.

“Great, then we’ll be done in time to catch Letterman. Then if you’re good maybe you can help me shimmy out of this thing.”

Cas cocks his head. “Out of which thing?”

“This super real heavenly meat-suit, dude. It’s not fair if only one of us gets naked. Peep show has to go both ways. I see your angel-face, you see my soul.”

Cas looks stricken, like Dean is asking to suck on his toes next to a playground. “I mean, unless that’d fuck you up,” Dean adds.

“No,” Castiel replies, a little absently. “It wouldn’t fuck me up. But it…wouldn’t really accomplish anything, either.”

“What, no soul kink? That’s bullshit and you know it. You love this crap.”

Castiel replies, “Your soul is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” with the easy confidence of a regular latte order. With the same uncanny, 2 Blessed 2 B Stressed face he had when Dean plowed Ruby’s knife hilt-deep into Jimmy Novak’s sternum, that he had when the Empty collapsed him like a carcass in an acid bath.

That face shuts Dean right the fuck up, because it sends him skipping backwards into that fucking basement, where his phone is buzzing and the gritty concrete chill of the floor is seeping through his jeans into the useless meat of his legs and leeching into the hot, wet channels of his piece of shit heart.

Turns out you can work up a good little panic attack in heaven, which seems like a significant oversight.

From a million miles away he feels Cas’s warm, dry palm slide over the back of his hand –– there’s a ring there now that Dean lost down a motel sink drain ages ago, is nobody spotting continuity errors here?—then Cas’s hand tightens on his and it feels like a Xanax kicking in. (The good kind, direct from the hot nurse with the little paper cup, not the kind you get in a from a shady burnout at a truckstop, that’s been ground up with baking soda or benadryl and carefully remolded, as if you could possibly give that much of a shit when you’re freaking out bad enough to buy Xanax at a truckstop.)

Point being, he calms the fuck down.

Cas has good hands. They can do a lot of impressive shit, and they look nice doing it. They don’t look like –– they’ve never looked like –– they belong to somebody whose main job is destroying people, places, or things. They’re hands that how to play the cello, or make tables from reclaimed wood, or give soapy, encompassing handjobs in the shower on cold evenings.

“It’s been years, though,” Dean rasps, not looking up yet. “I was a kid when you got me out of Hell, Cas. I’ve done a lot of shit since then. Maybe souls get stretch marks.”

Castiel’s hand tightens on his, clamps it down on the table. “I’ve always been able to see it.”

“Okay,” Dean mumbles, but Cas keeps on going –

“The only time I couldn’t see any part of your soul was when I was without grace, and I promise you that was one of the greatest deprivations imaginable.”

Dean snorts, looks away, but his hand is still on lockdown. “Worse than going hungry, huh?”

“Much.”

“Hey, what about Sam? Or, hell, fucking Donatello. They both were both walking around minus their creamy filling, and you didn’t say boo.”

Cas shrugs. “I can’t see their souls under ordinary circumstances.”

“So what, mine’s just extra loud, or day-glo, or what?”

“It’s both of those things, but that isn’t why,” Cas answers, and the boy is downright wry.

Dean tugs his hand out, raps his knuckles against the wood. “Okay, so stop bein’ coy and tell me before I get a complex. And if you say it’s because of love or some shit, I’m bailing to Rowena’s.”

“You infected me,” Cas says.

“Uh,” says Dean.

The fire pops and a log shifts; Cas glances over at the kerfuffle, absently lifts his fingers to his chin like he’s looking for an old scar. “In Hell, when I retrieved you…I had to grip your raw soul. I was meant to wear a gauntlet, so I wouldn’t be burned.”

Dean snickers. “You’re telling me you were supposed to be wearing a soul condom. What happened, you get too excited and forget to suit up? It’s okay, I know I’m a lot to take in.”

Castiel purses his lips. “No, I was properly armored. But my arm was torn off in combat shortly before I reached you.”

“Ouch.”

“Ouch,” Cas agrees. “I didn’t have time to retrieve the arm or its protection from the pit, so I had to grow a new one very quickly.”

Dean really should’ve switched to whiskey before starting this. “What, you didn’t pack a spare?” He wheezes.

“Ordinarily, yes, I would have had the resources, but I was equipped very lightly for that mission. It was a raid, not a siege. You understand the difference.”

“Sure, yeah, you left your emergency arms in the trunk. So you just popped out a new one. No big.”

“It was a big. Your soul was close enough that it forced me to grow a human arm, instead of a much quicker and more powerful extensor.”

“Okay, uh,” Dean pinches at the bridge of his nose, “there’s a lot to unpack there.”

“What part of it confuses you?”

“I dunno, the bit where apparently angels are I guess heavenly octopuses,”

“The plural in the Greek is octopodes,” Cas interjects, not without pleasure.

Dean glowers. “Or the part where you can apparently swap in different drill bits,” Dean continues,

“Mm,” Cas notes, careful not to open his mouth,

“Or that I, like, accidentally bullied you into growing a person arm,” and Dean pauses for breath here, which Cas evidently takes as permission to dive in with more Planet Earth commentary.

“The natural environment of the human soul is a human body,” he says. “Humans have yet to meet a foreign substrate that they don’t immediately attempt to colonize. My form in Hell was not an exception.” Then he shuts his mouth very deliberately and gestures back to Dean like his mic is going live in three, two.

“Or the bit where my soul gave you some kind of STD?” Dean finishes.

“It was a poor analogy. I apologize.”

“So what’s a better one?”

Castiel drums his fingers for a second, listens to the fire pop in its little cage. “It’s more like…the way a parasitic jewel wasp injects a cockroach with venom, and transforms it into a willing host for wasp larvae.”

“Holy shit are you ever bad at this,” Dean says, with that signature brand of fond horror he special-orders just for Castiel, Angel of the Gourd.

“What I’m trying to avoid saying,” Castiel sighs, “is that you rubbed off on me.”

Dean nods. “Yeah. That’s fair. I wouldn’t be dumb enough to say that around me, either.” He lays a couple little pats on Cas’s hand. “Lookit you, though, seeing around that corner. I’m proud of you, man. That would’ve totally flipped your breaker back in the day.”

“Just one of the many ways you have reshaped me, Dean,” Cas says, with warm sarcasm.

“Alright, so you rawdogged me, I whammied you. Chocolate, peanut butter, peanut butter, chocolate.”

Cas’s forehead wrinkles in skepticism. “I still prefer the cockroach. But some part of your soul injected itself into one of my more exposed frequencies. Under different circumstances, I would’ve stopped and excised the affected area before it spread, but. I was being pursued, and the mission had taken much longer than any of us anticipated.”

“Us? Thought it was just you down there.”

Cas looks vaguely offended, straightens and folds his arms like he just remembered he’s giving a deposition. “No, of course not. Michael assigned sixty-six angels in eleven groups of six, each escorted to the field by a seraph. We struck simultaneously at six different areas in perdition. From there we dispersed to individual targets –– to cause as much chaos as possible in order to help obscure the object of our mission, and to increase the odds that one of us would actually find you.”

“And you were the lucky winner.” Dean pushes down a touch of sick shame at the thought of it — he’d been coiled up like a snake around somebody else’s torment, anesthetized by it. It was one of the random rags of infernal time where his own pain decreased in proportion to how much he dealt out, and that was the closest thing Hell had to a Friday night.

“I was,” Castiel nods. “I took some liberties with my assignment,” he adds, squinting. “I flattered myself that I shared a special affinity with The Righteous Man.”

“That guy always sounded like kind of a cunt to me,” Dean notes. “You know, not withstanding the fact that I’m him.”

Castiel shrugs. “I found you, and I did what was necessary to save you, and my siblings did what was necessary to save me.” A little falter enters his voice. “Only twelve of us returned from that mission.” Cas looks up, out, away. A dove coos somewhere nearby of the Roadhouse; did it have a run-in with the windshield of an eighteen wheeler one day and show up here, Dean wonders, or does heaven make its own birds from scratch? That’s gotta be a softball compared to whether Betelgeuse is still open for business.

Castiel waits until the bird shuts up, then says, “Of those twelve surviving angels, I personally murdered nine, in everything that followed.”

After a moment Dean says “Yeah,” with practiced neutrality. He’s got some similar tallies, written in Sharpie on the back of his eyelids.

Cas sighs and his attention comes back down to the table. “By the time I received the authority to restore your soul to your body, the infection had spread almost past the point of containment. That’s why I resisted taking a vessel at first. I worried that occupying a human form would speed up the process.”

“Hey now. I thought you showed up naked because you thought I’d be one of those special people,” Dean quips, “Who can handle angel stuff without going all kibbles ’n bits.”

“That was only a partial truth.”

Dean tips the beer bottle in salute. “You’re a real special flavor of asshole, Cas.”

“So I’ve been told. I was right, though. When I took Jimmy as a vessel, I contracted — condensed — myself very severely. The infection had a much shorter distance to travel to reach all of my extremities, and a human form was the most hospitable environment possible.”

“You got a raging case of the Deans.”

Cas’s head kicks back in a laugh that kinda surprises them both. “Yes,” he says, grinning. “I did. I was very displeased, and very concerned I’d be found out and judged unfit for duty. And I very much was. Unfit, that is. Though I was not found out.”

“C’mon, never? You went rogue on the company.”

“Uriel suspected. Naomi certainly detected it later, as did Metatron. But in the moment, no. The Host’s attention was focused on the Apocalypse ahead, not on debriefing a mission that was considered a success. After the Cage was closed, I had too much influence to come under that level of scrutiny.”

“Hmh.” Dean realizes he’s been systematically picking down the label on the beer bottle, so he sets it on the ground before he gets sticky little shreds everywhere. “So I gotta ask. My little souvenir, the handprint. That’s where you grabbed me, with your lil…Mister Potato Head human arm?”

“It is.”

“If I’m the one who infected you, how come I’m the one who got burned?”

“My hand didn’t burn you.”

“Well, it ain’t fingerpaint.”

“Your own soul burned it, as it flowed out of your flesh and into mine. It burned until the moment when I finally released you from my grip. My hand healed itself; your arm did not.” Castiel gives a thin scoff. “I hadn’t planned to leave you interred.”

“Oh, no? Well that’s nice to hear, you know, a decade after the fact. I still have nightmares about that shit.”

Castiel winces. “It’s no excuse, but I was in a great deal of…the equivalent of pain. It took an immense effort to break off the inflow of your soul, and when I did manage it, I was thrown quite a ways by the recoil. By the time I recovered enough to return, you were already looting a gas station,” He finishes, dryly.

“Yeah, well, Dad didn’t think much of leisure as a virtue. Also I was thirsty, because I’d just crawled out of my own grave.”

“And I was distracted, because I’d just fought my way out of the inferno while being digested by a demented human soul.”

“You wanna call it even?”

Cas lifts his brows. “If you don’t mind.”

There is a long, dark breath, during which their little smiles fade.

“So, all that,” Dean says, because he’s a fucking coward.

“All that,” says Cas, because he isn’t.

Dean clears his throat. “That means you can see my soul-stuff 24/7, huh?”

Castiel slides one leg up onto the bench, shifts to sit astride it, like he’s maybe about to deliver an after-school PSA on the Real Deal About Drugs. “I can always see myself, and extensions of my self. And since your soul made itself into an integral part of me…I can see you.”

“I take it that’s not exactly in the manual.”

“No. I didn’t entirely understand it at first — for a long time, I convinced myself it was because you were designed to be a celestial vessel, and that I had been destined to save you from Hell.”

That thin, acidic feelings starts to rise up in Dean’s chest again. “Do you…” A dry swallow reflex grabs his throat. “Hm. Fuck.”

“What?” Cas asks, scooting forward. An angel. Scooting. What a world. “You can ask me anything, Dean. I hope we’re both past being offended.”

“Have you ever thought that. This whole deal. Our…thing.” Dean lets out a breath. “The way you feel about me. The way I feel about you.”

“Do I worry that its only basis is our shared material?”

Dean licks his lips, works a jaw muscle, forces out a nod.

Cas frowns, sets one elbow up against the table, then lets his head tip to the side. “Why do you love Sam?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I get it, he’s my brother. We got shared material, too. But we’re not talking genetics.”

“Genes were the initial basis of your love for Sam. But you share half as much material with Adam. Do you love him fifty percent as much as you do Sam?”

“One, love doesn’t work that way and you know it, and two, fucking of course not. I barely know the guy, and what I’ve seen didn’t exactly blow me away.” Not that the poor dumb kid ever really had a chance. “Sam’s Sam, he’s earned it a million times over just by bein’ him.”

“Then you understand.”

“But Cas, man…I…” Dean laughs, which is an abbreviated form of screaming, “I treated you like shit.”

Cas nods. “You did.”

“Okay, the rules say you’re not supposed to agree with me.”

“But the balance remains in your favor. Dean, are you genuinely afraid that you — care for me…” and Dean can hear the FCC live-bleep in that one, like does his total cowardice have a special color Cas can see with his soul-o-vision? “Only out of some compulsion?”

“No,” Dean says, to the great surprise of his frontal cortex, which was busy kicking the shit out of itself. “No,” he says again, just to make sure it wasn’t a fluke, that that answer actually came out of him and entered the living air between them.

Then the wave is rolling towards him and he enters that slim moment of body-physics where you either take a lungful and commit to diving under the break, or you kick out against the undertow, arch your back to meet the blow, and let yourself be flown all the way up to the waiting shore––

“No,” Dean says, “I love you.” And he chokes up a little, first at the release of saying it, then at how much of exactly jack-shit it changes anything so what was he even scared of, and then at the look on Cas’s face: how he’s frozen. Like that dog from that video, the one that loved tennis balls so goddamn much that his owner bought him a thousand fucking tennis balls and dumps them out all at once and the dog absolutely stalls the fuck out, just seconds on end of underspecced dog-brain hang time before he finally snaps back to reality and loses his absolute shit scrabbling all over the porch.

Castiel comes back online with a little choking noise of his own, and a kind of awkward scrabble for Dean’s hand.

“I have for a long time,” Dean continues, because apparently he’s continuing, “I’ve loved you for fucking ages, Cas. In people years, anyway, I’m sure that mean’s fuckall to somebody who’s a zillion––”

“I don’t,” Cas says thickly, “really give a damn about the age difference, Dean,” and cracks into a chuckle.

“So how come you never knew it?” Dean asks, feeling freedom turn into a hunger or something like vertigo. “If you can see my soul, how could you not know?”

Cas shrugs, a bit helplessly.

“Seriously,” Dean laughs, “how did I manage to hide that shit so well? Sammy found every nudie mag I ever shoplifted.”

Cas shakes his head. “You’ve never actually been able to hide anything from me.”

Dean scoffs. “C’mon, man. I snowed you plenty, or else we woulda had this conversation dirtside a long time ago.”

“Whatever I missed, Dean…it wasn’t because you succeeded at hiding it,” Castiel says, softly. He takes a slow, shaky breath, and meets Dean’s eyes with a smile. He lifts a hand to Dean’s face, bone and flesh on flesh and bone. “I just loved you enough to look away.”

It’s a long time before they go back inside. By any measure. {AO3}

#spn fanfiction #spn 15x20 #destiel #deancas #dean winchester #castiel #bless you all for your sexy and angsty coda fics please enjoy this massive wodge of angel lore wankery dating back 11 seasons

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tchallasbabymama · 4 years ago

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Hey y’all, here’s chapter 3 of my “Playlist” series (formerly untitled T’Challa fic). Let me know if you want to be tagged in anything! Make sure you read chapter two HERE first and check out my Masterlist. Word Count: 5916

CW: smut

“Let's go somewhere I don't have to work so hard to keep us from drowning, eh?”

“Where do you have in mind?” Ashanti asked him while peppering his jawline with kisses.

Ashanti’s mouth hung open as the lights came on around her. She couldn’t believe she was actually standing in the King of Wakanda’s royal quarters, and on their first date at that. His hands grabbed her waist and brought her from her stupor. He pulled her back into him and nuzzled into the crook of her neck before lightly kissing up to her ear.

“T’Challa, stop, it tickles,” she barely got out between giggles. His hands snaked around and gripped her fleshy stomach, tickling her more. “You put too much wine in me to be tickling me like this.”

T’Challa chuckled and let her out his grasp before pointing to a door on the far wall.

“Bathroom’s through there,” he kissed her cheek, then shook his head as he watched her ass shake while she walked away.

“Damn.”

Ashanti knew he was watching and sneakily smiled to herself before her expression dropped at the sight before her. She thought the king’s bedroom was nice, but it was nothing compared to the dream jungle spa bathroom she walked into. Tropical plants were scattered around the floor-to-ceiling bamboo room, all under a pyramid glass ceiling. The sunken jacuzzi in the middle of the room was obviously the main attraction, but her eyes were drawn to the rain shower and she forgot why she was even there.

She caught sight of a vanity and went over to set her purse down, checking out her reflection in the mirror.

“Thank Bast I kept the makeup simple.”

Meanwhile, T’Challa poured himself a drink to calm his nerves. He was fine until she went to the bathroom, but her absence smacked him back to his senses. He brought this woman he barely knows into the palace. Into his quarters. It wasn't an issue of security, he had already thoroughly vetted her, but his willingness to have her in his space shocked him. He never brought women back to the palace, not since Ramonda caught him sneaking two very tired-looking young ladies out one morning when he was home from college. Normally he would go to their place instead, enjoying the freedom to cut their time together short and leave whenever he wanted. But no, this time he brought his date home, and it baffled him.

The alcohol was doing absolutely nothing for him so he decided to roll up instead. He broke down the Snow Goddess OG and filled up his hemp wraps before licking it and rolling it tight. Right as he lit it, his ears perked up at the sound of the bathroom door opening, which he could barely hear over the music he had started up.

Don't talk

Just listen

First of all

I have to be honest with you baby

I lied

When I told you I never wanted to see you again

Can you please stay

Just for tonight

And maybe we can do something

Like make love

Watch the sunrise

Or listen to jojo, k-ci, sing us a verse

Slide closer baby

Ha, that devante baby

Oh you feel so sexy, so good

“Come join me on the patio” he shouted to her from outside.

When Ashanti stepped out the patio doors she was shocked once more.

“This view is...,” she gasped, trying but failing to find the words. She could see all of Birnin Zana and even some of the Mining and River provinces, and of course the Jabari mountains in the distance. A tear came to her eye as she looked out over her beautiful home. Suddenly the hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention and she felt T’Challa come up behind her. He leaned on the railing next to her, holding his expertly-rolled blunt.

“You should see it at sunrise and sunset, the most beautiful view in the world.”

“Is that an invitation, your highness?”

He playfully rolled his eyes at her platitude and lifted the blunt, offering it to her. She placed it between her lips and he lit the tip for her. She took a couple hits before passing it back to him.

“So you’re a chef and a stoner. What else don’t I know about you?”

T’Challa laughed and gave it some thought.

“Lets see...I’m an excellent dancer, my love language is touch, I strongly dislike musicals, I’m sure you can guess my favorite color-”

“It's yellow, right?” She said sarcastically, making him laugh more and cough a little from the smoke.

“You are so observant. You know, I like that about you.”

The two fell out laughing, and Ashanti was the first to regain composure.

“Wait what do you mean you hate musicals?”

“Just the serious ones. Drama and random singing don’t go together well in my book.”

He passed the blunt back to her and she took a long drag before letting the smoke migrate up to her nose. When she exhaled the smoke she caught him staring at her, and averted her eyes.

“There’s no reason to be shy, I only bite when you want me to.”

She felt a throbbing in her panties again, just like earlier at the lake. She knew why she came here, but now that she was in his room at the palace it seemed all that confidence from earlier at the lake had left her.

“Lets just enjoy each other’s company, no pressure. Would you like something to drink?”

“What do you have?”

“...everything.”

“Oh right, it’s the palace, duh,” she chuckled nervously. “Mango juice?”

“Coming right up. Care to join me? I can give you a quick tour.” T’Challa said before he could catch himself.

“What the fuck am I doing?”, he thought to himself. Here he was, inviting this woman into his inner sanctum after one date and offering her a grand tour of the palace. The logical side of him knew it was too soon, but the emotional side of him couldn’t care less. He wanted this woman in his life. He wasn’t the only one surprised by his willingness to let her into his world.

“Do you do this for all your suitors?” she asked playfully as he opened the door for her and led her down the hallway to the same elevator bank they arrived in.

“No, actually. I do not,” T’Challa responded, prompting Ashanti to blush at his words and change the subject.

“So you have the whole floor?” They stepped in the elevator and went down several stories. “What about everyone else?”

“They have their own floors as well,” he leaned into her ear. “Mine’s just on top.”

They exited the elevator and once again Ashanti was floored by the sight in front of her. Not of the kitchen, but of the rest of the royal family in the living area.

T’Challa hadn’t expected anybody to be awake at this hour or he wouldn’t have suggested she come with him. Three sets of eyes turned and stared at the two of them, jaws dropped.

“Oooh someone’s in trouble,” Shuri said as N’Jadaka snickered.

“H-hello usapho,” T’Challa stuttered, making his sister and cousin laugh even more before Ramonda shot them a look to shut them up.

“T’Challa, your friend looks to be on the verge of a heart attack. Are you alright dear?” Ramonda asked.

“Y-yes Queen m-mother, your highness, um- ma’am” Ashanti quickly corrected her mistake and saluted the royals.

“There is no need for that. Come join us, we just started an American drama N’Jadaka suggested called- oh what is it again Daka?”

“Love Jones, auntie,” he said with the frustration of someone who had clearly answered the question more than once.

“Yes, that is it. There is space for you both over on the couch. Shuri, come join me over he-” she motioned for Ashanti to come join her on the couch and as she took a step forward, a strong arm lightly tugged her back.

“Mama, that is not necessary, we just came down to grab something to drink.”

“And you can still do that,” the Queen Mother snapped at her son. “Young lady what is your name?”

“Ashanti Mostafa, ma’am.”

“The jewelry artist?!” Ramonda said excitedly while Shuri tore her eyes away from the screen.

“I must say, your work is beautiful, dear. That necklace is one of my favorite gifts unyana wam ever gave me, your talent is astounding.” Ramonda showered Ashanti with praise and she almost couldn’t take it.

“I wore it yesterday and had several people asked about it, so you might be getting a few more customers soon!” Shuri chimed in.

“Wow, I-...thank you so much.” Ashanti wandered over to the couch and sat down, much to T’Challa’s dismay. He joined her, sliding his arm around the back of the couch.

“So, how was the date?” N’Jadaka pushed.

“Can you mind your business, please?” T’Challa said and shot him a glare, while Ashanti chuckled.

“Must have been good since you brought her back here,” Shuri whispered, leading Ramonda to pinch her arm.

“So what is the movie about?” Ashanti asked the prince, trying to change the subject. He caught on to her game, but let her off the hook for now.

“Love Jones, it’s a Black American classic. A romantic drama,” N’Jadaka wiggled his eyebrows at his cousin and winked at his date. Ashanti blushed and looked back to T’Challa who was leering at the cheeky prince. She placed her hand on his thigh and he looked at her, removing the scowl from his face. They shared a smile as the other royals tried not to notice the cute moment.

Ashanti and the royals watched the movie in relative silence with T’Challa’s arm steadily sinking lower and lower until it finally rested around her shoulders. Ashanti leaned into his side, and his free hand found hers and intertwined their fingers. Halfway through the movie, Ashanti was lightly snoring on the king’s shoulder, and Shuri and N’Jadaka were out, too.

“I like her,” Ramonda whispered across the room to her son, half sleep herself.

“I do too,” he whispered back before kissing her forehead.

“I can see that. Well I don't want to fall asleep out here like you young folks, so I will see you all in the morning.”

“Good night umama.”

“Good night, son. You be good to that one,” she lightly scolded her son as she woke up her daughter and nephew to usher them out the room.

“Yes ma’am.”

T’Challa spent the rest of the movie panicking about what to do next. Should he stay still and let her sleep uncomfortably on the couch, should he wake her up to go home, or should he carry her up to his bed like he had wanted to do all night and let her sleep there? He didn’t want to seem too forward and he wasn’t sure about how she would feel waking up in his bed, but he knew waking her from her sleep wasn’t an option. Just as the credits finished rolling and he had decided to stay in that position for as long as she did, Ashanti started to stir.

“What’d I miss?”

He loved how her voice sounded after just waking up, the raspiness tickling his ears. She untangled herself from him and stretched her arms wide.

“The rest of the movie,” T’Challa gestured to the screen and smirked at her.

“That was so rude of me in front of your family, I am so sor-”

“Ashanti, it's no big deal. Umama and I were the only ones who didn't pass out and she went to bed halfway through.”

Ashanti nodded and let out a yawn. Thankful for her lack of morning breath, she leaned in to lightly kiss his lips.

“Mm, what was that for?”

“For being so comfortable to sleep on. I mean, damn.”

The two started laughing before the king looked the artist right in the eyes and pulled her in for a deep, slow kiss. Ashanti’s hand trailed up from around his abdomen to cup his cheek and his hand came up to grip her thigh while his other arm pulled her into him. She was wrapping her leg around him when a cough interrupted them. T’Challa pulled away from the kiss, turning instead to glare at the third person in the room. Ashanti hid in the crook of his neck, embarrassed to be caught by whoever.

“Aren’t you supposed to be asleep?”

“I came for my shoes. Auntie got us out of here so fast earlier I forgot to grab em.”

N’Jadaka quickly walked around the couch, found his shoes, and dipped. When he left, Ashanti lifted her head then her whole body from his lap. He looked like a sad puppy when she left his embrace, missing her warmth immediately.

“It’s late, I should g-”

“Stay, please. It is late and I have a whole ‘king size’ bed you can have to yourself.” T’Challa almost begged her. She pulled him up and off the couch, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on his jaw. She could hear the song they were listening to before they left his quarters playing in her head.

Sorry I left you

Left you cryin

But since you've been gone

I've been all alone

'Cause all of my tears

You know they left me drownin

Please baby I'm beggin

For you to stay at home

Tonight

Let's start our love again

Tonight

We can be more than just friends

Don't you know

The sun

Is going down

So baby won't you just stay

Baby won't you just stay

For a little while

Baby won't you just stay

For a little while

Baby won't you just stay

For a little while

Baby won't you just stay

For a little while

Baby won't you just stay

“You don't have to give up your bed, that I’m sure is the most comfortable thing in all of Wakanda. ‘I only bite when you want me to’,” Ashanti teased, throwing his own words back at him.

“So you’ll stay?”

“I’ll stay. I’m too tired to go anywhere anyways, I can barely- T’Challa!” she squealed as he picked her up bridal style. She clung to his neck and laid her head on his chest, too tired to fight him on it. She nuzzled into his neck as they rode the elevator back up to the top floor.

She was so tired she almost fell asleep again on the ride up, but the automated voice letting them know they had arrived woke her from her half-slumber.

“This man is just too damn comfortable,” she thought to herself. “He smells good, he’s warm...”

Just as she was sinking back into her relaxed state he placed her down at the foot of the bed.

“All I have for you to sleep in are my clothes, if that’s alright with you.”

“It is.” she smiled wide then started to take off her jewelry.

The king watched her from above in his standing position and stopped her from reaching for her shoe buckle.

“Here, let me,” he said softly before sinking down to one knee and pulling her foot into his lap. He unbuckled her sandal and pulled it off before kissing her ankle, and he did the same on the other side. Her eyes hung low with lust and fatigue, but she was laser-focused on him, trying to figure out how he knew that was her spot.

“Um, T’Ch-Challa?”

“Hm?”

“We should, um-”

“Yes, I’ll be back,” he cleared his throat and stood before turning and disappearing into what Ashanti assumed was his closet when he emerged with an Oxford t-shirt. “I already had the staff bring you a toothbrush and toothpaste, a silk scarf, black soap, and shea butter for your beauty and hygeine needs. They’re, uh, on the sink in the bathroom there.”

“Thank you, T’Challa,” she said with a soft voice.

“Don’t say my name like that if you want to sleep tonight. You’ve been warned.”

She jumped up from the bed and scurried to the bathroom to brush her teeth and shower. After she came out, he went in, taking a much quicker shower and emerging from the bathroom in nothing but a towel while Ashanti slid on her nightgown for the night. She didn't notice him at first, but he noticed her thick brown legs peeking out from his old college t-shirt and his towel jumped. By the time Ashanti realized he was even in the room, he had turned to go to his closet to pick out something to wear to bed. The king usually slept naked, but he had a couple of sleepwear options just in case. He slid on a pair of black silk pajama pants and padded back out to the bedroom.

Ashanti was climbing under the covers on his side of the bed, so he scooped her up and placed her gently on the left. He pulled back the covers for her and she slid under, then he climbed in bed on top of her and kissed her forehead before rolling off her to the other side of the bed. She couldn't help but giggle at his antics.

“Goodnight Ashanti.”

“Goodnight T’Challa,” she lightly pecked his lips then snuggled down into the covers. She was right about it being the most comfortable bed in the world, and she fell asleep almost instantly. T’Challa stayed up a short while watching her sleep before exhaustion overtook him as well.

Throughout the night Ashanti kept moving closer and closer to T’Challa until she ended up wrapped around him. Her leg was thrown over his side and his arm had come down to hold it in place while his other arm tucked around her midsection. When she eventually tried to roll away, his arms wouldn’t let go, but instead he rolled with her, spooning her from behind.

They spent the rest of the night connected, both physically and mentally, each dreaming of the other.

When morning came, T’Challa was the first to arise, in more ways than one. His dream had been salacious and his morning wood was something fierce. He tried his best to move his pelvis away from Ashanti, but she would move with him searching for his warmth. He eventually gave up and tried to focus on anything other than his erection, landing on her braids that were tied back yet still somehow sprawled out everywhere.

“I could get used to waking up like this,” he mumbled, the rumble in his chest waking her from her resting state. Her hand came up and caressed the arm that held her tight around her midsection, intertwining their fingers and turning around to face him, placing his arm back around her.

“Good morning beautiful,” he said grinning from ear to ear. Ashanti nearly melted at his husky morning voice. She wanted to hear it more often.

“Good morning your highness,” she giggled as he growled and tickled her sides.

“What did I tell you about that?”

“N-nothing, my warning was about your name!” she got out between laughs. In all her struggling to get out of his grasp she somehow wiggle her way back on her other side to escape the bed, only to be pulled back into the grasp of the Black Panther. When he pulled her into him he had forgotten about his situation, but she quickly became aware of his hard dick.

“I am sorry-”

“Don’t be,” she said as she grinded her hips into his, his dick resting comfortably between her cheeks.

“Mmm, Ashanti you’re playing with fire.”

She turned back to look at him as her hips moved round and round.

“Burn me, then.” She reached out to pull his face into hers but he resisted.

“Do you have to work today?”

“Well, yes, but-”

“Then not today. I want to take my time with you, plus you’ll need more than a couple hours to walk again.”

His threat did nothing but rev her up more.

“It is good to know you like morning sex, though. I’ll keep that in mind,” he teased.

Ashanti rolled towards the edge of the bed and threw her legs over the side. He looked at her with concern, but when she looked back all he saw was lust.

“I can’t lay next to you then, it’s too tempting.”

“‘It’ as in…?” T’Challa pointed down his body.

“Yes! I saw that monster at the lake, keep it away from me unless you plan on doing something with it.”

T’Challa chuckled.

“I can respect that,” he got up from the bed and held his hand out to her. She took it, tentatively, and followed him out to the patio. He pointed to her left at the rising sun and her mouth fell open when she turned around and took in the sight before her. The sunrise over Wakanda was even more beautiful from this height. She leaned into his shoulder and he kissed her forehead. The two of them stood like that for at least 15 minutes, just enjoying each other’s company.

_________________

Ashanti knew her roommates would give her shit for coming home at this hour wearing the same clothes she left in, but what she didn't expect was a damn welcome party.

“Oh my Bast, there she is. Tell us everything!” Binta screamed as Kwame rounded the table to attack her with a hug. He pulled back and took in her appearance.

“Why do you look so well-rested? You're supposed to be crawling right now,” he said, checking for bags under her eyes. “You're too put together. Spill!”

“Ok ok, damn. Can I get comfortable first before I tell you the story? Can I do that?”

“She’s too feisty, she didn't get any,” Binta whispered to her twin brother.

Ashanti shot them both a deadly glare on her way up the stairs to go change.

She made it to her room and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. That comfortable bed and that comfortable man really had her looking more rested than she had in months. She quickly changed into sweats and a tank top before heading back downstairs to face her roommates.

She jogged down the steps, remembering she missed her morning run, and found them still in the kitchen digging into breakfast. She watched as they piled their plates high, and sat down while they enjoyed their breakfast.

“Ok girl, so tell us about the date and why you didn't come home until 8am.”

“So…,” she started as the twins leaned in. “The date was a picnic at some private lake. It was beautiful, and he cooked u-”

“The king can cook?!” Binta gasped.

“That's what I said! But yeah girl, he cooked us a whole caribbean meal because he knows how much I love the Lost Tribe and their cultures- by the way, have you heard of Jodeci? Anyways, we can come back to that. So we’re talking and flirting and we combined our favorite songs into one playlist, and vibed out talking about the music...then we went for a swim-”

“A swim? You got naked in front of the king?” Kwame asked, staring at her with accusatory eyes.

“More importantly, did he get naked? Tell me about the strength of the Black Panther, honey.”

“Chiiiiiiile, that man was carved by Bast, straight out of Mount Bashenga itself.”

Kwame and Binta swooned, he was the first to get it together and get back to the conversation at hand.

“Alright, so what happened next? You fuck by the lake?”

“No we made out in the lake...then went back to the palace-”

“The palace?!”

“The palace?!” the twins said in total shock from the new bit of information.

“The palace, friends...and I ended up meeting the royal family on accident,” Ashanti watched her roommates’ eyes widen with every word, worried they’d pop out of their heads in a minute. “The Queen Mother and Princess Shuri complimented my designs, and we all fell asleep in the living room watching a Black American romance movie called ‘Love Jones’. Then when I woke up he asked me to stay…”

“Ok and you obviously did, so how many times did you get that back blown out?”

Ashanti chuckled at their impending let-down.

“Zero.”

“You expect us to believe- so you just slept there?”

“Mhm, in his bed...with him...all cuddled up. Then this morning we watched the sunrise over Wakanda and he made me breakfast. Woo, I almost fainted watching that man in the kitchen.”

They could catch flies, their mouths were open so wide.

“So let me get this straight...you had a romantic date with the king, made out naked in a private lake, he took you back to the palace to meet his fami-” Binta began.

“No, that was an accident. Carry on.”

“Ok whatever, so you run into his family, hang out with them, and then stay the night, had a romantic morning after, and at no time did you two get it in?! I don’t have your self control because, baby, I would’ve fucked that man in that lake.”

“I almost did, but my nerves kept getting in the way…”

“Oh honey, that’s ok. When’s the next date?” Kwame asked her.

A slow smile crept up Ashanti’s face and her eyes glazed over thinking about seeing T’Challa again.

“He has to go out of the country for the next week or so, but whenever he gets back I invited him over for me to return the favor and cook for him. You two need to make yourself scarce though.”

“That’s fine with me, I started seeing this hot mining tribe guy. Girl, he’s so strong from all that hard labor...woo,” Kwame fanned himself.

“And I have an open invitation to stay with Kiki, so I’ll go catch up with her while you catch that Black Panther dick.”

“Thanks,” Ashanti giggled out. Her friends were always so supportive of her, especially when dick was involved. They had been trying to get her back in the dating world for the last two years, but she had been so wrapped up in work that she barely had time for anything or anyone else. Her last relationship was short-lived and ended because her shop always came first. He was a good guy, but the sex was just alright. Before him was a manipulative piece of shit she stayed with for 3 years because she thought it was love, who cared more about his release than hers. Every man she’s ever dated left her either heartbroken or orgasm-less, and for years she wanted nothing more than to feel what she’s feeling for the king. Her friends knew she hadn't really had a proper dick-down and had made it their personal missions to get the cobwebs knocked off her pussy. The Black Panther seemed like the perfect candidate.

“So, wow...the king?” Binta was still processing the information.

“You had to kiss a lot of frogs, but look at you now!” Kwame chimed in.

__________

When Ashanti got to her shop, she was met with the sight of an enormous bouquet on her stoop. She immediately knew who it was from, and one look across the street at her parents outside their restaurant told her that they knew too.

“It was dropped off about an hour ago.” Chidi said loudly as he crossed the street towards his daughter to get a look at the flowers. It was a large bouquet of violets, her favorite.

“They’re beautiful,” Ashanti said with a goofy smile on her face. “Help me move this inside before they draw any more attention?” She and her dad brought the violets in and set them on her counter by the register. She stood back to admire them once more.

“So I take it the date went well?” Bisa asked her daughter, causing Chidi to roll his eyes and exit the shop while blowing his daughter a kiss.

“Mama, it was amazing! We already planned a second date for when he gets back in town.” Ashanti was giddy like a schoolgirl having her first crush as she told her mother the PG version of her date.

“Oh, that sounds wonderful, baby!” Bisa pulled her in fora hug and kissed her forehead. “He sounds like a good man.”

“That he is.”

The two spoke for a little while longer before saying a quick goodbye and parting to tend to their respective businesses. When Ashanti was alone she let out a loud sigh, staring at the beautiful flowers from her suitor. She picked up the card and read his note.

Beautiful flowers for a beautiful woman.

See you soon,

She held the note close to her chest and rocked on her heels, letting the feeling of a crush overcome her. She reached down and tweaked her beads, causing their playlist to pull up and shuffle. Of course this was one of those times when the shuffle feature seemed to read her mind, and what she referred to as ‘their song’ from here on out began to play. She swayed along, remembering the feel of his hands on her body. His warm, large, strong hands...

So here we are

Just me and you

We're thinkin of the things

That we used to do babe

Tonight is yours, lady

Yours and mine

Let's try again to put our trust on the line, yeah

Tonight

Let's start our love again

Tonight

We can more than just friends

Don't you know

The sun

Is going down

So baby won't you just stay

For a little while

Baby won't you just stay

Throughout the day her mind flashed back to the night before, missing the feel of his lips, the smell of his skin, and those deep dark eyes that became black holes when he was all worked up.

It was a busy day at the shop. A group of kids had come in for a pottery class in the back, and her jewelry was flying off the shelves. The art supply customers weren’t in short supply either, and she thought about finally hiring some help. Just as she finished dealing with a rush of customers and closed up the shop for her lunch break, her kimoyo beads dinged. She took a look and smiled at the name.

T: I miss you already.

She couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear.

A: I miss you too. How are the Avengers?

T: A pain, as usual. All they do is argue with each other, I could get most of this done by myself. How was the shop today?

A: The busiest I think it’s ever been! I’m pretty sure I have your sister to thank for that. I’ll have to hire employees if it continues on like this.

T: I can’t believe you’ve been doing all of that by yourself. Oh by the way did you get my gift?

She looked over at the violets on the counter and bit her lip.

A: I did! How did you know violets were my favorite?

T: I just took a wild guess.

A: Good guess…

T: I feel like I know you so well already after just the one date, tell me something I don't know about you.

A: I’ve never broken a bone before.

T: Really? I’ve broken bones more times than I can count. Thankfully with the heart shaped herb in my system, I can recover fairly quickly.

A: What was your most embarrassing moment?

The bubbles disappeared for a moment. She wasn't sure if he was thinking on it or if he had to go, but then they reappeared.

T: My sophomore year of college, I was home for winter break and my umama caught me sneaking two ladies out of the palace. She looked so disappointed in all three of us, and I felt like an antelope in headlights. Until last night that was the last time I brought anyone home, by the way.

A: Two, huh?

T: That’s what you got out of the story?

A: uh, yeah, duh.

The two went back and forth for the rest of the day before choosing to video chat that night. They laid up all night talking about everything and nothing, just enjoying each other’s company. There were long stretches of silence when one or the other focused on another task, but neither could bring themself to end the call. It wasn’t until Ashanti fell asleep that he even thought about hanging up, but he let the chat continue for a few more minutes while he watched her sleep peacefully.

Two weeks passed by with the king and the artist regularly texting and video chatting from across the world. They were both anxious to be back in the other’s arms, and couldn't wait for his mission with the Avengers to come to a close. It finally did, over a week past it’s supposed end date. When T’Challa broke the news to Ashanti, her face lit up like a fire. He was set to come back Tuesday night, so they planned their date for Wednesday over yet another kimoyo chat.

“So what are you making me?” T’Challa asked her in jest.

In all honesty, she hadn’t thought very much about the menu.

“It’s a surprise, mister.”

“Mister? There are so many better names you could call me-”

Sir? Daddy? Kumkani? Her mind raced through the possibilities, enjoying each one. In their kimoyo dates they both had a habit of getting frisky. Sometimes one or both of them would be naked or in some state of undress, and sometimes things escalated from simply hot to downright pornographic. Ashanti learned that the king was a dominant man with a filthy mouth who loves to watch her put on a show, with him as director of course. By day three he had Ashanti topless, sucking on her own nipples, and today she had her fingers deep in her pussy all up in the camera for him to see every drop. She wasn’t the only one on display, he had his vibranium-hard dick out in his hand, stroking from his balls to the tip of his dick, pulling back his foreskin on the way back down. When he came, she stared at the milky substance dripping over his fist and stuck out her tongue, wishing she could taste him,

“You know, if you were here I’d expect you to clean this mess up. Right, kitten?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Uh-uh, not sir. You know who I am, don't you?”

“Yes.”

“Yes who?”

“Yes Kumkani.”

A wicked smile crossed his face and he chuckled lowly.

“Good girl. Are you tired already?”

“Baby I just drained myself on camera, be happy I can talk.”

“Mm, I like ‘baby’ too.”

Ashanti giggled at his one track mind, “Challa, let me get some sleep.”

“Alright, sithandwa. Sweet dreams,” he sighed then blew her a kiss. She blew one right back before cutting off the feed and laying her head down to rest, their song playing in her head.

Forget about yesterday

'Cause I want you so bad

Make love to me like you never had

My love

Is coming down

So baby won't you just stay

For a little while

Baby won't you just stay

For a little while

Next Chapter

#cecewritessometimes #black panther fic #t'challa x oc #t'challa #black!oc

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shimmershae · 3 years ago

Text

My thoughts on Episode 6--On the Inside

Very appropriate title by the way. Works in a multitude of ways.

As always, my randomness is going beneath a cut again to spare the eyeballs of those of you that don’t want to see it at all and also? Help those of you that have somehow stayed spoiler-free in this brand-new age of early release episodes. It is still so wild to me that I’m a full episode ahead of half the fandom. I don’t know what I’m going to do when we get to the final episode and they decide to make us all suffer together--because somehow I do feel they will do exactly that after spoiling us for the first 23 episodes. It is going to be agonizing.

Anyway. Without further ado, Shae’s stream of consciousness review (of sorts).

Not fair, Angela. Opening the episode with that shot of that big ass spider. I hate those suckers. So naturally, they’re an easy sell for setting the horror scene to me, lol.

Okay. Who the hell’s chasing Virgil and Connie? Walker No-See-Ums?

Barely a minute in and the atmosphere for this episode is moody AF.

What is this? Tara Jr. The Walking Dead? LOL. Where’s the Scarlett for this mini plantation house? Anyway. First three minutes of this episode? Just as attention grabbing as the first five episode openings this season. I don’t think people out there are giving our writers enough love for that. Every episode so far has opened like a mini movie.

With the way the Walking Dead logo keeps crumbling away with each successive episode, somehow it wouldn’t surprise me at all if the Carol and Daryl spinoff was eventually titled The Living and had flowers growing out of each letter, lol. I mean, there would be a certain sort of life-affirming symmetry in a show that’s been promised to be much lighter in tone doing just that.

More Carol and Aaron? Yes, please. I don’t necessarily like Carol staying at home and sitting the sidelines like a figurative happy little homemaker in the B story while the rest of the mains are trying like hell to sell the A story, but if she’s going to be totally prohibited from the main storyline until it’s time to blow shit up? I’m going to continue enjoy getting to see her do what she should have been doing for seasons--interacting with others in the community, especially Aaron and the ladies.

Truly. I really am loving my girl getting some quality Aaron and Rosita time. It’s so long overdue.

Bless sweet Kelly. Riding off to her sister’s rescue.

Why isn’t Lydia shown as part of these plans? For someone that could barely read last season, I doubt that big ass map was a piece of cake for her and it’s all just guesswork anyway without her guidance. I mean, why does it feel like they are cutting some of this stuff that might not seem like much plot-wise but would go a long way toward establishing different character beats? Personally, I would have loved to see her involved in the search and sharing scenes again with Carol and bonding with Kelly.

Virgil be having that “I always feel like somebody’s watching me” feeling. Don’t you hate that, lol?

“You haven’t slept in days.” But how many days, Virgil? I’m going to need a number because I’m confused AF about this timeline at this point. What we’re seeing and what different pieces of dialogue is telling us is not exactly lining up. I’m going to find it awful hilarious if it hasn’t even been two weeks since the cave in. For reasons.

Connie’s spidey senses are clearly tingling.

Alrighty, then. She’s clearly got PTSD. Understandable. They’ve all had it. Some have been treated more sympathetically than others, though.

I mean, it never seems to cross anybody’s mind how Carol probably sees Henry’s head on that pike, Mika’s pale and bloody body, Lizzie crumpled face down in a bed of yellow flowers, Sophia with a smoking bullet hole through her undead head whenever she closes her eyes but whatever.

Okay though. But what if Connie had really shitty, impossible to read handwriting? AKA doctor’s handwriting. What then?

Leah’s face honestly twists my insides whenever I see it, lol. It’s quiet a visceral thing. No, that does not make me a horrible person. Not everybody wants or has to drink the awesome, great, redeemable villainess Kool-Aid. IMHO, she’s got a face meant for a Walker. Perfect makeover idea. Eh. Mostly it’s her expression and the deadness of her eyes.

Anyway. Why is it always the fingers? Eff that.

Listen. If ya’ll can’t tell Daryl’s conflicted AF with the situation he’s landed in, you don’t know how to read NR’s face and eyes. He’s not a masterclass like MMB but he’s pretty darn good when he wants to be.

I honestly feel sorry for Redshirt Frost.

“You do what you gotta do.” Frost knows what’s what and he’s willing to walk the walk for Maggie. Impressive loyalty. I’m left wondering how the current, colder incarnation of Maggie inspired it because I’m still struggling to see it. Anywho. My point is the dude knows the score and just gave Daryl the okay.

Daryl taking off his angel vest before stepping into the role of torturer/interrogator=him shedding the persona/the man Judith and RJ and Lydia and Carol know him to be. Pushing away his man of honor status so he can just survive somehow.

Pope never quits chewing whatever the hell he’s got in his mouth. It’s kind of distracting.

Ohhh. We’re back to the Haunted Mansion. I mean house. Where are the Hitchhiking Ghosts?

All the eyes scratched out of those creepy pictures=spooky.

The good old fogged up bathroom mirror shot. Somebody’s been watching and studying their horror movies, lol. Not gonna lie though. I’m legit bracing myself for the jump scares I know have to be coming.

I’m loving the music/score in these scenes.

Truthfully, I could care less about these Reapers. But they are hella attractive, lol. Listen. Angela knows what she’s doing.

Kelly’s horse is so pretty. Prayer chain for that baby.

More dead horses? Why?

Connie’s slingshot? Sorry. I maintain, no matter how much I like these two, that they have the lamest weapons ever. Endless supply of Virginia rocks or not.

So. Did Virgil and Connie enjoy a little equine for dinner? Did they kill it before the Walkers fed? What monsters! Yeah, no. Not if they were starving even if I personally could not have. The more probable story is they fled the camp in a panic and left the horse behind and then it went down. Sorry. I didn’t exactly study the wounds on the poor animal because it is so traumatizing to me to continue to see them meet such dastardly ends on this show. I don’t know who the hell has such a score to settle with horses but stop it.

Days. It’s only been days. Not weeks. So many times with all that Daryl and Company have had to contend with since the cave in? Those do not exist, lol. They’re just a convenient, appeasing piece of dialogue thrown at a fanbase primed and ready to read everything into not much of anything. There’s just not been enough time for it to happen unless Daryl has literally been up 24/7 for all of them. You know, strategizing how to attack the remainders of Alpha’s horde, figuring out how to defend Hilltop before it fell, healing from the wound he sustained at Alpha’s hand, sitting on that log all damn night with Negan waiting on Carol to come home, having a lover’s quarrel with his best damn everything, taking care of the Grimes babies and Lydia, being the reluctant leader. Kang, why you playing them like that? Daryl’s a super guy but he’s not a superhuman with clones. So many times my ass.

Seriously. Who been watching Connie and Virgil? The MIA Oceansiders? Beta’s Fee Fi Fo Fum Ghost?

Nice. A Michonne mention. Maybe the truth will start to trickle out.

LMAO at Connie’s “I’m not staying here.” Me neither, girl. I would be outta that house so fast.

They really “Quiet Placing” this episode. Honestly? I’m kinda loving it.

WTF was that? I know she can’t hear but you telling me all the little hairs on her arms, legs, and neck didn’t stand the fuck up and say fuck this shit, I’m gone? Pardon my language, lovelies, but that moment had my heart kicking up several beats.

Okay, okay. To be fair to Connie, every hair on her body been doing that since the front door closed. Maybe they’re desensitized.

Gollum’s chasing Connie!!! He/She wants their Precious!!!

The knee jerk reactions about this episode sight unseen are OTT, honestly. And I mean no disrespect by saying that. I can understand completely where they’re coming from because we’ve been burned so long in this fandom. But it’s obvious the spoiler source has their particular biases and reads into things in such a way that don’t line up with what’s actually being shown onscreen. Daryl’s loyalty in this episode and all along quite clearly lies with his family and his community. He’s been playing Leah since the start and is truly just trying to survive somehow.

Awful thought. The Reaper that’s so suspish of Daryl--haven’t quite caught his name or really cared to. I feel like he might try to get to Daryl somehow. When he realizes that Daryl cares no more for Leah than any human would care for somebody (they thought) they used to know? He’s going after Dog. Or Carol should she finally join this story.

I refuse to believe Carol isn’t going to be a part of this story. Because they messing with her mans, lol.

“You’re ever with us or you’re not.” Now where have I heard those words before? I wish I could find that Daryl gif because that had to be one of the funniest things ever, lol.

Unrealistic suggestion to Daryl, Leah? Breathing oxygen seems to piss off Carver. Oh look. He finally has a name for me, lol.

I love how all three of the ladies--Carol, Magna, and Rosita--look at Kelly with such indulgent, adoring “little sis, you alright?” eyes.

They are seriously the most beautiful quartet of characters. I mean all of them are lovely but Carol and Rosita this season? Ugh. The unfairness of the pretty.

Human bones. Terminus callback, lovelies. How it all would have eventually gone down if Gareth and Co. hadn’t met the business end of Rick’s red machete.

So many horror movie homages in this one.

Virgil’s like “let’s leave this Texas Chainsaw Massacre behind.”

Connie and Virgil have obviously bonded, ya’ll. I’m surprised by how much I’m enjoying their scenes together when the character mostly got on my nerves with Michonne. He’s a good actor and the core of his character is sympathetic, but I’m not going to lie. I wasn’t super enthused when he was the one that rescued Connie because I didn’t know how their scenes would play out. But there’s a nice synergy there.

Okay. Does Carver want Leah for himself? Because I’m sure Daryl at this point would love to scream “take her, I know where I fucking belong!”

Daryl’s digging in deep because Carver has shown him Leah’s potential weak spot. Nuance is truly lost on some people, LMAO. He cares about Leah as a human being probably. He’s Daryl, after all. The sweet one. But he sees her as his way outta this and he’s going to exploit it.

It’s nice to have a silent Negan for once, lol. I can pretend he didn’t take my baby Glenn away from me and enjoy JDM’s pretty.

So. These cannibal people were the watchers? Hmm.

I’m really digging Virgil 2.0. Yeah. Nobody’s surprised more than me.

Sweet, sweet scene between Virgil and Connie. His determination to reunite her with her family brings back the sympathy I felt for him when he told Michonne “I promised her flowers. Every day.”

Damn. How many of those creepy crawly cannibals are there?

How brave of Connie to confront her fears to save someone she’s obviously grown to care about.

The Kelly/Connie reunion gave me chills and made me cry. Thank fuck Angela didn’t cheapen that moment by having it focus on literally anybody else. Kelly is the most important person in the whole world to Connie and vice versa. Just like Carol is the most important person in the whole world to Daryl and vice versa. Angela fucking knows. Everybody does. Except the people busy building castles out of sand while the waves of Carol’s and Daryl’s converging stories keep crashing closer and closer to shore.

Such a beautiful moment given to us by Angel Theory and Lauren Ridloff. So authentic and sweet. Kelly and Connie are home to each other.

Poor Frost. That’s all I gotta say about that.

WTF, though. Was Mel just not available or what? I want to see more of the ASZ characters that I care about, not the Reapers. Like I’d be fine with the story if all the characters not named Maggie, Negan, or Daryl weren’t surviving on crumbs during it. Especially the 2nd billed actress on the entire show. Angela. Please. Fix this.

One last WTF. Seriously. WTF has Maggie done to inspire Pope’s obsession? It better be juicy after all this shit.

Overall impression of the episode--

One of my favorites of the season so far. The horror aspects were fantastic, IMHO. I truly didn’t expect to like Connie and Virgil’s scenes as much together so that was a nice surprise. She got the reunion that felt most true and earned for the character and her story and I thank Angela from the bottom of my heart for that.

I would have loved more Carol but I always want more Carol. I’m okay with her taking a backseat because ultimately? This was Kelly’s moment with her sister. Carol and Connie will eventually have their time to sit down and talk. And pick back up their blossoming friendship because I truly do not feel Connie blames Carol at all.

I do wish Lydia had been included with the girl group. Last episode felt like it was leading up to that.

The Reaper storyline continues to be the weakest link because every time we see them the dialogue and interactions feel totally recycled from the time previous. I feel like it would have totally been helped by a tighter focus and less stretching out because 8 episodes of this is really diluting what I feel like Angela and Co. are going for. I’m not here for Leah being redeemed or being a bigger focus in any of the episodes because she does nothing of interest for me. I’m just peeking in on that story for the Daryl of it all.

Speaking of the Daryl? You lovelies out there gotta stop taking that spoiler source’s recaps at face value because it’s obvious to me at least that there’ some bias at work. Every action and word coming from Daryl is coming from a place of loyalty to his family and wanting to protect them, no matter how he has to dirty his hands. Leah is just a means to his ultimate end. She’s not his future. She never was. His future’s already spoken for and 2023 can’t get here soon enough. But like Daryl, we have to just survive somehow.

Oh goodie. More Maggie and Negan next episode and looks like no real follow up on Connie and the ASZ reunions. Hopefully, this is yet another instance of the previews being deceiving but I’m not holding my breath.

Until later, lovelies.

Hope my word vomit didn’t bore you too much.

#The Walking Dead #Season 11 #TWD spoilers #things that make me smile and cry #for reasons #ignore all the typos #with something this longwinded?#LOL #there's bound to be plenty

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chisinpink · 4 years ago

Text

The Only One: A Mastermind!Nagito AU Story - PROLOGUE

Hello lovelies, I’ve posted a *lot* about my Mastermind!Nagito AU on tiktok (I’m @chisben there as well if you wanna check it out), and I rly wanna share it here so here’s the prologue! Special thanks to @servanthaji for helping out with the planning of this whole story in general!

(Content warning for mentions of bombs and bombings, swearing and crying.)

☘️

JUNKO: Yep, that’s the day that it happened. The day everything started getting… pretty scary, if you ask me! I’m just glad you were outta town for that, and baby was home sick. That’s, like, the only reason she’s here today, too!

HAJIME: Wait, wait, slow down! What are you even talking about…?

JUNKO: Uhh, I’m getting to that? Besides, don’t you know that guy too? Nagito Komaeda?

HAJIME: Not really… I mean, I knew of him, but I was in the reserve course. I didn’t really talk to him or anything until I went to school that Monday, and… there was nobody there except him.

JUNKO: Oh, yea? Did he tell you anything?

HAJIME: Not really. After I got shot at and ran in the school, I asked him what the hell was going on, but it was like I wasn’t there either. He just changed the subject to hope over and over again, like I asked a totally different question, and eventually I just walked away. I still don’t know what he was doing there.

JUNKO: Then maybe he doesn’t want you to know, y’know? You’re so lucky you have me, then~!

(She smirks playfully. Hajime stares at her blankly and her face drops. She stares at a map with a pen in hand.)

JUNKO: Come ooon, I’m coping! This is pretty stressful for everyone, y’know, I use humor to forget about all this stupid shit.

HAJIME: Whatever… just… tell me what’s going on.

JUNKO: Well, what happened that day… that was the start of The Biggest, Most Awful, Most Tragic Event in Human History… in my opinion. And that’s saying a lot, because this world is filled with despair! And, like, his whole class helped him do what he did to the country! No idea why that is, but we can all fill you in on the rest, I guess. Preeeety sure we were all there in some way, ‘cept my baby.

(She gestures to the entirety of Class 78 of Hopes Peak Academy, standing and sitting in the basement of the school, as well as Mikan Tsumiki, who has a timid smile on her face as Junko looks back at her. Hajimes face drops.)

HAJIME: Wh… what?? That can’t be it, that can’t be what happened…! The whole class?? The whole country?!

JUNKO: Eeeyup! They evacuated the school by putting a bomb under their teachers desk, and apparently all around the school, and I have NO idea how that lady didn’t croak! Anyways, everyone had to leave, and… that’s basically all I know. They just repeated that ooover and ooover on the news, it made me sick!!

(She threw her pen at a tiny radio propped up on a few cardboard boxes.)

HAJIME: Wh… this doesn’t… but… but, I...

(Kyoko steps forward and faces Hajime.)

KYOKO: I have some more information on what happened that day. After we were trapped here in the basement, all we had was the radio to inform us of the true nature of what happened. This is what I wrote down from those broadcasts.

(She hands Hajime a folder that contains three sheets of paper, all three of them hand-written notes. He begins reading.)

KYOKO: The class of 77-B was, most likely, all apparently under some sort of drug-induced psychosis. Most witnesses reported that they were acting strangely or out of character before they planted the bombs, and their eyes were hazy and…

HAJIME: ”swirled”, “mixed”, “terrifying”, “comforting”, “light and dark” ...none of these make any sense.

KYOKO: My thoughts exactly. This entire event is bizarre and without any logical reasoning behind it… if you’d only heard about it on the news. But I think Makoto and I know more than any news outlets.

HAJIME: How?

(She looks over her shoulder to Makoto, signaling him to stand up.)

MAKOTO: Well, about a month ago me and Kyoko were going to one of the computer rooms to print something, but it was kind of out of the way, so we didn’t expect him to be there. N-Nagito, I mean. We saw him talking to Chihiro, and, uhm… I didn’t hear that part.

(He looks up to Chihiro. They stand meekly and fold their arms.)

CHIHIRO: H-he had been asking me to collaborate with him on a personal project, but… I didn’t have any spare time, and I didn’t even know him that well! So I finally just told him no, and he left me alone for a day or two… but t-then…

(Tears form at the corners of their eyes.)

CHIHIRO: H-he told me that… he was gonna… destroy the sc-sc-school if I didn’t-!

(They cover their face, and Makoto reaches out to rub their shoulder.)

MAKOTO: It’s not your fault, Chihiro. It’s nobody's fault but his. B-but anyway, after we heard about that, we decided that we had to keep an eye on him, but… basically the next day is when the bombs went off.

HAJIME: Why didn’t you just… tell a teacher what he told Chihiro?

MAKOTO: In hindsight… yeah, that would’ve been the safest thing we could’ve done. But Kyoko thought that we couldn’t keep an eye on him if he was expelled for that, a-and he could have been doing anything at home, so we fo-

KYOKO: Makoto, please, don’t. I was a coward, and I didn’t trust anybody else to investigate the matter. This whole situation could have been de-escalated dramatically if I had told school faculty.

(Kiyotaka stands from his spot next to Mondo.)

TAKA: You DIDN’T inform a teacher, or the Headmaster?! Miss Kirigiri, the school faculty always knows what is best for us!!

MONDO: Yeaaaah, is that why they all jumped ship and fucked off to who-knows-where so we could fight like dogs in the basement?

AOI: Hey, they did what they could, okay?? They had to protect themselves like everyone else! We’re not any better by hiding in the basement.

MONDO: Where the fuck ELSE were we supposed to go?? Candy land?!

YASUHIRO: Hey hey hey, Chihiro was right to lead us here the day the bombs went off! But I hear ya, maybe we coulda moved out of Japan together or somethin’ instead of hiding in Japan!

TOKO: I-I see why you’ve had to retake this year as m-much as you did now, you dumbass! He could b-be expanding anywhere now!!

BYAKUYA: As much as I hate to agree with her, I do. Nowhere is truly safe, and for all we may know, we’re being actively searched for. It’s only a matter of time before we have to relocate.

SAYAKA: I-I can’t stay here another second!!

CELESTIA: Oh, so do you two suggest that we run out into the streets and expose ourselves to the predators? Play Nagitos game of cat and mouse?

LEON: Hell NO, I’m not playing that freaks game! But if he’s got his little possie out there looking every which way for us, then we gotta at least try and delay it!

SAKURA: On the other hand, we don’t know what they might want from us, if anything, or how bad the situation has escalated since we decided to hide.

HIFUMI: We don’t even KNOW what’s out there w-waiting for us anymore?! There could be giant mutant spiders wanting to turn us into baby food by now! I’m staying right HERE.

YASUHIRO: ...okay, I’m officially lost. Are we moving or staying?

SAYAKA: Moving!!

BYAKUYA: If you all intend on surviving, then you’ll all relocate. If you intend on being brutally murdered, then by all means, feel free to stay for a bit longer.

LEON: What in the actual fuck is wrong with you??

MAKOTO: H-hey, everybody calm down!!

SAKURA: We cannot make a decision until we know more about the outside world. AOI: But isn’t it because of what we don’t know that we have to go out there by now?

SAYAKA: Maybe some of us could go and some of us could stay?

TOKO: W-what if that reveals the hiding spot f-f-for everybody else??

MIKAN: (wiping away tears and hiccupping) N-nooo!!

YASUHIRO: Then we all have to come to the same decision, then.

CELESTIA: Yes, good luck reaching a peaceful consensus during the middle of an apocalypse!

BYAKUYA: I never said that it had to be a peaceful decision. If needed, you will all follow me kicking and screaming so I don’t perish thanks to your idiocy.

MONDO: I’ll knock some idiocy into ya if you keep runnin’ your mouth like that!

TAKA: Remember to take deep stomach breaths, bro! I think we can all solve this by utilizing a popular vote!

HIFUMI: But wouldn’t whoever’s the most popular win anyway??

HAJIME: SHUT UP!!! EVERYONE JUST SHUT UP!!!

(Everyone stops talking and stares at Hajime, who’s trembling and has his face in his hands.)

JUNKO: Daaaaaaamn, rookie’s kinda bold to be screaming at us like that, huh?

MAKOTO: Junko… you’re not helping. He’s obviously overwhelmed and you’re just teasing him.

JUNKO: C’mon, I’m nowhere near him! Hahah!

(Makoto sighs, sitting down next to Hajime on the floor. The rest of the students talk amongst themselves.)

MAKOTO: ...I’m sorry. I know you didn’t ask to be here, but… for what it’s worth, I’m glad that you’re still alive somehow.

HAJIME: …

MAKOTO: You know… when Mukuro found you unconscious in that class, we all thought you were one of Nagitos’ friends. You seemed too peaceful in your sleep to have been running from anybody, or hiding from anything.

HAJIME: ...then why did you help me?

KYOKO: We thought we could get some information about the outside world. But apparently, you're just as lost as the rest of us.

MAKOTO: A-and because we didn’t want to leave anything to chance. Even if you were one of his people, we didn’t want you to just be out there. I’m glad that you weren’t, though… it feels nice to meet someone new again.

(Hajime lifts his face from his hands, palms and face covered in tears. He looks at Makoto with a faint smile.)

HAJIME: Yeah… feels nice.

☘️ TO BE CONTINUED☘️

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soapsilly · 4 years ago

Text

Not him - Tom Holland x Reader

Pairings: Tom Holland x reader; (slight Post Malone x reader)

Summary: (Y/N) and Tom got together on the set of Spider-Man. But the relationship doesn’t work out the way both of them had hoped for. What happens when (Y/N) gets over Tom faster than he would like? How will they act when they first see each other again in person on set for the new movie when neither of them can let go of their resentment?

Requests are open!

I guess, you could label this as Angst? Eventhough I don’t think it’s that angsty. I’m also terrible at writing summaries. Also, for the new love interest I chose Post Malone, because I needed a celebrity in the same age range as the main characters and also I’m kinda obsessed with him at the moment, so sorry if he’s not everyone’s type. However, this isn’t about him, so sorry if I didn’t exactly nail his personality.

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

“Are you being serious?”, (Y/N) questioned her boyfriend. She couldn’t believe what she just heard.

“Here we go again”, Tom said rolling his eyes, “yes, I am serious”

(Y/N) chose to ignore that little dig at her but instead continued, “So, you’re seriously planning to move her in?”

“What am I supposed to do? Do you expect me to put her on the streets?”

“I expect you to at least talk to me about it!”

“I have known her for ages. There was no point in discussing it. She nedded a place to stay and I offered. End of story. She’s one of my closest childhood friends! Can we please not fight about this? Please? You’re leaving to shoot soon. You won’t even notice she’s here.”

"I don’t want to fight with you, love. But she’s a childhood friend that you told me you were in love with for the longest time! That I’m leaving makes it worse actually. Besides, you already spend the majority of your time with her. Do you really have to move her in now, too?”

It was true, Melanie was one of Tom’s oldest friends back in London. They grew up in the same neighbourhood and shared the same friend group. And he was crushing on her hard when he was younger.

“So you conveniently ignore that I hang out with all my old friends?”, Tom was getting more and more annoyed now. What was her problem?

“You can’t seriously expect me to spend all my time with you! I’m gone for so long at a time. Let me just spend some time with my people!”, Tom grew frustrated now.

“Your people... You spend all your free time with your people! And I’m at home going to bed alone almost every night. Why did you even ask me to come stay with you here, when you just leave me all the time?”, she was close to tears now. She felt lonely.

“I’m beginning to ask myself the same question. What has gotten into me?”

(Y/N) was quiet for a moment. That stung. The world knew Tom as that silly goofball, which he was - most of the time at least. But he could also be a proper bastard if he wanted to.

The girl took a deep breath.

“Listen, I understand that you want to help your friend but I just wished for you to talk to me first before you made that decision”, she continued much calmer now.

But Tom was having none of it. He was fired up now and annoyed by his girlfriend’s constant nagging.

“(Y/N)! How am I supposed to talk to you when you get so overly emotional all the time? You’re so fucking sensitive!”

“So you don’t talk to me at all? What kinda logic is that? Tom look at us. We’re fighting. Again. I can’t remember the last time we had a nice evening together. I can’t remember the last time we slept with each other...”

“You’re being dramatic. It hasn’t been that long”

“It has, too!”

“What do you want me to do? You’re smothering me! Of course I’d rather spend time with Mel. She’s not nagging me all the damn time!”

This was the first time he admitted to it.

Both of them stood still, facing each other.

“(Y/N)-”, Tom started but (Y/N) just held up her hand, effectively silencing him.

“Tom. Have you cheated on me with Melanie?”

“What? Of course not! (Y/N) I love you. Nobody else. I wouldn’t do that to you”, he tried to reassure her. Suddenly he felt bad for what he said.

“Have you thought about it? Even for just a second?”

“(Y/N), please...”, he pleaded with her.

“I’m leaving”

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

It’s been a few months since (Y/N) left Tom. He still felt bad for how their last fight ended and he was sure that if he hadn’t gotten so fired up, she’d still be there with him.

Tom asked her to stay, pleaded even, when she was picking up her stuff from all over his apartment. But after the logistics of separating where figured out neither of them talked to the other. (Y/N) made it clear to him, that she wasn’t interested in talking anymore. It was hard for him to accept and move on. He’d struggle to keep his mind off of his ex-lover. There were so many things that reminded him of her - so many things that he didn’t even realize before. The smell of coffee for example.

Eventhough, it was hard for Tom, his friends kept his mind occupied for long enough to relax a little and have some fun. None of them knew about the reason for their split. He told everybody it just didn’t work out between them. Only Harrison and his brothers knew the real reason of what happened. Only they saw him struggle.

The shooting for the next Spider-Man movie would start soon, so he’d be scheduled to give some interviews. All the tabloids were of course hoping Tom would give out secret details about the movie; that they’d be the first ones to report.

“Mornin’ Mate, how’re things today?” Harrison asked his friend, when they first arrived at the car that would get them to the interview place his management had organized.

“Actually, things are great, Haz! I think today is going to be good”, Tom answered truthfully. He was looking forward to today. There was no trace of any struggle on his face. No thoughts were spent on (Y/N) since Tom woke up this morning.

Harrison was glad. He wished for his best friend to move on and be happy again.

Tom was sitting in an empty room, lost in his thoughts after several hours of interviews, when a women in a grey blazer entered the room.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Holland”, she greeted him.

Tom was pulled back to reality.

“Good afternoon, pleasure to meet you. You can call me Tom by the way”, he greeted back.

The women continued to set up the interview. What followed were several different variations of the same questions he had already answered throughout the day.

While Tom enjoyed talking about his new movies, getting the same questions over and over again was getting a little boring. However, he had managed to not spoil a single thing about the movie, which he was immensely relieved about.

“So, the character of Felicia Hardy or maybe better known as Black Cat was introduced to the Spider-Man universe in the last movie. (F/N) (L/N) did an amazing job portraying her and the audience loved the new character”

Here we go again.

Tom already knew this was coming. Every interviewer so far asked about (Y/N) and him. But he was prepared.

“Yes, (Y/N) really is an amazing actress. I’m happy I was given the chance to work with her”

“So, you and Miss (L/N) started dating on set of the last movie but a few months ago you announced your split on social media. Last movie’s post credit scene suggested she’d be part of the new movie aswell. What do you expect returning on set, considering the current circumstances ?”, the woman continued.

Tom took a deep breath. He’s done this before.

“The split was amicable. When we realized the relationship wouldn’t work out, we mutually decided we’re better off as friends”

Lie.

“So you two are still in contact?”

“Yes, of course. We are both busy with our schedules but we both keep in contact regularly”

Lie.

“That’s amazing. So there won’t be any hard feelings on set”, she concluded.

“No, of course not. I’m really looking forward to seeing her again in person”

Somewhat the truth.

“You are one of the hottest singles on he market right now. We are dying to know: Is there anybody that has caught your eye yet? Seeing as lately (Y/N) has been seen getting cozy with rapper Post Malone..”

WTF??

Tom tried to not show his reaction to the newly found information. He awkwardly denied having his eye on anyone at the moment and they wrapped up the interview.

Tom was grateful that that was the last interview of the day. As soon as the lady left, he stormed over to Harrison, who was just as shocked as he was. He was already on his phone searching for evidence for the lady’s claims.

“Is it true?”, Tom asked his friend.

“Seems like it...”, Harrison showed the actor his phone. A picture of (Y/N) and Post Malone outside of a restaurant, holding hands lit up his phone screen.

Tom grabbed the phone and swiped further and further. There were a few more pictures of them together. Holding hands, snuggling - even one picture that showed them kissing.

For a second he felt a myriad of emotions cascading down upon him.

Shame. Anger. Sadness.

On one hand he felt embarrassed that he was mourning after their relationship while she was already out in the field dating around. On the other hand he felt angry. Did their relationship mean nothing to her? Was he not important to her?

And on a whole other hand he felt sad. He didn’t know what he expected but maybe there was still a little hope within him that they could get together again once the shooting would start.

But at the same time there was doubt lurking in the back of his mind. He always knew there was a discrepancy between him and her. While he was always more goofy and childlike, she was more grunge and edgy. Of course, it didn’t help that she was constantly fangirling over the musician.

“I love a man with a clear aesthetic” is what she used to say. And who had a clearer aesthetic than Post Malone? Next to him he felt like a slice of untoasted white bread.

“Tom?”, Harrison saw his friend spiraling.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”, Tom exclaimed.

Lashing out on the ones he loved seemed to be a recurring theme with him lately.

Harrison pulled up his his hands in surrender.

“Calm down, mate. I didn’t know either”

Tom left to wait in the car. He was awfully quiet for the remainder of the day.

So much for today being good...

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

It’s been a few weeks since Tom started shooting. As the main actor he had to be on set before anybody else did. (Y/N) arrived a few weeks later, Black Cat was not yet one of the main characters, so there was no need for (Y/N) to be there from the beginning.

Tom didn’t sleep well the night before (Y/N) was supposed to arrive. He has neither seen her nor talked to her since she left his apartment all those months ago. He was worried as to how to interact with her.

When Tom finally arrived on set, she was already there, chatting with Zendaya. The two of them hit it off immediately when they first met during the first movie.

When Zendaya saw Tom she grew quiet. Of course, she knew about their split but she didn’t know how he would react to seeing her for the first time after it. And she would’ve much preferred to not be present during their first meeting.

(Y/N) stopped mid-sentence and followed Zendaya’s gaze meeting Tom’s eyes, who was standing like a deer in the headlights. Eyes wide and his mouth slightly agape.

“Excuse me for a moment”, (Y/N) told her friend and made her way over to her ex-lover.

“Hello, Tom”

“Hey..”, Tom was unsure what to say.

“How’re ya? Everything good?”

She always did this. Asked how somebody was and already suggested the answer to go with.

“Yeah I’m good. And you? How’re you?”, he asked her back eventhough he already know what she was gonna answer. He just knew her like that.

“You know.. It is what it is”, she shrugged, but sent him a wink after that.

They chatted for a few more minutes about how excited she was to start shooting again, but never about anything deeper.

He didn’t ask her about her new relationship. She didn’t ask him about Melanie.

Then they parted again.

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

“You again?”, Peter in his Spider-Man suit swung onto the roof, where Felicia was tinkering around.

“Hello, Spider”, the Black Cat greeted him without looking up.

“You know? I’m actually kind of on a date right now, so maybe we could settle this quick and easy?”, Peter suggested, knowing that Michelle was waiting just at the other side of the street. When Karen notified him of an attempted break-in, he made up a quick excuse and left her standing.

The girl straightened up and started to circle Peter slowly.

“Is that your girl down there? She’s cute. I wouldn’t let her wait if I were you”, she pointed towards where Michelle was standing, looking around for Peter.

Peter furrowed his brows underneath his mask.

“Nice suit by the way”, she commented further. She only wore some black combat boots, a pair of pants, a crop top and a tighter top underneath. All black of course. The only thing that would ever even suggest she wasn’t just an ordinary girl were the black mask she was wearing and the devices on both of her wrists, that her claws and other similar gadgets were attached to.

“I, myself, prefer to not stand out as much. Not really a look you want to achieve... as a master thief, you know?”, she continued.

“You know? Someone once told me there’s usually not this much talking in a fight”, Peter told Felicia.

“Oh but we’re not fighting, silly”, she chuckled lowly. Something about her made Peter suspicious. What was she doing?

“Well, whatever it is what we are doing. I’m stopping you!”, Peter puffed his chest up.

“There’s no need, Spider. I already got what I want”, she showed him a stunning diamond collier dangling between her fingers, “do you think this suits me?”

She held the necklace up to her cleavage, batting her eyelashes.

Peter de-puffed his chest. He seriously began to ask himself what they were even doing.

“Listen, I can get you back to your dimension. Just give me the necklace and come with me, Felicia. I can get you back home”, Peter tried to reason with her.

The Black Cat began walking again but stopped right behind him.

“Oh but why? I like it here. How are we going to have our little rendezvous when I’m gone, Peter”, she leaned in behind him and all but whispered his name in his ear.

For a while he was silence.

“CUT!”, the director yelled, “Tom, you missed your line”.

“Everything okay?”, (Y/N) whispered.

But Tom was kinda shaken up. The Black Cat was less sexualized as she’d be in the comics. They were supposedd to be teenagers after all. But this was (Y/N). His (Y/N). He was okay acting with her but when she was so close to him that he could feel her breath tickling his ear, he froze up. His mind drew a blank and all he could do was stand there and wish that the ground would open up and swallow him whole.

“Five minute break, everybody”, the director announced.

As everybody scattered around, (Y/N) made her way over to her ex-lover.

“Hey.. Tom, are you okay?”

“Yes, of course I’m okay!”, Tom was exasperated, “Everybody misses their line once in a while! Why is this such a big deal?”. Tom pulled his maks off.

“Okay, chill! I was just trying to make sure you’re okay. You looked shaken up. No need for you to lash out at me”, (Y/N) bit back and turned around to leave.

“Wait!”, Tom rubbed his hands over his face, “I’m sorry. I’m just a little frustrated but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you”.

(Y/N) furrowed her brows but nodded quickly after. She was never one to hold grudges.

“I care about you, Tom”

For a moment they just stood there before (Y/N) clapped her hands.

“So, let’s get our shit together and kill this scene”

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

After weeks of working together this all felt like the first time all over again. Jacob would often joke that the “gang was back together” and at times it really felt like that.

“Do you remember when Tessa literally shredded your briefs?”, (Y/N) was wheezing at that point, tears rolling down her face, smudging her mascara.

“Yes and those were literally my last clean pair. Do you remember? I just came back from the press tour”, Tom continued.

All of them burst out laughing. It was their first free evening in a while and the group decided to spend it together with a few drinks and lots of food. Both Zendaya and Jacob feared that it might be awkward having Tom and (Y/N) there together but there was no trace of any bitterness or any other kind of hard feelings. They just felt like friends hanging out together.

“Wait, this reminds me... You left your mermaid blanket at my place”

“Hm, I’ll come get it next time I’m in London”

“I mean you’re of course always welcome to swing by but I really doubt you’d want that blanket, love. Tessa kind of claimed it as hers. There is so much drool on it... you better just get a new one”, Tom told the girl, eventhough he liked the idea of her back in his apartment.

“Well, she can keep it”, (Y/N) chuckled. She did notice his use of the word ‘love’ but she didn’t mind. It felt organic coming from him, he was British after all.

After that the conversations shifted and the boys strarted their own little talks about video games and whatnot. (Y/N) and Zendaya just caught up further, talking about their projects, giving interviews and photoshoots.

It was at that moment that the music in the background changed to Circles by Post Malone.

“Soooo.. Post Malone, huh?”, Zendaya wiggled her eyebrows at her friend.

(Y/N) shrugged and smiled sheepishly.

“What can I say?”, (Y/N) really didn’t know.

“Maybe start with how you two met?”, Zendaya suggested, grinning. She was thirsty for some gossip.

At the mention of the new topic Tom perked up but tried to stay low-key.

“I mean we followed each other on social media for a while at this point but never talked or anything. However, me and him attended the same event a few months back. I guess, we recognized one another and started vibing. I asked him about that one shirt he was wearing in the ‘Go Flex’ music video and he made sure to dig it out of his closet and gave it to me. After that we just kept talking”, she tried to be nonchalant but it was apparent to the others that she was a little flustered.

“Awww, that’s so cute”, Zendaya reacted.

(Y/N) broke out grinning.

“You guys don’t realize how crazy talented he is. So fun to be around and creative, too. I’ve never met anybody that extravagant but at the same time so down to earth. Our first date was at an Olive Garden. Can you imagine? We freaking drove there in a Rolce Royce”, if this were anything other than real life, the girl would’ve had heart-eyes by now.

Tom had heard enough. He stood up abruptly.

“Anybody want another drink? I’ll get enother round”, he offered. He didn’t want to make a scene. He just needed to get away for a moment.

When he returned the topic of conversation had changed, which Tom was thankful for.

“Virgin Colada for you”, he handed (Y/N) her drink.

“And for the rest of us... The grown up drinks”, he teased (Y/N), who in return stuck her tongue out at him.

The evening was too nice to ruin it now with hurt feelings. She seemed happy and as long as he could just ignore Post Malone even existed in his sphere, he’d be alright.

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

It was a nice morning on set. Tom and (Y/N) already had an early scene that was set during sunrise, which meant they had to get up earlier than (Y/N) would’ve liked.

They were given a short break but catching up on sleep would mean getting out of their costumes and messing up their hair and make up. So, not an option really.

“I don’t operate well when I’m tired”, (Y/N) whined as she and an Tom returned to where the trailers were standing.

“M’lady, may I invite you for a cup of coffee? It might lift your spirits”, Tom bowed down but looked up at the girl with a cheeky grin.

“You realize the coffee is free, right?”, (Y/N) deadpanned.

Tom shrugged and both burst out laughing, bickering on their way to the catering.

The others were already there, when they arrived. But they were not just on their own. Next to Zendaya stood a young man and a women, that seemed to be a little older than them.

“Morning, guys, how did your scene go?”, Jacob greeted the new arrivals.

“It’s been good. Too early though.. I mean if you ask me at least”, (Y/N) answered.

“How are you?”, Tom asked.

“Everything good?”, (Y/N) added.

“Can’t complain”, Zendaya answered, “let me introduce you to my family. This is my mom, Claire. And this is my brother, Austin”

Zendaya was grinning from ear to ear.

They were around the halfway point of shooting, which was usually when people liked their friends and family to come around and visit them.

(Y/N) mimicked her friend’s smile and greeted the visitors. It was nice meeting the family behind the actors and creators.

While Tom was greeting Zendaya’s family, (Y/N) turned towards her with her eyebrows raised.

“Girl, your brother is mighty fine”, she not so subtly murmured.

“It must be nice to have your family here”, Tom turned to Zendaya.

“Yes, of course. I’ve missed them so much”, she squeezed her mothers hand, “do you have any visits arranged?”

“Uh, no. Not yet. But I do have a little while to go still”, he answered.

“(Y/N), you must be excited for next week, right?”, Jacob asked the actress.

“Why? What happens next week?”, Tom was puzzled.

“Austin is visiting”, (Y/N) informed him.

The Brit raised his eyebrows.

“You’re kidding right?”, he was looking around, waiting for someone to tell him this was just an unfunny joke.

“No, why would I be?”, his ex-girlfriend inquired.

“Because this is low, (Y/N). Really low even”, Tom grunted, “I need to get out of here”.

With that he left the group standing and stormed away.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). I didn’t mean to stirr anything up”, Jacob scrambled for an apology. He didn’t mean to ruin the mood.

“No. Don’t feel sorry, Jacob. I’m tired of walking on eggshells around him. We are adults. I’ve moved on and he should too. Just give him a little time to calm down”, she assured him.

Then she turned towards the buffet had had her breakfast.

The following week was a little strange. (Y/N) felt bad for Tom but she was so done with making apologies.

The both of them still worked fine together but other than that they were a little distanced. They still talked and they still hung out as a group but whatever progress the two of them have made so far was out of the window. The tension, however, did help their fighting scenes together.

(Y/N) was sad about losing Tom as a friend but she also realized she couldn’t expect them to still be friends after she broke up with him. Being civil was enough for her - at least for the moment.

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

(Y/N) was giddy on the morning Austin was suppsoed to arrive. She really did miss him and with the Tom situation going on, she felt especially estranged from everything.

The musician arrived just as (Y/N) had finished her final scene for the day. She was still in costume but that didn’t stop her from sprinting over to her new boyfriend and clinging onto him.

“Austin!”, she squealed.

He engulfed her in a hug, swallowing her body completely.

“I missed you”, he whispered into her neck.

“Ahem...”

(Y/N) heard someone clear their throat from behind her. When she turned around, she saw Zendaya, Jacob and Tom waiting impatiently. In Tom’s case, however, he just looked more annoyed at the public display of affection.

“Don’t you want to introduce us?”, Zendaya suggested. She, too, was excited to meet Post Malone, who was one of the most successful musicians at the moment.

“Yes, of course. Austin, those are Zendaya, Jacob and Tom. Guys, this is Austin”, she introduced everybody.

“Dude, it’s so dope to meet all y’all. Being on set of Spider-Man is so surreal”, Posty beamed. He was never one to be shy around new people.

“Hey, can I leave you here for a second? How about I go change and then we go have dinner?”, (Y/N) suggested.

“Fine by me”, her boyfriend shrugged and (Y/N) left them to go change.

When she returned they were still stood there talking about god knows what. Tom looked a little displeased but other than that there was no indicator for anything other than a friendly conversation.

Austin put his arm her shoulder when she reached them but didn’t stop his conversation until Zendaya ended her sentence.

“All good? We ready to leave?”, he turned towards her and pressed a kiss on the crown of her head, as he was way taller than the girl.

Tom pulled a face when he did that, but tried to get it together before anybody could notice.

“So, are you guys joining us?”, Austin asked the group.

“Can’t unfortunately”, Jacob answered for them.

“Still got some scenes that need to be shot today”, Tom added. This was probably the first time he was thankful for his busy schedule. He didn’t think he could stand seeing them together. Especially seeing how affectionate they were with each other. There was no use in denying it anymore. He was jealous. And why was that? Because he was still in love with (F/N) (L/N).

“Aww that’s too bad, man. But next time for sure, ye?”, the rapper answered before they all said their goodbyes and parted.

At night after dinner (Y/N) and Austin were lying in bed talking about everything that they have missed out on the other’s everyday lives. Music, shooting, friends and family...

“So, how have you been? You told me you’re worried it’d be weird interacting with your ex again but he seems pretty nice to me”, Post asked the girl.

She was tracing his exposed tattoos with her finger, something he really enjoyed. Austin wasn’t always the most confident in his looks but that didn’t matter to her.

“He is”, she finally answered, “he’s a great guy. Usually very sweet and caring.. I think maybe him and me could be friends again..”

“Wow. Seems like you miss him. Should I be worried?”, he looked down at her.

She was still concentrated on his tattoos on his chest, when he said that but looked up at him to answer.

“No. Of course n-”, she started to deny but that was already enough for him to flip them over and pepper her with kisses and tickles, making her squeal and flail around, trying to escape his grasp.

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

It’s been a few days since (Y/N)’s new boyfriend arrived and Tom hated to admit it, but Austin Post was actually a decent guy, that he would probably even like if it wasn’t for him being with his ex-girlfriend, that he was very much still in love with. Austin’s likeability made Tom dislike him even more though. It would be so much easier if he were just an overall unpleasant bloke.

“So, Austin, how long are you staying?”, Zendaya asked him over breakfast.

“Uh just a couple more days”, he answered with his mouth still half full.

“Ah that’s nice. So you’ll still be here when Melanie arrives”, Tom spoke up.

(Y/N) almost broke her neck whipping her head around at the mention of that name.

She slammed down her cutlery, stood up and gestured for Tom to follow her, which he did.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”, she yelled once she was out of earshot.

“What’s wrong with me?”, Tom whipped around.

The girl was surprised by his outburst.

“Don’t you think it’s a little class-less to literally fly out your new guy?”, his tone turned condescending.

“Goddamnit, Tom! Are we still not over that? Everybody is flying their loved ones out, why shouldn’t I?”, (Y/N) was getting fired up now.

“I could ask you the same question, (Y/N). I’m merely having a good friend of mine visit me. What’s the difference?”

“The difference is, Tom, that you flew her out out of spite. You had no intention to have her visit you, before you found out that Austin was going to come visit. We are broke up. Do you expect me to stay single forever?”

“Well, you got over me awfully fast, didn’t you Sweetheart?”, he spat the last part, not even denying her accusation. (Y/N) couldn’t help but notice how handsome he looked with his hair unkempt from ruffling it in his frustration, but she chose to ignore those feelings bubbling up inside of her.

“Well, you made it awfully easy for me, Sweetheart!”, she mimicked him.

“And why is that? Because I helped a friend? Your jealousy ruined this relationship,(Y/N)!”, Tom didn’t mean what he said but he was too hurt to care at the moment.

“Yes, of course. I ruined this relationship. It wasn’t the fact that you literally moved in another girl?”, (Y/N) was being unfair now. She didn’t have a problem with Melanie at all. She never made a move at Tom or gave (Y/N) any other reason to disklike her. She was actually a really sweet girl. But (Y/N) was too hurt to care at the moment.

“You’re seriously worried about me having cheated on you? He is fucking rapper! What do you think he does when he’s on tour?”, Tom threw up his hands.

“Austin hasn’t given me any reason to doubt him. He’s been nothing but amazing to me. That’s more that I could say for you”, she dug at him.

To say that this didn’t hurt would’ve been a lie. Tom was taken aback for a moment before he just muttered a ‘fine’ and left her standing.

From then on it was radio silence between the two of them. (Y/N) was looking forward to the end of shooting. When she broke up with Tom, she didn’t anticipate this all to blow up in their faces like this. She didn’t want to create a hostile environment for anybody. She knew for a fact that Zendaya and Jacob felt uncomfortable with the current situation. They felt like the victims of a bad divorce. And even Tom seemed to be more down than she had seen him in a while.

(Y/N) greeted Melanie when she arrived but other than that she kept to herself. She dreaded the day Austin had to leave again because that would mean she’d be alone with Tom and Melanie.

Tom was happy to have Mel with him again. (Y/N) wasn’t the only one that was feeling bad about the whole situation. Instead of connecting with her again, he had just driven her away further.

However, neither of them could let go of their resentment. Both of them were desperate to get some kind of reaction out of the other.

“Here, Mel. You really gotta try these! They taste amazing”, Tom held his spoon out for Melanie to try the tasty dessert. Them sharing food wasn’t something out of the ordinary for them but usually Tom wouldn’t spoon-feed his friends. At this moment, though, he tried to be as animated as possible to make sure (Y/N) noticed.

And she did notice. It took a lot from her to not give him the reaction he was gunning for. Instead she made it a point to get really cozy with her new boyfriend to show her ex that she wasn’t bothered at all.

“Babe, not that I don’t enjoy making out with you but I know you’re doing this to get back at Tom”, Austin murmured in his lover ear after they parted their kiss. His husky voice was sending goosebumps down her spine - not least because she knew he was right.

“You should talk to him”

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

”Tom, can we talk?”, it took (Y/N) a great deal of convincing herself to make her way over to him.

Tom was surprised, he didn’t expect her to ever speak to him again but complied.

They made their way over to her trailer and sat down inside of it. Neither of them said a word. (Y/N) didn’t know why she was feeling so nervous. It’s just Tom.

Get yourself together, damnit. Deep breath and go...

“Tom.. I’m sorry”, she already had thought exactly of what what she was going to say but at the moment drew a complete blank.

“What for?”, Tom was being huffy.

“Everything. You are right. I shouldn’t have just flown Austin out. I should have at least talked to you beforehand. I really didn’t mean to hurt you...”

“Me neither”, Tom softened up.

For a moment they just sat in silence, but for the first time since they started shooting it wasn’t uncomfortable at all.

“I miss you, you know”, he looked up from his lap and into her eyes. She was about to answer, when he silenced her.

“I miss you so damn much and I hate seeing you with him. He seems like a great dude but (Y/N) be honest with me... Do you really love him?”

(Y/N) was taken aback. She did not expect that sort of question now.

“I.. I do”, she answered truthfully. Tom’s face fell. How could he be so stupid and still hope there’d be a future for them that’s anything but friendly.

“But it’s not the same... I love him. He’s amazing but he’s not you”

She felt so terrible for saying that. Austin has been nothing but loving to her and they haven’t fought once in all that time that they were together but being around Tom again showed her that there was something missing.

Tom perked up, he couldn’t believe his ears but when he properly registered her words a show stopping grin found it’s way on his face.

“That’s amazing. I mean not for him obviously but.. you know what I mean", Tom was excited. They could start over again and be better than they were before.

He noticed that (Y/N) didn’t share the same excitement as him.

“Love, are you okay? Are you not happy?”, Tom scooted closer to her.

“No, I am. It’s just, we can’t just pick up where we left off, Tom. We.. we.. Austin wasn’t the problem that broke us up to begin with. We can’t ignore everything that has been going on”, sounded desperate. It’s true though. Just because she didn’t feel the same way for her new boyfriend as she felt for Tom, didn’t mean all their other problems were gone.

Tom craddled her face in his hands.

“Darling, it’s going to be okay. Look at me. We won’t do the same mistakes again, okay?”, Tom leaned his forehead against hers. (Y/N) was always a rather anxious person that needed to be calmed down frequently, when she was freaking out.

She took a deep breath and relaxed into his touch. It was nice to feel his skin against hers again.

“You okay?”, Tom asked.

She nodded and a small smile found it’s way on her face.

At this moment Tom couldn’t resist anymore. It’s been too long that he had felt her lips against his but just as he was about to lean in she pulled back.

“What are you doing? Tom, I’m still in a relationship... It wouldn’t be fair to Austin if we’d started foolin aroung behind his back. Let me at least talk to him before we properly make-up”

Tom did feel a little disappointed but understood what she was saying.

“Not even a little peck?”, he tried but shut up when (Y/N) shot him a warning look. One could try...

Both of them exited her trailer. While (Y/N) made her way over to where Post was waiting, Tom joined Melanie and his co-stars again. Tom’s good mood didn’t go unnoticed though.

“What got you all smiles?”, Zendaya teased.

“I may or may not have made up with (Y/N)”, Tom bragged in a sing-song voice.

“Wait what? When did that happen? Not that I’m not happy for you but last time I saw her she was making out with Post Malone”, Zendaya was thrown off by the newly found information and while Tom explained the situation (Y/N) had to break the news to Austin.

She didn’t want to have this conversation but she was confident that she was naking the right decision.

“Hey, Babe. Did you two talk it out?”, Austin looked up from his phone when his girl approached him.

“Austin? Can we talk?”, it was the second time today that she would have to use that phrase. She couldn’t but to think how cliche she sounded.

“Oh oh. That doesn’t sound good”, his smile faded, “you’re not breaking up with me, are you?”

There was no need for her to answer his question because as soon as she teared up he got his answer.

“Nononono. Don’t cry, please”, he tried to soothe her which made her feel even worse. Why was he being so nice to her?

“What happened, (Y/N)?”

“We talked”

“I figured that much”

Ouch..

“Well, I apologized and so did he. We kinda made up”

“There is probably no use trying to convince you otherwise, huh?”, Austin had already admitted defeat.

“Probably not”

“I never stood a chance, did I? It’s always been him...”, he huffed out a laugh. He sounded disappointed but he was coping.

“That’s not true. I think you are one of the most remarkable people I’ve ever had the fortune of meeting but ...”

“But I’m not him”, Austin ended her sentence for her.

“I’m so sorry. I really do love you but being on set with him again just brought back all those feelings”

Both were just sitting there for a moment.

“But we’re still friends right?”, Austin broke the silence, looking at the girl across from him.

(Y/N) blinked for a few times.

“Of course”, she was so perplexed. She didn’t expect him to not be pissed at her. He chuckled when he saw how confused the girl was. He wasn’t mad at her. She had feelings for someone else. That’s something out of her control. He did however still want to have her in his life - even if it’d be just as friends.

“C’mere”, he held out his arms and engulfed her in a massive bear hug.

“I don’t understand. You’re not angry?”

“No, how could I? We’re cool”, he reassured her, “but I can’t promise I won’t write a song ot two about you”

“Well, I can’t blame you”

They both had a laugh about it but then the atmosphere became a little more serious again.

“I should go”, Austin broke the silence.

“You don’t have to”

“No front, but, (Y/N), I really don’t want to see you with Tom. At least not at the moment”, he explained to her.

(Y/N) just nodded. She didn’t want to make things worse for him. While he took the news like a pro, she could still see that he was hurt. He was not about to fight a battle he already knew he couldn’t win but it really wasn’t a good feeling to be left for someone else either.

The two of them hugged it out for a little while longer and then Austin made his way to leave the set back to his hotel room to pack his bags and fly home.

He stopped to say goodbye to the others. Eventhough he would rather not see Tom at the moment, just leaving without a word would be rude. Also, he was not about to leave with his tail between his legs. He was Post Malone after all.

When he approached the others their conversation died down and Tom’s bright smile disappeared completely. There was no way for him to know how the rapper would react. But the latter decided to not say anything at all.

Austin said his goodbyes and turned to leave but before he left, he told Tom something only they could hear.

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

Back in her hotel room, (Y/N) tried to relax after the long day she just had. The last time she was this exhausted was ages ago.

At the moment, she was getting ready to take a shower and go snuggle up in bed to get some sleep before she had to leave to shoot the next morning.

Just as she was about to hop under the warm, relaxing water, there was a knock on her door. (Y/N) didn’t expect anybody this late but she had an idea who it could be.

“Hello, Tom”, she greeted her lover.

“Can I come in? Or am I interrupting something?”, the actor looked the girl up and down. He couldn’t help but have his eyes linger a little as he couldn’t help but notice she was only dressed in a towel at the moment.

“I was just about to have a shower but you’re welcome to come in and wait”, she told him.

As he closed the door behind him she turned around and added, “or you could join me of course”

She made it sound like an option but that opportunity was too good for Tom to pass up.

Being underneath the water with him just felt right. He was a little taller than her so the water from his hair dripped down on her face as they were standing chest to chest. He leaned down and his lips met hers. She started smiling into the kiss nefore they parted.

“I missed this”, Tom’s voice was husky.

She did too. She wasn’t a fool, there was still a lot to work through but at this very moment everything just felt right. His body against hers felt right. His lips on hers felt right. Them together... felt so right.

“I love you, Tom”

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

Epilogue

Both of them were cuddled in bed dressed in the white, fluffy bathrobes the hotel provided, talking about anything and everything with the occasional kiss in between.

“It’s two o’clock already. We should really go to sleep if we want to be able to function tomorrow”, she reminded her boyfriend.

“At this point, I am tempted to pull an all-nighter, love”, he winked at her.

“An all-nighter doing what exactly?”, (Y/N) teased her man.

“You know? Before Post left he told me to be good to you and I think that’s exactly what I will be doing tonight”

“I really don’t think that’s what he meant, babe”, she laughed.

“Close enough for me”, he murmured as he leaned down to kiss her once again but most definitely not for the last time that night.

#tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #post malone imagine #post malone x reader #spiderman imagine

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let-the-dream-begin · 4 years ago

Text

In My Daughter’s Eyes Chapter 9: Affirmation

Chapter 8

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A friend of mine just made some incredible fanart for this story, and I am so in love with it! Please check it out for some adorableness!

November 25

Claire took a shaky breath, still gripping the steering wheel despite the fact that her car had been in park for about five minutes. She was parked in the Abernathy driveway, a store-bought apple pie (something she’d discovered that Americans eat on Thanksgiving) sitting in the passenger seat.

Thanksgiving had been this past Thursday, but both Claire and Joe had been working. Upon realizing that Claire had never celebrated Thanksgiving and had no intention of really doing so, he insisted that Claire come over on Sunday when he was off for her and Faith’s first Thanksgiving Dinner.

Claire had no idea why she felt so panicked; it was just Joe, after all. He had seen her at her absolute worst at the hospital, repeatedly. He knew the ins and outs of Faith’s condition because Faith seemed to be the only thing Claire could talk about other than actual hospital business. He had promised that his wife would be aware, that he would make his kids as well aware as possible. He’d texted her several times that he and Gail were so excited to have her, that their little Delia was dying to meet Faith.

Still, the devil on her shoulder was screaming that Faith wasn’t ready for this, that if she slowed the slightest bit of discomfort, Joe would never welcome them into his home again, and he’d look down on her as an incompetent parent for the rest of her life.

“Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was?”

Faith’s sensory overload had been triggered at an Oxford event, a full-blown meltdown had ensued, and they’d had to leave twenty minutes after arriving.

“She can’t help it, Frank. It was too much for her. I should have known that she couldn’t handle such a big crowd.”

“You’re right,” he snarled, roughly loosening his tie and throwing it on the dresser. “You should have known.”

Claire shook her head to clear her mind, repeating the familiar mantra:

Joe is not Frank. His family is not the Oxford faculty.

Taking advantage of a sudden boost of confidence before it disappeared, Claire got out of the car and unbuckled Faith. She got halfway up the driveway before she realized she left the pie on the passenger seat, then ran back to get it. She stood on the porch and crouched down to straighten Faith’s brown and green dress and flatten a few wild curls, then stood up and straightened her own sweater, pulling it further down over her jeans.

“Ready, baby?” Claire said. “We can do it, yes?”

Faith gave Claire a thumbs up, and that was all she needed to ring the doorbell.

“Lady Jane!” Joe exclaimed as he opened the door. “You look lovely, my friend.”

“Thanks, Joe.” Claire smiled warmly.

“And this little cutie must be Faith.” He crouched down, eye level with her, as Claire had mentioned made her least anxious when meeting strangers. “Hi there, sweetie. I’m Joe, your mom’s friend. It’s great to meet you.” Faith shyly pressed Horsie into her face. “I like your horse, Faith. I’m glad you brought him. There’s plenty of food to go around.”

Claire chuckled as Joe stood to full height once more. “She okay?”

“Yes, I think she’s fine.”

“Great, come on in. Let me take that pie.” As they crossed the threshold, a beautiful black woman swooped in from the end of the hall, her purple sweater making her eyes glimmer.

“Oh, look at you!” she exclaimed. “It is so good to finally put a face to the name.” She gave Claire her hand. “Gail.”

“Claire. And this is Faith.”

She hid behind Horsie again as Gail crouched down. “Hello, little lady. It’s great to meet you. Your dress is very pretty.”

“Say thank you, baby. You know the sign.” Claire crouched down next to Faith and signed thank you. “Miss Gail said your dress is pretty. Say thank you?” She signed again, and Faith copied the best she could with one hand clutching Horsie. “Good girl, Faith. Very good.”

“You’re welcome,” Gail said warmly. “What’s the sign?” Claire’s smile got even wider, showing Gail the sign, and she repeated it to Faith. “You’re welcome, Faith.”

Faith hid her smile in Horsie, but Claire could see it.

“She likes you,” Claire said, standing up along with Gail.

“Well I like her, too.” Gail winked down at Faith. “Here, give me your coats, come in, have a drink, relax.”

A loud shriek suddenly rang through the house, and Faith dropped Horsie to cover her ears.

“Easy, little man,” Claire heard Joe’s voice, followed by:

“Gotta be quiet, Lenny,” a little girl said. “Mama said.”

Claire picked up Horsie and Faith and rocked her. “It’s alright, darling. It was just a little baby. It’s okay.”

“I’m so sorry,” Gail said as they entered the living room. “I swear he doesn’t usually do that.”

“It’s okay, she’s fine,” Claire assured her, despite the fact that Faith’s hands were still glued to her ears.

Joe was standing by the fireplace holding a toddler, three-year-old Lenny, and standing next to him was an adorable little girl in a blue dress.

“Hi, Miss Beauchamp,” the girl said politely. “I’m Dee-Dee.”

“Well hello, there,” Claire said, smiling again. “Your Dad has told me all about you, Dee-Dee. Please, call me Claire.”

Delia looked skeptically to each parent, waiting for their approval to address her informally.

“Okay. Hi, Claire.”

“Faith, lovie,” Claire coaxed, whispering into her temple. “There’s a little girl who’d like to meet you. Can you please move your hands now? It isn’t loud anymore, I promise.” Faith looked down at Delia. “I’m going to put you down now, okay?” Claire slowly lowered Faith to the floor, and she didn’t object.

“Hi, Faith,” Delia said. “My Daddy told me you’re real special. Wanna play?” Faith stared back at her. “I brought lots of dollies from my room that you can play with. Wanna see?”

“Can you show her the dolls, Dee-Dee?” Claire said gently, taking Faith’s hand.

“Uh-huh, follow me.” She led them to the corner of the living room, where the girl had obviously created a little arrangement of all her favorite dolls, surrounding a little dollhouse. “See? They’re pretty.”

“They’re very pretty,” Claire agreed. “Here darling.” Claire picked up one of the dolls and handed it to Faith. “See? Dee-Dee is going to share her dolls.” Faith took the doll in the hand that wasn’t holding Horsie. “Can you be a good girl with Dee-Dee, Faith?” Claire held up her thumb, and Faith copied. “There you go. Good girl.”

“Don’t worry, Claire. Daddy told me we gotta play quiet games,” Delia said seriously. “All my dollies are quiet, and I’m really quiet, too.”

“That’s very good, sweetheart. Thank you so much.”

Delia nodded, then sat down on the floor. “C’mon, Faith. Sit down and play.”

Claire slowly backed away from them, waiting for Faith to start whining for her to come back. She breathed a sigh of relief when she made it to the couch without Faith protesting. Gail was already waiting with a drink, and a plate of appetizers had been put on the coffee table.

“She’s so sweet,” Claire said as she accepted the drink from Gail. “Very thoughtful and sensitive. And she’s only six?”

“Yeah, she’s a good one,” Gail said, sitting down next to her. “Not like that one.” She gestured to Lenny, who Joe had to scoop up again to prevent from launching himself at the girls. “Troublemaker.”

Claire chuckled. “Drives her crazy, I bet.”

“Sure does. Doesn’t help that she bosses him around.” Gail took a pig-in-a-blanket into her fingers.

“Big sisters do that,” Joe piped in, sitting in an armchair with Lenny in his lap.

“So, Claire, tell me all about jolly-old-England. I’ve never been out of the States,” Gail said eagerly, popping the mini hotdog into her mouth.

Claire chuckled and took a sip of her drink. “Well, what do you want to know?”

——

The afternoon progressed without a hitch; Joe and Gail were always careful to remove Lenny from the room if it seemed like he was about to be loud, and they took turns keeping him occupied so he didn’t bombard Faith. Claire was overwhelmed. Never before had anyone taken such measures to be sure that her daughter was comfortable. Back in England, if Claire had merely suggested that they bring awareness to Faith’s special needs to anybody who invited them over, Frank immediately shut it down. He had truly made her feel like she was crazy, like there was really no need for her to worry at all. And then when things inevitably went wrong, it was her fault for not having the foresight to leave her home.

Delia was especially a marvel. She must have been the calmest six year old Claire had ever met. She was so gentle with Faith, and spoke so calmly. She didn’t seem bothered at all that Faith didn’t answer when she talked to her; she seemed more than happy to take the lead on whatever game they were playing. She just chattered away to her, and Faith seemed quite content.

She’s never had a friend.

Claire almost cried into her turkey to think about it.

The meal was quite delicious, a wide assortment of things that Joe assured her were “Thanksgiving foods.” Faith refused to eat the turkey no matter what Claire tried so, in the end, to avoid a meltdown, Claire removed the poultry from her plate and gave her extra carrots instead. Faith’s favorite, by far, was the sweet potatoes with marshmallows, something that Claire had reflexively wrinkled her nose at. Joe, however, insisted she try it at least once, and she had been proven wrong immediately.

The Abernathy Thanksgiving tradition was a board game in between dinner and dessert, and Delia decided on Candy Land. Faith sat in Claire’s lap while she played, letting her pick the cards and move the piece where Claire told her to. Lenny had free range of the living room while Faith was otherwise occupied. Claire found herself dizzy with glee for the entire game, thoroughly enjoying Joe and Gail’s competitive banter, as well as Delia’s constant insistence that she would win.

But it was Faith’s joy that took the cake.

She wasn’t just comfortable, she was happy. She was enjoying herself. She was humming, and stimming, and bouncing in Claire’s lap. How many years had Claire been terrified to take her out of the house, and now here she was, happy as ever…?

Joe had nearly won the game, but he purposely kept making silly mistakes so that Delia would win. Winner, of course, had to clean up the game, while Gail and Joe set out dessert in the dining room. Claire blushed with embarrassment to see that the pie she’d brought was the only store-bought item on the table.

“I almost put it in my own container and pretended I made it myself,” she said jokingly.

Joe laughed. “Doesn’t matter where it came from, Lady Jane. What matters is that you brought it.”

Claire almost burst into tears again.

Dessert was just as delicious and fun as dinner. Evidently, Claire’s apple pie paired quite nicely with Gail’s homemade pumpkin and chocolate pie. Everyone made sure to have at least one piece of each, Joe going in for a second of each. By the end of the night, Claire’s stomach hurt from laughter, and her cheeks were sore from smiling. Faith fell asleep on Claire’s lap, face nuzzled into her breast, and Lenny was down for the night upstairs. Delia was more than content to sit at the table and listen to grown-up conversation, though she was quite close to falling asleep on her hands.

Claire had mentioned Faith’s therapy at the hospital, but Joe was eager to hear more, and Gail was excited to hear about it at all. She regaled the story of Faith’s first interaction with the horse, and the first time she got on the horse. She told them all about Jamie, how he had this magic touch that settled Faith immediately, how he went above and beyond to make Faith happy.

The more Claire went on, the more Joe was getting this look on his face that Claire couldn’t put a name to. Then, as she continued, she realized that the look appeared every time she mentioned Jamie…which was actually quite often. She said his name again, and Joe looked at her again, cocking an eyebrow. She opened her mouth to say something in response, something snarky, but she lost her nerve the longer she thought about it.

Which was strange, because she was never one to lose her nerve.

She quickly turned the conversation back on Joe, and before long, Mister Jamie and his blue eyes were out of sight and out of mind.

“You know,” Claire said, everyone coming down from laughter over an anecdote of a particularly spirited patient they’d had this week. “I’m really, really grateful that you had us today. Your home is beautiful, the food was great, and you’re all just…wonderful.”

“Please, Claire, it was our pleasure,” Gail said. “You’re great company. Ever since Joe’s family moved we’ve missed having people over for Thanksgiving. And Dee-Dee loved playing with Faith.”

Delia shook herself awake enough to nod in response.

“Faith liked playing with her too.” Claire rubbed her back. “She was really great with her. You’ve both done a lovely job with her.”

“Well thanks,” Joe said. “You’ve done a great job with yours, Lady Jane.”

Claire smiled and leaned her cheek on the top of Faith’s head.

“Speaking of…” Gail said. “Looks like it’s past somebody’s bedtime.”

“Not tired, Mama.”

“Oh, yes you are. Come on, young lady.”

“I should get going, too,” Claire said reluctantly, standing up with Faith.

“Oh, are you sure?” Gail said. “You can put Faith down in the guest room and we can have some more drinks.”

“I appreciate that, truly. But I do have a six o’clock shift.”

“Ah, that’s right. Claire takes all the crappy shifts,” Joe said.

“Just so I can have weekends off,” Claire said. “I’d do anything they asked if it means I don’t have to work Saturday or Sunday, or Fridays past four for that matter.”

“Of course, of course,” Joe said.

“Well hold on, now, you’re not going anywhere without leftovers.” Gail shuffled into the kitchen. “Come on Dee, you wanna stay up, you’re gonna help Mama.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“It’s your food,” Claire objected, following her into the kitchen and shifting Faith’s weight around. “I don’t want to take it, please, we don’t need — ”

“Oh, stop being so damn polite.” Gail waved her off, shoveling potatoes into a Tupperware container. “No way we’d eat all this before it goes bad. This’ll feed you both for a week.”

Claire couldn’t help but smile. “I guess all those microwave dinners will have to sit in the freezer for another week.”

They all laughed at that.

Leftovers packed in containers and a paper bag, everyone shifted from the kitchen into the main hallway.

“Listen, Claire, let’s not wait for another holiday to do this again, alright?” Joe put a hand on the shoulder that Faith’s head was not laying on. “It was really great to have you. Both of you.”

Claire’s heart felt fit to burst, and she couldn’t stop the tears that rushed to her eyes.

“Thank you, Joe. Really. This means…a lot to us.”

“Us, too,” Gail said, Delia wrapped around her waist, half asleep.

“Goodnight, Lady Jane.”

“Goodnight Joe. Gail, Delia.”

“Goodnight, honey.”

Claire had to keep pausing in her buckling of Faith’s car seat to wipe tears from her eyes.

“I’m so proud of you,” she whispered, brushing frizzled little curls off of Faith’s forehead. “We’re doing it, lovie.”

This fresh start was truly the best thing that ever happened to them.

——

December 18

Claire was bouncing in her seat, almost exactly like she’d seen her daughter do countless times. She’d rearranged her entire schedule this week so that she could meet Gillian’s plane. She’d come straight here from work, with Faith still at home with Mrs. Lickett. As much as she’d love to have Faith greet her Auntie right away, she figured that would not be wise considering how things had gone the last time they were in an airport together.

She kept checking her phone, as if planes could actually adhere to their exact schedules. The plane was supposed to arrive in five minutes. Claire remembered quite vividly the day she’d said goodbye to Gillian back in Oxfordshire, the bone crushing hug and the tears they shed on each other. They hadn’t been apart more than a few days since the day they met, and no one else had been there for her as steadfastly when Frank left. That day, she wasn’t sure she could go on without her. Which was more than she could say for going on without her husband. She was quite sure she could do that.

So to see her in more or less five minutes after three months had her as giddy as Faith anticipating the opening notes to Frozen.

After an eternity of about fifteen minutes, the announcement that her flight landed sounded and Claire jumped out of her seat. Obviously it would be another ten minutes at least before the plane was lined up at the gate, but she just couldn't sit still anymore.

When people finally started pouring out of the bridge, and Claire caught sight of that strawberry-blonde head, she suddenly felt like a freshman in college again, waving like an idiot to get her attention across campus.

Her elfin face lit up immediately upon seeing her, and she shoved past about six people and started sprinting toward Claire. With a girlish squeal, the two women collided with a force that knocked the wind out of Claire.

“Oh my God!” Gillian exclaimed, squeezing the life out of Claire. “Jesus! Let me look at you!” She held Claire at arms length, and she squealed again. “My God, Claire, ye’ve gotten even hotter!”

Claire gave quite an unattractive guffaw and swatted her arm. “You look great too, Gi.”

Gillian promptly squealed again and pulled her in for another air-compressing hug.

After about five more minutes of fawning over one another, they proceeded arm-in-arm to baggage claim, then outside to Claire’s car.

“Hope ye didn’t pay too much fer parking,” Gillian said as she slung her suitcase into the trunk.

“Oh, you know, America,” Claire said, rolling her eyes. “It was robbery, of course.”

Gillian snorted before getting into the passenger seat. “It’s a lovely set o’ wheels. How long did it take ye to no’ drive on the wrong side o’ the road?”

Claire chuckled as she put the car in reverse to pull out of her spot. “Not as long as I thought. I do still have to consciously think about it.”

“I hope it isna too long to yer place, I’m starving. That shite on a platter they give ye on the plane just doesna cut it. No’ to mention I’m dying to see my wee niece.”

Claire beamed. “She is so excited to see you. I’ve been telling her every day for a week how many days until Auntie Gi. She was practically vibrating this morning when I told her today was the day.” They both shared a laugh at that. “And as for being hungry, I already placed a delivery order to arrive shortly after we get home.”

Gillian leaned her head back into the seat, sighing. “I could kiss ye.”

Claire scoffed affectionately, giving Gillian’s thigh a pat before turning her attention back to the road.

——

When they arrived at the apartment, Gillian was in awe at the sheer suburban-ness of the place. Together, they lugged the suitcase up the stairs, and Claire couldn't help but smile already before she even turned the lock.

As she’d expected, Faith was already right by the front door, having heard the car arrive, and promptly threw herself on Gillian’s legs.

“There she is!” Gillian cried, bending down to lift her and settle her on her hip. She gave an exaggerated grunt as she did. “Jesus, Faith, ye’ve gotten so big I can hardly lift ye anymore!”

Faith was squealing with giggles, stimming without restraint, humming loudly. She threw her arms around Gillian’s neck and squeezed tightly, causing everyone, including Mrs. Lickett, to laugh affectionately.

“Och, I missed ye so much, wee girl,” Gillian crooned as she stepped into the apartment, Claire following behind with the suitcase. “She really has gotten so big, how has it only been three months?”

“I know, I can’t believe how fast she’s growing.” Claire leaned against the couch, her heart full. “Oh, Gillian, this is Faith’s caretaker, Mrs. Lickett.” The older woman smiled warmly from the other side of the coffee table.

“Great to meet ye, I’ve heard so much,” Gillian said.

“So have I, about you,” Mrs. Lickett returned.

The woman gathered her things and left, Gillian coaxing the little girl in her arms to wave goodbye.

“Fifteen minutes until Italian food,” Claire sighed, plopping herself on the couch.

“Ah, New York Italian food,” Gillian said, sitting down beside her and putting Faith in her lap. “A delicacy.”

“Indeed. You were right about that.” Claire watched gleefully as Faith hummed and ran her fingers through Gillians straight, silky hair. It was quite a different texture from her mother’s untamable curls, so she was likely enjoying the sensation quite a bit.

Dinner arrived and was eaten with much celebration, including a bottle of wine that Claire had been saving for the occasion. Faith had vehemently insisted on being given some, which Claire had anticipated, and cleverly served her a little cup of grape juice. They clinked their glasses and cups together, making Faith smile wide as ever.

A comedy of manners ensued when they tried to get the air mattress blown up in the living room, especially with the obtrusive Christmas tree in the way. Several failed attempts later, it was blown up and fully made, just before Faith’s patience ran out in waiting for her movie. They sat cuddled under a blanket on the couch watching Beauty and the Beast, Faith laughing her head off at Gillian’s extremely poor attempts at singing along.

After Faith was in bed, Gillian and Claire spent hours cuddled under the blanket, passing the wine bottle back and forth, updating each other on anything and everything. They were up much later than Claire should have been, being that she had a shift at eight in the morning, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Sitting there, tipsy, with her best friend, whispering and giggling into the wee hours of the morning was the most uninhibited she’d felt in years.

#outlander #outlander fanfic #outlander au #outlander fanfiction #claire beauchamp #claire fraser #jamie fraser #faith fraser #frank randall #joe abernathy #gail abernathy

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fictionwordcounts · 3 years ago

Text

Sweet Things in Bitter Places [Luke x Reader]

Word Count: 3000+

Summary: Being a barista on the coldest planet in the galaxy isn’t exactly a glamorous job, but it does have it’s perks. The cute rebel who buys a cup of caf from you everyday is one of them.

Requested by @racheltheclumsy

As you waited for the caf beans to finish brewing in the caf distiller, you brushed your hair behind your ear and stifled a yawn. It had been a long day with very few of the rebels asking for anything at your small coffee stand. There had been rumors of a lifeform somewhere out in the swirling snow that had gotten everybody rushing this way and that to do their jobs. It left very little room for stopping to get even just a small cup of the bitter drink. You watched the distiller even though your customer was behind you waiting in silence. You tried to casually look around, but it seemed to make the waiting worse. Finally, after a good two minutes, you turned around to Wedge Antilles.

"What was out there today?" You asked him, genuinely curious. "I heard that they might have found something?"

Wedge, obviously relieved you had started talking, chuckled. "It was just snow and ice today," he reported. "That's all it ever is." He shook his head and smiled. "Sometimes I think the generals make that stuff up just to keep everybody on their toes."

You laughed and maintained a casual conversation until the caf was done. The distiller let out a beep indicating it was finished. You poured Wedge a glass of it and added sugar and cream until he said it was enough. He placed a few credits on the counter and grabbed the cup.

"No, Wedge." You told him. "You don't have to pay." You shoved the credits back to him. He always did this and it made you feel greedy when he insisted you take them. Credits, of course, were of no use on the secluded planet of Hoth, but they were held onto in hopes that going back to a normal life someday was possible.

You put the currency in the pocket of your apron when Wedge refused to keep them, and looked up as two tauntauns rode in the open hatch door across the base, their riders covered in snow. The riders hopped off the tall, furry animals and shook the snow off of themselves.

After a while, Wedge called to the pair. You recognized one of the riders as Luke Skywalker as he ran toward the friend who had called him. He sat down next to Wedge with a big smile on his face. The other rider you assumed to be Han Solo, the "scoundrel" everyone complained about. The friends chatted merrily as you cleaned up around the small stand you had stayed at all day. Your job seemed so unimportant, but all the rebels agreed it was good to have something warm to keep their energy up. Noticing Han waving you over, you put the cleaning supplies down and walked over to see what he wanted.

"How much for one of those?" he asked, gesturing to the coffee Wedge was drinking. You shrugged.

"Whatever you see fit."

Han looked at her with interest now. "Anything?" He questioned. "Even nothing?"

Laughing, you nodded.

"Well then I'll take one." With his final decision he nudged Luke. "She's giving drinks away for free, Luke. You want one?"

Luke nodded knowingly. "I know, Han. Haven't you ever ordered caf from here before?" He inquired.

Han scrunched his face. "Caf?" he said sourly. He turned to you as you started pouring the drink. "Nevermind."

Stopping quickly, you looked at Luke and rolled your eyes. He laughed softly and offered to take the drink instead.

"You're telling me you drink that stuff?" Han asked him, surprised.

With a spark of mischief behind his eyes, Wedge answered him.

"Are you kidding?" he snorted. "Luke comes by here every day and drinks twice as much as any of us." He elbowed Luke. "Because you don't come here for the drink, do you?" he teased.

Luke laughed, finding a new interest on the counter in front of him. He stumbled on words, trying to say something cohesive. It caused him to turn beet red with embarrassment. You turned back to cleaning. Blood was rising to your face and making your cheeks warm. Wedge was always joking about you and Luke "having a thing" (as he put it) for each other, and you both should've been used to it by now. Still, you couldn't help but feel butterflies flittering around in your stomach every time he brought it up, but you could easily cover your nerves with the thin veil of a shy smile.

It was true enough that you had begun looking forward to Luke coming to the caf stand every day. He always showed up with an upbeat and terribly contagious attitude, and it was a bright part of your day to laugh and joke with him until he left for whatever work he had been assigned. Often times, he'd tell you the burdens of his mind–whether they were trifling small or unbearably large. You didn't mind it when he did, and equally as often you found yourself able to talk to him about your own concerns. Perhaps it was your imagination, but you both always seemed more at ease when either of you revealed your troubles to the other. You willingly shared whatever burden the other had.

You were subconsciously aware of Han and Wedge walking away while laughing to each other. You poured yourself the last of the caf and sat down next to Luke.

"They'll never let that go," you joked. He nodded silently for a second then jerked his head up.

"Come with me next time," he suggested. With one look at your face he knew he needed to explain. "The next time I go out there to patrol come with me."

Could you really do that? You knew that only a few select people would be chosen for that job, and a small, quiet, coffee stand attendant wouldn't even be considered. You liked the idea though. The thought of trying something new from your general routine exhilarated you.

"I don't think I can," you reasoned, trying to suppress the sudden interest in the idea. He turned more towards you.

"Sure you can!" he said excitedly. "I know Leia. She's my friend, and I'm sure if I asked she would let you." You tried not to be as excited as he was, but as he smiled certainly, you couldn't help but feel that it was worth a try. He set his caf down and stood up. "Let's go find her," he said lending you his hand. You gladly accepted and Luke guided you through the rebel base to find Leia. You turned into a small tightly packed room with flashing buttons and screens in every direction.

"I haven't been here before," you admitted quietly to Luke, whose eyes were darting around the room. He continued walking.

"Most of the rebels haven't," he answered. "They're always busy with this or that, but they can come in when needed." He stopped abruptly and pointed.

"There she is!" He jogged up to the woman he pointed to in the little space he had with you close behind him. The princess was standing with a man who was examining a clipboard she was holding. She looked up when Luke approached.

"Luke, I'm glad you're here," she said, relieved. "I had Garven Dreis on patrol duty for tomorrow, but his sickness has only gotten worse and he can't do it." Leia turned back to the clipboard. "I can't find anyone to replace him. Do you know of anybody?" Luke looked hopefully at you.

"Actually, I do." He nudged you forward. You stuck your hand out but withdrew quickly. How was one supposed to act in front of the former princess of Alderaan?

"I'm Y/N," you said with a quick and awkward bow. It didn't feel right, but, thankfully, Leia said nothing of it.

"Have you been on patrol before?" she asked you. You shifted nervously, realizing this might not work after all.

"No, I haven't," you confessed. Luke stepped in.

"But she is good with the tauntauns and the scanners," he stated. "I'm sure she would be a great help."

Leia looked you both over then nodded. "If you think so, Luke. I trust you." She turned to you. "You can take the north markers tomorrow." With that, you and Luke left the room.

"I guess I have my work cut out for me tomorrow," you said, relieved that Luke's plan worked. He grinned.

"Yeah, but you'll want some sleep. Patrols start early." You said goodnight, to him and watched as he walked away. You didn't think you would get any sleep that night, but you would try so you could see him tomorrow.

________________________________________________________________

You waited by the closed hatch door on the north side of the base with your tauntaun next to you. You had been given warm clothing to replace your casual wear, but the coat you were wearing was so bulky it was hard to bend over. You hoped it wouldn't be a challenge to mount your tauntaun. Many of the rebels were up already and scattering about doing their jobs. You looked around eagerly for Luke, but you hadn't seen him yet. You figured he must be at a different door than you were now.

"Please stand clear of the doors!" An announcement came over the speakers indicating it was time for the doors to open. Even though they said this every time, you felt embarrassed as you backed away from the huge doors. You spun around quickly when you heard another tauntaun approaching. Tauntauns were not quiet animals with their constant, strange chatter to one another, but they were very sweet and useful. Luke steadied the animal and smiled down at you.

"Are you ready?" He raised his voice to be heard over the sound of the opening doors. In response you nodded and mounted your tauntaun with the difficulty you had hoped would leave you alone. You followed Luke to the side of the base where he stopped and turned around to you.

"We have to let the airspeeders go first," he explained as he smoothed his tauntaun's fur. "Are you excited?" You looked out into the freezing landscape the doors had hidden just few seconds before. You were excited, but the weather on Hoth was not the type you go out and have a good time in.

"I'm a little nervous," you answered.

He laughed. "I can't say I was my first time," he admitted. "I mean, I was pretty excited." He looked to the hanger door as the last of the airspeeders left. He turned back to you. "It's our turn now. Don't worry, you'll do great." He kicked his tauntaun lightly urging it to go forward. Yours bleated and followed right after without instruction.

As soon as you were outside, the cold wind whipped at you angrily. You had forgotten to pull your goggles down and the ice blowing into your eyes made it impossible to open them. You would have gone back inside, but Luke was already far ahead of you. You pulled the goggles down and lead your tauntaun farther through the swirling snow. Luke had stopped at the top of hill and waited for you to catch up.

"Is it always blowing like this?" you hollered over the wind.

"Sometimes in the mornings, but it'll clear up," he assured. He moved his tauntaun closer to you and showed you the map he had on the scanner. "You can go east to where the north and east markers meet up." He pointed in the direction you would be headed. "When you're done with that it should be clearer. Meet me north-west from there. I have something to show you." He smiled and headed off to where he would patrol, and you did the same.

After you found the east marker the weather cleared, making it easier to find your way around. You took the cloth from your mouth so you could breathe some of the fresh cold air and lifted your goggles so you could wipe them off. You looked down at the scanner you had been relying on to tell you what was out in the snow. There was nothing exciting about it, and you wondered why Luke had wanted you to come with him. You looked off in the direction Luke had wanted you to go next. Whatever was over there was the reason. You urged your tauntaun forward who seemed confused about going in the strange direction but obediently trotted on. Finally you spotted Luke standing at the entrance to a small cave.

"What's this?" You asked curiously as you approached. He smiled widely.

"Tie your tauntaun up here and follow me," he ran inside the cave without waiting for a response. You suspiciously tied the loud animal next to Luke's and ran after him. You collided with him which scared you more than it hurt you. "Sorry," he said after making sure you were alright. "You have to close your eyes."

"Luke, what's this about?" you questioned him.

"Come on, don't you trust me?" he asked. You stared at him skeptically for a little bit before you closed your eyes. "Just be careful. It's a little slippery," he grabbed your hand and led you down through the cave. His gloves were stiff from the ice that made its' home there, but he made sure you didn't fall once. He let go leaving you standing there with your eyes closed.

"You can open them," he said from seemingly farther away. You opened your eyes to a beautiful opened cave where ice hanged, glistening from the ceiling. There was soft snow that lay thinly over the thick ice floor and mounds of snow that almost made you want to lay down in them. Luke stood in the middle of the ice with his arms outstretched to show off the cave

"It's amazing," you said, awed. You took a closer look at the ceiling and found large hole that was letting the sun in and making the ice glow purple. "How did you find it?" you asked, hoping he hadn't found it by falling into it.

"I thought I saw something come this way once, but it was nothing and I saw the entrance." Despite the beauty of the cave, you were shivering with cold. You rubbed your frozen hands together and put the cloth back over your mouth. "I'm sorry, you must be freezing!" He jogged up to you and put his arm around you. "Let's get you back to the base." You stayed close to him as he led you out of the cave. Once you were back outside, you were greeting by the obnoxious noises of the tauntauns that were waiting for you.

"How many more markers are there?" You asked Luke.

"Don't worry about it," he said, turning you toward him. "I'll finish up the markers. You get back to Echo Base and warm up. Save some caf for me, OK?" He smiled and started walking toward his tauntaun. You held his hand firmly until he turned back around. "Is something wrong?" You looked into his blue eyes, wondering what to say to him. You stood on your toes with your heart pounding and kissed him on the cheek. Your face turned red standing out against the white snow around you. Luke walked backwards into his tauntaun still smiling despite the loud bleat it made.

"I'll be waiting." You said as you mounted your tauntaun.

"I'll be there." He murmured in response. Feeling warm suddenly you rode back to the rebel base and worked at the caf bar while you waited to see him again.

________________________________________________________________

You waited anxiously at the north doorway for Luke to come back. You had already closed up the bar and made an extra batch for you both to drink to help him warm up. The wind was starting to pick up again, making the snow blow in. At the sound of a tauntaun you strained to see the incoming rider. Han Solo entered the base and hopped off his animal swiftly. You couldn't help but feel a little disappointed.

"Where's Luke?" You asked him. Han turned to you, just realizing you were there.

"He went to check out a meteorite that crashed near here," He answered before walking off. Luke was always very inquisitive. It made sense that he would do that, and you felt stupid for worrying so much.

The rest of the day passed slowly and still there was no sign of Luke. You had wanted to ask Han if he had seen him at all, but he was in a bad mood and ignored most of your questions. You found Han standing with C-3PO next to the Millennium Falcon. Before you could reach him He had run off to talk with somebody else, but you knew Threepio wasn't one to keep secrets if he was told one.

"What's going on?" You questioned the droid. He turned around startled.

"Oh, it's just that, master Luke has gone missing," He responded. "Nobody knows where he is." Your stomach flipped. You knew something had been wrong, but you tricked yourself into thinking otherwise. A hand seemed to be squeezing your heart with no mercy. You looked over to where Han was stirring up commotion to see him ride off into the hungry snowstorm waiting outside. You spotted Wedge standing by the open hatch door and ran up to him.

"Where's Han going?" You asked breathlessly.

"He's gone to look for Luke," He responded without even glancing at you. You sat at the base of the Falcon, feeling too weak to stand. Everyone was on edge while waiting for Han and Luke to return. The later it got, the colder it was, and the need to close the hatch doors was growing. The decision was final and the whole base fell silent as the massive door shut slowly. You buried you head in your hands. Why hadn't you said it to him before? You were scared. Too scared to admit it to yourself. You loved Luke. The three small words that had scared you into denial were a powerful tool you had chosen to put away. Now you regretted that. I love him. You thought over and over until morning.

A gentle hand placed on your shoulder stirred you.

"Y/N," you heard Leia's voice and you woke up quickly. She smiled warmly at you. "Y/N, it's OK. They found Luke and Han." You sat up from the hunched position you had slept in. It took you a second, but you processed what she was saying.

"Are they alright?" You asked hurriedly.

"They're alive," she assured you. "Luke just barely made it, but he should be better soon." You stood up sorely with strong protest from your legs.

"He's here?" Leia nodded.

"He's in the recovery room. He asked for you," she said with a knowing look then stood up and walked away.

You walked into the recovery room to see Luke sitting on a small couch they had there. He turned around quickly.

"Luke." You said relieved. Luke stood up quickly.

"Y/N!" He hugged you tightly. Your heart raced happily.

"I thought you were dead." You whispered to him with tears in your eyes. You felt him shake his head.

"I'm alright." He responded. "Han found me and looked after me." You pulled away from him and reached down for the cup you had set on the table.

"I saved you some caf," you told him. He laughed and sat back on the couch. You sat next to him after putting the cup back on the table. "You can drink it when you tell me what happened." You bargained. He explained shortly about being abducted by a huge creature whos home had been the cave they had been admiring earlier. How he had escaped you still didn't understand, but you understood all too much about Han having to stuff Luke into his dead tauntaun's stomach.

After the story you sighed and rested your head on his shoulder. You were just glad to have him back. Luke had always been a good friend to you, but you noticed the more time you spent with him, the more you wanted him to be around. The want turned into need as he became the only happy thing in the messed up world around you. He was much more than a friend to you, and you hoped dearly he would feel the same. The fear that he wouldn't kept you away from the three words you wanted to say to him from the beginning.

"You scared me," you whispered to him. "Don't ever do that again." He held you close to him.

"I won't," he promised. You hesitated as you practiced the words in your mind.

"I love you," you voiced, shaking. He rubbed your shoulders to calm you.

"I love you, too, Y/N"

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lyn-rambles · 4 years ago

Text

Did you know? || Yaku Morisuke x Reader ||

Hello again my fellows

Ok so this one shot is part of the Haikyuu Headquarters server collab we all very happy to show our works, so please check out other works and give all the writers and artists a look uwu. If you want to see more of this type of content please use this.

I hope this time it gets posted because tumblr has been eating this thing ;-;

Pairing: Yaku x reader

Prompt: You woke me up at 3am for this?

Altern Universe: N/A

PoV: Second person

Warnings: None

Word count: 2.5 K

Yaku had a rough day, practice with the Japan National Team had exhausted him, he could barely walk to his shower to get off all the sweat from his body. He had been staying at the Japan's volleyball Association’s Dorms while he got arrangements done to stay in a more comfortable place. The cool water felt great against his sore body, they practically cleaned the gym floor that day doing drills and receives most of it. He was amazed to see that Hinata had gotten better at them and also was glad to see some old friends and known faces, he was also happy to see Kuroo again but he wasn’t going to tell him that out loud… He had a reputation to keep.

He closed the water and stepped out fresh, and feeling better, maybe not less tired but a bit more comfortable with his body. Yaku slipped on his pajamas and looked at his phone. The little LED had twinkled the whole afternoon, the color red immediately made him think that he must be out of battery and as he unlocked it he found your message. A smile grew in his lips. After his graduation you both had tried to keep contact. At the time you were still a second year but you got to be acquainted quickly. You had lived near each other, yet, you didn’t attend the same middle school it wasn’t like you an Yaku had talked too much, until you became a first year at Nekoma.

“I don’t know if you’ll see this before training but I wanted to show you this” and then showed a photo of the new samples you had prepared for your bio class. You worked as a teacher on a Junior High School, and had talked him about your plans on using plant samples to teach about the common tissues on them. He smiled at how proudly you had shown him the images from the microscope. He replied to you congratulating on the quality of them. He remembered how fascinating you found the world around and how happy you were on telling others about it. You had always rambled facts about animals, space, plants, the solar systems, name it you probably had a fun fact about it. It was that hunger for knowledge and the love of spreading it was what drawn him to you on first place. You were part of the science club. Professor Murakama, the bio teacher was in charge of your club, and Morisuke hadn’t talked with him outside from classes but Kuroo had insisted on him to help him getting some works they had delivered and he wanted a revision even though he almost got a perfect mark.

“Hello there!” he greeted them. He had lifted his safety glasses. And the small circle of students that surrounded him turned to them. Morisuke didn’t know most of the people there, since most of them were first years, but he waved at you. You returned it. Of course you knew Yaku, he had lived next to your house since forever but you had never actually been close. Kuroo got to the professor and he just stood awkwardly on the door frame as everyone returned to the working tables.

The professor muttered something to himself. As he checked on Kuroo’s worksheet. “Yaku, why don’t you join our experimentation while I go to the teacher’s lounge with Kuroo?” he asked him. “You can use my lab coat and safety glasses while you are at it.”

Morisuke put on the equipment as he reminded everyone to be mindful of the lab rules pasted on a cardboard on the wall behind Yaku. The students divided on partners and you sat on a work table alone.

“What is it (Y/LN)? Why aren’t you working with anybody?” Yaku asked as he sat down next to you.

“We are an odd number of students, so today is my turn to work alone.” He turned to see one of her classmates mouthing to her that he was sorry. “You are free if you only want to watch, since you don’t have rubber gloves.”

That day seemed so long ago, he had watched as she prepared the acidic solution in a beaker and added drops of phenolphthalein before adding a strong base and watched in awe how the liquid started to get a hot pink color.

“Wha- Whe- How?!” he had asked you.

Since then, it was history. He had sometimes went at lunch time to see how were you doing, being a first year was tough. And you sometimes met him at the cafeteria before getting back to your friends. Then he got your number and that’s when the rambling about random science facts became constant. He always had at least one image and a new fact, such as “Hey! Did you knew that elephants are the only species with 4 knees?” He always had a smile at that and he didn’t notice when he started to look at them with fondness until his teammates pointed it out. And then it happened, one day he just didn’t get the random fact of the day as you two had started to call it, by your second year, even he had started to send you those kind of things or whenever he found out about some new exhibit. His friend urged him to already ask you out as he clearly had signs of endorphin rush whenever they mentioned her or Talk saw her. Up to this day he never knew why he didn’t do it, even more when he got so concerned that you didn’t even saw his text, since you always answered quite fast. He walked outside of the VB team staff room and walked to the entrance alone. And he rose his gaze and you were there under a tree, with your head between your arms. He rushed at your side, without knowing what to do, he put his hand on your shoulder.

You shot your head up only to see his face. He looked as your face was tainted with tears.

“Hey, (Y/N),” his voice wavered. “What happened?”

You only cleaned your eyes with the corner pf ypur jumper. And used a napkin to clean your runny nose. “Nothing… I am fine, Morisuke.” You managed a constrained smile, he stood up and offered his hand.

“Come on, let me walk you home.” You took his hand.

That day you were supposed to tell your feelings to your crush. You had been harboring feelings for him since you met him on your first year and today, you (with Yaku’s help) had worked enough courage to tell him. You had crafted a love letter to cite him on your classroom and tell him there after school. He had also helped you (he almost did it all) to bake some small cookies to gift him.

There you stood with your crush in front of you, you had told him. You had done it, this is the moment where he accepts and-

“I like you, as a friend, your intelligence is quiet intimidating and I can’t see you as more than a friend because of it.”

Morisuke had heard your story, as you started to sob again. You were sitting on the sidewalk in front of your house as he took out a napkin and scooted near to you as you kept crying, his left arm grabbed you by the shoulder and he embraced you. Your violent breaths calmed and he let you go. His uniform now had moisted with what you called “nose tears” (“Morisuke! Did you knew that when you cry some of your tears go down on your nose and that’s why you have a runny nose every time you cry?”) but he could wash it later. Right now the only important thing was you.

“Morisuke, you are my friend, right?” He nodded. “is my-“

“No” he had answered right away.

“But you didn’t even let me finish” you pushed him with a playful manner.

“I knew what you where gonna ask and my answer is no.” He searched on the paper bag and handed you a chocolate filled bread. “I know your favorites are caramel ones, but right now you need something to raise your serotonin levels.” You took it and looked at him, you had sent him that fact when you had suggested to make the cookies. “Besides if he feels intimidated by something as petty as that, he doesn’t deserve a the time of day, he doesn’t deserve you.” He grumbled. You had stared at him wide eyed as his face started to get pink and bid you farewell as he slammed his house door. You smiled as you clenched the bread.

And then his graduation came. You had sneaked from cleaning duty thanks to your best friend (“Go get him, (Y/N)!”) He had also been encouraged by his friends this might be the last time he could tell you about his feelings. His family was throwing a small dinner and they had invited you since you had started to spend more and more time with Morisuke. His mom had made Stir-fried vegetables with other dishes. All his family gathered inside as you two talked on the same sidewalk, you both had been sharing some good old laughs.

You still held your stomach with your arms at Yakkun as he rubbed his leg after slapping it while he laughed. He had the sting of tears of laughing and of pain on leg, but he kept going. Until both of you had calmed and the small faint dread of bursting out laughing again came back.

“Ok, now in all seriousness, (Y/N)” he tried to regain his composure and you snorted at him as he bit his lip to suppress another laugh. “I have something to tell you- please breathe… slowly” His gaze was heavy with feigned disdain as he turned around to not laugh at your violent rapid breathing caused by another burst of laughs. You inhaled deeply trying to calm yourself.

“So?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “Have I told you the reason why I never accepted the two confessions I ever received?”

You gasped. You had been pestering him, one of your best friends into telling you but nothing had worked. “No! But please do tell me! I can’t believe it is finally happening!” you grinned at his question.

He breathed in slowly, as he started the word vomit, he saw your grin slowly disappear. As your eyes slowly went down. His heart his head started spinning. His face was becoming red, he wanted to turn back and get inside his home like that afternoon all those months ago. His whole being felt as if he had his guts stolen.

“And I didn’t worked up the courage up until now to tell you.” He sighed, for the first time, defeated. “I like you more than a friend, I-”

His eyes went wide when you hugged him by the neck and kept pressing pecks to his cheek. Then that hollowness became a party of elephants dancing on his gut. He finally turned to you, on your face shined the biggest smile you could manage.

“Yakkun, I was supposed to confess to you today, you stole my idea.” If he could have turned an even deeper shade of red he would have, he worked his hands up to your face and kissed your temple and smiled through his embarrassment.

Months passed by fast, as he had made the arrangements to move to Russia and play on the Super League. Lev had been helping him to make the contacts. You were currently on your third year, and whenever you could go home early you helped him studying Russian, you helped him craft flash cards and as you said the word in Japanese he answered always making a different grin. Much tp your laugh. You also helped him on his writing… you both sadly sucked at it. You tried to have non-study-dates-because-you-also-need-to-stop-worrying-about-me-and-school. Yakkun also helped whenever you found problem in a class… which wasn’t really often, but he was glad whenever you asked him for advice. Days after you got your college acceptance letter from college, he left Japan.

Yakkun had fallen asleep remembering the times you had stayed awake studying as he made you company over a video call or he had stayed awake after a particularly rough training just to have a “meal” with you.

His phone buzzed, once, twice, and the third time he picked it up. A pool of drool had formed under his face. He squinted his eyes at bright screen.

“(Y/N)?” he asked with a groan.

“Salutations, Mori!” over the speaker he heard the car engine.

“What is it?” He yawned as he stretched his arms and some of his joints cracked.

“I-” you hesitated before answering. “I found something really cool, I was wondering if you could join me.”

He rubbed his eyes, before turning to see his phone screen.

3:00 AM

He sighed with defeat. “Sure, just let me put a shirt on.”

You drived off, he took the copilot seat and dozed off yet again. You felt guilty of waking him in the middle of the night, but you had been waiting for this the whole week. Earlier you had called Kuroo just make sure the team had a free day before resuming their training. You side eyed him as how he curled on the seat breathing softly. The light of the city were getting behind as you approached your destination. The small lights of the highway and your car illuminated the way.

“Mori, we are here.” You gently shaked him. You were parked on a resting spot. In front it had a small hill covered with grass. The moon cleared the way. Mori had just woken up again and was getting out as you unloaded the trunk. You got some small snacks in a bag and a blanket.

“You woke me up at 3 AM… For this?” he was ired. And his expression showed clear dissatisfaction. “Listen, (Y/N) I know it is- Are you even listening?”

You had turned your face up and a teeth smile crept on your face. You lowered your face and moved your hand up so he could see. A meteor shower painted the sky as he looked up in awe and the it hit him, you had been mentioning this the whole week.

“You forgot, didn’t you?” He looked at you his face had softened as he approached you.

“I’m sorry (Y/N).” he murmured grabbing taking the bag. You turned your head side to side.

“You’ve been working to the bone lately.” You took a step nearer and cupped his face with your free hand. Your eyes locked with his soft gaze as he smiled fondly. His forehead rested on yours and then he pushed his lips to yours, your skin started to get goose bumps as you exhaled , you had been yearning for this.

“Did you know it was worth to get up at this time?”

#yaku morisuke #yaku x reader #yaku x y/n #yaku x you #hq yaku #haikyuu!!#hq #haikyuu!! imagines #haikyu x reader #hqhq server collab #hqhq #hqhq sfw server collab

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hecohansen31 · 4 years ago

Text

Not The Right Time

The Story Of How Everything Met The Family:

Ivar+Reader (Modern! AU)

(Masterlist) (Previous Chapter)

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

A few things before you start reading, SO PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU START READING THE CHAPTER!

This is a filler chapter again as the previous ones, mostly because this came out to have a lot more things to write than I originally thought and instead of writing a whole lot and leave it without a sense I prefered writing two parts (the next will be the angsty one!)

Pretty please, also: Tumblr has been penalizing me a lot, not making my tags work and not sharing my work, so please... if you do like the chapter and enjoy my writing consider sharing it and commenting it (please don’t simply share it, because I didn’t come here to be famous, I came here to gain feedback).

It takes a LOOOOT of courage to pubblish our own works, hence although you don’t see it, us writers go through A LOOT in our writing and such, dealing with insecurities and anxieties, most of the time not to have a gain from it, so please do consider supporting us through feedback.

Feedback makes my fingers write faster and my heart beat stronger!

With this being said, I do hope you’ll enjoy it!

Have a nice reading!

SUMMARY: Finally the Thanksgving Day has come and you have to endure a family lunch with your past lover, which might bring back more feelings and insecurities than you have ever thought.

WORDS: 12,6 K

WARNINGS: Pregnancy, Unexpected Pregnancy, Pregnancy at a Young Age, Mention of Abortion (and Being Harsh About it), Heartbreak and General Angst, Abandonement Issues and Being A Single Mom, Mention of Infertility, Use of the Word Cripple.

You set up the umpteenth outfit for the following morning, eventually choosing your more elegant pair of jeans, black and high-waisted, matched to a white sweater with a V-neck cleavage, elegant but not matronly.

Would it be enough to impress Aslaug, the ice queen?

You shook your head annoyed with yourself and with your overthinking.

From the start of this week you had told yourself that you wouldn’t have stressed yourself out for the Thanksgiving you had to pass at the Lothbrock house, although you had promised yourself to appear in your best shape.

And yet, the entire week you had done nothing more than set up things and ideas for it, getting your luggage ready on Tuesday, meanwhile you got Eric to be in his bed early tonight so that you could check it to make sure you had everything you needed.

It would have been one sole day, but you had still packed a small baggage mostly for Eric, with a few change of clothes (four, precisely) and a more elegant set of clothes, although Ivar had promised you it’d be extremely informal.

But you remembered perfectly that Aslaug’s idea of informal were elegant vintage dresses, giving her the look of a desperate housewife out of a ‘50s commercial, but with eyes of pure steel and a smirk that could petrify anybody on who it was set on.

When you weren’t busy being afraid of her judgement for your uncured clothes and dirty hair, when you were younger, you admired her dearly.

But you knew she didn’t like you very much.

She and Ivar always had a strong relationship and you were sure that one of the many reasons why she didn’t like you truly, as any girl that Ivar might have brought her home, was that you had stolen her smaller son for quite some time.

So, you shouldn’t have been worried, in the slightest, about it anymore.

Although you and Ivar had a child together, he undoubtedly had no intention of bringing you back home to him or of creating a relationship with you.

But you were still scared shitless of her judgement.

You were halfway through setting up another possible combination of clothes, when your phone thrilled awake under the pile of clothes on your bed, and you went to answer it, noticing it was Ivar.

You almost hoped he’d tell you that he was sorry but the entire Thanksgiving lunch had been postponed.

But you got another kind of ‘bad’ news:

‘… Freydis has had… an urgent appointment’ he explained, his voice clearly showing some kind of worry, but at the same time… it almost didn’t feel authentic.

His voice was mechanical, but you blamed it on the phone.

‘… she has started bleeding this afternoon. The doctor says it isn’t anything worrying, but he wants her to avoid travelling and to keep her relaxed during this time’.

You had your own experience of bleeding a bit during your own pregnancy, so you could understand the doctor’s worry and you hoped that she’d be fine, saying so to Ivar as you explained that it was totally fine.

And that it wouldn’t have been a problem for you to cancel your planed for Thanksgiving.

You’d just have to postpone the meeting with Aslaug to another day.

‘… actually, about that…’ the tip of his tongue seemed heavy, almost slurring his words ‘… I don’t want to… it won’t cange anything… Freydis won’t simply be with us’.

You were extremely surprised by that admission as you tried to understand, why would Ivar come with you to his mother, when his pregnant fiancée was troubled with her pregnancy.

Although you knew it wasn’t your place

And Ivar seemed to feel your question.

‘I have tried… to tell Freydis that I feel more comfortable staying, but she won’t… she says that I am a fretting animal whenever she is sick… so she told me that it’d be better for health if I visit my mom’ Ivar’s voice was calm, almost as if he thought that Freydis’ request was normal and he accepted it easily.

Which contrasted perfectly with the way you remembered Ivar.

Back when you had been nothing more than a couple of friends, Ivar was always worried whenever you got minimally sick, although he was extremely grumpy about it, since he could be quite difficult with his emotions.

Once you had needed a small daily check-up at the hospital, and Ivar had literally hounded your bed, although your mother had been right there with you, leaving you two alone, as soon as she had noticed Ivar and that he wouldn’t back it up.

So, it felt strange that Ivar, the big and tough alpha man he had been taught to be, didn’t even try to protest against Freydis’ choice, when she was much pregnant with his pup and when she was the love of his life.

… unless…

… unless she wasn’t truly the love of his life.

But this was your idiotic brain trying to ease the slight and irrational jealousy you had been feeling, which had started when you had met Freydis and your heart had started beating again for Ivar.

But you were aware that it wasn’t useful in the slightest.

It hadn’t worked the first time.

Why would it work this time?

‘… I know that I seem awful’ he read your mind ‘… but Freydis will have a friend coming over to check on her and I think that I’ll stay till lunch and then go back home, immediately. She’ll let me know if anything bad will happen’.

In the end Ivar’s tone seemed extremely honest and you didn’t feel like mingling in his own relationship’s issues, aware that although you shared a son, you certainly didn’t have any more right to share his life and to know his own private details.

‘I can come and pick you up, if you don’t want to travel alone’ you proposed, although you regretted the words the moment you voiced them, knowing that they broke the second rule you had given yourself that week.

‘Don’t come too close to Ivar’.

No matter what.

And not again.

‘… that’d be nice’ his own voice held surprise and for a moment you almost expected him to reject the idea, insisting on that awfully toxic idea that he was an independent man who needed nobody’s help.

But he surprised you.

‘… I would actually like it, if you aren’t bothered by driving. I can pay for gas’.

‘There is no need for it’ you muttered lightly ‘… you already paid the medical bill this week’.

Which had been great, since you had been able to arrive to another month without adding some further debt to your whole life, but at the same time, you couldn’t help but question yourself and your decision.

Had you been a good mother?

Could have Ivar given Eric more?

‘… well, we’ll see tomorrow’ he commented and you could already picture that small smirk he had on his face in that moment, sure that he’d win also this argument, but not without a fight ‘… in the meanwhile, I’ll go to sleep to wake up tomorrow at 7 a.m. and you can swing in here by 8… or I can come to you…’.

‘I’ll come to you’ you suggested since Ivar’s house was on the road for Aslaug’s house a two hour ride that you had studied alongside other details about how much you remembered of the house and whether it was proper or not to nominate Ragnar in front of the whole family.

Sigurd had helped with a few things, although he had told you he wouldn’t be there on, since he had better things to do, which meant he had small Thanksgiving gig in a bar in the city.

And free alcohol as a payment could be quite convincing.

After receiving all the news of that night, you also should have indulged yourself in a glass of wine.

But you wanted to wake up at a decent hour tomorrow.

With no hangover, again.

In the end you went to check on Eric, finding him effectively asleep, which surprised you since he could be reckless and wouldn’t go to sleep till all his energy was out of his body, and today he had been quite excited to meet his grandma.

He must have taken your suggestion about ‘going to sleep earlier, to make the morning come faster’ seriously, something that made you smirk a bit as you gently moved to collect his crutches left on the floor, gently caressing his dark hair, as you kissed his forehead.

In the end, although your heart was slowly breaking, it was all worth it.

Overthinking comprehended.

---

Ivar had been truly worried about leaving Freydis alone.

Although it seemed more something that he did to avoid others’ judgement than for his own worry.

Almost as if he knew he shouldn’t have left her, and deep down he felt bad about leaving her…

… but it wasn’t for the right motives.

It was guilt, not love, making him act like that.

And he was sure that that should tell him much about his relationship with Freydis.

Lately he had been questioning it, although he knew he was toying a dangerous line, even more when their wedding was so close, since Freydis had chosen to pull it closer since she would have soon been ‘heavy with his child’ and she didn’t want that to ruin the wedding.

He had suggested that they simply postponed to after her pregnancy, but Freydis had literally shot him a murderous glare and he hadn’t said much more than telling her that she wouldn’t have looked ugly even ‘heavy with his child’.

The entire expression had made him uneasy, not solely for the way she had expressed the pregnancy as a negative aspect.

Pregnancy could be difficult on women, since it changed their bodies.

But he was sure she’d look amazingly all full with his child, swollen up and gorgeous, glowing of the pregnancy brightness that would have made her solely pretty.

It had undoubtedly made you gorgeous, from the photos he had seen of your pregnancy.

And he was anxious of staying by her side for such a journey, as he hadn’t been able to do the same with you.

And also the way she pushed on the ‘his child’ part, almost as if she wanted to convince somebody and it had made him nervous, although he tried not to measure every word she had spoken, because it’d drive him mad.

Lately he had been feeling more and more like he had been picking out at every word from Freydis’ mouth.

And not for her own sake, but for his, something that was absolutely awful for an engaged couple and when Freydis’ scare had caught up to him that afternoon he had thought that although it might seem selfish, he needed some time away from her.

Simply to recharge himself and change the mentality he had been having, since he was bringing himself to insanity, judging Freydis in a way that on the long run would have been hurtful.

Even more when she had sacrificed so much to be with him, constantly showing him that she loved him, desperately.

And he thought he felt the same.

But he couldn’t deny that since you and Eric had come back, he had felt the flame of your relationship rekindle, and although at first he had thought it was simply the effect of seeing you again after all this year…

… now he seemed stuck in a limbo.

He had never truly closed the things with you.

Although he had pretended that day of not wanting you anymore, he hadn’t felt in the slightest what his words meant.

It was supposed to be just a stupid dare.

His brothers had been jealous of the close relationships that was forming between you and him, truly impressed by the fact that you two had had sex, and they had dared him, starting from Bjorn, to break up with you for a day.

‘… to see if she suffers, to see if you are… her true love…’ had joked his stepbrother, a lazy smirk on his face, and although Ivar shouldn’t have, at the time he considered his older brother cooler and although he wouldn’t have admitted it to his face, not then and not now…

… he did most of the time what he told him to.

Hvitserk had agreed on the plan, meanwhile both Ubbe and Sigurd had been skeptic, Ubbe eventually joining in, sure that it would have been ‘a fun joke’ and that you would have debunked it immediately, meanwhile Sigurd had just kept to himself, telling Ivar that he was ‘a fucking asshole’ for doing this to you.

And that he’d have suffered greatly for this idiocy.

And he had been right, for once.

After the ‘fake break up’ you had distanced yourself from him, pushing him away in a way that had made him almost self-conscious toward other relationships and when college had rolled around, with a broken heart he had moved away, hoping that the distance would have healed it.

But neither that nor time had brought some relief to him.

He had had his fair share of girls in college: he might have been a prick and a cripple, but money and status clearly brought all the girls to him, but it had never felt like with you.

And he had never felt truly attracted to them.

Something that on the long run had just made him lose his own virility and sex, unable to even simply get it up, no matter the fact that he thought that the girl in bed with him was hot as hell.

She might have been the prettiest woman in the world, but she wasn’t you.

Something that he had never told the sexual therapist he had been seeing for Freydis’ joy, because the doctor would have for sure told him to get back with you, if he wanted an healthy sexual life.

Which wouldn’t happen for sure.

Mostly because you had made it very clear that you would have preferred being thrown in a dumpster than sleep with him.

But he couldn’t deny the thought of not feeling truly comfortable with anybody else, other than him, having you the way he did long ago.

He was jealous of all the imaginary lovers you could have had.

But he justified as simple worry for Eric’s wellbeing.

But he was aware that you wouldn’t have done anything bad for him.

That was why the flame of the past burned bright in his chest.

He had seen you go from a beautiful girl to a gorgeous mother, a journey that echoed on your skin and although you weren’t comfortable in it, like Freydis, you didn’t hide it, showing Eric as your pride and glory.

And he felt the same towards the boy.

He was the sole thing good that he had done.

… alongside Freydis’ baby.

He laid a soft kiss on the slight bump at that thought, meanwhile Freydis gently turned to latch out on him half-awake and half-asleep, as she mumbled a small and chewy ‘… goodmorning’, and Ivar gently moved his nose up her figure, reaching her face, which he peppered in kisses.

It was more a mechanic gesture than a proper one.

But still Freydis didn’t seem to notice the difference, for which he was grateful.

He hoped that a few hours of freedom would make him realize what he had been missing and why Freydis was the one he was supposed to be with.

And not you.

“… I am going, if you think that you are feeling well enough” he mumbled, as he looked at the clock, a quarter past 8, her friend was supposed to be there in a few minutes and he wanted to check on who she was, but Freydis simply nodded her head almost eager to see him gone “… are you sure?”.

He seemed to be not the only that would have enjoyed his freedom.

“Yeah yeah, you overbearing bear” she muttered, almost annoyedly, hiding her face in the pillow, as her long hair spilled on her naked back “… just go, I wouldn’t want mama bear to be worried”.

He grimaced at the veiled insult that Freydis had muttered, but didn’t say anymore, instead gently caressed her hair away, checking her face and her temperature, both seeming healthy, although he was still a bit worried.

If not for Freydis fully, at least for the child she was carrying.

The doctor had assured them that it wasn’t anything wrong.

It was common to bleed through the pregnancy, mostly during stressful periods, which did match with Freydis’ current situation and her crazy wedding planning.

The doctor, himself, had suggested that she took it easy and maybe hired someone to help, and this plan had been explicitly encouraged by Ivar, but she had insisted on doing everything on her own, although she had reassured Ivar that she’d take it with much more calm.

“… isn’t your friend supposed to be here already?” he muttered softly, not wanting to leave her alone, but knowing that in a few minutes you’d be there, since your anxious personality always made you arrive a bit earlier.

Freydis shook lightly her head, and turned to him, again sleepy with her lids hazily closed as a hand came to her chest.

“… my mom is coming, just give her time!” she replied, stretching on the empty bed, but Ivar couldn’t help but hear intensified her words, surprised that Freydis had called her mother, truly, when she had said a ‘friend’.

“… your mom?” he asked, unsure if he had heard right “… I thought… you said a friend”.

Freydis bit her lip and Ivar immediately noticed the gesture, unable to feel like it was a gesture that his fiancée did whenever she was nervous.

And it was starting to happen more and more.

And he was starting to have his doubts.

“No no” she mumbled, slightly pushing herself to have her back against the plush headboard of their shared bed “… I must have been so tired that I mixed up the names… sorry… it is my mom”.

“I thought you didn’t like your family” he could feel the way she was starting to feel more and more nervous with his comment that hid questions, but at the same time she hadn’t been very talkative in the family department and he had just assumed she didn’t like them.

Again, that lip-biting and a little look at her phone, with shone with a number appearing on it, and under it the name ‘mom’.

… Gosh, he was low key losing it.

“I just… I just thought that I might want to be closer to them, at least for the baby” she explained softly, her voice thoughtful as she took a deep breath “… my mom wasn’t that bad, also, I just… grew distant after I went to college”.

Which made sense.

And maybe Ivar was becoming quite more suspicious for something that was completely harmless.

… he was just overthinking the entire situation.

Trying to find faults, when it wasn’t Freydis’ in the slightest.

“… still I’d like to know your mother” he knew better than to come between a child and a mother, but he would have preferred to know her before allowing her near his child, although Freydis trusted her “… invite her over for tonight, we’ll have a small dinner with together, to celebrate and to thank her for staying with you”.

He didn’t want to prod more and Freydis’ face rewarded him with a small smile as she brought him for a long, long goodbye kiss, that not even the notification of a message in his phone, probably from you, stopped her from ending.

He kissed her one last time, and then left her grabbing quickly his travel bag since he had a few things to bring to his mother, a few toys he had brought as a gift to Eric and even a small gift card for you, although he knew that there was no true occasion.

But he felt like it was a nice gesture.

He checked the message as he closed the door behind himself, realizing that it was indeed you, assuring that you were early and would be waiting for him outside, Eric having also stolen the phone from you to send him a photo of himself.

And Ivar snapped one of himself, as he grabbed onto the crutch he had for emergencies, although he didn’t use it too much, but his mother would have gotten an heart-attack if she hadn’t seen him with a crutch, at least.

No matter the fact that she stored a lot more in their house.

And at the start of the week she had even gone as far as to ask whether she had to get some for Eric, for you know… emergencies and such.

‘… Ivar, I am serious!’ she had protested once, when Ivar had started laughing at her worried tone on the phone ‘… I want that sweet boy to be at the most ease, in my house’.

‘Mom, (Y/N) will probably bring crutches if he needs it and you buying some would only make her even more nervous. And let me tell you: she is already terrified by you’ he had explained, because although his mother was important for him, he didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable with her.

And neither he wanted Freydis to be.

Although, unlike with you, there wasn’t much that could be done with Freydis, since both the women had closed off the option of a possible relationship between each other, which made it difficult to even feel something for the other.

You, instead, had always wanted to be loved.

You cared too much for people’s opinion, no matter the fact that sometimes you just couldn’t be liked by everyone.

And he couldn’t help but to think that was probably how your friendship had started back then.

He made you wait just a few more minutes, moving in your car, although he noted to himself that had he ever had trouble choosing a Christmas gift for you, he should have definitely gone with a new vehicle, since the poor thing you drove looked ready to kill itself from any moment.

He sat behind with Eric, to have more space for his legs and be more comfortable, as you pushed forward the car seat to allow him more space, meanwhile Eric saluted him from the car booster seat, smiling as Ivar moved to kiss his forehead, as you checked from the front mirror.

“… do you have everything you need?” you asked, softly, meanwhile you tried to start up the car and for a moment Ivar thought of suggesting you took his car, although he knew that it might have been difficult to use since it was set up for his needs.

“Yeah, don’t worry” he replied, as he adjusted himself, pushing the safety belt to click in its place “… is everything alright with you, two?”.

“Oh yeah, Eric is literally the most excited about today” and although you maintained a cheerful tone, it was obvious that you were nervous, although your eyes were hidden by sunglasses “… he woke me up at 6 a.m.”.

And now he understood the need for the sunglasses.

Eric clapped his hands, unable to stop himself from giggling loudly, and Ivar couldn’t help but find it adorable gently mimicking him much to your grimace.

But a light smirk appeared on your face as you pushed yourself away from the parking lot, setting up the map on your phone.

“Can we put music on, mom?” asked Eric, who looked like he could have fought anybody off, in that same moment “… please, please, pleeeeaseee”.

“Ok ok” you mumbled, before shooting a look at Ivar “… if your dad doesn’t mind”.

It felt strange, the way you said it.

For once you hadn’t called him Ivar and neither ‘he’, but ‘your dad’ almost as if you had recognized his role in Eric’s life.

Which wasn’t an easy and quick feat.

And he appreciated it.

“I don’t think I have much choice” he muttered softly, as he shot you a quick look, seeing your reaction on the mirror of the car, again that soft smile, barely there, but it was there.

“… truly, when you are a parent, you have none”.

---

The trip had been quiet.

Although Eric had moved himself around at the beat of the music for a few minutes, he had eventually drifted off to sleep and neither you nor Ivar had had the heart to wake him up, instead drifting off in a mindless chatter between you two, meanwhile you driver to your destination.

You had also confessed him that you, yourself, had had some problematic bleeding during your time with Eric, telling him that it was natural and that rest in most cases was the best way to go.

And Ivar explained to you that she’d have her mother over, some kind of dubiousness in his words, but again you didn’t dare sticking your nose in his thoughts and problems, instead telling him that during pregnancy you had indeed grown closer to your mother.

A lump in your throat appeared as you thought about your father instead.

It seemed that the women of your family were cursed with men that wouldn’t simply stick.

But meanwhile Ivar was doing his best to be there for his son, your father had left once it had gotten hard, pushing you and Eric away, something that made you a bit sad, and you were almost glad for Ivar’s comfortable presence.

You might have felt uncomfortable for the crush you had been harboring for him, but some things had never changed and the complicity you had always shared had remained and you were thankful for it, now that both your souls had grown quieter and reconciled.

Ivar guided you to his past house, although you had memorized the road when you were ten and could have still reached it blindly.

But you let Ivar think that you had forgotten some things.

Once you were set up in the free parking lot, having arrived first, Ivar woke up softly Eric a gesture that made your heart clench a bit, because although Ivar wasn’t known for being the most emotional man you knew, he was just so gentle with his son.

And the sole thought of it, somehow, hurt you.

You got out of the car, asking Ivar if he could buckle up Eric back in his braces, as you got the few things out of the car to be able to lose as little of time as you could.

Ivar did it quickly, meanwhile Eric still clang on him, half asleep, making you smirk softly, steadying himself against your pants, as Ivar grabbed his travel bag and you your own trolley, spending a few extra minutes to lock the car.

Because you were extremely nervous.

Although you had no reason to be.

Aslaug didn’t need to examine you, as a girlfriend or as a mother.

But you still… felt uneasy at the thought of disappointing her.

And Ivar noticed it.

He gently pushed his hand onto your back, not too close to be truly intimate neither too strong to be possessive, but it was calming and you shot him back a slight thankful smile, as Eric, again shy, hid behind you both, leaning on your trolley.

And then Ivar rang the door.

And before you could say anything to comfort Eric and yourself, the door was opened.

It revealed a graceful woman, in an elegant set of comfortable clothes, a pair of pastel sweatpants and a matching sweatshirt, something that you hadn’t thought you had ever seen the prim and proper woman wear.

But that wasn’t the sole surprise.

She obviously immediately focused her eyes on Ivar and you were glad of it, although it was almost awkward to stand there, but you endured it gladly, happy not to have the attention on you.

Which didn’t last.

Because once she got up from hugging Ivar, she moved her attention towards you and you were also enveloped in a tight hug, the entire gesture contrasting so much with her ice queen persona that you remembered that it sent you in sensory overload.

And you were glad that it finished pretty quickly, making you smile at the woman as she softly saluted you.

‘… oh gods, it has been so so long since I last saw you” she commented softly, shooting you a quick look “… and you look like not a single day has passed”.

“You also do look the same” you replied tightly, surprised by her warm personality, but soon Aslaug’s attention shifted away from you and onto Eric, hiding himself behind you both, as the older woman crunched down to be at eye-level with Eric.

“… and who is this handsome young man?” she asked with a soft smile, as Eric gained a bit of confidence with all those compliments, moving forward and holding out an hand for Aslaug, as you had told him to do.

The older woman, already on the verge of a crying attack, accepted it welcomingly, commenting how much he looked like his father as a baby.

‘… but you do seem much nicer’ she joked, as she gently lead him inside, checking with you if you were comfortable, to which you nodded, because although you had been unsure about all of this, you couldn’t help but be sweetened up by Aslaug’s soft gestures.

Ivar shot you an amused look as he moved inside, pushing the travel bag to sling over his shoulders, so that it wouldn’t annoy him with his braces, as you moved inside.

As soon as you were inside a storm of memories caught you, unable to truly ever forget the many things that had happened there, the many adventures that you had gone through thanks to the Lothbrocks.

And although there were many things you regretted…

… this wasn’t one of those.

“… it didn’t change in the slightest” you breathed out, as you took in the vintage furniture, matched with pastel fabrics that made it seem like a mixture between an haunted house and a magical castle.

“Mom wouldn’t agree” commented Ivar as you both reached the cloakroom to deposit your coats and to leave there your luggage “… she says that everything has changed since we have gone away”.

“Don’t make me think about it!” you muttered, shooting an ironic look at the roof, meanwhile Ivar giggled with overexaggerated annoyance.

“He is only five!” he reminded you, and you shot back a glare that told him ‘he just wouldn’t understand’ “… you, moms, are all the same: overthinking everything and everyone”.

“Don’t even try to talk ‘momma’s boy’ “you taunted him, and again you were right in between that friendship and that crush stadiums of your relationships that made moments like this irresistible and the most difficult for you.

“… my lips are sealed” muttered gingerly Ivar, although he moved to distance himself from you, clearly showing his uneasiness to this, something for which you were grateful.

And you both moved to the kitchen where Aslaug had brought Eric, making sure that he did a second breakfast in full fashion, completely spoiling his child and looking at him with a curiosity that made it seem like she was examining a strange animal.

You had had a small talk with Eric to explain him who Aslaug was and how to behave with her, promoting a more rigid behavior, that might have been not what was proper actually for the welcoming they had received.

“… I hope you didn’t mind that I gave him something” and with ‘something’ she probably meant half of the food in her kitchen “… I am used to my boys being quite hungry”.

You tried not to grimace at the ‘my boys’, but still chastised Eric a bit, not wanting to deny him the food he needed, but if he ate all those things not only he would have been on a sugar high by this afternoon, but he also might have not eaten anything at Thanksgiving lunch.

And yet you noticed the unsure look on Aslaug’s face, reminding you one of your own when you had been the young girl, waiting for her examination.

And although you knew it wasn’t proper, you almost snickered with yourself for it.

“… don’t worry” you simply commented, dabbing almost possessively Eric’s lips, trying to gain some control back, as you showed Aslaug that although you appreciated her concern and gentleness, you were Eric’s mother.

And she seemed to understand it as she distanced herself lightly, focusing her attention on her son.

And noticing solely now that Freydis was indeed missing.

‘Where is she?’ she asked, with a light scrunching of her eyebrows, which you recognized as ‘the look of disappointment’ otherwise known as the ‘I am judging you’ face.

And for a moment you didn’t want to be in Freydis’ place.

“She has had some problem with the pregnancy” immediately Aslaug’s eyes tightened on him, evidently worried “… she has been bleeding a bit, and although the doctor has told us that it isn’t anything worrying, he said to avoid stress”.

And facing a mother-in-law like Aslaug could be quite stressful.

So, you didn’t blame her.

“… and why aren’t you with her?” her voice was slightly lowered, not to be heard by a rather disinterested Eric, his gaze focused on trying to steal a few more handmade cookies, which you tried out for yourself, and you had to say that Aslaug certainly hadn’t lost her touch.

And you hoped they weren’t poisoned.

“Mom…” Ivar’s voice was indeed a bit annoyed “… she insisted about remaining home and I didn’t leave her alone, she is with her mom”.

This comforted you and Aslaug, honestly, as the woman moved her gaze onto Eric, who had finally shifted his focus on his grandma, suddenly having woken up fully from the food and tiredness nap he had been having.

“… so… you are my other grandma?”.

You were tempted to almost facepalm yourself, because if Eric had inherited one bad trait from Ivar it was his uneasy bluntness and you couldn’t help but blush a bit, almost worried of Aslaug’s reaction.

She had recognized your role as a mother, and she had even hugged you.

And then your child went like and literally called her ‘his other grandma’.

She was probably already questioning your parenting skills and…

… and she started laughing, loudly.

And you and Ivar soon joined, Ivar more truly than you, who croaked almost as a newborn bird, meanwhile Eric looked at you all, as if the inside joke you had said wasn’t funny and he wasn’t getting it, till Aslaug softly moved an hand towards his smaller one and muttered softly.

“Yes, sweetheart” she muttered softly, as she reached out to straighten up his hair, as he brought them away “… I am grandma, Aslaug”.

“Oh, that is a cool name!” Eric chanted, looking with bright eyes at your grandma “… like the name of the princess Ragnar marries!”

Not even the mention of Ragnar was enough to make a soft smile disappear from Aslaug’s face, as she did nod and confirm that ‘it was the same name indeed’, before she shot you a quick laugh, embarrassment written on her face.

And insecurities.

You encouraged her with a soft smile, and she asked you whether she could play a bit with Eric, outside.

‘It shouldn’t be too cold’ she explained ‘… and don’t worry… I have set up a small table and a few things for him…’.

You couldn’t help but be extremely warmed up by the way Aslaug seemed to already care for Eric, although your uneasiness was still there, constantly worried that these people might leave Eric’s life, leaving him heartbroken.

But you also knew that although Aslaug was an ice queen, she was truthful in every little gesture of her.

And when she swore, she meant it.

Ivar had definitely taken that after her.

‘Mom can I go?’ insisted Eric, shooting you a deep look, as you moved to lay a soft kiss on his forehead, before you allowed them both to go outside, sending him a light smirk as Aslaug smiled at you gratefully.

‘… just wear a jacket and an hat!’.

Ivar who had watched carefully the scene, laughed again at your worry, but you caught the way he attentively looked outside to make sure that everything was indeed Eric-proofed, although he shouldn’t have doubted his mother.

Since she had been through that with her own son.

You wondered whether she was so immediately attracted by Eric because of the similarity with Ivar.

But you didn’t have too much time to mind to these things, because suddenly there was a ring to the door and your small safe haven was becoming a crowded family function.

Shit, you were nervous again.

Ivar’s brothers now did know that you and Ivar had a child together.

He had told them after you had agreed to be there on Thanksgiving day, and he had taken it upon himself to contact them to give them the news, since you had both agreed that it would have been awkward to discover it in that moment.

Although you honestly hoped you could keep that secret for a bit more.

You weren’t ashamed of Eric or of having Ivar back in your life, although it was simply as a co-parent to your five-year-old, but you knew perfectly that Ivar’s brothers had always had a certain image of you.

An image that even after all this bullshit you felt like you had to upheld.

And you couldn’t, anymore.

And you hadn’t ever told this to Ivar, when you were together, but you hadn’t ever felt truly comfortable with his brothers.

Hvitserk was okay, although he was a bit too flirty for you, but he had taken the hint once you had threatened him of cutting his ‘beloved friends’ off and Sigurd was nice, although he could be twice as childish as Ivar, sending you the demo of many of his songs, expecting you to listen to them in a few minutes.

But they were ok.

You did dislike Ubbe, since you couldn’t help but feel at unease with him, although he was the calmer of the brothers, but you couldn’t help but think about the infamous ‘look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under it’ phrase.

Although you didn’t personally know much, since you had moved away, you had heard many rumors about him, and his numerous affairs, ending up his marriage with Margrethe, ruining the poor girl, and ending up marrying his brother’s wife.

If this wasn’t a scandal straight from a telenovela, you didn’t know what to call it.

But who you truly disliked was Bjorn.

He was the older son and thankfully he was their stepbrother, so he wasn’t around much time.

He had quite some toxic behaviors, starting from being a serial cheater and not a believer in monogamy, going on with the fact that he left whenever it got too hard, and although he wouldn’t be there for that lunch (which was a relief) you still didn’t like his presence.

And you secretly, not so much, hoped not to meet him.

He had been the most against your relationship with Ivar.

He had been constantly telling Ivar that he was losing out on being in a relationship at his age, but Ivar hadn’t cared much for his words, although you knew that he looked up at Bjorn almost like an hawk as if in that way he could steal his place as Ragnar’s heir.

But back in the time you hadn’t said much.

Ivar’s relationship with his brothers was already broken up by jealousy and the typical emotional angst, so you hadn’t wanted to add much more.

But now… having to face both Hvitserk and Ubbe, who brought Torvi with himself, they made you bit your tongue both for anxiety…

… and both to keep inside your words.

You felt a stranger left in the kitchen as Ivar opened the door, welcomed them inside with snarky remarks and sarcastic comebacks, but you could almost smell their interest and curiosity for you.

Ivar had told you they had taken the news well, but Sigurd had told you that both Ubbe and Bjorn had freaked out terribly in the chat, muttering things about your child and about the fact that Ivar was ‘stupid’ for taking it in so easily, without testing yourds.

Hvitserk had been the only one welcoming it, already muttering all the things he’d teach your child as his ‘favorite uncle’.

If Ubbe and Bjorn kept on acting like that, he and Sigurd would have soon been Eric’s sole uncles.

You wouldn’t have let your child grow up in such a disrespect.

You understood their uneasiness at your revelation, but you had expected some more confidence, because although you hadn’t been friends, truly, you had grown up together.

And Ubbe, himself, shouldn’t have muttered much after he had adopted the sons of another man, after he had ‘stolen’ away his bride.

Was there something truly different in what he had done and in what Ivar was doing with Eric?

But you reigned in your sourness, welcoming them inside the kitchen with a smile.

And for the first time in his life, Hvitserk moved to you immediately, ignoring completely the sweet treats on the table, laid out solely for his enjoyment, since Eric and Aslaug, the only one who would have dared to stop him, were outside, overlooked from the windows of the kitchen by Ivar.

He hugged you so tightly that he swung you off the chair you were comfortably sat on, making you giggle at his affectionate antics, before he hounded you to know where ‘his little nephew was’.

“… Gosh, I still can’t believe that Ivar was the one to forget about the condom rule, among all of us” now you were definitely embarrassed and Ivar shot an annoyed look at him, telling him to back off “… but I am glad that you are back here!”.

“Apparently I couldn’t run away that far” you commented, meaning for it to be ironical, but there was some truth behind it, and Ivar noticed it, his eyes growing a bit darker, as Hvitserk’s attention finally caught the cookies on the table.

And you were left dealing with Torvi and Ubbe.

The woman presented herself to you, since you didn’t know her if not from what you had heard from Ivar and Sigurd.

She was quite nice with you, at least being polite and gentle, and Ubbe was simply nice, something in his straight and tight pose making it difficult for you to feel relaxed and not awkward.

But still… you survived it.

And were glad to simply settle back in the background noise, meanwhile the brotherly chatter began, and you moved to Ivar’s side by the windows, noticing that Aslaug was trying to teach Eric some gardening.

‘She will get along quickly with my mom’ you muttered ‘… she works with a florist these days’.

“She has taken to gardening after we all went away…” there was something almost nostalgic in his voice “… as with yoga, pilates and a few hundred other hobbies… she always wonder why we are so restless and she blames it onto Ragnar, but the truth is…”

Now a proud smile lighted up Ivar’s gorgeous face, showing you the growth that he had gone through in those years where you hadn’t seen each other.

“… the truth is that she has a wild streak in herself”.

You were surprised by the door opening one more time, signaling that another guest had been welcomed, a guest you hadn’t expected as everyone else in the room.

The awkward silence intensifying in the room, as Ragnar walked in.

A grimace on his face as if he hadn’t expected everyone to look at him like an annoying mosquito, something that was quite evident in both his eldest and his youngest, meanwhile Hvitserk was still focused on the cookies.

Which you did also.

You were definitely much more uncomfortable now, but at the same time you felt a bit unrelated to all this family drama, glad when Aslaug walked in, to make Eric wash his hands, evidently having noticed that quite some time had already passed.

She noticed Ragnar and concealed quite well the surprise in her eyes, simply muttering a few orders at her children, meanwhile Eric ran to you, and you tried to isolate yourself asking him what he had been doing and what Aslaug had taught him.

Ivar also came closer, crouching down at his side, and that was what caught Ragnar’s eyes as he noticed the small family that had formed before his eyes, after he had exchanged a few unpleasant and rigid comments with his sons.

“… I thought you were with blondie” the comment was insensitive on so many aspects.

But when had Ragnar ever been attentive with Ivar?

Aslaug had smothered him, and Ragnar had tried, the few time he was in his life, to reverse the whole project with a steely discipline and a barely concealed disdain for Ivar’s disability.

“… none of your business, dad” Ivar muttered, pointing out each word, as you gently tried to lead Eric away from the confrontation that was soon to erupt, Aslaug noticing it and taking you with her, to find a vase for the flowers she and Eric had picked.

And you exchanged a soft smile with her, thankful for the distraction.

And as Eric roamed for the storage room, under your watchful eyes, choosing a proper vase, you muttered a gentle ‘thank you’.

‘… I…’ the words burned on Aslaug’s tongue, and you definitely felt like that was another thing Ivar had for sure inherited by her “… think I am the one who should say ‘thank you’ this time, this time, actually… and sorry”.

You were surprised but didn’t try to stop that discourse.

“… I didn’t mean to be horrid to you” she explained “… I never… thought you were, I actually was just worried about Ivar’s heart… although it wasn’t… my business”.

“I…” you knew that you should have said something like ‘don’t worry’ or ‘it isn’t a problem’, but you just felt like hiding behind pretty words wouldn’t have helped you, even more in this situation with Aslaug “… apologies accepted”.

She smiled brightly at you.

“… I know… that this isn’t a proper situation and Ivar and you have much more to discuss, but…” her mutter was almost the one of a scared child “… I’d like to be present in Eric’s life, if you ever need an help… I do know of your mother…”.

“I hope not to sound rude, but…” your tone was light and at the same time heavy “… it is just… I need a bit of time. I handled this alone, with only my mom on my side for so long, and now it is just strange to have all these people around you…”.

Aslaug nodded, although she wasn’t able to shed the sadness from her face.

But then you reached out for her hand.

“… but with time, I do hope to let you in” you softened your tone “… Eric needs his family with him”.

And she smiled the absolute brightest, right as Eric came back with the biggest vase.

“Can we use this?!”.

---

Ivar had always loved Ragnar, as a child.

He had seen him as his own hero, the sole he could relate to and the sole he could trust, but moving on with years and Ragnar’s numerous disappearances, the love and admiration had become distrust and hate.

For a father that had never wanted him.

But Ragnar still had his own influence on him.

Starting from the fact that for a long time children had been a very touchy subject for him and one more reason why he had chosen the fertilization in vitro.

To avoid his children developing any pathologies, like him.

Ragnar had wanted Aslaug to abort him.

It was a truth that Ivar had learned when he was fourteen, hormones full blown and annoyed at everything, once overhearing one of the many fights going on between Ragnar and Aslaug.

Since he was ten year old, Ragnar used his mother’s house as an hotel, constantly checking in and out, maybe playing with his sons for a little time, but many other times he’d tell them his magical journeys and stories.

And most of the time, it’d end up with Ragnar screaming at Aslaug.

And her screaming back at him.

Once, when they had gotten quite heated, mostly because Aslaug had told him that she was tired of taking care of his child with no help form him whatsoever, Ragnar had shot back that maybe she should have aborted Ivar when she had the time.

And Ivar, ‘Ivar The Boneless’, as his brothers always nicknamed him, had cried for an entire afternoon, after hearing that.

But this hadn’t shattered Ivar’s heart, not yet.

He had followed his father as a puppy, and he remembered the way many fights had erupted between you two for that, because of Ivar’s faithful behavior to somebody who didn’t deserve it.

Going to college and distancing himself from both his parents, he had learned that what you had complained about had been true, and his relationship with his father had been much more distanced, although he worked in the family business.

But he was trying to form his own legacy.

Hence Ragnar’s presence just brought him back in the past.

And he hated the feeling of being inferior that he felt.

He had been feeling so well, with the knowledge of yours and Aslaug’s relationship, mending as he noticed the desperate happiness in his mother’s eyes at finally meeting her first grandchild.

… he was indeed having a good time, without overthinking the whole ‘Freydis-You-Eric’ situation but now another thing was added to that dangerous math.

“Isn’t she…” Ragnar scratched the back of his head, as if it helped with remembering “… your old best friend? And how old is the child? Did you seriously hide a child for so long?”.

His tone was joking, but strangely arrogant and Ivar wondered if Heahmund felt that way when Ivar spoke to him.

… maybe he should have apologized.

Because he was extremely annoyed by Ragnar’s behavior.

“Which part of ‘none of your business’ don’t you understand?” he shot back, and Ragnar seemed seriously hit, his movements a bit slowed down probably from the few shots of tequila he had taken before coming here.

“I am just… I am…” the words weren’t slurred, but he was fully drunk, although his chain of reason seemed quite clouded by whatever he had taken “… you are my children you are my business”.

He shot a small look at all ‘his children’ in the room, trying to regain some sympathy but it wasn’t much useful, since they all were on Ivar’s side for once.

Both Hvitserk and Ubbe were neutral to his father, but this didn’t mean that they would have ever taken his side, even more as grown-ups.

“… we stopped being your business, after we were five and I got chicken pox and you were on the other part of the world, screwing somebody, meanwhile mom took care of four children all by herself” commented Hvitserk, something that definitely put Ragnar in great unease, not knowing how to react at that.

Not that he had to, since his son returned to eating, but it was clear that there was a quite some distance between him and his sons.

And Ivar didn’t like his presence even more, because he didn’t want Ragnar around Eric and neither did you, since you hadn’t known about it, having been assured that he wouldn’t be there.

But his father always found ways back to them.

His mother had never been able to fully delete him from their life and neither she had tried to delete him fully, at least for the sake of their children, and he couldn’t make it a fault to her, but he hoped his father would just take a hint.

“… I just… I just wanted a nice Thanksgiving” commented Ragnar, raising his hands as if to surrender anything he might have wanted “… with my family”.

And nobody could deny it.

Although they could make it true hell for him.

In the end the brothers decided to keep to themselves as Ragnar stood in the middle of the room rather awkwardly, meanwhile you and Aslaug returned in that moment with a vase that was bigger than Eric, the small boy trumping happily between the two women, as Aslaug and you shared a few interesting botanical facts.

He wished he could see the same happening with Freydis.

But he tried to make his thoughts quiet, not truly knowing how to deal with Eric and Ragnar, so for now he just tried to act the best way possible, meanwhile he helped ‘his little man’ with the vase.

“… no no, Dad! I am strong like Thor!” protested loudly Eric, but you did send Ivar a look as if to say ‘do check on him’, meanwhile Aslaug adjusted the flowers, the other brothers quickly finding excuses to disperse from the kitchen: Hvitserk going to the bathroom and Ubbe and Torvi going to his old room, so that they could do a few calls.

He had hoped Ragnar would get a hint too, but he didn’t.

And he came close to Eric, as the child sat down to help his grandma and you, your eyes immediately trained on Ragnar, who sent you a small smile, probably not recognizing you fully, although he had indeed recognized you as Ivar’s ‘best friend’.

You didn’t look definitely happy to see Ragnar, but you didn’t let it be seen on your face, although you were attentive with the way Ragnar moved closer to your son.

Because he wasn’t certainly an idiot, and he must have done the math to realize that the child was Ivar’s, no matter the amount of alcohol and drugs that he had put in his system to numb it.

“… hi” he muttered, as he came to Eric’s side, the boy’s eyes suddenly moving onto him, as he shot you a surprised look, again shyness in his eyes and Aslaug chastised Ragnar with a warning smile.

“Hi” replied Eric, as he turned to him, after you had lightly nodded, but still putting an hand on the back of your child, as Ivar came to your side, something that made you send him a soft thankful smile.

He couldn’t help but feel something deep inside him fall in love again with that smile.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked, as Eric shook his head, and Ragnar sent a look at Ivar, who sent one to you.

He hadn’t meant to make you live this situation, knowing perfectly well how much this would have made you nervous, because for sure you hadn’t expected to be surrounded by so many people and not only because he did remember that you were an introvert…

… but it must have been a big change to go from nobody knowing anything to everybody knowing about ‘your dirty little secret’.

But you decided to do your best to make something good out of an awful situation.

And you invited Ragnar to explain it to him, with a small look, that spoke the words ‘don’t fuck it up’.

“… I am your grandpa” commented the man, as Eric’s eyes became bright like stars, as he clapped his hands, strongly.

“Grandpa!” he called him excitedly “… do you want to come with me to my soccer games?”.

The question was so innocent and adorable that even Ragnar cracked up a tender smile as he nodded your hand, although he could totally feel you grimace at that, but you gave Eric your best smile, as Aslaug suggested that she got the vase set up, and you helped Eric washed his hands properly.

Effectively leaving Ivar and Ragnar alone.

You shot him a small look to check with him, before joining after Eric, and he wasn’t able to stop himself from thinking about the past and about how your constant support had meant so much for you.

And he had been stupid enough to take it for granted.

“Where did that one plop off?” commented loudly Ragnar, once you all were out of earshot, making Ivar grimace and for a minute he thought that he could have just ignored him and hoped he’d just ‘magically’ disappear.

Since he was so good at that.

But if Ivar had inherited something from him was that shit-eating attitude that would have stopped him from backing off and relenting, even when it was clear he had lost.

“… I discovered about him a few months ago” explained Ivar, trusting the fact that Ragnar wasn’t truly listening.

That he wasn’t truly interested in what he had to say.

Ragnar was only interested in what he, himself, had to say.

“… (Y/N), his mother, didn’t let me know about his existence till I found out, because she was sure I didn’t want him in my life…” which was strangely what had been happening with him in his family, so he couldn’t blame you truly for having had that thought “… turns out she was wrong”.

“So, you took him in” he spoke of Eric almost as if it was a charity case and Ivar had to hold back the rage in him “… that’s a good action, son”.

“I am trying to avoid becoming like you” he commented, a sneak attack at Ragnar who showed the sufferance of it but stabilized quickly “… abandoning the children that I fathered as if they were simple trash”.

“… but is this true?” he shot back, letting out an amused breath “… because I do think that you are following in my footsteps perfectly”.

“No, I am not” he ground out his teeth as he growled out the words.

“Then where is the pretty blonde I saw the last time?” Ragnar asked loudly “… and I don’t think that you are married with the mother of your child… so, I do think that you are handling them both… unsure of what to do”.

And this was damnably true.

“You know nothing” it was stupid, but he hoped it’d shut up the entire situation, because it was making him feel just worse.

Would he seriously end up like his father?

Old and with a myriad of problems?

He hoped not to.

He had wanted to become bigger than him, in his job, but he had also wanted to become better than him, family-wise, that was the reason behind his choice of Freydis.

Why he had let himself be convinced so easily in what sounded like the fairytale life.

But was it truly?

Even more when he felt so perfectly with you and Eric.

“… but I do” it was barely a whisper.

But Ivar didn’t have a good enough reply for that.

---

Ragnar’s appearance at the Thanksgiving lunch had undoubtedly put a bit of a damper on your mood, but you tried your best to take care of Eric, letting the baby interact with his grandpa.

Eric missed greatly your father and his grandfather.

Your grandfather had been extremely attached to Eric, and his disappearance had been so sudden that Eric had simply thought, for a whole week after he had run away, that he’d be back soon.

He had just gone on a trip.

And when the knowledge he wouldn’t have come back had settled in, Eric had grown much more silent, and he had kept this behavior till he had met again Ivar, developing again his cheery personality, for which you were thankful.

But at the same time, it made you worried.

And although Ragnar had been gentle with Eric, you didn’t exactly want him around your child, had his tendency to disappear kept on being present in his tumultuous soul.

Eric had had enough instability in his life, and you didn’t want to add much more.

But you had bigger problems at hand.

Hvitserk had been introduced to Eric and he kept on trying to teach him some dirty limericks, much to your, Aslaug’s and Ivar’s annoyance, who all shot him an annoyed glare.

But you were glad that Eric was having fun with his uncle and you were even gladder by the soft-spoken approach Hvitserk had been having about it, completely treating the situation as if it was completely normal.

Unlike Ubbe who kept on shooting attentive glances at the child.

But you ignored it, in favor of having a few chats with Aslaug and Torvi.

In the end, by the time the lunch was ready, you were definitely much more comfortable and although you tried to keep your bigger emotions at bay, you almost felt… involved in the family.

And you were unsure if it was a good thing or not.

You were glad for that environment for Eric, who was definitely at ease and happy.

You hoped you could keep the same thing up after Freydis had her own child, something that put you a bit at unease, not wanting to push yourself in a situation where you didn’t belong, knowing perfectly well how much care a newborn baby required from both parents…

… and although Ivar was handling quite well the situation…

… you hoped the new baby wouldn’t have been leading Ivar away from Eric, when they were both that close.

Although it was a selfish thought.

But for now, you tried to push away those awful thoughts.

And enjoyed the moment.

By lunchtime Eric had already gotten a few new toys by Ivar, something that had made you quirk a brow at the man himself, but he had just smirked slightly as if to say ‘what can I do about it’.

Well, if Eric was going to grow up as a spoiled brat, he’d have had to do something.

But for now, you enjoyed seeing your beloved Eric all happy and playful.

Aslaug was nice also, certainly having grown quite close to the child, although not much time had passed, but you had smiled with pride, as she had complimented you for the amazing education he had received…

‘… unlike somebody else’ she had muttered looking at her children: Ubbe on his phone, Hvitserk with something stuck in his mouth and Ivar trying to figure out a lego castle for his son ‘… I swear I tried my best’.

‘I do believe it’ you shot back, with a small smile.

Also Aslaug tried her best to avoid talking about Ragnar or with him, and he on his part did his best to avoid both her and Ivar, moving onto the sofa, as he watched a game, soon joined by Hvitserk.

Eric instead helped Aslaug out after the lunch, bringing her dishes from the table to the kitchen sink, although he barely reached the table, helped by you and Ivar.

‘The portrait of a family’ commented tightly Ragnar, something that put you and Ivar through a lot of uneasy embarrass, but you handled it at your best for the wellness of your mental health.

As you all settled down for a small and calm after lunch coffee, the food having lessened the differences among each other soon you found yourself dozing off, happily, on the sofa.

Lately you had been doing a lot of night shifts at the art gallery, because they were better paid and you felt more comfortable being able to take care of Eric in the afternoon, so you could help him with homework and bring him to soccer practice and doctor appointments.

You must have simply closed your eyes for moment just to wake up when you felt tiny fists hitting lightly your stomach and opened your eyes to find a rather happy Eric, blowing in your face to push your hair away.

And outside it was utter and fully dark.

Shit.

You looked all around yourself immediately seeing that you weren’t on the sofa anymore, and you had been tucked in what you remembered being Ivar’s old bedroom.

You couldn’t help but be worried sick, immediately checking your watch and discovering it was already 7 p.m.

You had slept for four hours.

Which would have been reasonable, hadn’t you basically fallen asleep at your ex’ house, when you had promised to bring him back to his pretty wife right after lunch.

You couldn’t help but have this feeling of having basically fucked up everything.

And Eric kept on jumping on the bed.

“… sweetie” you called out to him, realizing that if you had been napping all this time he had had the time to replenish himself of sugar and would end up probably breaking his brakes if he kept on jumping in that way “… where is your father?”.

“Dad is downstairs” explained Eric, as you gently grabbed him on his waist to calm him down and bring him an hug, indulging a moment more enjoying the warmth of that soft body and the smell of light sweat and cuddles that Eric always had on his clothes.

Before his words truly registered.

And you realized Ivar hadn’t gone back.

To his very pregnant wife.

Because of you.

As soon as you managed to settle down Eric and make him move after you, you descended downstairs, to catch he Lothbrocks in what looked like a challenge of GTA.

All the brothers were playing, cursing lightly at each other, meanwhile Aslaug glared at them for those curses and Ragnar cheered them on, with a beer in his hand.

It almost seemed a normal family.

And then immediately their attention was onto you, as Eric loudly chased after you, his brakes stumping against the soft moquette of the house, as you noticed he wasn’t wearing shoes, Aslaug catching your gaze and explaining to you:

‘He seemed uncomfortable and I thought he’d feel better without shoes…’ she set you a small look ‘… I hope you didn’t mind it’.

‘No no, if you don’t’ you spoke back, before you sent Ivar a pleading look, and he abandoned the newest round of the game, among brotherly insults, as Hvitserk slapped his ass, and Eric had a quite gleaming look at that gesture, making you send him a glare.

You expected Ivar to be angry.

He was always angry when things didn’t go the way he wanted.

He was a perfectionist in each thing, even more in his own plans.

But Ivar simply looked at you softly, as you hurriedly moved to explain that you could still make it time for you to arrive at 9 p.m. back in the city and to please apologize to Freydis for your accidental…

‘Hey… don’t worry’ because as much as he hadn’t changed from the perfectionist he was, you continued on stumbling on your own words whenever you were nervous, as you did back in the time ‘… I have actually asked mom if you could stay here in the guest room with Eric. I don’t want you to drive with this tiredness’.

‘I slept, I am completely energized’ you replied loudly and then yawned ruining completely the effect of your words, and earning a soft raised eyebrow from Ivar ‘… and I wouldn’t want to bother… Aslaug was already nice enough to have me for lunch…’.

‘… she doesn’t mind, and she prefer to have me safe on the road’ he explained ‘… Freydis also said the same’.

‘Gosh I just feel so awfully for having fallen asleep!’ you commented breathing loudly ‘… I swear that I totally understand if Freydis is angry with me’.

‘I actually…’ he started with a smile that wasn’t truly a smile, but something to hide his uneasiness ‘… actually I think that she is grateful for that. I can be pretty annoying…’.

Which you didn’t certainly deny.

But at the same time, you would have been eager to have him back at home, had you been pregnant as Freydis, although you didn’t regret your pregnancy and certainly didn’t need a man by your side, but…

… having him back home with you would have made you feel better.

Although Ivar could be indeed quite suffocating when he was trying to be ‘overprotective’.

But again, it wasn’t any of your business.

‘… are you sure?’ you simply mumbled, feeling like you could have survived a bit more with Aslaug’s food and a bit of relax, although you had to get to your phone, probably, before your mother came to search you, here, herself.

The brothers all left before dinner and in the end, it was simply you and Eric, Aslaug and Ragnar, the latter basically falling asleep on the sofa, right after the meal.

Aslaug stayed up just in time for supper, before retiring to her chambers, probably a bit tired by the fact that she had had to handle an ex-husband, one child and three grown-ups who were like children, mentally.

You and Eric also left soon, as Ivar took care of switching off the lights and setting the alarm, but you knew that he also needed a bit of private time to talk with Freydis.

And you had to set a five-year-old with too much sugar in bed, washing him up and changing him in comfortable clothes, making sure he got his meds.

As you were changing him, Ivar knocked on your door, to wish you goodnight and offer you a set of pajama, which you immediately recognized as an old pair you had left at his house when you were fifteen and used to sleep over there, enough that you had started leaving pajamas as clues in Ivar’s wardrobe.

But you couldn’t deny still the surprise you felt when you had it in your hands, laughing lightly as you wondered whether you’d be able to fit in them.

“… I can’t believe that you still have it” you mumbled, stretching it out in front of you to take in the awful sloth decoration on it, and the obnoxious white color that had become a dirtied yellow for too many wash-ups.

“Mom must have noticed it and washed it” he commented dryly, and you could detect the lies in his words, but were grateful to sleep into something familiar and not your uncomfortable clothes.

And it smelled like Ivar.

As if you were back at the times when you had just been invited to sleep over at his house, once your parents’ fighting had become too intense for you, and you had just snuggled closer to him, his smell immediately comforting you.

And it still comforted you to this day.

“Thank you” you muttered, as Eric moved forward to receive his ‘goodnight kiss’ and his ‘goodnight story’, something that effectively seemed to ease him up, meanwhile he settled in the big bed next to you and you changed in the bathroom, noticing that you had grown a few inches since the last time you had worn the pajama.

It had grown also tight in some other places, and you were almost ashamed of moving yourself outside of the bathroom, eventually bringing yourself to when Eric called out for you, and you tried to keep your eyes down, as you sat beside him in bed, his eyes still shining with some kind of interested ‘curiosity’.

Almost a gleaming mischievousness.

So, you got ready for whatever he was going to ask for.

“Mom!” he chanted out loudly and you shushed him telling him ‘to be mindful of the people sleeping in other rooms’ “… how did you and dad meet?”.

Gosh, didn’t this bring out horrible memories?

And some sweet ones.

Ivar looked as confused as you for the question, but not half-displeased.

“Sweetie, it is a long story…” you started, but Eric looked like he might have not slept for months if he hadn’t heard it, as he pleaded for more.

‘Just another minute!’ he chanted loudly ‘… just another story’.

And eventually both you and Ivar relented, the man’s eyes sparkling brightly, as he started.

“Actually I knew your mother for a long time, since we were tiny like you…” and he went to boop softly his son’s face, making him giggle “… we were best friends for a long time”.

“And then what changed?” asked curiously Eric.

‘Ivar started to look me as a woman, not as simply his best friend’ you wanted to say, but you knew that this wouldn’t have been very PG-13, so you simply opted for a more ‘fairytale-like’ explanation.

“… your dad and I both grew up and so did our deelings, and our friendship became more love” you explained, as you kissed softly his forehead, Ivar’s eyes slowly settling up to you meanwhile you said those words.

And you tried not to let it affect you.

… too much.

Since it was truly impossible not to feel the pressure of those beautiful eyes.

“But if you loved each other why did you…” his brain seemed to settle up links and you honestly were as confused as him to that situation, because in the end although Ivar had told you that he didn’t love you anymore, he hadn’t ever said the reasons behind it “… why are you not together anymore?”.

And you let also this be handled by Ivar.

His eyes shifting on the floor as you, yourself, felt too uncomfortable at that question.

“… we just…” they were blabbers the ones in Ivar’s voice “… I broke your mom’s heart sadly, a lot time ago, and I wasn’t able to do much to repair it in the meanwhile, but…”.

He brought you closer to him, with a loose arm, which made you both seem the picture of awkwardness, but it was enough convincing for Eric.

“… but we are together, now…”.

“… in a way” you added, before moving closer to Eric with a serious look “… and somebody is way past his bath time!”.

And Eric tried to protest a bit more, but eventually he let go, and you switched off the main light, leaving only the one on the bedside table, as Ivar continued on softly combing his hair, something that eventually got Eric to breath out softly, signaling he was asleep.

And Ivar had to leave.

Although you could see he didn’t want to.

And you couldn’t deny him, truly.

“… would you like to lay down for a bit with us?” you asked softly, as you settled on the opposite side of him “… he seems happier and calmer when you are beside him”.

“I never thought somebody would have said that” he commented with a light twinkle in his eyes “… you won’t mind if I stay?”.

You shook your head, telling yourself that it was just for tonight.

It was just for one night.

And then you’d go back to normality.

Sadly.

---

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foxtophat · 3 years ago

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i dont have much to say about this one!!! it’s just a story about carmina’s tenth birthday, and how the town of fall’s end is coping a decade after the collapse. uhhh there are some random children in it? bean is there! and of course john shows up, too, because that’s KIND OF THE POINT of mercyverse lol

technically there’s a story that comes before this, but i don’t have the vibe yet for it so i haven’t worked on it in a while. instead, i’ll probably just keep moving forward and throw up that one if the rest of the plot becomes at all relevant to the real main storyline. uhhh the next one will take place in the spring of 2029 and we’re going to start getting into some fun stuff that i’ve planned out for a while!!!

until then, uh, the usual: love you, please like/share/reblog/kudos/comment, whatever you feel good about doing, because i sure do love to share my universe with other people! hope you’re doing well and hopefully i’ll see you with another fic in a few weeks!

also as usual: the story text is below the cut for those of you who wanna stay on tumblr :)

It's Carmina's tenth birthday, and there's a party in town. The two things aren't exactly related, sure, but Carmina's used to sharing her birthday with the Collapse, and she's not about to turn down a bunch of free food. How can she not go to a real Hope County barbecue after her parents had hyped the experience up so much in the bunker? She'd hoped that her ninth birthday would have gotten a similar treatment, but the town just didn't have the food or people for it at the time. Her parents had told her that next year would be better; Carmina does her best to keep her imagination from blowing the whole thing out of proportion.

They leave a little bit after breakfast. Since John is coming along, mom has no excuse not to let Carmina ride in the back with him. He's not excited to be heading into town, but then again, the town isn't usually excited to see him, either. And considering what day it is, they're likely to be extra rude to him. Carmina doesn't get it, honestly, but she's just glad that she can ride in back without her mom grabbing onto her at every pothole and bump in the road.

The first surprise of the day comes as her dad parks just past the church, giving her a chance to stand up and look out over the town. She hasn't been here in a while, and so she's surprised to see that they've cleared out a lot of the dirt lot behind the usable buildings — and there are a lot of people hanging out there. Carmina's never seen so many people at once — she loses count around twenty and can easily guess double that. It's enough to rattle her nerves for just a second, before she catches the looks on her mom and dads' faces and realizes that this is probably a good thing. Sure, John looks like he wants to hop back in the truck and go home, but he always looks like that around strangers. Her parents, on the other hand, actually seem happy for once, and that's what matters to Carmina.

The second surprise is just how many of the adults seem to know her. Her parents move slowly through the mingling crowd, usually coming up with names for faces before Carmina's even looked at the strangers who call her by name. She gets lots of comments like, "I remember when your parents were expecting you!" and "I was wondering how the Rye's little girl turned out!" and even a few, "Glad to see you made it," comments that make her parents side-eye each other pretty fiercely. She doesn't need to introduce herself to anyone, not even people who her parents don't know so well — it's like everybody's always known her, and her family. It's kind of cool — but also kind of weird. Pastor Jerome always said that their family was a pillar in the community, but this is first-person evidence, right here in front of her.

Plenty of the adults wish her a happy birthday, too, but she knows their hearts aren't in it. It's one of the big drawbacks to sharing her birthday with the end of the world — nobody asks how old she is, nobody wants to know what she did on previous birthdays, and all of them have to make some kind of depressing comment. Like trying to get her to relate to birthdays before the Collapse: all they want to do is tell her about all the things she could be doing, or would be doing, if only the world hadn't ended. They want to share their birthdays from the past, but Carmina's never been to the movies, she doesn't know who Disney is, and she has no idea why they'd need a cake and candles for it all. Somebody tells her she should be graduating to the fourth grade, and she just stares back because what even is the fourth grade? What does that mean?

They mean well, so Carmina does her best not to upset anybody, but she knows that nobody appreciates how little she cares about life before the Collapse.

At least there are other kids in town today. Her mom had been telling her about some of them — kids who don't have families, who the town looks after — but Carmina's only ever met one of them, and that had been only for a few minutes. But Carmina can see them hanging out in the field, and as soon as her mom lets her, she heads right out to them. It's about time that she met people her age — she's getting tired of only ever talking to old people.

Of course, meeting strangers is still difficult for her, but she's saved from too much embarrassment as she recognizes the chicken brothers hanging out in the small group. She can't remember which one is Tom and which one is Matt, but they seemed really nice when they helped her pick out her chickens. She also recognizes the oldest boy in the group, although she can't remember his name at all. She's never seen the others before — two teenage girls, another boy her age, and a kid a couple years younger than her — but hopefully she won't make a total fool of herself.

"Hi," she says as she approaches, waving.

"Hey, Carmina," Matt-or-Tom says, stepping aside to make room for her in their makeshift circle. "I thought we would see you today."

"Yep," Carmina smiles, "Here I am!" She sees the teenagers' curious looks and tells them with little fanfare, "Today's my birthday."

"Oh," the oldest boy says. "That sucks."

One of the girls elbows him. "Don't be mean," she says.

"No, he's right," Carmina says. "It does suck."

"Well, happy birthday anyway. How old are you now?"

"Ten."

"Wow," the girl says. She looks at the boy, then back to Carmina, and says sympathetically, "You weren't kidding. That's rough."

Giggling with relief, Carmina waves once more. "It's okay. My name's Carmina, by the way. It's nice to meet you."

Being polite works like a charm, and the oldest boy is quick to go around with introductions. "Well, I'm Jason — this is Caroline, and this is Flower. The little kid there —"

"Hey!"

"— Is Bean, and... Sorry, man, what did you say your name was again?"

The other ten-year-old looking boy frowns and shoves his hands deeper into his pockets. "Luke," he says.

"Okay, Luke. And you know Tom and Matt."

"We were talking about the bison out in the field," Tom-or-Matt says. He points in the direction of home and asks, "Did you guys see the big one when you were coming into town?"

"The one that's all white?" Carmina asks, "With the big scar over its hump? We see that one all the time when we come out this way —"

"No, no," the other brother says, "Jason says there's a bigger one."

"I told you guys," Jason says, "I only saw it once, and it was late at night while I was up in the crow's nest. I don't think it comes out during the day."

Carmina frowns. "What big one? What do you mean?"

"Oh, boy," Caroline sighs, "Don't listen to him, Carmina, he's full of shit."

"Hey, language," Flower laughs.

"Look, I was pretty far away, but I had the sniper rifle and I wasn't sleeping on the job. Uh, so..." He points out over the field, towards a squat set of huts surrounding a tall, busted silo that's still standing. The view from up there must be great. "Jerome has me sit up in that tower sometimes, you know, to practice. So I was up there, looking around, and it was probably midnight or so... and I just see this glow out in the field. I think it's a fire, right? Maybe somebody made a camp out there on their way to town or something. So I look out through the scope — and it was a bison."

"A glowing bison?" Carmina asks skeptically.

"Yeah. Like, a monster bison. It was all dark and scaly looking, except for the way its belly glowed. I thought about shooting it, but..."

Caroline laughs. "He got scared. Or it wasn't real, and he's making it all up."

"I wasn't scared, and I'm not making it up! It's not like it could've hurt me up in the nest. It... just didn't feel right. You know, it was just grazing with the rest of the herd. And it moved off over the hill before I could change my mind or call anybody up to confirm it."

"Sure, Jason."

"I'm serious," Jason insists, "I really saw it, okay? I told Jerome about it and everything." He frowns at the dirt. "He said it might've been mutated after the bombs. Then he told me not to go looking for it."

"He's right," Flower says. "Even regular bison are pretty dangerous." She smiles. "That's why I like deer — they won't hurt you. If you sit really still, sometimes they'll even come up and lick your face."

"Oh," Carmina says. "I usually just shoot them. They eat all our vegetables otherwise."

"Yeah," Flower sighs, "Sometimes I do, too. But they're also nice to watch."

Tom-or-Matt looks to his brother. "I wonder if that's what we see outside at night?"

"What, deer?"

"No, dumbass." He turns to the group and explains, "Sometimes, when it's real late and I gotta use the bathroom, I'll see something glowing out in the woods. Dad's cut back a lot of space so it never gets very close, but... maybe it's another mutated animal."

"At least you'll see it coming when it tries to attack you," Carmina suggests.

"Gee, thanks."

Carmina knows he's probably teasing, but she still feels guilty for being so blunt about it. The least she can do is try to reassure him. "Well... most animals don't attack near houses, I don't think. When we first came out of the bunker, there were wild dogs and wolves that would watch us, and my dad was real worried about them — but now they mostly stay away from the property. I think it's because of the fence. You guys have a fence, right?"

"Yeah, plus a butt-load of chickens that freak out over anything out of the ordinary." Matt-or-Tom grins at her and asks, "Don't they wake you up with every little thing?"

Carmina briefly considers mentioning John being attacked, then decides against it. She also doesn't want to tell them that the chickens live mostly indoors at night now — the last thing she wants to do is kick off a whole big thing about the cult on her dang birthday! It's already hard enough pretending to care about them around her parents; she's not sure she could even force herself to bother here. And if she's not careful, the kids in town might start to think about her and her family the same way all the adults do.

"They're pretty docile, actually," she says, "And we only really see deer around our place... It's not like they eat chickens."

"Well.... maybe there's a mutant deer out there that wants to eat you," Tom-or-Matt teases.

Carmina rolls her eyes. "I'll shoot it before it gets past the hangar," she replies.

Of course, her dismissive confidence leads to a sprawling discussion on who might be the best shot out of the group. Carmina does her best to defend her skills, considering she can't prove any of it right now, but all three teens insist they're dead-eyes, and even Bean says he's "getting pretty good at the aiming part." On top of that, the kids from the town have gotten pointers from Aunt Grace herself, which means they might actually be better shots than Carmina expects.

"Maybe we should have a competition," Caroline suggests. "I bet Pastor Jerome and Aunt Grace would be okay with it."

"Sure," Jason laughs, "But you know they'd make us spend forty minutes disassembling and cleaning our rifles before and after. Like I don't know what I'm doing — I'm almost fifteen!"

"Have you guys been to Aunt Grace's?" Carmina asks. "She has a shooting range there."

"Maybe she'd let us use it!"

"I've never been to a real shooting range," Bean says.

"It's not a real shooting range," Jason points out, "Those all got blown up. Do you even know how to use a gun, Bean?"

"I just said I do! My dad taught me! I... just don't like the loud noises it makes."

Matt-or-Tom boasts, "We learned to shoot in our bunker. Mom collected Airsoft guns — they don't use bullets, so they can't kill you."

"What's the point of that?"

"I dunno, I guess practicing underground?"

Tom-or-Matt laughs. "Dad was convinced the Peggies were gonna get us, so he wanted us to know how to shoot."

The quiet kid, Luke, finally speaks up. "Lucky," he mutters, "Easier to learn underground, I bet."

"What about you?" Carmina asks. She tries not to cringe away when he stares back at her like he didn't expect anyone to hear him. Maybe he doesn't like people talking to him? "Um... my mom and dad had a bunch of gun magazines in the bunker, but I never got to shoot a real gun until we came outside. Mom and Aunt Grace have been teaching me, though, and I'm way better than my dad is."

Luke hesitates. "Kind of the same. We came up early, though. Had to."

"Me, too," Jason replies. "It was just me and my brother. I was five when we got stuck in the bunker — we went through our supplies in about three years, so we had to come back up."

"We... only stayed down until I could walk," Luke admits. "It was still really cold when we came up. And mom got real sick for a while."

"Yikes," Bean says, "That sucks!"

"Come on, bean," Jason snaps, "You don't say that."

"You just said it to her!" Bean shouts, pointing at Carmina.

"He's... right," Luke mumbles. "It sucked. It... still sucks. But things are getting better now." He looks up at them, then drops his eyes back to the dirt. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Carmina insists, "I asked first!"

"That's kind of the mood today," Caroline adds. "Don't worry. We can talk about something else."

The change in topic comes abruptly as Bean points towards the Church and asks, "Who is that with Pastor Jerome?"

Carmina doesn't need to look, but since the rest of the group does, she might as well too. John has his hat pulled low over his eyes, as usual, which makes him look suspicious, as usual. Knowing him, he probably didn't even leave the truck — just waited there for Jerome to come talk to him.

She can only hope that Tom and Matt keep their mouths shut since they're the only other kids who know what John looks like nowadays. Unfortunately for her, that hope is pretty quickly dashed.

"Oh," Matt-or-Tom says, like a jerk, "That's John, I think. Right, Carmina?"

"Wait," Jason says, "You're that Carmina?"

Carmina ducks her head. "Um... it depends, I guess?"

Flower, looking too sympathetic for Carmina's liking, tries to mediate. "He just means, well... Jerome talks about you sometimes."

"And he talks about that guy," Jason adds, pointing without any subtlety at all.

"Everyone talks about that guy," Caroline says with a sigh. She gives Carmina a sympathetic shrug as she does, as though she wishes she could stop the conversation from happening, too. That only makes Carmina worried that this isn't the first time the teenagers have sat around gossiping about John and the crazy people who decided to take him in.

"Wait," Bean gasps, way too loudly, "That's John Seed?"

"Oh my God," Matt-or-Tom sighs, "You gotta keep up with the conversation."

"Wait, what's he doing here? Why's he going into the church? I thought he wasn't supposed to come to town? I thought he was locked up!"

Carmina groans. "It's my birthday," she whines, "I don't wanna talk about John today!"

"We don't have to," Caroline says. "Guys, come on."

"I mean, he did kill a lot of people. Isn't he, like, a psychopath? Isn't it weird to live with a murderer?"

"Jason!"

Luke mutters, "I heard he used to cut off people's skin."

"That's true," Jason replies, "My brother has a huge scar from when it happened to him. Boy, I hope he doesn't see that jackass is here..."

Matt-or-Tom finally seems to realize what he's started, frowning as the conversation spirals crazily out of control. It's too late to stop it, though, and so he shuffles his feet and looks apologetically towards Carmina.

Fine. If she can't get around the subject, she's just going to have to tackle it head-on. Even if that sounds really scary. She doesn't think that these guys are going to flip out like the caravan last year did, but she's still a little worried that she might be in for a fight if she says the wrong thing about John.

"I know John used to be a bad guy," she says. "Like, really bad. My dad's got one of those scars, too. But he's not like that any more. All he does nowadays is help my parents with chores and stuff. And he's just like everybody else — he doesn't talk about what happened before the Collapse to me or anybody. So I really don't know anything more than you guys.

She probably knows less than them, honestly, but she's not about to say so and get a brutal lesson in everything John's ever done wrong.

"So he's just... different, now?" Jason asks, frowning unhappily at the church.

"I guess so," Carmina replies with a shrug. She looks over to make sure that John and Jerome are inside, just in case. "He's not... scary, or mean, or anything like that. Just quiet. Kind of... lonely, I guess. Ever since he found out his brother is alive but still crazy, he's been really beat up about it." He's also been literally beaten up over it, but now's not the time to try and make the others feel sorry for him. John would probably be irritated at the idea of a bunch of kids pitying him.

Matt-or-Tom is quick to help her out, which is nice. "She's right," he says. "The Father is still out there in the woods with all those crazies, but John's repented. Dad said he made amends with God, whatever that means. He... uh, still doesn't like us being around him, but when we helped him load the chickens in he seemed okay. Just real quiet."

"That's John, alright," Carmina sighs.

Bean looks seriously disappointed by the news. "You mean he doesn't talk about it at all?" he asks.

"No," Carmina says, snapping for good measure, "And he gets really upset when you ask about it, so don't."

"I'm not gonna go talk to him!" Bean gasps.

The idea that a kid might be scared of John is pretty funny, considering how uncomfortable he is around her, but Carmina's not about to say as much. John probably wouldn't like her sharing a weakness like that with a bunch of strangers, and she wouldn't want them using it against him later.

Flower slowly lifts her hand, looking embarrassed. "Some of the adults in town say the Bliss messed him up. Is that... true?"

Well, at least she's trying to be nice about it. "I dunno," Carmina admits. "He was super weird when he first started living with us, but that might've just been because he was stuck in his bunker for so long."

"Oh, that happened to a guy my dad knows!" Bean supplies helpfully. "Dad calls it bunker shock. Says living underground too long is bad for you when you're all alone!"

"Glad I didn't live in one long enough for that," Luke says. When everyone looks at him, he clams up for a second before continuing on. "A neighbor came up just this year. He's... real weird. I don't like him much. He still sleeps underground, hoping he'll wake up and it'll all be a dream." He scuffs his boot against the dirt, sniffing loudly. "That's what my mom says, anyway. I try not to be around when he comes by."

"He wouldn't be the first adult to be like that," Jason says. He gives the church one last look before nodding his head towards the party. "I mean, that's why we're all the way out here, instead of hanging out around the food. Right?"

"No," Bean replies, "I'm out here 'cos I can't eat another bite! I didn't know you could be this full."

Caroline laughs. "Yeah, the adults have been stockpiling for weeks, it looks like... I guess everyone was really looking forward to it — or, well, I guess that's what it is."

Flower gazes over at the gaggle of adults. Carmina recognizes her dreamy smile from the way her mom looks around the house sometimes, like she's getting a new, better look at the place.

"It feels like things are starting to look up," she says. "Maybe they can all be happier now."

"Hey, don't jinx it!" Tom-or-Matt laughs.

Bean looks around at the rest of them and for a second, Carmina is worried he's going to ask more about John and restart the whole ugly conversation. Thankfully, it looks like he's still a baby, so he's quickly distracted.

"So, what do we do now?" he asks, pushing his too-big glasses up his nose.

Carmina has never actually played with other kids before, so she doesn't have any good suggestions — especially when shooting is off-limits. Thankfully, she isn't the only one. The teenagers don't know where their soccer ball went, and Luke says he doesn't even know what soccer is. Bean says he usually plays word games by himself. When Tom-or-Matt suggests they play something called "capture the flag," it manages to make its way to the top of the list just because Jason and Caroline have both heard of it before.

Well, at least something is better than nothing. The older kids explain how capture the flag works, using Jason's shirt for their team's flag while the other kids band together around Matt-or-Tom's sweaty tank top. Carmina imagines that one of them should sit out for even teams, but the older kids seem confident that they can handle it. Too confident, in Carmina's opinion — maybe they need to be brought down a peg.

Capture the flag turns out to be more fun than Carmina had expected — and a lot harder, too. Trying to outmaneuver the older kids is tough work, but she and Tom-or-Matt figure out how to flank them pretty quick. There's nothing better than the moment when Carmina manages to dive out of the way when Jason tries to tackle her, and even if she gets dog-piled by Flower halfway back to Bean at home base, she holds Jason's shirt up for another teammate to take.

Unfortunately, the game ends without a winner as a sharp whistle pierces the air. Bean looks up and shouts, "That's my dad! I better go!"

He runs off at full tilt without so much as a goodbye, and Carmina has to squint against the setting sun to watch him go. She hadn't realized how late it had gotten.

"I should probably get going, too," Luke says, sweaty and almost smiling for once. "I want to get another plate of food before we go home."

"Ugh," Carmina sighs, "And the chickens need feeding."

"Just make John do it," Matt-or-Tom says, apparently not learning his lesson about mentioning John.

"It's supposed to be my job," she says. "And anyway, he already feeds them in the morning when I don't get up in time."

"They're gonna like him more than you," Tom-or-Matt laughs.

Jason frowns. "He feeds your chickens?"

"I mean... yeah. He does whatever we need him to." Carmina shrugs, glancing back towards the church. She hasn't seen Jerome or John leave — maybe she should go see them before she rounds up her parents? Nah, it's better to leave them alone until the very last minute.

"Just... didn't think you'd let him near livestock, that's all."

"What's he gonna do, poison the eggs?" Carmina huffs. "He's good with them. I think he likes them 'cos they aren't judgey."

Caroline frowns, which tells Carmina she might've been a little rude. But Jason's been rude about John all day, so she's not going to feel sorry about it!

"Well, I guess if your parents trust him..."

"Sure they do," Carmina replies, even if that's not... exactly right. She knows her parents trust John enough to help around the house, but she thinks they only want to trust him with all the other stuff.

"I really better go," she says, pointing towards town.

"Sure," Flower says. "It was nice to meet you, Carmina."

Carmina gives them her best grin, relieved when it's returned from the others. Jason even waves like there's no hard feelings. "It was nice meeting you guys," she says.

"Happy birthday again!" Matt-or-Tom says, "And be careful!"

"Yeah," his brother laughs, "Wouldn't want to have a glowing deer attack you in the outhouse tonight!"

Carmina laughs away the dumb attempt to scare her, waving goodbye before turning to head for the party. Halfway there, she glances over her shoulder and sees the group turned back to one-another in conversation. None of them are looking back, but as she continues on, she's chased by an unfamiliar sense of discomfort. She can't help but wonder if they're still talking about John in the church.... If they're talking about her.

At least she can distract herself while looking for her parents. There are plenty of adults who say hello; some of them even point her helpfully towards her mom's last known location, or towards the table with the cookies her dad really liked. Some of them check in to make sure her birthday has been going well, too, which is nice of them, but a lot of adults are pretty drunk and deep in their own conversations.

She eventually finds her mom and dad standing around a grill with Marjorie, one of the adults in charge around town. Carmina's met her a couple of times. She's nice, but she can talk a lot. There's no telling how long they've been talking for, and if Carmina doesn't interrupt, who knows when they'll finish. While she could probably grab some food for the road, first she has to make sure that they're actually going to be leaving sometime before the next Collapse.

Besides, it looks like her dad's already got a box of leftovers in his hands. If Carmina wants to eat, she's going to have to interrupt.

"Hey dad," she says as she comes up to them, "The chickens are going to need dinner soon."

Her dad grins at her before handing over the squat, open cardboard box. There's chicken, ribs, corn and roasted potatoes, and even a handful of cookies and flatbread; it takes everything in Carmina's power not to make a desperate grab for more food. She doesn't have to worry about going hungry tonight, so there's no need to eat everything put in front of her.

"Here," he tells her, "You take this, alright? My arms are gettin' tired."

Yeah, right. As soon as she takes the box, he uses one of those tired arms to grab one of the ribs. When Carmina frowns suspiciously at him, her dad only shrugs.

"I coughed on it."

"Uh-huh..."

Laughing, her mom reaches out to give Marjorie a hug. It might've run a little long, but her mom obviously enjoyed the talk. "We'll be back in a week or two with the tractor parts," she says. "You're going to get the fields back in shape in no time."

"Already got a good start," Marjorie replies. She shoots Carmina a warm smile. "Happy birthday, by the way! Don't think I got to see you much. Hope those kids weren't giving you a hard time."

"No," Carmina replies., "They're all really nice. We want to practice shooting together, maybe have a contest. Jason said he's better than anybody else."

"I bet you're gonna give him a run for his money!" Marjorie laughs. "Well, the better a shot you are, the better off you'll be. You won't see anybody here stop you kids."

"Yeah, but tonight, I have to feed the chickens," Carmina says, just in case her parents need another chance to get out of here.

"We've got a few other people to say goodbye to," her mom tells her. "Why don't you take the food back to the truck? We'll meet you there."

"Should I get John, too?"

As soon as she asks, Carmina decides she probably shouldn't have brought it up. Too late, though; by the look on Marjorie's face, there's no way to pretend she didn't hear it.

Her dad shrugs. "Probably oughta," he tells her, as if he doesn't see Marjorie staring at them like she is.

Marjorie definitely doesn't like that, judging by the way she squints, but she doesn't say anything about it. "Well, I hope you had a decent enough birthday for once," she says, "Hopefully we'll be having a party around this time every year from now on."

"That would be nice," mom says.

"Just you wait, we're gonna turn this ship around one way or another." Marjorie gestures with her hands and says, "Alright, you better go, before those chickens of yours eat each other."

Carmina frowns. "They don't do that, do they?"

"Uh, let's get moving," her dad says. "See you soon, Marg."

"Take care!"

Her mom and dad have to stop a few more times to say goodbye to people Carmina doesn't know, but she pushes on without them and nobody stops her for more than a quick birthday greeting. She catches sight of Luke packing up some food with his parents, but he's too distracted to notice her. At least she isn't the only one carrying a box of leftovers out of here; it would feel selfish of her if they weren't sending leftovers home with other people.

Her parents haven't caught up with her by the time she reaches the truck, and John is nowhere to be seen. She figures he's probably still in the church — he and Pastor Jerome always take forever when they're talking. They'll probably be there until dad goes in and breaks them up.

Eating by herself in the back of the truck doesn't feel right, especially not within walking distance of the church. Leaving the food tucked in the corner by the cab, Carmina heads for the building herself. Even if nobody was in there, she'd probably go wander inside for a few minutes; it's a comforting, quiet place in the dry, dusty town. But right now, she's pretty sure John is hanging around inside, and he probably hasn't eaten anything all day, either. She should at least let him have first pick.

She knows a lot of the adults dislike the church, but Carmina personally enjoys how its sun-bleached siding stands out against the sky. Besides the house, the church is one of the few places Carmina wishes she could have seen in one piece. She's seen old, faded pictures from ancient newspaper clippings, but it's just not the same.

The doors are open wide enough for Carmina to slip in without a sound. The air inside is cool, almost chilly, and it smells like dirt and grass. From the entrance, there's only a narrow gap keeping Jerome and John out of sight. She doesn't mean to hide, but she doesn't want to interrupt Jerome mid-sentence...

It's too late, she's eavesdropping.

"It might not be much, but it's something," Jerome's saying. "He even stayed a few nights, when the wind got bad and brought too much pollen over the river."

"It would be better for everyone if he stayed here permanently," John replies. "Wallace went further down the path than the rest of them, and they clearly don't know what they're doing."

"They're trying, John. And we don't have a say in the matter. It's got to be his choice. Remember?"

John grunts, clearly annoyed. Carmina doesn't think she's ever heard him say so much before. Does he talk to her mom and dad this much? Is he really only quiet around her?

"I don't like it," John says.

"For what it's worth, neither do I. But Sharky's taking things seriously — they all are. You're going to have to trust them."

"Trust isn't exactly one of my virtues," John grumpily admits.

Jerome chuckles. "You just need practice."

Well, Carmina definitely feels guilty now. She had only been waiting for an opening, but if she waits any longer, she's really going to be breaking John's trust. Pastor Jerome's, too, for that matter.

Thinking on her toes, Carmina pushes on the already open door as though she's just showing up. Of course, the hinges squeal in protest as soon as she does, so she stops before she breaks something.

"Are you guys still in here?" she calls. She's pretty convincing about it, in her opinion.

"Yes, Carmina," Jerome responds, apparently none-the-wiser, "We're here."

John regards her neutrally as she steps into view, but he's always wearing his poker face around her. She needs to get better at reading it.

"I guess it's time to go, then," he says.

"Yeah. Um — I mean, I can meet you back at the truck. Mom and dad will be here soon..."

Jerome speaks up before John can get the chance. "No, you two go on. I think we were just about done ourselves, and I'd like to sit here for a little while, before it gets too dark." He and John shake hands, and then he comes over to give Carmina a hug. "Happy birthday," he tells her. "You be good for another year, alright?"

"I'll try," she says.

"That'a girl," Jerome laughs. "Keep an eye on her, John."

Sometimes, it seems like Jerome is the only adult in Hope County that doesn't think John is a bad influence on her. Even her mom and dad, who are basically the only people on John's side, get uncomfortable if she tries to talk to him too much. But Jerome is a special case. He used to be weird about anything John-related, but nowadays? Honestly, Carmina's pretty sure he's John's only friend at this point — well, okay, other than mom and dad, but they don't count.

John waits until they've left the church to speak. He's chilly and dismissive, as usual.

"How long were you listening for?"

"I wasn't," Carmina begins — but she can't lie to him. Lying only ever makes things worse. So she corrects herself reluctantly and admits, "It was only a minute. I didn't mean to... it just sort of happened."

"Hm."

Normally, Carmina can't get a read on John's poker face, but... huh. She can't help but feel like she might've... hurt his feelings? She definitely wasn't being trustworthy, that's for sure. And now he's trying to casually out-pace her on the walk back to the truck.

"I'm sorry for eavesdropping," she says, picking up her pace to match his. "I promise, I won't do it again."

John glares at her, but she's pretty sure he's not angry. Maybe just confused? She's not sure, he's never looked at her longer than two seconds before.

"I... appreciate it," he replies instead, which makes it the first time he's ever accepted an apology of hers. Usually, he just tells her not to worry about it.

Carmina grins at him, but he's already looked away, so of course he doesn't see it. Instead, he looks to the field, where the three teens from town are still hanging out. Carmina can't tell if they're looking this way or not. She sure hopes they aren't; John would know immediately that they gossiped about him, and she's already messed up with him once today.

"Have you ever played capture the flag?" she asks, hoping to distract him. "The chicken brothers taught us the rules but I think they maybe made some of it up."

John cracks a small smile. Well, Carmina will pretend it's one, anyway.

"The chicken brothers," he repeats.

"You know, Tommy and Matt."

"Do they know that's what you call them?"

"I mean, I've never said it to their faces..."

"That's probably smart."

They reach the truck, which marks the invisible barrier that keeps John out of town. Of course, mom and dad still aren't here. If Carmina climbed up on top of the truck, she might be able to spot them, but it's not like she could get their attention from this far away. So, she's going to have to kill time until they get back.

"Did you eat?" she asks, climbing up into the truck bed.

"I'm fine, Carmina," John replies, a little wearily. Like she's not the first person to bug him about it today — or, maybe like he lacks energy from not eating all day.

She rolls her eyes, but John doesn't see. "Uh-huh." She sits down, pulling the box of food into her lap as she leans back against the cab. "Dad was surprised that there were cookies. Um, not exactly the same, I guess? But still really good." She's not going to give him a chance to turn it down, grabbing one and shoving it in his direction. "Here, try one!"

John, leaning against the side of the truck like he is, is clearly more interested in looking for her parents than humoring her. He definitely looks like he wants to say no. But to her surprise, he actually takes the offered food. It would be weird to stare at him while he eats, so she goes back to debating between a chicken leg or one of the last ribs in the box.

"Not bad," John comments, which is like, crazy, because Carmina definitely isn't goading him into talking.

"They're kind of crumbly," Carmina says, "I dunno if that's what it's supposed to be like. But all the food is really good." She counts the chicken legs out again, just to make sure there's one for each of them. "Um... hey, John? Uh... do chickens eat each other?"

John frowns, chewing the question over with the rest of the cookie. He swallows, then says, "Most animals cannibalize their own if they're desperate enough."

"Oh."

"They would need to be left alone for a lot longer than a few hours," he points out. "Or they would have to be sick. It's more likely a dog will get them before they turn on each other."

Well, at least Carmina can trust John to tell her the truth, even if it's probably not the way her parents would want him to do it. She doesn't even mind him being so blunt about it, either; she's just surprised he's willing to talk to her. She can't help but wonder if this is going to be a normal thing, now that she's ten — is he going to stop being so weird around her? Or is this just a special treat, because of the day? She sure hopes not. It'd be a lot less awkward if John didn't act so scared of her all the time.

Her parents finally join them at the truck. Her mom wrinkles her nose at Carmina sitting in the back again, but she doesn't say anything. Her dad doesn't seem to mind; once he spots the box in Carmina's lap, he reaches over to grab one of the shortbread cookies for himself.

"Sorry about that," he says, "We got held up a couple times. John, you try one of these yet?"

"I did."

"Crazy having home-baked goods again, right?" Her dad waggles the cookie in John's face; John rolls his eyes and circles back around to the tailgate, climbing up into the bed. "Here, Carmina, give me that box so the food doesn't get too cold on the way home."

"You're just gonna eat everything," Carmina objects, handing over the box anyway.

"Nah, come on. Here, you guys grab something for the ride home." He nudges Carmina's shoulder with the box. "You probably worked up an appetite bullying all the older kids out there — and I bet you didn't eat much of anything, either," he adds in John's direction.

"I had a cookie, didn't I?"

"Yeah, I'll bet nobody forced you into it, either."

Carmina grins as her dad winks at her. Her mom rolls her eyes, but doesn't keep dad from bullying John a little. "Grab something so we can get going," she tells John, "And make sure she doesn't stand up once we're in drive."

John reluctantly takes a towel-wrapped ear of corn and a single rib, while Carmina goes right for that piece of chicken she'd been eying from the start. That helps her make peace with sitting safely, at least this one time. Next year, she's definitely going to get to ride in back by herself, she can feel it, and she is going to do it standing up!

As Carmina watches the town shrink behind them, she congratulates herself on another successful birthday. It'd been better than she'd expected — she was a little uncomfortable around so many people at first, but now she's pretty sure she can say she's made some friends? And seeing the town full of food and laughter and music... It had been sort of what Carmina imagines Fall's End used to be like. Her parents probably wouldn't agree, but maybe that's okay. Maybe when she's older, she can try and prove to them that things can be just as good as they used to be — even if it's a different kind of good.

#far cry 5 #fc5 #fcnd #new dawn #john seed #nick rye #kim rye #carmina rye #far cry fanfic #my fic

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merakisnotavailable · 3 years ago

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DELPHINIUM

-By Raechel Hurtis

(Written by Shivangi Singh)

Curtains flew as the warm sunlight and a cool gust of morning breeze came flooding in through the windows and swept across the classroom, it gave Rangana a pleasant brake from the loud hustle and bustle of the school that seems to get ten times louder and chaotic on the mornings when they have exams lying ahead of them, it had turned into a little morning ritual for her to walk into the class every morning making an ardent effort to spot and claim the desk as close to the windows as possible and sit in silence and peace. This was her safe place where she did not have to listen to anybody. She could sit in her own little shell and have long conversations with herself, she did have a lot of thinking to do considering the fact that she had to decide what she was going to do with her life -profession wise, in about four months before the board exams got over and she'd have to pick!

She had had this conversation with her parents over and over again over the span of the past few weeks each time ending up more confused than she was to begin with. Rangana was a perfectionist who feared walking the wrong path in life, she was calm, analytical and scored decent grades which left her with a pool of reasonable choices to make for a major in college and the fact that she was a budding artist with a talent in sculpture, the already large pool became uncomfortably packed with choices for her.

Rangana dealt with the shackles of inner conflict constricting her heart as she felt torn between her will and what was more of a practical career choice for her in her families' opinion. The stress for making the right choice combined with the pressure to do well in the finals eating up at her; Snapping her right off of the fated train of thought that every Indian high schooler gets on and off all the time is a girl who has very easily made it to the list of Rangana's closest and most irreplaceable friends, Ella.

Ella is a person who comes off as someone cold, quiet, composed and almost tired when you look at her from afar but as you get to know her you gradually realize that she is actually very sympathetic and compassionate, she's sincere in her every word, she is mature for her age and there's a good reason why, she is a year older than Rangana which means she used to be a year ahead of her but she was still in school because she flunked eleventh standard.

Ella was a phenomenal painter, she was gifted at acrylic painting, however, she was unfortunately not so gifted when it came to academics, and her having to repeat a class pushed her parents to snatch away the art supplies from her hands only for them to be replaced by books and pens. This was the right thing to do in the opinion of her elders but it was a devastating change for Ella who couldn't seem to focus on or memorize anything no matter what she did. She had every tell tale sign of a learning disorder but her parents decided to turn a blind eye to it rather than taking her for therapy, they instead took away the one thing she felt she was good at, she is a strong girl though, despite of all of her problems, she never fails to smile or crack jokes and lighten up the mood during classes and most importantly, she gives amazing advice.

The hint of a smile ghosted Rangana's lips as she thought back to the day she first saw Ella, and how they were as different from each other back then as they are today, it was the first day of school as an eleventh grader for Rangana and she along with all the rest of the students was filled with the "new year new class motivation", she was intently listening to the teachers coming into the class one after another only to talk about the same thing, how "they were not kids anymore" and how "they will need to focus on studies now if they want to become anything in the future", Rangana turned in her seat in order to stretch her back only to be met with a very tired looking Ella who seemed to be getting bored out of her wits as if she would roll her eyes at whatever the teacher was saying at any moment now.

That was it! Rangana turned back and thought to herself how she would never get along with someone like that, little did she know they'd become the best of friends and end up sitting together for three and a half semesters straight. Despite of being each other's polar opposites; the girls bonded over the love that they shared for art, the desperation to be understood and the longing for the right to make their own choices in life without having to fear the sight of the disappointed faces of their families.

It's the thing with most of the aspiring Indian artists and the undying duality that they are constantly pressurized to put up with because they fear the loss of the creative aspect of their life if they fail to do a good job at the "practical things" that drives most of them to quit it altogether. While pressurizing them to have a backup plan in case if they fail, have we ever thought that it might not be healthy to presume the probability of their success based on their interests alone?

The likeliness of a student pursuing a career in engineering or medical based courses to excel is probably the same as that of a student studying a creative discipline.

And as far as our female protagonists are concerned, they will carry on with their journeys on the more "practical" career paths for college feeling like outsiders in their disciplines but their talent will seem to catch up to them wherever they go no matter how fast they run, they will keep being misfits until they decide to either shut their inner calling off completely or embrace it, and after all the ups and downs they will find the place where they truly belong.

Every aspiring youth in India is comparable to a WILD FLOWER; that gets trampled on and crushed, nobody waters it and no one seems to take care of it but it still blooms every single year without fail.

DELPHINIUM; a flower that symbolizes Strong Attachment.

Here it is!! My first short story! It gives me immense pleasure to be sharing this with all my readers, A big shoutout to my girl Raechel for helping me get started!

Please make sure to leave your suggestions and encouragement in the form of a comment, Share this post with your friends and family if you found it useful, hit follow and feel free to leave a prompt for my next short story!!

Check out my blog;

https://merakisnotavailable.blogspot.com/?m=1

#short story #moodboard #black and white #blogger #ghost writer #writing #female writers #writers on tumblr #writersmonth2021 #high school au

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lushjin · 5 years ago

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Young & Free|

Masterlist

Genre/Warnings: Smut & angst. Multiple sex scenes, creampie, fingering, oral (male & female receiving), violence, drinking, use of drugs, gambling,& alludes to gang activity.

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Word Count: 15k

Summary: You live in a perfect little bubble, sheltered from the rest of the world. Your life seems to change when you meet a mysterious guy on the bad side of town.

The party had started long ago, but somehow you were still here babysitting your best friend. You loved her, but you weren’t sure if it was worth going to a party on this side of town. Especially since you had to watch her like a hawk the whole time. Maybe if you’d just gone to the club by campus, you wouldn’t need to keep such a close eye on her.

“You’re being a party pooper y/n,” Eunji slurs before taking another gulp of her drink.

“I’m not being a party pooper. I'm just tired. Can we please go home now?”

“Don’t be a bore, be a whore!” She starts chanting, and the group nearby joins in. You feel your cheeks heat up immediately. It takes everything in you to not dump her ass and go home.

“Eunji, please. You’ve had enough to drink.” You plead. You attempt to take away her red solo cup, but she smacks your hand away.

“Fine,” you huff. You’ve had enough, and you weren’t just going to leave Eunji at the party, but you definitely needed some fresh air. “I’ll be back.” You yell into Eunji’s ear over the loud music. She just gestures for you to go. You really wish you would have never come out.

When you go outside, the cold wind hits you. Fall is coming soon. You should’ve dressed a bit warmer, but usually, modesty isn’t your choice when you go out.

You lean against the wall of the house, your back pressing into the cold bricks. You take out your phone to check if you have any missed messages.

Lisa: hey I missed you tonight

where did you guys go?

Usually Saturday nights, you went clubbing with your roommates, but for some reason tonight, you agreed to go to a house party on the other side of town.

You: party on the Southside

Lisa: omg pls be careful!

Your roommate was right to worry. The crime rate was a lot higher on the Southside, and it was just a sketchy place in general. Before you can respond to Lisa, you’re distracted by a noise you hear. It sounds like leaves crunching, and it’s too dark to see anybody. Your heart starts to race as you notice a figure moving towards you. Run run! You think, but your body stays frozen. You really hope this isn’t how you die. You’ve heard so many horror stories about the Southside. Your mind starts to think of every bad scenario that could possibly happen.

Suddenly the figure comes closer to your line of vision. Still, you cannot make out the face, but you can tell it’s a man. You gasp when he moves closer to you.

“Did I scare you?” The figure says in a deep voice. Finally, you are able to see the face of the man that stands in front of you now.

Even in the dark, his features are sharp. His dark curly hair covers his eyes. He takes a cigarette between his lips and then proceeds to light it.

“Uh— kinda.” You finally say after you take a moment to realize what just happened. Which was actually nothing. You’re sure you look like a fool, but still, you feel uneasy in his presence.

“Sorry.” He takes a drag of the cigarette, turning his head to the side before blowing out a cloud of smoke.

“I guess you’re not from around here.” He speaks again.

“No.” You admit you’re not even sure why you’re still here talking to him. You should be back inside where your Eunji is.

“Northside girl?”

“How’d you know?”

“Just a hunch.” He shrugs before taking another hit. “So, what's a Northside girl like you doing over here?” He blows out smoke again.

“Why wouldn’t I be here?” You try to sound as strong and confident as you can. Not letting your voice waver.

“Usually pretty uptight girls like you don’t hang out places like this.”

“You don’t know me.” You defend annoyed by his comments.

“Right, so let me guess. You’re here because you wanna rebel, huh?” He asks condescendingly. He eyes you up and down, and you can feel his gaze burn right through you.

“You’re wrong. I’m only here because my friend invited me.”

“Ah, so she’s the one who wants to rebel. You’re just the one who came along. Am I right?”

“I guess.”

“Well, if I were you, I wouldn’t hang out here alone.” He takes another drag of his cigarette. Then steps on it to finally put it out. “You’re lucky, it’s just me. Any other guy would’ve seen this as an opportunity.” He says.

“Uh, I better get going now.” You don’t know how else to get yourself out of this situation.

“Just be careful.” He warns, and you respond with a nod.

You move through the crowd in search of Eunji. There are too many people around, making it difficult for you to find her. It’s such a tight squeeze that you bump into someone. You turn around to apologize, but before you can, the person is quickly snaking their arm around your waist, pulling your back flush against their body. You try to pull away, but their grip becomes tighter.

“Baby, where are you off to in such a rush? Don’t you know it’s rude to run into someone.” He whispers venomously into your ear.

“Let go of me.” You say, struggling to get out of their grip. Their lips ghost your neck, and you pull away even harder.

“Jin Hyung, get off of her.” You hear a familiar deep voice.

“You’re no fun Taehyung, I’m just having a good time right, darling?” The sleazeball asks you. You attempt to pull away again. Your eyes coming in contact with the guy from outside. Taehyung, you guess his name is.

“Let go of her Hyung; she’s mine.” He barks, and suddenly the arms that were tightly wrapped around you let go.

“Boo, you always get all the good ones,” Jin complains, ultimately giving up and moving on.

“Are you ok?” Taehyung asks.

“Yeah— I’m fine.”

“I told you to be careful.” He berates you. “This isn’t a place for a girl like you.” You knew he was right, you didn’t belong here. You needed to find Eunji and get out of here.

“Where’s your friend?” Taehyung asks with a stern look on his face.

“I don’t know, I can’t find her.”

“I’ll help you, then you need to get out of here.” Taehyung offers his assistance.

Twenty minutes later, you find Eunji drunk and unwilling to go home. If it weren’t for Taehyung, you don’t know how you would’ve gotten her out of there. He picks her up and puts her over his shoulder. Once you get outside, he sets her down. You weren’t sure why he was so nice to you, but you were grateful for it. Or else you would’ve never gotten Eunji out of there and in a cab. Before you can thank Taehyung, he’s already gone.

It was a strange night, and you couldn’t wait to go home.

“Eunji, how could you!” You yell at her. Causing your hungover friend to wince. It’s the next day, and Eunji has finally sobered. You're so ready to give her a piece of your mind.

“I’m sorry y/n I didn’t realize I got that drunk.” She lamely apologizes.

“You could’ve gotten rapped, Eunji!!” You exclaim. “We were on the Southside, which is dangerous enough as it is. We should’ve just gone to the club instead.”

“Yeah, but then I wouldn’t have been able to see Jungkook!” Eunji complains.

“If he liked you that much, he would’ve gone to the club with us instead, and not left you at some random party.” Jungkook was one of the few people on campus that was from the Southside. He was stringing Eunji along, but she’s too blinded by love to see it.

“I wanted to go, I didn’t think he would just leave me.” You can see the tears welling up in her eyes as she speaks. “I’m sorry, y/n.” She lowers her head in shame.

“It’s okay.” You forgive her bringing her in for a hug. She should’ve never gotten involved with Jungkook. Dating a Southsider was just asking for trouble. Her tears stream down her face as she lets you envelop her in a hug.

A few days later, you’re walking to your class. When you notice Jungkook. You hadn’t seen him since that fateful night. He leans against his pickup truck with some girl pressed up against him. Of course, he was seeing someone else. How typical. You stare at them from a distance. Watching carefully as Jungkook stuck his tongue down her throat.

If you were more confident, you’d go tell him off, but who are you kidding? He’s a Southsider, you’d never build the courage up to tell him off. So instead you keep walking. Hoping he doesn’t notice as you pass by.

“So, I thought we could wear matching costumes!” Your roommate Yara suggests. You sit at the table surrounded by your roommates. You pick at your salad tossing the leafy greens around with your fork. You’d much rather be eating with something carbs, but Lisa is on a new health kick.

“Yeah!” Eunji and Lisa agree in unison.

“What do you say, y/n?” Eunji asks, looking at you from across the table. The other girls look at you expectantly.

“Um— sure,” you agree.

The three girls share a look before looking back at you. “Is everything ok, y/n?” Yara asks.

“Just tired is all.” You lie. The truth was all your mind could think of was Jungkook with that other girl. You went back and forth with yourself, deciding if it was the right thing to tell Eunji. You were conflicted, and this information you acquired was eating you up.

“Oh well, maybe you should get to bed early and get some rest. Then tomorrow we can go shopping for the Halloween party!” Yara smiles at you, patting your arm. She picks up your plate for you and takes it to the sink.

You bid the girls goodnight, and you're off to bed. Sometime around 2am you wake up from a nightmare. It was a normal thing you experienced. You didn’t want to be alone, and usually, when you had nightmares, you always went to Eunji’s room. Vice versa.

You pad down the dark hallway towards Eunji’s room. You see the light glow from the cracks of her door, which tells you she’s awake. It’s strange for her to be up at this time. Maybe she’s cramming for a test, you think. You have second thoughts about going in, but you decide to anyway.

You push the door open, and you poke your head in the room. Before you can make out the scene before you in the dim lighting, you hear strange noises, like panting. Your mind doesn’t register it right away, so you stay put. Finally, your eyes land on your roommate's bed, and what you see causes you to shriek. Jungkook balls deep in your friend. His hips that were pounding mercilessly came to a sudden halt. Your friend looks over Jungkook’s shoulder in horror.

“Get out!” Eunji yells at you, and you are quick to leave her room. Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment as you run back to your room.

“Holy shit.” You say to yourself as you enter your room. You wish you would’ve gone with your gut feeling and didn’t go in. Now the image of Jungkook fucking your best friend was forever imprinted in your mind.

The next day you wake up with a headache from lack of sleep. After that incident last night, you couldn’t coax yourself to sleep for a while. Getting a grand total of 3 hours of sleep. You start to get ready for class dressing in comfortable high waisted loose-fitting jeans, and an oversized shirt that you tucked in at the front. You grab your bag and head out the door.

Once you’re home later, you’re plopping yourself onto the couch. Kicking off your shoes messily. Which you know Yara will be on your ass about later. But right now, you could care less. All you cared about was sleep. You didn’t even have the strength to go to your bed. You shut your eyes and fall fast asleep.

“Y/n,” you hear a voice call out to you. You feel them shake your body.

“Mmm, five more minutes.” Your groan sleepily with your eyes still closed.

“Y/n, wake up. You fell asleep on the couch. It’s like 8pm.” You recognize the voice to belong to Eunji. You open your eyes finally, squinting until your eyes adjust to the light.

“Wow, I didn’t think I’d pass out for that long.” You say as you sit up.

“It’s ok, you needed the rest anyway,” Eunji speaks purposefully avoiding eye contact.

“Are things weird now?” You ask your friend, and she finally looks at you.

“I don’t know, are they?”

You sigh because you know what you have to tell her. “Eunji—,” you start off and pause for a moment, thinking of how to word this. “I saw Jungkook the other day with another girl.” You hold your breath waiting for her response.

“Oh,” she frowned furrowing her eyebrows. She takes a second before she speaks. “When?” She questions.

“Yesterday.” She deflates at your answer. He had been with someone the same day he was with her. You knew it had to hurt, and you felt so sorry for her. You reach out to squeeze her hand, and she pulls away. “Eunji?” You call out her name, confused as to why she’s looking at you like she’s upset with you.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She spits. Her back straightens, and her arms cross in front of her chest.

“I-I didn’t have a chance to.” You admit.

“Really?” She scoffs. “Y/n, you could’ve saved me the pain of sleeping with him if you just would’ve told me straight away.”

“I’m sorry, Eunji. I didn’t know what to do.”

She frowns and shakes her head. “I’m sorry y/n I’m taking out my anger on the wrong person.”

“It’s ok, babe.” You forgive her and go in for a hug.

“So, what should we be?” Lisa asks as you walk through the mall. The Halloween party was in two days, and you hadn’t chosen your costumes yet.

“I don’t get why we have to dress up,” Eunji complains.

“Because it’s fun!” Yara says, not convincing anyone. The only reason you all dressed up for Halloween was for her.

“Well, I think we should be something unconventional.” You suggest as you walk into the costume store.

“So, not slutty bunnies?” Lisa asks as if that was actually going to be her suggestion.

“Hmm,” Yara pauses to browse the racks. “How about slutty nun?!” She suggests as she picks out a skimpy black nun dress from the rack.

“Ooh ya, and we can pair it with fishnet stockings!” Lisa says, pleased with her idea.

“Is this really what you guys want to go as?” You ask, not too convinced with the idea of doing a slutty theme.

“Oh c’mon y/n, it will be fun! We’ll actually be sisters!!” Yara exclaims.

Ultimately you agree on being a slutty nun. You go ahead and purchase your costume. The outfit itself consists of a short, skin-tight black dress. Paired with fishnet stockings, a nun headdress, and a gold cross necklace.

Two days later you’re in your bedroom getting dressed for the party. You pull up the tight dress over your hips, and you hope it zips.

“Yara!” You call for your roommate, and she comes straight away. “Can you help me, zip?” You ask.

“Of course!” She sings happily, helping you pull the dress up the rest of the way. She clutches onto it before pulling the zipper up. “Perfect! You look so hot!”

“Thanks,” you say, and you don’t know why but you blush at her compliment.

“I’m gonna go finish getting ready,” Yara says, and she’s on her way out of your room.

You finish getting ready, applying some makeup, and adding on your accessories. You take a look at yourself in the mirror, and you have to admit you do look hot. You smooth your dress over one more time before grabbing your purse. You wait in the living area until the rest of the girls are ready.

“So, where is this party anyway?” You ask as you stand on the curb waiting for your Uber to arrive. It’s already starting to get cold, and you begin to shiver. Maybe you should’ve brought a jacket. Oh well, hopefully, you’ll warm up soon.

“Uh, I don’t know, actually. I think it’s actually close to the south side.” Lisa says as she stares at the maps app on her phone.

“Why the hell would the party be all the way down there?” Yara asks, she’s nervous as ever.

“I guess they couldn’t find anywhere else to throw it at.” Lisa shrugs, and Yara just sighs.

“Well, let’s be safe!” Yara exclaims. “And let’s not get too wasted.” She says, and you all look at Eunji.

“Hey!” She frowns. “It was only a couple times!” Eunji swears.

“Sure,” the rest of you say in unison.

Soon the Uber is picking you up. The guy seems a bit shady. He eyes you guys up and down. Probably his dream come true, a car full of slutty nuns.

“Be safe.” He comments as you guys step out of the car, and you don’t miss the way his eyes linger. You shiver in disgust.

“What a creep,” Eunji whispers as if the man could still hear her.

The house is huge but a bit run down. You enter holding hands with Eunji as Yara and Lisa lead the way.

“If we split up at some point, let’s agree to meet at the front of the house at 1am,” Yara says. She’s usually the more responsible one. You could say she’s the mother of the group.

“Isn’t that too early?” Eunji complains. Sure Eunji seemed like a sweet girl, but man did she like to party. She went harder than the rest of you usually did. Nevertheless, you still agree on meeting at 1am.

Soon the house starts to fill up more. Pretty much half of the school was at this party. While the other half was at some Halloween party at a fraternity back on campus. After freshman year. You all agreed that you’d never go back to a frat party ever again.

You have a few drinks, and soon enough, you’re feeling good. The bass booms through your body as you dance up against Eunji. There’s something in the air that seems to shift. Everyone who was dancing happily and drunk suddenly comes to a halt. Your body is still pressed close to Eunji. You turn to look over your shoulder, and that’s when you notice the familiar dark curly locks, and you realize it’s the guy from the other night. Taehyung was his name, you think. His gaze penetrates right through you. Everyone stares at his group as they walk into the house. The crowd backing up as the head deeper into the house.

“Hey, who invited south siders?” You hear a voice yell from across the room. Quickly your body tenses, and you stay close to Eunji. The music lowers, and everything goes radio silent.

When Jungkook appears from behind the group, that’s when the party goes back to normal. Jungkook and a few other Southsiders were the only ones really welcomed by your classmates. When Eunji notices Jungkook, she’s leaving your side. With a weak apology. Of course, you think. She must be a masochist to go back to Jungkook.

Soon the rest of the Southsiders start to disperse heading to different areas of the house, but not Taehyung. Instead, he strides over to you. You reel with anticipation as he slowly makes his way towards you.

It was now that you actually took the time to really look at him. He’s gorgeous, his features are sharp, his eyes are big and brown, and they gloss over. And currently, they gape at you. He’s watching you as you start to move your body again dancing to the rhythm of the music. Your hips sway from side to side, and your hands move touching all over your body.

He doesn’t greet you when he reaches you. His body is close but not close enough to touch you. He leans into you. “And what are you supposed to be?” He asks his voice low and gravelly. Sending shivers throughout your body.

It was pretty obvious what you were. At least, so you thought. Either way, you tell him. “A nun.” You say breathlessly, and he just smirks.

Taehyung was reluctant to go to this party in the first place. He knew Northsiders threw lame parties anyway, it just wasn’t his scene.

“C’mon Tae, it’ll be fun. We’ll score some pristine virgin pussy.” Hoseok said as playfully smacked his younger friend with the back of his hand. Maybe getting virgin pussy was enough for him to agree to go. He wanted something different. So why not go to a party on the north side?

“I see,” Taehyung says, as his eyes pierce through you. He eyes you like a dog eyed a piece of meat. Like he could devour you in any second. That look made your core throb.

Taehyung isn’t much of a dancer, and to be honest, he’d much rather get you alone. He leans in closer his lips, ghosting your ear. “I’m going for a smoke.” He insinuates and that’s all he needs to say for you to follow him outside.

“So, what are you doing at a party like this?” Oh, how the tables had turned, you thought. You felt confident, especially now that you were on your own turf. You both sit on the worn-out patio furniture that you found in the backyard.

Taehyung takes out a spliff from his back pocket. “You smoke?” He asks, completely disregarding your question.

“Nah, cigarettes aren’t really my thing.” You say. You tried it once in high school, and you hated the taste.

“This isn’t a regular cig,” he says, taking the bud of the spliff between his lips.

“What is it then?” Taehyung has piqued your interest.

“It’s a weed cigarette.” He proceeds to light it.

You figured that’s what it was when he said it wasn’t a regular cigarette. Weed is something you've never tried before, but it was always something you were curious to try.

“I’ve never smoked weed before.” You sheepishly admit averting his gaze.

“I figured. Wanna try?” He takes the first hit then blows out a big puff of smoke. Unlike the time before he doesn’t move his head to the side. Instead, he blows the smoke directly into your face, and you begin to cough.

“Sorry,” he apologizes lamely. Either way, you accept it. He hands the spliff over to you. You take it between your thumb and your pointer finger. You hold it out in front of your lips, second-guessing on whether or not you should do this.

“Trust me, it’ll feel good.” Taehyung eases your doubts. Without thinking, you take the bud between your lips and take a small drag. Quickly you’re blowing out the smoke your lungs rejected. Causing you to go into a coughing fit.

Taehyung takes the spliff from you and then proceeds to pat your back. “Atta girl.” He watches as your eyes water, and you continue to cough.

“Fuck,” you say when you finally catch your breath.

“That will happen the first few times,” Taehyung tells you before he takes another hit. “But, you did good.” You don’t know why, but you glow at his compliment.

“Want another?” He asks, offering you the cigarette again. You didn’t feel anything yet, and your sure only one hit wasn’t going to do anything. So you agree and take another drag. This time you don’t cough, but you still feel the burn in the back of your throat.

A few more hits, and you’re feeling light. “Maybe this should be your last one.” He says as you take another hit. You were getting addicted to the feeling this high was giving you. “Easy there, tiger.” Taehyung takes the spliff away from you before you can take another hit. “Even if it’s just a spliff, it’s your first time. You have to take it slow, or else it will hit you all at once.”

Taehyung was right suddenly, you feel like you’re floating. All those hits you took finally taking in their full effect. In an attempt to ground yourself, you clutch onto the armrests.

“Feeling ok, there, champ?” Taehyung asks as he finishes off the spliff. He eyes you with a bit of concern. Hoping you’re not one of those types of girls who freak out when they’re high.

For some reason, the nickname irks you. “Don’t call me that. My name is y/n.” You snap still holding onto the armrest as if you’d fly away any second. Your mind starts to race. What kind of weed was this? You thought you were supposed to feel chill when getting high.

“Ok then, sorry y/n, you gonna tell me how you feel?” Taehyung starts to worry now. “You don’t look that good.” He says, and that’s probably not what you want to hear. But you were looking a little uneasy.

“I— I think it’s not working like it’s supposed to.” You say.

“Just relax. C’mon, breathe with me. In.” You both take a deep breath at the same time. “Out.” And then you both exhale. “You just gotta let it happen. Don’t overthink it. Or then you’ll get paranoid.”

You take Taehyung’s advice and try to calm yourself. You close your eyes and focus on your breathing. It seems to work because the anxiety starts to wear off.

“Feeling better?” Taehyung says when he notices, your body start to relax.

“It feels good.” You admit. Suddenly feeling like you’re on cloud nine. Your body is completely calm and heavy. You open your eyes and find Taehyung staring at you. The eyes that were once filled with worry dissipate. He looks at you with hunger in his eyes now.

You don’t realize it, but the way you sit in the chair totally lax. With your legs spread wide, you give him a full view of your cotton panties. He’s high, like hella high, high enough that he might do something stupid. Because man you were hot, and what was sad is that you probably didn’t even know it. Taeyhyung wanted to be the one to show you just how beautiful you really are. What the hell was he thinking? You were nothing but trouble for him. A guy like him didn’t belong with a girl like you. You are actually going somewhere in life. You have a bright future ahead of you. He couldn’t fuck that up for you.

“Taehyung,” you say in almost a moan, and he swears his cock stirs in his pants.

He clears his throat. “Uh- yeah?” You stare at him with hunger in your eyes now. Not so innocent as you seem. He starts to wonder if you were actually sitting like that on purpose.

“It feels so good,” you say in a breathy tone. You were soaring high, and there was no sign of you coming down anytime soon. You gawk at Taehyung as he sits in front of you with his jaw clenched. You could tell he wanted you, by the way his eyes shamelessly raked up and down your body. The dress you wore was skin tight, letting him see all your curves perfectly. You noticed where his eyes would constantly fall, which was between your legs. You’d be lying if you said you were unaware of the way you were sat. You could feel the cool breeze between your legs, but what you really wanted was Taehyung between your legs.

“Taehyung,” you call his name again. Your eyes lock, and you grip the chair harder under his intense gaze.

“Yep?”

“How does it feel like to have sex when you’re high?” You’re not sure what prompts you to ask this. Maybe it’s your inebriated state. Or probably how your panties start to feel damp from just looking at Taehyung.

A low chuckle emits from his throat. He cocks an eyebrow at you as you patiently wait for him to answer. “It feels fucking amazing.” He doesn’t lie. He’s done it countless times before, and every time was good.

Your heart starts to race and your core begins to ache. Your mind vividly starts to picture how sex with Taehyung would feel. You bet he’s big, so big that the stretch would sting a bit. You stare at his crotch now imagining what it would be like if he just took it out right now. Suddenly your legs snap shut your imagination getting to you. The ache is too much and you need any friction you can get, so you squeeze your thighs shamelessly in front of Taehyung. Which is now looking at you with desire in his eyes. He couldn’t believe the scene in front of him. He would have never expected a girl like you would be so turned on by him doing nothing at all. He guesses that’s what weed does to you. Heightens all your senses.

“I wanna know.” You finally say after a few quiet minutes pass by. “I— I wanna know what it feels like.” You admit to him your cheeks flushing, and if it wasn’t for the weed in your system right now, you would’ve never had the balls to say this.

“Feeling brave, aren’t we?” He patronizes you with a smirk on his face. There’s not a bone in Taehyung’s body that doesn’t want to fuck you. You look delicious in front of him, and all he wants is to fuck you until you can’t walk straight, but he can’t. He can’t just get a Northside girl high and fuck her. That’s just asking for trouble. Taehyung leans back in his chair and spreads his legs wide. He’s conflicted about whether or not to play your game. It’s a dangerous one, and he doesn’t want to lose.

Your hope was that Taehyung would show you. That he’d bend you over the glass patio table and fuck you until you felt euphoria.

“I’m just really high and horny.” You confess boldly. God, you really were high. Taehyung chokes on his own spit, not expecting you to go that far. The sweet innocent north side girl was just a facade.

“I can’t help you out there, babe.” Taehyung shuts you down. Ultimately deciding its best not to fuck around with a Northside girl.

“Why not?” Your lips form a pout.

“You’re high, like really high. I just can’t fuck you. It’s not right.”

“But, I’m asking for it, Taehyung.” Your voice is low and whiny. Just the tone he loves to hear. You’re driving him crazy.

If Taehyung wasn’t going to touch you, then you were going to touch yourself. You spread your legs wide again. Your hand dipping in between your thighs. The pads of your fingers run along the fabric of your underwear. Coaxing your arousal out of you. Damping the cotton fabric. You don’t break eye contact with Taehyung the whole time. He wets his lips before pulling them into a smug smile. You in fact were such a dirty girl he thought, and that made him hot all over.

“Fine, c‘mere.” He’s patting his thigh, offering his thigh as your seat. You’re getting up with shaky legs. Your body feels heavy, and you feel like it takes you ages just to walk over to Taehyung. “Face forward.” He instructs. You take a seat on his thigh. Your legs on either side. Your back is towards him, and his arm curls around your waist. He pulls you back closer to him so that your back rests against his chest. “Just relax,” Taehyung says in a soft voice.

Your heart is racing, so you begin to focus on your breathing again. The hand that isn’t wrapped around your waist finds itself between your thighs. His fingers run along your covered slit until he finds the nub that has you sighing. He presses light circles against your clit.

“Is this okay?” Taehyung needs to hear it one more time.

It’s more than okay, you think. “Yes,” you breathe, and he presses harder. You squeeze your eyes shut and focus on the pleasure that seeps through your body as his touch becomes harder.

He was completely right; it feels fucking amazing. If it felt this good just barely being touched, you could only imagine how it would feel with him stuffed inside you. The thought only makes thrust your hips into his touch.

“Ok, calm down now.” He says into your ear. You didn’t realize it, but you were actually thrusting your hips a lot faster than you thought. “I’ll give you what you want,” his promise is enough to soak your panties thoroughly.

His large hand slips underneath your panties. His bare touch on you causes you to shiver. He tests the water by sliding one finger at your weeping entrance.

“Oh god—.” It feels so good you can’t believe how much you’re affected by just one finger entering you.

Once he’s in all the way, he curls his finger, slowly beginning to thrust his finger. “How is it?” Taehyung asks. He couldn’t help but nuzzle into the crook of your neck. Taking in your sweet strawberry scent mixed with sweat.

“So good,” you moan. He’s getting you there quickly. You feel slightly light-headed when his second finger enters you. You grip onto the armrest as Taehyung’s pace quickens. You’re so far gone now, you’re just relishing in the pure pleasure that Taehyung is giving you.

It would be a great lie if Taehyung said he wasn’t affected by you. His cock twitches when your ass accidentally rubs against his crotch. Keep it in your pants Taehyung, keep it in your pants. He kept telling himself. It was so hard considering were complete putty in his hands right now. You’re tight around his fingers, and he can only imagine how your cunt would feel around his dick.

Your head falls back against Taehyung’s shoulder. You gasp out loud when you feel his finger brush against your sweet spot. “Holy shit,” you keen. The pressure between your legs quickly building. It becomes too much, the feeling is overwhelming. Taehyung's fingers are now mercilessly fucking into you, and your hips move unabashedly against his touch.

“Think you can take another?” Taehyung asks his voice low and gruff. All you could do is nod in response. You were in no condition to form proper sentences.

“Greedy girl, aren’t you?” Taehyung goads, but secretly he loves it. Taehyung’s third finger enters you. Slipping in with ease. With each pump of his fingers, you’re getting closer and closer to your release. He can feel your walls tighten, and he can tell you’re close. He moves his fingers rapidly, curling them so that they repeatedly hit your g spot.

“Taehyung!!!” You’re crying out your hand clamps onto his wrist. “Oh shit shit shit,” you bleat. Your walls convulse around Taehyung's delicious fingers.

“Atta girl cum around my fingers like the dirty girl you are.” Taehyung grunts getting lost in you. Without even noticing, he begins to rut his hips against your ass. Desperately seeking any friction, he can get.

The pressure is too much for you to handle. Suddenly it snaps like a rubber band. Pleasure oozing through your whole body. You’ve never come this hard in your entire life. Your chest heaves, and your muscles tense. Your eyes are rolling back, and you struggle to moan. Your hips rut against Taehyung’s hand, milking every last drop of your delicious orgasm. You rut until you can’t no more. Sensitivity quickly takes over, causing you to yank Taehyung’s hand out from between your legs. He opts just to wipe the stickiness on his black jeans.

“I just came, holy shit,” you pant still trying to wrap your mind around what just happened.

“I know,” Taehyung chuckles. He shifts in his seat, his erection becoming uncomfortable against his pants. “Need a minute?” He asks, sitting up straight in the chair. Your body still limp on his.

“Yeah,” you breathe. You attempt to collect yourself, but your body feels even heavier after your orgasm. You are so blissed out that you swear you could fall asleep on Taehyung right now.

Suddenly Taehyung hears footsteps you are still too far gone to even notice. “Uh- hey, we should get going.” He says.

“Can’t move,” you admit, your body slack.

The footsteps get closer, and Taehyung has no choice, but to get you off of him. You stand on your weak legs almost falling over, but Taehyung is quick to catch you.

“Y/n!” Yara calls out to you, her voice laced with worry. When she sees you, she runs up to you, grabbing out of Taehyung’s hold.

“What’s going on here?” Yara questions austerely as she pins Taehyung with a brash look.

Taheyung doesn’t really know how to respond. What was he going to say that he got her friend high and finger fucked until she cried? “We were just hanging.”

“Well, what the fuck is wrong with her?” Yara questions as she holds your wobbly body upright.

Just then, you start to laugh. This whole situation is so funny. If Yara would have come 60 seconds earlier, she would have found you in a very compromising position. For some reason, that makes you laugh.

“She’s high,” Taehyung states the obvious.

“Y/n honey, are you okay?” Yara asks you, cupping your face as she looks into your eyes. Which were completely blown out.

“Just peachy,” you smile brightly, and Yara just sighs.

“Need help?” Taheyung offers because it looks like she might need some help to get you out of here.

“No, I got.” Yara shoots Taehyung a dirty look. And he’s not sure why she’s blaming him for you getting high.

“Sure.” With that, Taehyung’s walking away. Even though a part of him felt like he should stay and help, but it was made very clear that his help wasn’t wanted.

The next morning you wake up with a massive headache, and your mouth feels dry. You lay on your bed, whining in pain. With your eyes still closed, you feel around for your phone until you find it. You peek through one eye to see the time displayed on the LED screen, it reads 2pm. Damn, you had knocked out for a long time. Reluctantly you pull yourself out of bed and head to the bathroom for a warm shower. As you shower pieces of last night, start to come back to you. The memories of Taehyung touching you flood in vividly. Your thighs press together at your thoughts. You begin to crave his touch again. Your fingers ghost where his fingers were just last night. The rest of your shower is spent thinking of Taehyung as you use your memories to get yourself off.

“What was that about last night?” Yara asks as she hands you a sandwich, and your mouth begins to water. You had eaten in hours, and it’s the first time you’ve had carbs in forever.

You take a big bite of the sandwich, washing it down with water before you answer. “Honestly, I don’t know.” You’re not sure what had gotten into you last night. You acted entirely out of character. You weren’t sure how to explain yourself.

“Y/n, you can’t just go around getting high with random guys,” she chastises. You knew she was right, but technically Taehyung wasn’t a completely random person.

“I knew him.” You say, and it’s not entirely a lie. You just didn’t mention just how much you knew him.

“You knew him?” Yara cocks an eyebrow in suspicion.

“Uh- yeah, I met him at a party on the Southside.”

“You what?” Her mouth drops at your revelation. “He’s a Southsider? Y/n, you were hanging alone with a Southsider?!”

“Calm down. He’s not that bad, and you see, I’m fine.” You say nonchalantly.

“You’re fine because I arrived just in time. Y/n, this isn’t like you?” As if she knew who you really were.

“I’m fine because he’s a good guy. You’re just too prejudiced to see it.” That was a bit cold, you have to admit. And you can tell by the look on Yara’s face.

“Whatever.” With that, she’s storming off to her bedroom. Leaving you to finish your food alone.

Jungkook slumps onto the couch. His head falls back as he feels the weed slowly take over. “So, what were you saying?” He asks Taehyung who is currently sitting next to him.

“I said how much do you know about—,” Taehyung pauses, trying hard to remember your name. Not that you weren’t memorable, because you definitely were. He was too far gone that night, and he’s sure you only mentioned it once. “Y/n?” He finally remembers.

“Hmm,” Jungkook hums as he thinks about what he knows about you. It wasn’t much, he knew that you were friends with Eunji, but other than that he knew squat. “Not much, I know she’s Eunji’s friend. She’s a quiet one. She’s never really talked much to me.” Jungkook says, taking another hit of the blunt before passing it to Taehyung. “Why do you ask?”

“I might’ve fingered her at the party last week,” Taehyung admits taking a huge hit, holding it in for a few seconds before exhaling.

“Nice,” Jungkook says, encouraging his friend's sexual encounter.

Taehyung wasn’t sure of what to make out of this situation. After that night he couldn’t forget you. He got off to the thought of you later that night and the days to come. It was like you encapsulated him. His thoughts only consumed of you lately, and he didn’t know why he found you so intriguing. Maybe it was because you were forbidden fruit.

“Want me to set you guys up?” Jungkook asks. His eyes closed, completely high off his ass.

“Nah.” Taehyung didn’t need Jungkook of all people to set him up.

“You sure? Because there’s a party this weekend and you can come with me if you want.” Jungkook offers.

Taehyung mulls the possibility of going to the party. “How do you know she’ll be there?” Taehyung asks.

“If Eunji’s going, then y/n’s going.”

Would he really go to another northside party again just to see you? Or was that too desperate? Taehyung was confused as to why he was feeling this way.

The next time you see Taehyung, it’s a Saturday night. The party is coming to an end, and you’ve been here long enough. Your limbs ache from dancing too much. You’re ready to go home soon. You’re about to collect your friends when you notice that familiar black curly head of hair. Your eyes zero in on his face. He sports a new tattoo on his face that reads “a shadow like me.” You have to admit your stomach leaps when you see him. You were disappointed at the thought of never seeing him again. You never expected him to show up to another northside party.

Naturally, you begin walking towards him. Pushing through the crowd until you’re face to face with him. “What are you doing here?” You breathe, and his hand curls around your neck, bringing you closer to him.

His forehead pressed against yours, and you feel his warm breath on you as he speaks. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He admits, and you hold your breath as you anticipate his next move. His lips crash onto yours, and you finally get to taste him. His lips move feverishly against yours.

You stay like that for a while lips smacking, bodies grinding up against each other, and groping whatever you can get your hands on. The next thing you know, you’re in Taehyung's truck. His hands grazing your cheeks before he pulls you into another kiss. Eventually, you pull away, lungs burning for air. “I wanna make you feel good.” You say in a quiet voice. You look up at him with expectant eyes.

Taehyung stares at your swollen pink lips before answering. “How?” He’s intrigued by your offer.

“Anything,” your voice is shaky. “I just wanna return the favor.” It was only fair, you thought.

Taehyung contemplates whether or not he should or shouldn’t. He’s already gone this far, why not keep going? How is he supposed to deny you? Especially when you look at him through your lashes practically begging to touch him.

Your hands reach over the console, you palm him over his pants. Taehyung watches you with curiosity. You can feel him stiffen under your touch. For effect, you shrug off the straps of your dress off. Revealing your breasts to him. Nipples coming to a perk from the cool air. Taehyung shamelessly stares at your chest. Tent already forming in his pants.

You lean in closer, undoing his jeans. You can see how hard he is through his boxers, the outline of his dick prominent. Impatiently you take his cock out, and he’s rigid under your touch. You’re like a kid on Christmas, anxiously unwrapping your present. When his cock springs free, your eyes widen. He’s just as big as you imagined him to be, and he isn’t completely hard yet.

Your breasts hang low as you hover over Taehyung’s dick. Taehyung watches you intently as spit drivels from your mouth onto his hardening member. You use your saliva as a lubricant. Taking him in your hand and stroking him until he’s firm under your touch.

“You know,” Taehyung breathes hard through his nose. “When I first saw you, I never pegged you for such a dirty girl.” He grits his teeth when you squeeze the tip. “But here you are, spitting on my dick as you salivate over it.” His haughty smile makes your chest fill with pride.

You hold him at the base while your tongue teases the tip. Slowly licking up the prominent vein that bulges. Finally, your lips wrap around the sensitive head, and you begin to suck lightly. Taehyung draws a heavy sigh at the sensation. Slowly you bring as much as you can fit him into your mouth. Your mouth widening before your lips suction a seal, causing Taehyung to hiss. Your head begins to bob up and down. Taehyung doesn’t miss the opportunity to entangle his fingers in your hair, getting a good grip. Things start to get messy soon. Your saliva coating his whole dick, as you taste his bitter pre-cum on your tongue. Your hand is covered in your own spit as you jerk whatever you can’t fit in your mouth. Your wrist working a quick twisting motion.

“Fuck—,” Taehyung says as he tosses his head back against the headrest. He revels in the feeling of your mouth on his cock. “Who taught you to suck dick like that?” He questions with an exaggerated groan. All you can do is hum in response, causing Taehyung’s grip on you to become tighter.

“Shit— I’m gonna cum,” Taehyung warns. You pull away, jerking him with your fist. You look up at him, admiring the way he looks right now. Jaw clenched, eyes screwed shut. When he cums, it’s with a drawn-out groan. “Ahhh—,” he hisses as your hand grips him tighter. His cum spurts everywhere. Painting your face and dribbling down your fist. Taehyung lets out a sigh before looking down at the mess he’s made. God, you look so hot right now with his cum decorating your face. You were driving him crazy.

“Fuck, here you go,” he hands you a T-shirt that he has in his back seat. You use it to wipe off the cum on your face. Taehyung knows he’ll probably regret asking this, but you literally just blew his brains out, it’s the least he could do. “You need a ride home?”

Just then, your phone starts to vibrate. “Actually, it’s my friends. They’re looking for me, but uh, thanks anyway.” Suddenly there’s an awkward pause. Both of you not knowing what to say.

Taehyung can’t believe he’s going to ask you this, but he knows this isn’t the last time he wants to see you. “So uh- there’s this race next Friday night. Do you wanna come?”

Your stomach leaps at his invitation. You didn’t expect him to ask to see you again. And to be honest the thought of not seeing him disappointed you. “Yeah,” you say, trying to sound indifferent. When really you were freaking out inside.

“Cool, Jungkook’s gonna be there, so I’m sure your friend is going too.”

“Right, I’ll just hitch a ride with her.” You say, hoping Eunji's ok with you tagging along.

“Okay, so I’ll see you then.” Taehyung doesn’t understand what’s come over him. He’s usually not this awkward around girls. With that, you’re climbing out of Taehyung’s truck. Going off to find your friends.

As you walk home with Eunji after class a few days later. You try to figure out how to ask her if she’s going to the race. She doesn’t know that you’ve been seeing a Southsider. Although she shouldn’t be one to judge since she’s been dating a Southsider herself. An unfaithful one at that. You start to wonder if you’ll ever get to that point with Taehyung. Or was this just a fling. Was he even interested in you? Or did he just like to mess around?

“Anyways, I was thinking of maybe dropping my Psych class.” Eunji pulls you from your thoughts. She’s probably been babbling this whole time.

“Why?” You ask, pretending you’ve been paying attention.

“I just said, because I’m not sure if that’s the route I wanna take.” Eunji has always been so indecisive. Already changing her major twice.

“Oh, right.” You lie. “So, this weekend, do you have any plans?”

She walks particularly fast, and she doesn’t answer you right away. She knows you’re not a fan of Jungkook, so you assume she’s contemplating whether to tell you are not. Before you give her the chance to possibly lie, you go ahead and ask. “Are you going to the race with Jungkook?”

Her eyes widen slightly before she answers. “How’d you know about the race?”

“Taehyung told me about it, Jungkook’s friend.” You explain. “I- met him at a party a few weeks ago.”

“Oh, I see. Well, I guess you can come with if you want.” She offers.

“Yeah, I said I’d go with you. If that’s okay.”

“Yeah, it is.” You’re grateful she said yes. “I didn’t know you were seeing someone? You said his name is Taehyung, right?”

“Mhm, I’m not really seeing him. We just met at the Halloween party.” You say. You’re around the corner to your shared apartment. You want to cut the conversation short because you don’t want Yara to overhear. “Anyway, thanks for letting me come with.”

“Of course, babe.” She smiles at you sweetly. At least you could count on her not to judge you for wanting to see a southside boy.

Friday night, you start to panic about what you’re going to wear. It’s one of those times where you hate everything you have in your closet. You dig through your wardrobe, looking through it as if something new will magically appear. Ultimately you decide on a silk dress paired with stockings and a leather jacket.

At midnight when Eunji comes to your room to see if you’re ready. You’re a bit nervous about going to an illegal street race, but you push those thoughts away. You’re just excited to see Taehyung again, and you’re willing to go to the race to do so.

You meet at an abandoned parking lot somewhere in the southside. You have to admit you’re a bit scared being out in the southside so late. When you don’t see Taehyung right off the bat. You start to get nervous. You stick by Eunji’s side, and you can tell it annoys Jungkook. Soon though, you see Taehyung’s truck pull up. Your stomach flutters with excitement.

“I’ll catch up with you guys later.” You say to Eunji and Jungkook. But they’re too much in their own world to pay attention to you.

Taehyung gets out of his truck and as soon as he notices you he’s headed your way. He shamelessly checks you out, and you cheeks heat to a flush. He greets you with a simple ‘hey.’

“Hey,” you return lips pulling into a smile.

He pulls you in for a kiss, that’s enough to make your panties damp. You melt into the kiss, and his arms wrap around you. Inching towards the curve of your ass. He pulls you in even closer by his hold on your butt. To your dismay, eventually, he pulls away.

“I’ve got to say hi to some people, wanna come with?” You nod in response, and you follow his lead as he walks towards a group of guys. They currently stand around and lean on the cars. Smoking what smells like weed. When you walk up, Taehyung doesn’t bother to introduce you. Not like they care who you are because they totally ignore you. You watch as they all greet each other. They talk about stuff that you can’t quite piece together. Once Taehyung’s done, he’s grabbing you by the hand.

“C’mon.” He says as he leads you to an older BMW that looks like it’s been fixed up. A tall slim guy sits against the hood, beer in hand. Taehyung actually introduces you this time. You find out his name is Hoseok, and that he’s Taehyung’s friend. He barely greets you with a tight smile and a nod.

Soon the parking lot starts to fill with more cars. A lot of them you don’t know the names of. Then again you’re not really interested in cars. In fact, if any other guy asked you to a race, you would’ve declined, but there’s something about Taehyung that you can’t deny him. You watch as Taehyung smokes a cigarette while sipping a beer. He talks to Hoseok for a bit about some sort of deal that they’re doing. It makes you wonder what kind of business Taehyung is into.

The cars start to pull up in a line, side by side. You think the race will start soon. Taehyung slips one arm around your waist. Pulling you closer to his side. You can feel the warmth of his body, and your heart starts to race. When you look up at him, he’s completely focused on the cars as they rev their engines. Excitement looms over you as you see the cars begin to take off. Tires screech and rubber burns, leaving a cloud of smoke in their wake. You stand there and watch as Taehyung holds you tight. You feel an adrenaline rush, watching the cars zoom off. You guess the rush you felt was also the same feeling as being with Taehyung. He was forbidden, dangerous, and unpredictable. You shouldn’t be with him, but you just couldn’t help yourself.

“Fuck, Kihyun, better win this race.” Taehyung spits at the older man next to him.

“If he doesn’t, he owes us a fuck ton of money,” Hoseok says as he sips his beer.

“The bastard doesn’t have anything to his name. He won’t be able to give us shit.” Taehyung shakes his head. You’re not sure what they mean. You didn’t know who this Kihyun guy was and why it was so important for him to win. You assume Taehyung is betting on this race.

The cars run the first lap, and everyone starts to cheer. One more lap and you figure the race is done because the cheers become louder.

“Son of a bitch.” Hoseok grumbles, throwing the beer can on the ground, before smashing it with his foot. You take that as Kihyun lost the race. He walks off, leaving you and Taehyung alone.

“I’m assuming Kihyun didn’t win?” You break the silence.

“Definitely not.” Taehyung shakes his head.

Just then, you notice Changbin, an all-star athlete at your University with a pristine reputation. What was someone like him doing here?

“Who won?” You ask out of curiosity. You weren’t really paying attention, so you did get to see who came in first.

“The guy in the Porsche.” Taehyung gestures with his head to the direction of the car. That’s precisely where you see Changbin standing. With the guy who drove the car and won. The guy gets out of the car handing the keys over to Changbin.

“Wait, so who won? Changbin or the guy driving?” You’re confused as to why the guy was using Changbin’s car to race.

“Wait, you know that, kid?” Taehyung’s eyebrows furrow.

“Yeah, he goes to my school.” You explain.

“Of course, he does.” Taehyung scoffs, but you don’t push him about it anymore.

Next thing you know, you’re at a party. It’s at a rundown house, it's small and quaint. There aren't many people at the party.

“So, who are these people?” You ask into Taehyung’s ear. As you sit on his lap on a torn-up couch.

“Just a few people from my group.” He says vaguely. You want to ask more, but you know he won’t tell you anything.

You felt like you stood out. As if everyone knew you lived in the Northside. You figure somehow the word got out. You sip on the drink Taehyung made you, and you’re starting to ease up. The music’s boring and to be honest the parties kind of dull. Not like the first Southside party you went to, which was a total rager.

As if Taehyung can sense your boredom, he speaks into your ear. “Wanna get out of here?” Taehyung asks in a low suggestive voice.

“Yeah,” you agree in a breathy tone.

Before Taehyung can lead you to a bedroom or wherever he was going to take you. There’s a loud banging at the door. Suddenly everyone’s running out the back. Including you, because as soon as Taehyung hears the first knock. He’s already pulling you onto your feet, you both dash out the back along with everyone else. Well, at least with the people who were able to escape. Luckily Taehyung’s truck is a few houses down. Since the parking at the house was overcrowded. You run through a few backyards before you reach the truck.

“What the hell was that about?” You question as you pant once you’re in the truck.

“Don’t worry about it. At least we’re out of there.” Taehyung is speeding off without another word.

After that night, Taehyung never invited you to the Southside again.

‘

You spend the rest of the semester hanging out with Taehyung any chance you got. He’d always pick you on the outskirts of town, and he’d drive you around until there was no one in sight. Since meeting Taehyung, you got pretty comfortable with smoking weed. You’d sit in his truck hotboxing it, which eventually led to something sexual. Sex with Taehyung was amazing. He understood your body so well, and always satisfied your needs. He truly fucked like a pornstar. You could honestly say it was the best you’d ever had. You both hadn’t established whether you were in a relationship or not. But you assumed you were exclusive. You didn’t sleep with anybody else, and you made that clear to Taehyung. You also made him promise not to sleep with anyone since you weren’t using condoms. You only hoped that Taehying was keeping his promise. As for your friends, knowing about Taehyung. They didn’t, except for Eunji. It was like an unspoken rule that you and Eunji didn’t talk about your relationships. You didn’t pry on her relationship with Jungkook, and she didn’t pry about Taehyung.

“I wonder when we’ll actually fuck in an actual bed.” You complain as you climb into the back seat of Taehyung’s truck.

“I’ll rent us a hotel room if that’s what you're asking.” Taehyung shimmies down his jeans, the tip of his cock peeking out the waistband of his boxers, the head shiny with pre-cum. He’s already rock hard since your little makeout session from before.

“What am I a hooker?” You ask unimpressed.

“If that’s what you’re into. We can role-play.” Taehyung jokes. He knows you want him to bring you to his place for once, but he won’t let that happen. He’s driven you there once, but that was to “drop something off” you assume it had to do with his “business.” That he also won’t tell you about.

“I just wanna be wined and dined, ya know?” You lean down to situate yourself in your hands and knees. Pulling up your skirt over your ass. Dropping your back and displaying your plump ass for Taehyung.

“Wine and dined, huh?” Taehyung repeats, his hands going to grab at your ass cheeks. “We can arrange that,” he leans down from behind and begins to kiss up your spine, before continuing on.“At a hotel.” He smirks even though you can’t see him.

“Fine, at least let it be a nice one.” You bargain. Closing your eyes as Taehyung’s lips meet the juncture of your neck.

“Only the finest for this sweet little pussy,” he coos. His lips sucking pink marks into your neck, that you know, you’ll have to cover later.

You had definitely become more comfortable with Taehyung. He wasn’t as intimidating as he was when you first met him. You just had to get to know him to see he wasn’t a bad guy. Maybe he did questionable things, but you’d never know. He never liked to share that side of him.

Taehyung’s fingers on your folds is what brings you back from your thoughts. He teases, running his fingers along the slit. It’s a light and ticklish sensation. Soon enough, you’re sighing out loud when you feel his fingers dip into your core. You’re wet, but not wet enough. Two of his fingers feel inside of you. Not fucking you just yet. It’s enough though to get you wetter than you were before. When he finally decides to finger fuck you. You toss your head back and relish in the feeling of his fingers rubbing against your slick walls.

“Can you take another?” Taehyung asks, speeding up the pace of his fingers.

“Mhm,” you nod. With that, a third finger is delving in. You rock your hips backward, meeting every thrust of his fingers. And just like that, your arousal starts to flow out of you. The lewd squelching sounds filling the truck as Taehyung is knuckle deep.

“Oh God, Taehyung, I’m gonna come,” you warn.

“Don’t,” He commands. Taehyung knows you're close by the way your pussy has a death grip on his fingers.

“Why?” You whine you’re so close. You don’t understand why he doesn’t want you to.

He doesn’t answer, though. All he does is retract his fingers from your warm wet hole. Leaving you quaking and your pussy pulsating around nothing.

“Fuck, Taehyung.” You make a whining noise from your throat.

Taehyung places a soothing kiss on the small of your back. “Just wanted you to cum on my cock first.” He teases, rubbing your ass cheek before smacking it. Your body jolts forward, and you moan out loud. “You like that?” He asks.

“Yes,” you moan.

Taehyung would play with you more, but he’s feeling pretty restless today. Something happened with “work,” and he definitely won’t tell you. All you know is he’s had a pretty bad day, and all he wants to do is blow your back out. That being his exact words.

Taehyung finally releases his cock from the confines of his boxers. Letting spring out before taking it into his hand. He uses the hand that’s sticky with your arousal to stroke his dick. He brings the tip to your folds. Rubbing the head against them. He’s sighing at the sensation it causes to the sensitive tip.

Without even a warning, he’s plunging straight in. Causing your back to bow. “Unghhh,” you groan when Taehyung quickly draws back and thrusts forward with a heavy weight. Holy shit, he must’ve really had a bad day, you think.

His hands are on your hips, guiding you with every thrust. His hips consistently hitting your ass, leaving red marks behind.

“You like it when I fuck you hard?” Taehyung asks through a groan. And you nod profusely in response.

He’s fucking his frustrations out, and you feel it, deep inside you. The truck shakes with every movement. Soon the windows fog shielding you from the view of a prying eye. Your fingers dig into the leather seats. As you barely hold yourself up.

“I’m close,” Taehyung admits. Usually, he wouldn’t cum this fast, but either way, you embrace it.

“Oh—” you say at a particularly hard thrust. “Cum in Taehyung, please! Fuck— I need it!” You sob. You reach for your clit hurriedly rubbing at it. Hoping to get where Taehyung is soon.

“Fuck, you want my cum baby?” He asks as if you would deny him. He just loves the confirmation.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” You chant. The pressure threatening to explode.

Taehyung’s thrusts are carnal, his hands leave bruises in their wake. Bruises that you have to explain when you’re changing in dressing rooms to your friends. You’ll lie, though, and they’ll probably see right through it.

“Fuck, you’re gonna take this dick and my cum you hear me?” Taehyung growls. His cock twitching inside of you, his end nearing soon.

“Oh fuck yeah—,” you sob, ready to take him all.

“For fuck sake,” Taehyung groans. With a few more hard thrusts, Taehyung is filling you up. His hips still as he lets his cum shoot into your pussy. You’re moaning when you feel his cum fill you up.

Knowing you haven’t cum yet Taehyung keeps fucking you. His cum threatens to spill out, but with every pump, his dick is pushing it back in. His cock coated with a mix of his cum and your sticky juices. He slides in and out so effortlessly, causing the most delicious sensation. With a hand on your clit and Taehyung’s relentless pounding, you cum with a strangled moan. You feel like the wind has been knocked out of you. Your muscle tense as you ride the wave of pleasure. Once it’s over, you gasp for air.

“Fuck,” Taehyung hisses as he pulls out, his sensitivity in overdrive now. “You okay?” He asks, panting. As if he hasn’t just fucked you into another dimension.

“Mhm,” you hum, slumping down on the leather seat.

You’re weak, but you still manage to clean yourself up. Taking the cum rag to wipe yourself before sliding your panties back on. With heavy bodies, you both get into the front seats. You sit there for a moment, recuperating. Eventually, Taehyung takes you home. And you can’t help but think of him for the rest of the night.

Taehyung has disappeared on you once before. He was M.I.A for a few days. No texts, calls, or anything. Then out of nowhere, he just reappeared like nothing had happened. Dismissing your worry as an overreaction. This time though, things felt different. It had been over a week with no sign of Taehyung. Jungkook has even been missing. Eunji was a mess, thinking it was Jungkook breaking up with her again. He made a habit of this. It made you wonder if that’s what Taehyung was doing to you. You didn’t think so, though. He was pretty straight forward you’re sure if he didn’t want you he’d just tell you, right? Something doesn’t sit right with you. You make the rash decision one night to go find Taehyung.

You know you shouldn’t be here alone, but Taehyung left you no choice. You walk into what seems to be an empty house after no one answers. The doors unlocked so you were able to come right in.

“Taehyung,” you call out, and no one responds. You look around the house, and it appears to be abandoned. You know it’s not, but it seems like whoever was here just picked up and left.

“Tae,” you call out once more. No response. Once you reach the glass sliding door at the back of the house, you can see two figures. You quietly open the door stepping out. You can hear a few curses, and when you come closer, you notice it’s Taehyung, and you think Changbin. You walk closer towards them. Their yells become louder.

When Taehyung’s fist comes in contact with Changbin’s jaw you wince. His fist is relentless. Each blow harder than the other. It takes you a moment to process what was happening. Once you come to your senses, you’re running towards Taehyung.

“Taehyung, stop!” You scream, pulling Taehyung off the younger man.

Taehyung turns around, looking at you with crazed eyes. “What the hell are you doing here, y/n?” He questions letting go of Changbin. His body drops limply to the ground.

You can’t seem to speak, you feel your throat tighten, and tears threaten to spill from your eyes. You were scared. Who was this person? This wasn’t the Taehyung, you know. Or at least you thought you knew.

Just then, Hoseok is walking out of the house. “What the fuck is going on here? I thought you were going to take care of it.” Hoseok’s voice is rough, scaring you even more.

“Hyung, I need you to take over.” Taehyung gestures to Changbin, who’s still lying on the floor. His body seems to be lifeless.

“Fine,” Hoseok spits. “Next time, keep your bitch in line.”

Taehyung’s bloody hands grab you by your wrist leading you back into the house.“Y/n, what the hell are you doing here?!”

“You— you didn’t answer my calls.” You stutter. You stare at Taehyung blood-stained hands.

“That’s no reason for you to come looking for me. What the fuck were you thinking?” Taehyung raises his voice, and it causes you to finally start crying. You let go, tears streaming down your face and all you can do is bow your head.

Taehyung has no sympathy for you. “C’mon.” His voice gruff laced with annoyance. He pulls you by your arm once again, leading you to the truck.

Once you’re on his truck, you find the strength to apologize. “I’m sorry.” Your voice is still scratchy from crying.

“Whatever, just don’t come looking for me again?” He grips the steering wheel harder.

“Ok.”

“You could've got fucking hurt y/n. Hoseok doesn’t fuck around. Plus, it’s too fucking late for you to be hanging around the southside so late by yourself.” Taehyung berates you. You can feel your tears come again.

The rest of the car ride is silent.

Taehyung pulls into your apartment complex. He puts the truck in park, and he sits there for a second. Finally, he sighs, lowering his head. “I’m sorry you had to see that shit.”

“You almost killed the guy Taehyung.” You sob.

Fuck, he really wishes you hadn’t shown up. “He’s going to be fine.” Taehyung dismisses you. He was only roughing up the guy, he thought.

“What did he do to deserve that Taehyung? He was innocent.” You knew Changbin hung around the southside sometimes, but you never expected him to get beat up by Taehyung of all people.

“Pfft, innocent?” Taehyung shakes his head. “The guys a piece of shit. He fucking robbed us. So I had to take care of it.”

Take care of it. The words ring inside your head.

“So what you were just gonna kill the guy?”

“What? No! Y/n, I don’t even have to explain myself to you.” He shakes his head again. “You know what, just get out.”

“What?” You feel like you’ve been punched in the gut. Your body moves slowly, slipping out of the raised truck.

“Go on,” Taehyung instructs. You listen and carry your heavy body back to your apartment.

The next morning your eyes are puffy from all the crying. You look at yourself in the mirror for just a second before quickly looking away. You needed a hot shower. Steam fills the bathroom as you scrub yourself clean. It’s hot and humid, and you feel like you’re being enveloped in heat. Somehow you find it comforting. Once you’re out of the shower, you dry off your wet skin, slipping into comfortable clothing.

“Y/n.” Yara knocks at your door.

“Come in.” You yell.

“Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to go to breakfast with the girls and me?” She asks sweetly, suspecting something is wrong.

“You guys go ahead. I’m not feeling well today. I just wanna stay at home.”

Yara just nods, going in for a quick hug. “If you need anything, just let me know.” You nod in response, and with that, she’s leaving your room.

You throw yourself back onto your bed. You check your phone, looking for messages from Taehyung. You know he wouldn’t text or call. Still, you can’t help but check. You toss your phone, and it lands somewhere on your bed. You roll over to your side face squishing into the soft pillow. Eventually, you fall back asleep again.

Thump Thump.

You’re woken by loud banging at your front door. You get up disoriented as you trudge to the front door. The girls must not be back yet, you think. Once you get there, you rub your eyes first before opening the door.

“Taehyung?” You’re face to face with the older man. His hair is damp, and his face is cut up. “What the hell happened?” He bleeds from his busted lip. You step aside, letting him in.

“They fucking got me.” Taehyung spits, he the bridge of his nose.

You’re quick to grab him some ice. “Come here.” You watch as Taehyung drags his feet toward the kitchen. He sits on the barstool at the island. And you walk over to him, pressing the ice against his bruised eye.

“Shit,” he hisses. Wincing at the cold sensation. He grabs ahold of your hand.

“Who got you?” You ask, letting Taehyung hold onto you as you ice his eye.

Taehyung takes a deep breath. He pulls the ice off him and lets go of your hand. “Fucking north siders.” He shakes his head. He’s pissed, beyond pissed actually. “Last night, after I dropped you off. I ran into a few of Changbin’s buddies. They ended up jumping me.”

“What? How?” You gasp. This was all your fault if you hadn’t gone looking for Taehyung none of this would’ve happened.

“They broke my fucking window. Pulled me out of my truck, beat me, and left me on the side of the road.” Your eyes widen as Taehyung explains to you what happened to him. How could something like possibly have happened on the North Side?

“Tae—,” your voice trails off. You feel so guilty that any of this happened. You should’ve just stayed out of it. If it wasn’t for you, Taehyung would never have been here, and this would’ve never happened to him.

For some reason, it drove Taehyung crazy the way you called out his name like that. Sure, you were a pain in his ass and caused him nothing but trouble since you came into his life, but he couldn’t help the way he felt when you looked at him like that.

“It’s whatever,” Taehyung says indifferently.

“Here, let me get you something to clean up the blood.” You walk towards the sink. And Taehyung can’t help but stare at your ass as you walk away. You slept in the skimpiest of short. Probably because they were comfortable, Taehyung thinks.

“Here,” you say when you’re in front of him again. You begin to wipe off the blood with a damp rag causing Taehyung to wince once again. “I’m sorry,” you frown, but you continue to clean him up.

“I should get going.” Taehyung pulls your hand away. “I only came by because I was finally conscious enough to move, and you were the closest place I could think of.”

“Wait, don’t go just yet.” You gesture for him to stay put. You go to the bathroom in search of some Vaseline or something to help with the cuts. “Here,” you say when you come back out.

“Vaseline?” Taehyung questions with a cocked brow.

“It will help close up the wounds,” you state. You take the jelly onto your fingers and lightly rub against the cuts on Taehyung's face. You stand in between his spread legs. You can feel his hot breath against your skin as you continue to rub Vaseline on him.

You missed being this close to Taehyung. Against your will, you pull away after applying the jelly on the last cut.

“Thanks,” Taehyung mutters. His eyes trained on your lips. There’s a moment where you both contemplate on whether or not to act on your desire. Taehyung is the first to choose. He leans in the rest of the way brushing his lips against yours. He leaves it to you to finish the kiss, and you do. Your lips pressing together then parted by Taehyung’s tongue. You can taste the blood on your tongue as your lips smack together.

You moan into the kiss, and instantly, Taehyung is picking you up. You wrap your legs around his waist, and his large hands cup over the swell of your ass, holding you up. He places you on the kitchen island, your legs spreading wide for him. He nestles in between them, his crotch pressing against yours. A slow grind with every movement if of the kiss. You missed Taehyung's touch. The way his hands grip onto you. The way his tongue tastes like stale cigarettes. A taste that you grew to love. Everything about Taehyung is hot. The way he stared at you with a hard gaze was enough to make your panties wet.

He’s hard between your thighs. As the outline of his cock grinds against your clothed cunt. You throw your head back as you break away from the kiss. Your lungs need air, and you gasp for it. You reveal the soft skin of your neck as your head tosses back. Taehyung takes the initiative to suck a mark onto your neck.

“Tae—,” you moan, your hand coming up to entangle into Taehyung’s curly locks.

“Mmm,” he groans into your neck. He grinds against you harder. Desperate and hungry to feel anything you’re willing to give. And right now, you’re eager to give it all. Desire fills your body with every thrust. Your core aching to be filled.

“Tell me to stop,” he grunts. And that’s the last thing you want him to do. “Tell me you don’t want this.” But you can’t lie to him. Because every fiber in your being yearns for Taehyung.

“Please,” you beg your hand, wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer. “Taehyung, I want it.” You admit to him whispering into his ear with a low voice. He was no good for you, but you couldn’t help it. You wanted him.

He’s pushing onto your back, and you shiver when your back presses against the cold countertop. Taehyung pushes your shirt up over your chest. His lips kissing and sucking the expanse of your tummy. Soon enough, he’s heading down south, kissing his way down. He’s quick to pull down your shorts and underwear until the slip off your dangling legs. Your ass is bare against the countertop, and you’re sure if your roommates knew what you were doing on their perfectly clean white marble top, they’d freak.

Taehyung crouches onto his knees. His head between your thighs. He sucks a hickey into your inner thigh. When his tongue is finally at your core, you arch your back into it. His tongue moves languidly against your folds. Slow and torturous, but enough to let pleasure bloom. Your body feels hot all over, and you can feel your body shine with perspiration. Taehyung grips onto your thighs, spreading them wide, using them as leverage.

Eventually, his tongue is lapping in your juices. His tongue curls with every drag. His wet muscle licking up your slit until he’s met with your swollen clit. Your body goes stiff as he begins to make out with your cunt. Sucking on your nub, causing you to grip onto his locks. His tongue and lips are enough to coax your arousal out of you. It drips out of your wet pussy down to the curve of your ass.

Taehyung breathes heavily as he buries himself in your pussy. You’re crying out loud, and you can feel the weight of his hand. He presses against your lower abdomen, keeping your hips still. Though your hips wanted to move freely. He loved how greedy you were for him, he wanted to give you everything you wanted.

“Please, Taehyung,” you plead in a whiny voice. All you needed was his fingers, and you’d come undone. He knows exactly what you want. Two digits dip into your leaking entrance. He curls them upward before he begins to pump them.

“Oh,” you mewl. You’re met with his mouth on your clit again. He sucks relentlessly, causing your hips to move unabashedly. He can no longer control the way your hips move, and he lets you have it.

Your moans become louder, and the room fills with the lewd noises of Taehyung slurping up your cunt. Time stops for a moment, and you’re coming undone. Your walls pulsing around his fingers. As you’re plunging straight into your orgasm. You slump back down onto the kitchen counter. Your body now welcoming the coolness of the marble countertop.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Taehyung admires you as you lay there. Legs spread wide for him, your chest rising and falling, and your hair splayed all over the counter. You’re completely fucked out, and his chest swells because he knows he made you like this. A crying, panting mess for him, it was all for him.

“Taehyung fuck me please, I want it so bad.” You cry you want to feel him inside you. You want to feel complete.

Taehyung rises to his feet. His hands moving quickly to unbuckle his belt. He pushes down his pants and boxers in one go. His dick springs free, and your core begins to throb again. He’s taking his cock into his hand, rubbing the tip against your folds. You sit up to watch him, and he picks your legs up from the back of your thighs. Holding you as he finally pushes in. There’s no resistance whatsoever as your warm wet walls welcome him in.

“Ahh,” you huff feeling him stretch you open.

Taehyung’s hips begin to move. He has no mercy, he’s desperate to cum. His thrusts are short and hard. You feel the head of his dick continuously brush against your sweet spot.

“Off,” you say, tugging the hem of his shirt. And momentarily, he drops your legs. Lifting the shirt over his head and tossing it on the ground. Quickly his hands go back to lifting your legs to continue to fuck you.

His muscles flex with every moment. And now you can admire his tanned skin adorned with his tattoos. You run your hands over his chest and down his abs. Everything about Taehyung was so hot.

“Fuck your pussy feels so good, baby,” Taehyung says through gritted teeth. His hips moving erratically now. You lie back against the island again. Pulling up your shirt gives him a good view of your breast as they jiggle with every thrust.

A particularly hard thrust has your crying out. “There— don’t stop, please!” You beg. His dick hitting you perfectly that you can feel your orgasm building up again. You feel the weight of his hips on yours as he slides in and out.

Soon, the pressure is building up between your thighs. To steady yourself, you grip onto the edge of the island. Your back arches as your pussy takes a beating. You suck in a deep breath, and you let go. Your muscles begin to liquify. Letting your sweet release take over.

“Oh my god— I’m cumming!” You say gasping for air. You swear you blackout for a few seconds the pleasure being too much.

Taehyung is mumbling a few curses with every other thrust. Your walls spasming around his dick makes him groan. His cock engulfed in the sweet sea of your pussy. Taehyung’s balls begin to ache to release soon.

“God, I want your cum so bad.” You say in a drawn-out whine. Your walls are still so sensitive, but you push through.

Taehyung’s dick twitches inside you at your words. “Fuck baby, where do you want it?” He grunts.

Without a second thought, you beg for him to cum on you. You could care less where. You just wanted him to taint you with his cum.

With Taehyung’s end nearing, you wrap your legs around his torso, pulling him close to you. His thrust are shallow now with the close proximity you hold him at. His hands are on either side of your waist. Holding onto you as he pushes you against his thrusts. Your hands grip onto Taehyung’s bulging biceps, as thrusts become more relentless.

“Tell me you want it,” his voice hoarse. He just wants to hear it come from your mouth.

“I want it, so bad—,” you gasp for air, his thrust becoming incredibly hard. “Give it to me, Tae!” You sob, pleasure increasingly taking over your body again.

With your pleas, Taehyung is quickly pulling out of you. His hand pulls rapidly on his engorged cock. With a clenched jaw and muscles taught, he’s cumming all over your tummy. Ropes of cum shoot out, landing on your soft skin. He tugs on his dick between spurts dragging out every last bit of his orgasm. When he comes down, he’s gently letting go of you. His hands press against the cold marble. Leaning against his arms, his body slumps over yours. The tip of his cock rutting into the mess he’s made on you. His head hangs low, and you push away the strands that fall against his eyes. His usual intense gaze is gone as he only looks at you with soft eyes. You cup his face, and he leans down gingerly, placing one last kiss on your lips.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” whispers, his eyes shutting.

After your breath becomes steady again, you suddenly realize where you are. In your kitchen, almost completely bare. “Tae,” you say as you sit yourself up on the counter. “My roommates, they’ll be back soon.” You say, worried they’d come in at any second.

“Could we maybe shower?” Taehyung asks, looking at the state of both of you. You’re covered in his cum, and he’s covered with sweat and dirt from last night.

“Yeah, my rooms that way.” You point over to the slightly opened door of your room. Taehyung helps you off the counter, and you both head to your room.

You have to admit showering with Taehyung was nice. Having him lather soap all over your body felt amazing. Especially when he massaged your scalp, you swear you were cumming. It was such a sweet sentiment that you were sad when Taehyung was getting dressed to leave.

“Stay, please,” you say timidly. You hope with everything in you that Taehyung would agree. That instead of leaving, he’d stay and spend the day with you in bed.

“I can’t,” he says, his eyes averting yours.

“Why not Taehyung?” You can feel the familiar tightness start at your throat. Deep down you already knew why. You and Taehyung weren’t meant for each other. You came from opposite worlds. It didn’t make sense for you to be together. “Just for today Tae, please stay,” you plead one last time.

Taehyung looks down to where you currently lay on your bed. He’s so conflicted his mind is telling him one thing, but his heart is telling him another. Ultimately Taehyung decides to stay. Regardless of what your friends might think when they come home and find you two together. You both don’t know what will happen next, but all you know is that you have him here right now.

A/N: I really enjoyed writing this thank you to the anon that requested this prompt! Please let me know if you enjoyed it! Your feedback is greatly appreciated! (:

#bts smut #taehyung smut #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #taehyung #taehyung scenarios #taehyung angst #bts fic #bts #lushjin writes #ksmutclub

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