#if only i woke up with thousands of dollars in my pocket

[mintsv]

cherry blossom - k. gyuvin

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pairing ➷ gyuvin x gn!reader

synopsis : you and gyuvin were in your last years of high school and lived beside each other. at school, he's captain of the basketball team, gyuvin is friendly and easygoing, not to mention he's extremely popular. on the other hand, you're the class president and have been for many years, you very studious, making you not have many friends. nevertheless, your fateful friendship bloomed under the cherry blossoms of april.

genre : romance . fluff . slight angst . high school au

word count : 3.5k

warnings : swearing (only once tho)

notes : hii i posted again finally!! sorry bcs english isnt my first language there might be some grammar errors 😅, it's also my first time writing a gn!reader so i'm sorry if i make some mistakes ;D

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➷ the first encounter

it was the month of april, the start of spring, and your favorite month of the year mostly because you enjoy gazing at the cherry blossoms on your way back from school. you wore a mid-length puffer jacket since the weather was a bit chilly, holding your hands up to your face to see your fingertips have become slightly reddish. you sigh as you bury your hands back in the pockets of your puffer as you tried distracting yourself from the cold by talking to your classmate beside you.

"soo.. about the cherry blossom festival, i was thinking we could do something involving our basketball team since you know, the captain is in our class of course.." she giggled, acting giddyly similar to a child.

"well, I've had 5 people telling me the same thing and i'll repeat my answer one last time, I'll think about it okay? but there's a big chance it's not going to happen." you exasperatingly sigh as the girl beside you inevitably left after realizing you wouldn't agree to her request.

as the class president, your duty is to arrange class activities, one of them being the cherry blossom festival happening in a few weeks time. there wasn't a particular reason why you denied all the requests, you just weren't very fond of the boy. he was always late to class, sometimes even skipping entirely to play basketball. his behaviour took a toll on your status as class president, teachers who couldn't get through the boy would often scold you instead.

you thought this calming walk back home couldn't get any worse until you were met face to face with the devil himself.

he wasn't walking home with his friends like he normally would, he looked back when he felt someone's stare burning holes on his back, his eyes with yours almost immediately.

as if on cue, a 10 thousand won bill (around 7 usd) fell from one of the swaying cherry trees, landing perfectly in between you and him. both of your eyes followed the bill as it glides down to the concrete floor, your eyes going back and forth from the bill to the boy in front of you.

CRASH!

"Ow!"

feeling a head collide with yours, you let out a painful hiss while holding your head with one arm. slowly you look up to see the boy in front of you mirroring your movements. you were both knelt down, one hand on the dollar bill with the other clutching your heads.

"Aha! my hand is under yours, that means the 10k is mine." his words woke you up from the trance you were in, widening your eyes when you realized your hands were on top of his own. you quickly pulled away but that didn't mean you were backing up.

"yeah but that's because you hit my hand!" you retorted back, showing him the red mark on the back of your hand.

"it was just an act of self defense i'm sorry, um.. what if we just split it, I'll buy you something from the cafeteria?" the boy rubbed the back of his neck nervously, stretching out his hand that held the dollar bill.

you thought to yourself for a moment before replying,

"fine, i'll forgive you under three conditions." you stood up with your arms crossed. the boy in front of you following as he nodded erratically.

"one, you can never be late nor skip classes from tomorrow onward and explain to mr lee why you've been late this entire time. two, your basketball team has to participate in this year's cherry blossom festival as the representative of our class. and three, you owe me a carton of strawberry milk." you smirk proudly, seeing the color drain from the boy's face.

"okay okay, what if we skip number one and two and i'll buy you TWO cartons of strawberry milk? how does that sound?" he pleaded.

"fine then, i'm telling the counselor you hurt a fellow student." you started to walk back to school but before you could take another step, a hand held your wrist to prevent you from walking further, just as you expected.

"okay, fine. jeez i didn't know the class president was this stern." he smirked almost flirtingly even though you didn't get the hint.

"i have a name you know, it's y/n." you turn to face him again, annoyed because in the school almost no one calls you by your real name and for some reason it made you think no one actually knew your name.

"alright y/n, i'm kim gyuvin and it's nice to meet you too." he grinned similar to a puppy, extending his hand waiting to be shook by yours.

you looked at his hand, back to his face, and to his hand again. after a few seconds of contemplation, you lightly extended your cold hand which was quickly greeted by the warmth of gyuvin's.

just for a moment there, you felt a foreign feeling of butterflies swarming your stomach.

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➷ a few months later

"KIM GYUVIN!" you bang on his apartment door, looking at the time on your phone before stepping away from the door.

"I'M UP! I'M UP!" like usual, the door slammed open, revealing a disheveled gyuvin in his school uniform that was horribly crinkled. his eyes were barely open and his hair was stood up, obvious that he had just gotten up from bed.

"did you sleep in your school uniform?" you tilt your head, looking at him from head to toe with a concerned look. it was your daily task to wake up gyuvin every morning ever since you found out that the both of you lived beside each other, obviously neither of you ever noticed considering gyuvin's 'always late' agenda and your 'always early' one.

"no.." you roll your eyes as he sheepishly smiles.

"there's still 30 minutes, go take a shower, you stink." you forcefully push the boy back into his apartment, shutting the door behind him. you could make out a bunch of whines coming from the opposite side, meanwhile you couldn't help the small grin from forming on your face.

after 10 minutes, the door opened for the second time, unveiling a less disheveled gyuvin. his hair fluffed up giving him a boyish look, the tiredness in his eyes was now replaced with a glint of excitement, his clothes seemingly less crinkled and his puppy-like smile on full display.

god you thought you had just fallen in love for the millionth time.

gyuvin slung his arms around your shoulder almost putting you in a headlock, "I know i'm terribly handsome but we might be late if you can't stop staring." he gave you a smug look in which you returned with a disgusted one.

"whatever."

you both walked to school as usual, his arms weren't slung around you anymore since there were other students around and gyuvin didn't want them 'getting the wrong idea'.

arriving at school on time was something gyuvin wasn't used to but he didn't mind if it meant he could spend more time with his best friend, you (of course).

"you're coming to my match this afternoon right, class prez?"

'class prez' that was the nickname gyuvin gave you ever since you both met, he would rarely call you by your real name, only if things were serious which barely ever happens anyways.

"yeah, if i can." you respond nonchalantly.

"you always say that, but at the end of the day you always come." he gave you a small grin which made your cheeks turn a pinkish hue.

"whatever."

"whatever, whatever, whatever, do you ever say anything else?" as the both of you continued bickering, the boy's contagious smile made you break out into a grin as well. to other people, both of you looked like two kids madly in love with each other. as cliché as it sounds, it was painfully obvious to everyone except you and gyuvin.

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school had just officially ended for the day. Your classmates bid you goodbye, everyone in a hurry to see the upcoming basketball match between your school and the neighboring school. of course, gyuvin had left earlier in order to fulfill his duties as team captain. currently, you were fulfilling your own duties as class president with your assistant, park gunwook.

"y/n why do we have to do this? can't we just do this tomorrow, pleaasee i really wanna see the match!" the boy beside you pleaded, having his head ontop of his folded arms, looking at the window where you could see students holding banners hurrying inside the school gym where the match was held.

"if you stop whining we might be able to sort these in time so we can see the match, gunwook." you reply sternly, quickly going over the files the teacher assigned you.

"don't lie y/n, i know you wanna skip and watch your loverboy too." gunwook looks to you with a teasing glint in his eyes that you didn't take notice of.

"my what? stop fooling around and help me sort these!" though your voice was a bit shaky, it seemed to convince gunwook enough for him to start helping you.

as time went by, you skimmed over the endless stack of files, eyes growing visibly tired and red. on the other hand, the 'assistant' beside you had already fallen deep into dreamland after helping you with one or two files. you couldn't help but listen to the ongoing match inside the gym and the faint sound of cheering, praying you'd finish these soon enough to join in the bleachers.

after a while, you finally finished sorting the needed files, rubbing your eyes tiredly. you dropped the files in front of gunwook with a loud thud.

"AHH YOU SCARED ME!" he woke up in a cold sweat, holding his hand to his heart.

"take these to mr choi, i'm leaving now." you quickly pack your bags, leaving the boy alone in the classroom still recovering from the shock you gave him.

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inside the gym, it was break time for both teams and gyuvin's eyes couldn't help but scan through the crowd of people on the bleachers, not seeing the face he was looking for, he sighed in defeat as his mind went back to the conversation he had with you in the morning.

><

"i'm serious gyuvin, i might not be able to make it today, i have a lot of things to do, so i apologize beforehand."

"it's okay, don't apologize, it's not your fault. just..come by if you can."

><

his mood was somewhat down since the start of the match, leading his team to worry about the boy.

"hey man you ok? a little bit more and we can catch up, don't give up now!" his teammate, ricky spoke up while slinging his arms around the brunette's shoulder.

"no it's not that, ricky." gyuvin removed the arm around his shoulder, slumping down onto his seat, head hung low.

"ohhh i know, it's because his 'class prez' isn't here yet." his other teammate, yujin chirped in an attempt to ease the tension, earning a nudge from ricky.

"dude don't say that!"

"what? say what?!" yujin held his lower stomach where ricky had nudged him as they both continued to bicker.

gyuvin wasn't paying attention to the two boys in front of him, more focused on his phone which he unconciously keeps checking. he had hoped for a text message from you, confirming if you were coming by or not. but no matter how long he waited, the text never came. eventually, the horns had blasted, signalling the start of the final round to decide the winner of the match.

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meanwhile, arriving at the basketball court, you ran to the bleachers, taking up the last remaining spot on the railing as your eyes scan the court in front of you. you were out of breath from all the running you did to get here, chest heaving up and down as your eyes frantically searched for the brunette.

as gyuvin was getting into position, his eyes trailed to the bleachers one last time. to his surprise, the first pair of eyes he had met was yours. the frown on his face was suddenly nowhere to be seen, his eyes lit up and he felt a warm feeling engulf in his heart.

hurriedly, you scribble down 'kim gyuvin!' on a page of your sketchbook, holding it up for the boy to see. gyuvin's smile got impossibly bigger upon seeing his written name, his eyes lit up as he shamelessly waved to you which made his teammates look at him, dumbfounded and also slightly relieved to know their captain was back.

"see, i told you if y/n comes he'll be back to normal." yujin smirked as he nudged ricky, who seems to be unbothered by the younger male, his focus mainly on the pair before he eventually drags gyuvin to his designated position as the referee signalled the start of the game.

throughout the final game, you were incredibly stressed out while your eyes moved back and forth from the score board and to the brown haired boy. both teams were already incredibly tired except for gyuvin who looked like he was playing in the first round.

"pass! pass!"

the brunette yelled from across the court, after obtaining the ball, he took a risky move which made you and a few others jump from their seats. the scores were exceptionally close and time was limited, meaning if he managed to score this 3-point, the team is guaranteed a victory.

for a split second, the crowd went silent as gyuvin shot the ball. just as the timer ticked zero, the crowd erupted with cheers and the alarm went off signalling the end of the match. gyuvin had succesfully scored a point, making his team the ultimate winner.

the boy felt like he was on cloud 9 with so many people calling on his name and his teammates hurdling around him with smiles on their faces. but most importantly, there you were on the bleachers, smiling at him and giving him a thumbs up which he found utterly adorable. after the cheers had slowed down, gyuvin excused himself from his teammates, running to the locker and changing his clothes as fast as he could.

when he got out, he was met by your presence almost immediately.

"congratulations! sorry i couldn't come earlier." your smile wasn't as big since you tried to keep your cool in front of hin.

gyuvin didn't respond for a while which worried you, but you were surprised to feel your feet up in the air as two arms lifted you up and spun you around. you held onto his shoulder for balance basically hugging him as you could smell his faint cologne making you blush provusely. the red on your cheeks didn't go unnoticed by the boy but he only shrugged it off thinking you were just excited for him.

after many complaints from you, gyuvin put you back down. he smiled ear to ear as he rubbed his nape nervously.

"sorry, i'm just happy you came." you couldnt bear the eye contact with him, your eyes searched for anything other than the boy.

"by the way you look really tired, was there a lot of work?" he continued, cupping your cheeks with both of his hands, forcing you to look at him. it was something he often did and it made you feel butterflies as his two hands felt warm on your cold cheeks.

"y-yeah i had to do everything by myself since gunwook fell asleep halfway, it's fine though i'm not that tired." you tried to reassure him, circling your hands around his wrists to pull him away but it only made him squish your face harder which made you let out a whine.

"but your eyes are so red! hurry, i'll take you home so you can get some rest." finally letting go of your face, he takes one of your wrists and lead you to the gym where all his friends are waiting for him.

"gyuvin i feel fine, i wanna stay here longer please?"

"why do you want to stay here-" his words were cut short by an unfamiliar voice.

"kim gyuvin!"

from behind the boy appeared a girl who looks to be one of your underclassmen. it's no doubt gyuvin is popular among seniors, but classes below you weren't an exception either.

gyuvin turned around to face the younger girl and you followed suit, leaning in a bit to listen to their conversation.

"can i help you?" gyuvin spoke in a polite manner.

"gyuvin oppa, can we talk outside i have something to tell you." the girl fiddled with the hem of her skirt nervously, you already knew where this was going and gyuvin did too.

"i'm sorry i-"

"please? it's really important it wont take long.." the girl pleaded, holding on to the hem of his shirt and the sight almost making you puke.

despite gyuvin's hesitation, he looked back to you and mouthed a 'sorry' before being rushed off by the girl.

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after gyuvin left you let out the biggest sigh, having such a popular best friend was hard and not to mention your enormous crush on him made it even worse.

essentially you wanted to stay at school longer to spend time with the best friend who just left you, but since he's no longer here you find a spot to sit on the bleachers. you remember the two cans of soda in your backpack, now having no one to share them with.

as you pop open one of the cans, before you could take a sip, you felt a presence beside you.

"hey, can i sit here?" a familiar voice caught your attention, shen quanrui aka ricky who is your classmate and one of gyuvin's friends.

"oh, um sure." you took your backpack from the seat, putting it on your lap and taking a sip of your soda.

"soo.. y/n right? i heard a lot about you from gyuvin."

"haha yeah.. you're ricky right? i also hear about you from gyuvin."

an awkward silence flew in the air for a solid 10 seconds.

"do you know what he's doing right now? i've been looking all over and i can't find him." his question reminded you again why you were talking to him in the first place, he left cause some girl is gonna confess to him, should you really say that?

"well, a girl pulled him outside, said she has something important to tell him and you can guess the rest." you chuckle bitterly.

"it's hard to be friends with someone so popular isn't it?" somehow his statement brightened your mood a little.

"yeah, that's exactly what i was just thinking." you finally had the courage to lift your head and look at the blonde beside you.

ricky was also semi-popular, his looks are well known to everyone in the school and his personality wasn't so bad either.

"so he really left you alone here? what an asshole, maybe i should beat him later." he put his hands into fists and started punching the air like a boxer.

"oh please don't, i think the girl he's talking to right now has tortured him enough." ricky laughed and you followed suit, feeling more comfortable as time went by.

"do you like soda?"

"well it depends, i only like it when it's a 1+1 deal." you chuckle, handing him the can of soda in your backpack since yours was almost finished and you wanted to have a soda buddy to drink with.

"thanks, i like it even better when it's free."

"oh please, you owe me lunch tomorrow."

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meanwhile outside of the gym,

"oppa, i really like you- no! i love you please go out with me!" the girl stretched out her hands, holding a thick envelope which could only mean one thing.

"i'm really sorry, but i'm not interested in relationships right now. and i don't want your money." the boy politely bowed, pushing the girl's hands back.

"please! i'll double the money if you want to, just go out with me once, i really like you please give me one chance!" gyuvin has had a series of confessions to him, but this was his first one that seemed a bit extreme.

"i can't, i'm sorry but i-"

"oppa, do you like someone already?"

"what?" the question made gyuvin stop in his tracks.

"you do don't you? is that why you don't want to accept my love? who is it just be honest!" the younger girl was now sobbing uncontrollably which fueled panic in gyuvin who didn't know how to properly comfort the girl, especially being the reason shes crying in the first place.

"no i don't like anyone, but i'm sorry i can't go out with you please stop crying.." he nervously patted her back in an attempt to soothe her but it had only made her cry louder, hence he stood and did nothing at all.

"oppa, you like y/n don't you?"

"what? no.." gyuvin felt a lump in his throat, his head suddenly flooded with thoughts of you, his best friend.

"so you do.. lucky them." the girl wiped the last of her tears before cowardly running away, leaving gyuvin dumbfounded with a new thought clouding his brain.

'do i like y/n?"

read chapter 2 here!

-> extra note : this is also gonna be two or three parts SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG but i hope you enjoy it because this was really cringe when i wrote it 😅 (fyi the opening was based on a recent film i watched on netflix called omg (oh my girl) its really good highly recommended!)

[canyonkingdom]

love i share

(robocar poli oneshot)

(tw: illness, depression, assisted $u|c|d3)

It's the dawn of my creation. The moment I opened my eyes, the world felt otherworldly.

The first faces I saw were of shock,

but they were basking in unmasked love.

They were my family. Poli and Roy served as my older brothers full of responsibility dare they take up. Amber was my mentor, my undying platonic strewn over. (And whenever leaking spur, my mind was all about her uncontrollably.)

I had been the cheery little brother my team, my family, had grown to see. We were happy on our own, but felt happier ruling over the town. Superiority at its finest is when we plead our strength. We have arms and legs while the inept citizens have wheels to compensate.

We were cars, robots, robocars living until the day we rust hundreds of years later. And there was our leader, our stunning, intelligent, beloved leader. She was a human, unlike all of us superiors, but we grew to love her as part of our team.

"I promise," the sweet dripping from her voice, "I will never leave you." Her love bloomed.

She called me Helly. I was the most loved, yet most hated. Childlike and preserved I show, her tiny hands roaming my metal frame as she looked for imperfections.

She was a mother.

Only pure sweet I felt, none drenched in bitterness. A holding hand reaching me out, tenderness when I touch.

Us four do her every bidding. Independent we are, yet dependent on love. She nurtured us despite her lackings. Every rescue, a fresh coat of paint. Every accident, kisses goodnight. We were grown and we cherish a mother's love dearly.

One dawn in October, I scurried to the control room like a lost rat. My mind didn't fathom any activities yet I felt energetic. I was halted by a ear piercing scream.

Mother woke up. I snuck to the door, peeking slightly. Breathing so fast she did, her hair unkempt. Her hand wavered to the air, looked like she was touching something.

Or someone.

"Is it my time now?" she asked bewilderingly.

Slowly, she nodded, I could feel tears running through her. She sighed, yet a big grin flashed on her face. Light through the dusk basking in the headquarters. I felt confused.

I brushed it off soon after.

I should've come back to it.

It deeply hurt us when October came.

"Tuberculosis." I wish I could unhear the doctor's stern words.

How couldn't we notice? Her frequent coughs, fevers, tiredness; Smart us robots are, we aren't devoid of knowledge when in need.

"It has spread outside of her lungs." I forced a sob. "There's a chance she may survive, but I believe it's by a wide margin."

Doctor's appointments mother always missed, as she never came, seeing herself perfectly fine. She didn't care about her deteriorating immune system, even if she couldn't stand up no more. I should've suspected something when she always tightly gripped her chest, wheezing in clear out of breath state, yet I failed to see her pain amidst.

"How much is treatment gonna cost?" Amber asked. Her eyes glowed with hope despite the previous words.

"It's three thousand dollars for the medicine, and if the patient wishes to be confined, it's twenty three thousand."

"That's pocket money!" Roy bellowed a laugh to lighten the grueling mood. "We'll do it-"

"No."

She was smiling.

"I refuse to take the treatment." She repeated in a longer statement.

The doctor was impaled with sympathy.

Arguing aroused at home. Once a happy household drowned in bickering.

"Why would you refuse treatment, Jin?" Amber asked devastatingly. Her voice cracked every cry and her anger chilled me inside. Laidback once now fuming.

Comfortable in her orange pajamas, "I would still die in a few years even if i take the treatment." her voice was small, weaker than of Ambers.

"But you would still live longer..." my voice quivered when I said that statement. I wanted her to live yet I wished for her death.

"My decision." she simply said. A small smile she wore. Her tired eyes extenuated her frail body.

Poli and Roy didn't talk to her out of anger, only when there are rescue missions. Amber frequently tried to get her to reconsider, yet she stayed true to her word. Mourning was pain in their vocabulary.

But I only wished her best.

She still ran the rescue station beneath her crumbling health. Rescue missions continued, the town blissfully unaware of her sickness. Her pain left ignored. Countless pleas made; yet she never complied.

"Please, Jin. Poli and Roy only want you to get better." Amber tried hard, downward spiral ensues.

"They should respect my dying wish." her lips were chapped as forced a smile.

Nothing was the same.

Arguments erupted about her illness I tend to stay sway from. I cower every shout, I fly away when glass breaks. My fingers touch the outskirts of town, where I banter with the inferior townsfolk.

"Wanna play ball, Helly?" Annoying voice Bruner used, I refused instantly. I'm weeping in my own sadness.

I stood at the edge of the cliff, admiring the stars above. I saw her eyes glowing in the stars. Her smile a million stars I felt.

I felt her love.

Yet I can never feel it.

The undying pleasure where love once shined basked in underlying darkness. Depressing environment I flew in, blooming flowers wilting.

Poli and Roy became distant. Sad glares chipped up their frames, dipped in hatred. They didn't speak with her (I didn't understand how they could leave her love untouched.) and came to the headquarters less and less. I worried for them, but I didn't care.

They left her.

Amber stayed, health deteriorated. Her tears made her rust, bright paint once ladled in sad rustic orange. I kept her bright, painting over the scars. Yet they still persisted. Her pain leveled with the tuberculosis.

They couldn't take care of themselves no more.

Thankfully, the missions died down. I became Amber's nurse, ironically. (Mother didn't want a caretaker watching her every move.) Calm her premature tears, engine oil leaking, I become despondent seeing everyone lose hope in my eyes.

I was in the repair center, she looked me dead in the eyes. I didn't feel love pulsating from her veins.

It's sad.

It's been months. Mother's health is down the drain. Amber was getting better, her mental state didn't. Her days spent by looking over the port, finessing the sea. She shouted at me when I disrupted her peace of mind (which it wasn't, she went insane). Amber long ago stopped convincing mother to take treatment.

I have been on her side since illness shown. Making small talk, and didn't rush her need to get treatment. I only wished her wish to come true, live her best life as I serve her day and night. But her love never bloomed once again, like a wilting flower, bits chopped.

It was a cold October night, I finished my patrol immediately going back to her side. I'm greeted by Amber in the door, her eyes sunk, her metal rusting once more. I smile at her dearly, and she smiles back. I make my way to her room.

"Helly," she says bluntly.

I open my mouth to speak, yet interrupted. "Meet me at the garden, strictly midnight." her frail voice reminds me.

This was going down a dark path, but I trust my guts, trust her mind. Her body was of thin breadsticks and a orange bonnet she wore, lost of all her hair. Yet one sweet smile still remained on her face, though pale and wrinkled.

Midnight came by. I spot Amber in the race track. She was sobbing. She was always like this and I leave her be. I fly to the garden solemnly, spotting her amongst the array of flowers.

I retract my propeller as I land. It was so peaceful. She was looking at the sky above, twinkling stars and the glowing moon. I love seeing mother happy.

She looks at me. She smiles. "You came."

"I always will." I reply.

"Helly, do you know why I didn't want treatment?"

I sigh. "Why?"

"I wanted to die, Helly."

My eyes widen with that answer. Never did I see her as suicidal, she showered us with her affection and never showed herself her own. I felt terrible, rust crawling through my metal frame.

"Don't think about it the wrong way," she sighs heavily, "I love all of you, Poli, Roy, Amber, and especially you. But-" she paused.

"Why?" I blurt out painfully.

"They're calling me, Helly. Heaven." angelic tears, "My dad, he's calling me. I've got to leave this world."

Her dad has been a controversial topic. Like her, he had gave her love, looking up to him. Yet he died, sadly.

"Why?" I repeat, more sincerely.

"I miss his love, Helly."

Her painfully stupid but passionate decision shot daggers through my running engine. Death called her attention and was willing to sacrifice it just to feel love.

I forgot she was a real human, one that was amazing.

"I'm sorry," I say,

"I love you," I mutter.

She died, her glow fading in my arms. Her skin as pale as snow. Amber wailed so hard, cursing the world. I felt tears streak my frame.

Mother was a joy.

"I promise," the sweet dripping from her voice, "I will never leave you." Her love bloomed.

Lies.

For once, I hated her love. Selfishness engulfed her being. We wanted her to be okay, and she didn't consider our feelings in the matter. All she wanted was to feel love.

Love.

Poli and Roy returned for the funeral. Awkwardness ensued when we sat together. Though they were deeply cracked inside, they found a way to smile. All of us. Amber's rust didn't show.

"How are you?" Roy asks, his voice husky from crying.

"You left us." Amber mutters harshly.

"I'm sorry." Roy sobs, "I- i'm sorry, I was angry a- and I didn't- I didn't fucking- fuck!"

Poli kept his cool, weeping in silence.

Her dark umbre casket lowered down and covered in dirt. Flowers dumped at the grave. Poli on his knees, begging for forgiveness. I stood there blankly.

Life never returned to normal, for me. Poli and Roy wiggled themselves into Amber's forgiveness, yet I enver forgave them further. They were stupid for even returning after leaving her for a simple misunderstanding of decisions.

Yet the only reason they returned was because of,

me.

Their stupid asses will never know. Never further looking at the autopsy report. They will never know her smile when I wrapped my arms around her neck, the crack of her bones, how I sobbed on her body throughout the night. When Amber found it, she was speechless. Thought she died of her illness.

I hid the autopsy safe in my room, none suspecting a single thing.

That night, she was persistent.

"Kill me, Helly."

Her love blinded me.

I felt it.

Her love, shining once more.

I watched Poli, Roy, and Amber hug each other goodbye. I watched the consequences of my decision thrive.

-///-

I cried a little while making this and that says a lot

pls don't cancel me /j

[cathrrrine]

The Other Romanoff

Y/N Romanoff finds herself in a strange predicament when she lands in a universe drastically different to her own. The Avengers are basically non-existent in the present day, Yelena is nowhere to be found, her sister is dead and...all traces of her existence is gone.

Can she survive in a world where her identity means nothing? Or will she fade away before she even has a chance to find out how to solve it?

0 - TIME GOES BY

———

You stared at the headstone below you, touching the cold, chiseled stone with the tip of my fingers with great caution. Your eyes had scanned the name engraved on it thousands of times already at this point, but your brain hadn't quite caught up yet.

Natasha Romanoff. Daughter. Sister. Avenger.

Even though it was literally set in stone, you couldn't bring yourself to believe it. You had just talked to her on the phone three days ago, or at least that was the case in your world. This world was different. It wasn't the one you hated and loved at the same time, it was a whole other universe entirely.

You woke up 24 hours ago with an incredible ache in your bones and a migraine that felt like a grenade went off in your head. When you opened your eyes, you were in a different room—although, room wasn't exactly the word to define it. It was a warehouse, with high ceilings and mysteriously stained walls. It took half an hour for you to figure out how to exit the building, especially in the lack of light, and when you finally made it outside, you were greeted by a vast parking lot with no signs of civilisation whatsoever.

It took another five hours of walking to the nearest occupied building, a gas station that you nearly mistook for an abandoned lot. You borrowed the man behind the counter's phone in exchange for five dollars—all the cash you had in my pocket, thankfully American currency stayed the same—and dialled every single number you knew by heart. Natasha, Yelena, Tony, hell, even Clint.

Unsurprisingly, not one of them were in service. So, you went out from behind and hot-wired one of the two trucks parked there, the phone you 'borrowed' still in your pocket.

Now here you were, somewhere in Ohio, after googling for what seemed like forever in search of your sister after finding nothing you knew worked. The first search result that came up was Ohio, next to the words 'the late Natasha Romanoff'. You felt like your heart had been ripped out of my chest by the Hulk. Nothing could have prepared you for that moment, not even one of Natasha's elaborate schemings and notes. At first, you thought you were being tricked, and then you thought you had accidentally swallowed an edible before going to sleep and was under some drug-induced trance. But it felt too real for it to be fake. Nothing in your head would've been able to come up with all this on it's own, even if it was one of your greatest nightmare.

You didn't even bother googling anyone else, too shocked to think of anything else. You just hit the gas and drove all the way to the location where she was supposedly buried and found her headstone just...standing there, upright. Your body went through a series of shocks just trying to get to it up close. You were expecting for her to be there maybe, laughing with Yelena, Tony and everyone else who played a part in this stupid prank. But there was nothing but the drumming of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.

No one in their right mind would play this kind of trick on you.

You had been driving all night and had only arrived by daytime, around 7 in the morning by the looks of it. The sun felt warm against your skin, a steep contrast in comparison to the cold, dead feeling you had in your chest. You were so confused. You couldn't even begin to comprehend what was happening to you. It was like a Supernatural episode playing right before your eyes, but without the characters and the humour. Just you and your anxiety.

You knelt down so your head was somewhat level to the headstone. Your hand grazed over the familiar symbol engraved in the middle of the stone, just below her name. It was the Black Widow symbol, an emblem you had worn almost all your lives.

Ohio. It was somehow appropriate that she'd be buried here. A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as a memory from your childhood resurfaced.

"Friend of hers?"

You jumped, jumped at the sudden sound of somebody's voice. Somehow, with all the noise in your head, this somebody managed to sneak behind you successfully without my knowing. You put your hands on your knees and lifted yourself up, turning around to face the stranger.

Who turned out to not be a stranger after all.

Your eyes widened at the sight of him. It's been such a long time since you've seen him in person that it almost felt surreal...but then again, what about all this didn't?

It was a relief to see a familiar face in a strange world. You took in his brown eyes and lopsided smile, unable to hold in a reciprocal reaction. "Sam!"

Your excitement got the better of you that you had forgotten the situation you were in. His reaction immediately changed, like you flipped a switch by yelling out his name so casually. Then the smile returned, "Sorry. I forget myself sometimes. Yes, I'm Sam, nice to meet you. What's your name?"

He held out a hand for you to shake. This time it was your turn to falter. Having one of your best friends whom you've known for half of your life ask you that question felt like taking a baseball bat to the stomach.

Sam seemed to notice the shift in your demeanour, especially since his hand had been hanging in mid-air for half a second too long.

"Are you alright?" He asked, eyebrows furrowed. He placed his hand back to his side.

You had no one else to turn to in this strange world. You wondered for a split second if you should figure it all out on your own and maybe wait and see if this was all a dream. But then if this was indeed a dream, what would the harm be in telling him, right?

As Nat would usually say in any type of situation–Fuck it.

"No, Sam. I'm most definitely not okay." You breathed out. "I'm Y/N Romanoff, and I think I might be in some deep shit."

[cheelduh]

How to bet your way into someone’s heart. (Highschool AU)

Pairing: Childe x fem!reader

Warnings: Fake weed. Poor Signora smh. Oh yes, lots of swearing. UNEDITED ASF IM LAZY BYE.

Synopsis: Childe is being an infatuated idiot, Lisa has eyes for vending machine chocolate, and Kaeya is desperately in need of a pencil. With all these distractions, there’s no way in hell you’ll be able focus on the task at hand.

This is crack.

I don’t have time.

You think as you race down the hallway, shoes slapping against the floor as you expertly dodge multiple students in your way.

Bullet. You're as fast as a bullet, because everyone around you is a blur and you don't stop, can't stop, not until you meet your target.

It's funny how one can accomplish many challenges and feats they were unable to, merely due to pressure. Pressure is a twisted ugly thing that can gnaw its way into the pit of your stomach and grow like a parasite. Pressure is a parasite that can either bring the best in you, or the worst, but at the cost of one's peace of mind.

"Move it Signora!" You shouted a warning at the senior blocking your way. There wasn't any time for you slow down at that point, and you'd risk bumping into the breakfast club's stall if you swerved to the side, sending juice flying everywhere.

Signora's eyes widened momentarily, getting the gist albeit her anger, and choosing to back up flatly against the locker.

Her lipstick nearly slips from her fingers as you swerve past, a thick gust of wind in your wake.

It messes with the hair she woke up two hours early for.

Signora plots her revenge. You still don't have time.

You nearly kick the door to your home room down, but you can't risk the perfect image your teachers have of you. So you pat down your t-shirt, take five tempting deep breaths, and tentatively knock the door.

The door opens and you're met with a young man, familiar amber pupils welcoming you.

You try not to huff and puff at the cost of your stamina. Thinking back, there's no way in hell you could have physically been that fast.

"Good morning Y/N," Your homeroom teacher gives you a small smile, moving aside to let you in. "Class is just about to start."

You check your watch, then turn to him with an apologetic tone, trying not to crack under the eyes of your classmates. "I'm so sorry Mr.Zhongli, I slept through my alarm."

Your idiot ass forgot to set one because you studied till four in the morning.

"You're like thirty seconds late, cut the shit." Beidou boos from the back, causing your stance to stiffen.

"I don't wanna hear it Beidou. If anything, you're two periods earlier than usual." Ningguang calls her out for you, but you have a feeling it's more so on behalf of a personal vendetta.

Ignoring the two bickering, Mr.Zhongli gives you the handout. "Take a seat. Do not fret over such minuscule things dear."

Relief washes over you. Your impeccable attendance is not on the line.

Childe tries to flag you down next to him but you send him a pointed glare and sit next to Lisa instead.

"You should give him a chance you know." Lisa doesn't even have to open her eyes to know what's going on.

"Please," You scoff, digging through your bags to collect your notes. "As if I have the time to fool around with a shady kid like him."

Your friend sighs in disapproval, and makes no move to take out her own notes as Mr.Zhongli begins the lecture on the Archon war.

"You should really pay attention." It bothers you that she doesn't, but then again it's not your place to tell her what to do or not to do.

"I don't need to." She yawns, blinking an eye open towards you. "I have you after all."

"I'm tired of saving your ass." You groan and pull a pen out of your pocket to get started on the exercises as Mr.Zhongli talks in the background.

The course outline contained all the topic, and you made sure to teach yourself as much as you could before class to stay ahead.

Immersed in the worksheet, you blinked away your sleep and tried to answer as many questions as you could at the moment. You didn't hear the slight shift next to you, and the change of breathing, or the rate of which time went by.

A familiar scent makes its way into your nostrils.

"Lisa. Why do you smell like mango juul juice." You know the scent from when Signora blew a mango flavoured fog in your face yesterday at lunch when you said you were hungry.

A chuckle erupts and you freeze in place. "That's because I'm not Lisa."

You blink. Once, twice, and then crane your head to the side to meet a pair of teasing cerulean eyes.

Fingers loosening in shock, the pen drops on the desk with a short thud.

You whisk your head towards the front of the classroom, and Mr.Zhongli is nowhere to be seen.

"There's no saving you now." Childe's smirk widens, and he scoots closer to you. "Mr.Zhongli had to get something from the staff room. The staff room is near the cafeteria."

"Which is also near the merch stall." You grumbled, bringing both hands to massage your temples as a headache is beginning it's reign.

"Tsk tsk. Smart girl. I'd like to add that he's forgotten his wallet in his office as well, which is in the south wing."

"Son of a..." You mutter underneath your breath, and opt to scoot further back, but your efforts are futile because your desk is in a corner.

Your next beacon of hope is Lisa, so you scan the room full of chattering students, only to find her pestering her crush, Jean.

Shit...there's nothing getting you out of this one.

"What did it take?" Is your only question, the despair starting to brew. How much did it take for your best friend to betray you?

"A dollar and fifty for vending machine chocolate."

You take a moment to breathe, calming your nerves and burying down the urge to screech. "What will it take?"

"For what?" Childe replies back innocently, and you can't believe how fast he can change masks. You almost give in.

"For you to leave me alone."

"Aww come on girlie," He whines, closing in the distance. "Don't be so cold."

What did your mom tell you that one time? Oh yes. That if you were ever backed against a wall, then just break the damn thing down.

Too bad it's figurative. You're just about ready to sock him in the face if you didn't know he was into that sort of thing.

"I'm serious about you," He says, and it sounds so real, so genuine, nearly makes you sputter. "See? I've even bought school supplies.

He unzips his light backback and spills the contents on the table.

A lone piece of paper flies out, a lighter, and a mechanical pencil with no lead that follows straight after. There's also a pocket knife that you choose to ignore.

You're not the least bit surprised.

"First of all, how the fuck are you passing this class. Second, do you really think I'm into nerds?"

"Well, considering that you are a nerd—"

"You're making things worse."

"My bad, my bad." He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "But on a serious note. I'll do anything."

You cross your arms. "I'm not just another one of your conquests Childe. It's not like I have the time. There are better things to do."

"You need to relax." He says so simply, with complete disregard as to what you are trying to say.

"I am relaxed." You reply, picking up your pen to continue your work. If he's going to annoy you, then you might as well get shit done while he's at it.

You're not wasting any more time.

"When was the last time you got a full eight hours of sleep?" His voice is soft, too soft, and it's not at all like the Childe you know.

Your pen stops momentarily, but you will yourself to continue writing. The words look fumbled, but you don't care. The best thing to do is get your work done and ignore the idiot next to you.

"C'mon, Zhongli won't be back for another half an hour at least. Let's go." He kicks the bottom of your chair to urge you.

The pen shakes in your hand, and you narrow your eyes at the paper, digging holes into poor question eight. "I'm trying to work here. Let me work." You'll say anything to get him off your back.

"Fine fine fine..." He raises both hands in mock surrender. "I'll stop bothering you."

Your ears perk up at that, and you turn to him so fast he has to hold in his laugh. "Really?"

"Yeah," Childe nods along, bringing your hopes up. "If you win a bet, that is." And they're back to ocean level.

You roll your eyes. There's always a catch. That doesn't mean you're any less interested.

"What's the bet?" You ask curiously, all your focus now on him. Just as he longed for from the very start.

He flicks a thumb towards the door, leaning closer to whisper next to your ear. "We bet when Zhongli comes back."

"Are you kidding me?" You aren't bothered at all at the close proximity, mainly because you're too tired and only care about the freedom that will come with your win.

Childe, however, is a completely different story. His heart is beating a thousand times a second, but his face doesn't show it. Not one bit.

Kaeya leans in from the seat behind you two, interested in what's going on. "Ooooh secrets."

"Shut up Kaeya." Childe and you monotonously drone in sync, still having your little staring contest.

The captain of the skating team smiles, about to ask—

"No. We don't have an extra pencil. Even if we did we wouldn't give it to you." Childe finally breaks his gaze to scare off Kaeya.

Kaeya raises a smug brow, and leans back in his chair like the jerkwad he is. "Then don't let me keep you two love birds."

That's all it takes for him to earn Childe's unwavering respect and loyalty for as long as he lives.

After the two are done creating an elaborate handshake as a mark of their newfound friendship, you decide to just forget about the handout. It's not like you're getting anything done anyways.

"Anyways, back to the bet." Childe says, resting his cheek on his fist as he stares at you dreamily. You try not to break under his gaze.

"If I win, you have to go on a date with me."

"No way in hell—"

"Then I'll bother you for the rest of highschool."

Highschool is eternity. You don't want to live through an eternity of this.

"Fine." You answer, and for the first time he sees genuine fear in your face, it makes him waver slightly. Not enough for him to pity you.

"If I win..." You trail, thinking loud and clear as you ignore the excited chatter of your classmates. "I want you to pay attention to class."

"What?" He exclaims incredulously, blinking in disbelief. "I thought you'd get me to stop talking to you altogether."

"If you're paying attention in class, you don't bother me as much and your grades go up." You grin smartly, and oh archons it livens his entire day up, and it's only nine in the morning.

"You care about my grades?" Childe bites back a smile.

"Not at all." You lie, and quickly look away. Woah the floor tile looking trippy.

He decides it's better to get on with the bet without causing you any more distress. After all, you've given him such cute facial expressions today. He's feeling quite generous.

Pulling out his cracked-as-shit latest model phone, he unlocks it and tinkers with it a bit before turning the screen towards you.

"We'll be using this to time both of our predictions at the same time. Whoever has the closer time to when he finally swings by is the winner." The rules are simply put, no room for error.

You tilt your head in confusion. "Why am I seeing a slime review?"

"SHIT!" Childe fumbles with his phone, aggressively tapping on the screen. He lowers his head and voice as if he's been through fifty consecutive hits in the face. "It's uh, Teucer's account."

"Yeah...okay." Is all you can say.

"Ok what do you bet?" He changes the topic to unfuck the situation.

Putting a finger in your chin, you think for a minute, calculating the average of all the times Mr.Zhongli has left the classroom for a considerable amount of time.

"Fifteen minutes." You're sure of it. It's like clockwork every day.

"Hmm..." Childe crosses his arms, seemingly in deep thought. "Five minutes." He places his bet, and both timers start simultaneously.

Five minutes?! Is he serious?

You laugh inwardly. This challenge is in the bag.

The sense of victory you feel dulls when your ears pick up the echo of footsteps nearing the classroom.. Both your heads snap up to the doors.

There's something scary about Childe once his competitive side comes out. "Looks like I've won." He turns to you, eyes darkening evilly.

"What? There's no way in hell a ginger is right." Your palms are clammed up, eyebrows furrowed in panic. You calculated every single variable, how could this be?

You race to the front, Childe right on your tail as the entire class clamps up. The footsteps get louder, causing even whispers to become total silence.

Then it hits you. The shitty music about getting bitches and bars playing on the other side.

The door is swung open by Childe, and you're face to face with an idiot sophomore with a speaker in his pocket.

Childe’s grin is long gone, and you sigh in relief.

The false alarm encourages the class to return back to their idle chatter.

"Scaramouche?" Childe spits, narrowing his eyes at the unamused boy. "I thought it was Signora's shift today."

By "shift" he means being a complete dickwad and scamming fake weed to students in return for their souls. It only really works on the freshmen.

The only reason the club still runs is because Signora threatened the principal with some sus pictures she snapped of him and his assistant.

"Apparently she had an emergency." Scaramouche explains, lowering the volume on his outdated beats pill. "Something about a hair appointment because she got ran into by a, and I quote "lecherous imbecile.""

You steer clear of the conversation, finding the whiteboard far more fascinating and worth your while.

A loud cough is heard from behind the kid, and you're met with a crestfallen look on your beloved teacher's face.

You go through a whiplash of emotions, becoming completely numb towards your loss.

"They were out of slow cooked bamboo shoot soup." He sighs, handing a stack of papers to Childe, who is wearing the fattest smirk on his face at his victory. "Please hand these out to your classmates Childe, and we will begin shortly."

You check down at the timer despite knowing who’s won. Five minutes and twenty five seconds. Somehow, you don't feel as dejected as you thought you'd feel.

Maybe the date will be fun. Maybe Childe isn't so bad. Maybe...you do have time to indulge in these sort of things. If he’s so hell bent on getting your attention, perhaps it’s possible that you can make some room in your heart for him.

However, all those thoughts fly out the window when Childe hands you the new worksheet.

“I hope you're ready for our date tomorrow. We'll be sparring till sundown, and after you’ll be feeding me with chopsticks." He winks, and it makes your heart flip even though all you want right now is to go to the bathroom and barf your guts out.

Feelings are complicated.

You smile back at him nauseously, tight lipped and all, then you pull out your phone, go on maps, and search for the closest cliffs to jump off of.

After he's done, Childe slouches back in his original seat with a different kind of enthusiasm, and opens up his messages. He texts Zhongli a "thank you <3".

[break-me-kacchan]

One hundred sleepless nights

Word count: 3930. 

I was thinking about making this a small series. Let me know if you would like a part two please.

Summary: I thought of doing a little story based on the song one hundred sleepless nights- Pierce the Veil. You and Bakugo were fuck buddies. Have been for years when the unthinkable happens. 

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

A text that read “He’s gone, come on over” was all Bakugo needed to finish what he was working on and to head over to your home. Every time Bakugo pulled up to your home he always felt annoyance prick at the back of his skull. He could give you this big house and all the finer things you had come accustomed to with the addition of a caring partner. Not one that slept around with other women and certainly not one that would let you stray and become another man’s lover.

He slid out of the driver seat of the vehicle he was driving and clicked the lock button as he took the steps down the front path to your front door. He paused on your front porch; this part was still awkward for him. The choice between opening the door or knocking. He stood his head hung a little low as his fists clenched and un-clenched. He was lost in thought and did not notice you opened the door until you cleared your throat.

His head whipped up a smile creeping onto his features but when he saw your tear-stained eyes the smile stopped completely.

He rushed over to you as you stood one hand on the door and the other shoved into the pocket of Bakugo’s hoodie you were wearing.

“Love. What’s wrong?” Bakugo asked rushing forward to pull you into his embrace. Your head rested against his strong chest as your breath drew in his sweet smell. You relaxed slightly but only long enough for another sob to rack your body as it pressed against his chest.

He never wanted to see you like this, not even in the beginning.

*FLASH BACK*

You stood in the corner wearing an 8 thousand dollar dress your husband picked out for you. You gulped back the rest of the champagne in your hand before placing the glass on the tray of the waiter passing by and grabbed another glass.

Your husband was a well-known scientist. He assisted heroes with making adjustment to the equipment they use and their costumes. He was brilliant and when he asked you to marry him at such a young age you were blind. You agreed and just after your 18th birthday you were wed to your high school sweetheart.

Here you were, wearing a beautiful; backless; emerald floor length gown. The Hero Gala, where heroes spoke with the men and women who helped them upgrade their hero gear needs. Also, company awards were going to be given out, by your husband of course. Your husband, the man you haven’t seen in almost 3 weeks, returned this morning from his vacation with his mistress just for this Gala his company was holding.

It wasn’t always like this between you and the man that you married. It was good once but he started to make a name for himself and suddenly you weren’t the only one he wanted to scream his name.

He started to change though. You noticed after moving into your first home that things were different. You cooked dinner and made your husband’s lunch as you always did, even when the two of you had plenty money, you continued because you thought he liked the love notes and special snacks. Long story short he didn’t and it wasn’t until your husband was a big shot in his company getting ready to venture out on his own you noticed he didn’t.

The lunch you had made for years was left in the fridge every time you got up to start your day lately. He no longer came home for dinner and finally he slept out at least 3 nights a week. You knew what was happening but refused to believe it, at least you tried until you went to his office to see if he wanted to enjoy lunch with you and that’s when you caught him. Pants around his ankles and his hands gripping some intern’s hair as he bobbed her head back and forth.

By the time your husband noticed you it was already too late.

When the two of you spoke about it he had said he had love for you but wasn’t in love with you anymore. You understood, he was amazing, of course he felt this way about you. When he had all those other women of course he didn’t care for you like that anymore. He didn’t want you leaving even though he was the one who stepped out. All he could think of would be the scandal for his new forming company. He suggested an open relationship and suggested you have “friends” as well.

So there you stood, in the corner drinking champagne by the mouth full, grabbing another glass every time someone carrying a tray passed by. Feeling a little tipsy you stepped out onto the balcony behind you and you huffed against the railing over looking the gardens below.

You leaned over the railing slightly and looked down at the drop. It was maybe 20-25 feet.

“I wouldn’t jump if I were you, I might have to jump into save you.” The voice startled you. Turning quickly to see who was speaking you nudged the glass sitting next to you and it came crashing down below in the ground.

“Fuck, you scared me and now my drinks gone.” You breathlessly replied to the voice. Staring at the dark figure that was blocked by the shadow of the doorway.

You heard a chuckle and then saw the figure step forward into the moon light. ‘That’s Ground zero’ You thought to yourself. Your husband worked on the new improvement to his old cuffs. You know because you heard your husband talk about having issues with some of the improvements Bakugo asked for.

“Here.” Bakugo held out a glass of champagne and you took it, staring up at the hero.

“Thank you.” He nodded and stepped forward coming on you right side as you turned back to face the gardens. You sighed and took a sip of the glass.

Bakugo swirled the champagne in his glass and turned to the left looking at you. He could tell you were tipsy by the way your cheeks flushed as you took another sip of your glass, half way gone now since he handed it to you a moment ago.

“So what brings you out here when you could be in there mingling with everyone?” You asked as you finally looked over at the man standing next to you.

Bakugo chuckled and placed his free hand on the back of his neck rubbing it slightly.

“Tch.” You nodded you head to his answer and looked behind your shoulder back at the party going on behind the two of you.

“There’s all these damn extras in there and they keep coming up to me all flirty and easy.” It’s fucking annoying.” He huffed out and his eyes squinted in agitation. You scanned the crowd and from where you stood you could see your husband standing next to a beautiful blonde woman. He was so close to her, moving a piece of hair out of her face. Even from that far away you could see the blush on her cheeks.

“At least your husband isn’t trying to shove his dick in any girl interested.” You said nonchalantly turning back to the gardens.

At your comment Bakugo’s head turned to see exactly to what you were referring. Your husband, a man Bakugo has worked with, was whispering something in some girls ear.

“You let him do that?!” He scoffed and turned back the same way you were. He took a sip of his drink and looked at you as you spoke.

“He does what he wants, always has.” You sighed and looked down at the ring on your left hand. “I thought he loved me but I know he doesn’t. At least, not anymore. It was his suggestion to keep or marriage together while-“ Tears started to brim your eyes. It still hurt to think about.

“He goes out and fucks other women while his WIFE sleeps in a bed all alone? That’s fucked up.”

You snorted a laugh and chugged the rest of your drink. He looked over and watched you as you spoke softly.

“In the beginning sure, I let the guilt of him choosing other women take over me. I couldn’t eat, sleep or be happy.” You turned your attention to Bakugo instead of the gardens. ���But you know what, I woke up one day and decided if this was going to be my life than I would live it. Now he fucks whoever and I spend my time doing things that make me happy.”

Bakugo turned his head to look at you as you closed your eyes and took in a deep breath.

“That’s still fucked up.” He grumbled.

You turned opening your eyes to look at Bakugo. His hair stuck up in different directions, his jaw line was covered in stubble, and he had the most beautiful red eyes you had ever seen. His chest was broad, and his arms were strong looking. All the alcohol wasn’t helping as you caught yourself staring and sunk your teeth into your bottom lip.

“Yeah well, when everything is fucked up you just get more fucked up.” You held your empty glass of champagne and wiggled it in the air. “Would you like to accompany me to get another drink?” You asked as you picked up the bottom of your dress with your empty hand.

Bakugo reached out and caught your wrist before you could step forward. You turned and started at his face.

“You need a real drink none of this champagne crap.” His had slid down your wrist until it clasped your hand. Your fingers intertwined with Bakugo’s and he squeezed your hand and led you through the crowd at the Heroes Gala and to the front door just as someone stepped onto the stage taking all the attention in the room so the two of you could slip out without being noticed. Once you both made it outside Bakugo handed his ticket to the valet and a car pulled up a few moments later.

Bakugo removed his hand from yours and opened the passenger side door for you. You smiled and slid into the front seat. It was funny, you’ve talked to Bakugo for 20 minutes max and he was already more of a gentleman than your husband ever was.

*END OF FLASHBACK*

Your face was pushed against Bakugo’s chest as your sobs racked your body. You felt weak and sick. You couldn’t keep anything down and your husband decided to take a trip to Cancun with his mistress for the week and you felt so alone.

Well at least not entirely alone, you did have Bakugo nuzzling you into his chest and that made you feel less lonely.

“I’m so tired Katsuki.” You whimpered into the fabric of his t-shirt. Your eyes hurt from all the crying you’ve done today.

“Baby, it’s okay. Why don’t we go take a nap or something?” He moved his head from its rested place on top of yours and looked down at you. “Hmm?” He said after you continued your silence.

You moved back from him and rubbed your eyes with the corner of his sleeve. You looked up at Bakugo. A slight smile warmed at the corner of his lips and just when you thought you were done crying you started again.

The water works were uncontrollable. They came down your face in a steady stream and you gasped for air as you fell to the floor. Just before your knees hit the floor Bakugo caught you and swiftly pulled you into a bridal carry as he made his way to the couch in your gigantic living room.

“Y/N, I need you to tell me what’s wrong. I hate seeing you cry when I don’t even know why you’re upset.” He spoke softly to you as he got comfortable with you in his lap. He pulled a cover off the back of your couch and pulled it over top of you.

You looked up through your tears at the man you’ve fallen in love with. He is there for you when you need him unlike your husband who was off doing who knows.

The tears continued to flow as you looked at him and admiring his beauty. You loved him. You did, honestly. If he asked you would leave your life and your good for nothing husband and be Katsuki Bakugo’s girl but you know deep down that Bakugo is your lover and he didn’t sign up for any of this bullshit you and your husband had gotten into.

Reaching up you wiped your face again as Bakugo stared at you his eyebrows knitted in confusion his arms wrapped around your waist pressing you into his body. On occasion you had cried while he was with you but never like this. Plus, Bakugo didn’t really know what to do.

He was unsure because he isn’t a very emotional personbut he would be here for you no matter what. He wanted to be your hero, he wanted to treat you to date nights, movies and gifts on your birthday but that wasn’t his place to do that seeing as he was your mistress, and you already had a husband.

Thinking of your husband made Bakugo so angry. How someone so smart could be not only blind but fucking stupid was beyond him. If he had you he would never let you go.

“I’m tired Katsuki. I’m so tired of everything.” You finally replied to his question.

“ Okay… you said that already-“ You pushed away from Bakugo and stood up, almost loosing your balance but you caught yourself.

“No, I’m tired Katsuki, I’m tried of people I care about always leaving me. I’m tired of not feeling good enough, I’m tired of being pushed aside for someone else. I want someone to love me! I want someone to care for me that way I care! I have lived in this house for years by myself! I don’t think I can do it anymore!” You moved both of your hands to your hair and grabbed a fist full, gritting your teeth before yelling through them.

“I’m falling apart, I’m not sure if I can handle this anymore! It’s gotten out of control this whole-“

Suddenly Bakugo moved and was in front of you, grabbing your wrists. Pulling your hands from your hair he placed his lips against yours. You were so angry but as soon as his lips touched yours you melted. Your lips moving against his as his grip continued against your wrists.

He pulled away and placed his forehead against yours. You opened your eyes and met his in return.

“Your husband is a fucking idiot. He doesn’t deserve you. If you’d let me I’d tell him who your real hero is and then whisk you away where he could never find you.” Bakugo whispered and brought on of your hands to his lips and kissed the skin on the back of your hand.

You chuckled a small smile playing at your lips. You stood in front of this beautiful man and looked at him with tears-stained cheeks but he still thought you were the most beautiful person on the planet. You closed your eyes and sighed. A much as you wanted that you knew the truth.

“I can’t leave Katsuki it is more complicated than that, I’m-“ You started to tell him why you were so upset. Why you couldn’t just run away from your husband and live happily ever after, but he interrupted you.

“That makes no fucking sense Y/N! I’m offering to take you away from this shitty as life you have in this house! I want to take you with me when I leave, I want you to want to come with me!” He shouted at you as he threw his hands up in frustration dropping yours completely and turning to pace in front of you.

“Bakugo-“ You started again only to be caught off.

“It’s Katsuki!” He shouted tears brimming his eyes as he looked back over at you.

Your heart shattered and you lifted your hand to reach for him but he turned away again.

“Is he really that important to you that you’d let him walk all over you and treat you like this?! Cause given the chance I know I could do better. I think about you all the time, you are the only thing that runs through my mind! You’re going crazy? I’m going crazy being without you..” When he first spoke he screamed but as his confession lengthened he got softer. At the end he finally turned to look at you.

His eyes found yours as you stood one hand covering your mouth as you listened to his confession. Stepping forward to him testing the proximity. He didn’t move just continued to watch you. You quickly closed the space and wrapped both arms tightly around his neck standing on your tip toes.

“Katsuki, I need to tell you something.” You whispered into his ear. A blush rose to your cheeks as you thought about what you were about to say. You’ve been seeing Katsuki for a few years and had always been so careful.

“I’m pregnant.” Like word vomit it tumbled out of your mouth making you sick. The both of you were frozen against each other until Bakugo pulled you slightly away to meet his eyes.

His heart was sinking. It was over that perfect life with you he was dreaming of he will never have if your husband finds out he’s having a child. His eyes narrowed as he investigated yours.

“He must be excited.” He said as he removed your arms from around his neck. You were confused and slightly hurt. Didn’t he hear you? You said you were pregnant.

“Katsuki-“ You reached for him again but he stepped back.

“I should probably leave you alone then.” You breath got caught in your throat. “I wouldn’t wanna come in between your ‘Perfect’ family!” It was your turn to step back as his voice got loud again.

He knew that was not what you thought of your situation. Why was he acting like this towards you. Before you knew what was happening your hand reached up and hit him across the face. You were angry.

He grabbed your wrist after it connected with his cheek.

“Let go of me!” You screamed at him. The slap left Bakugo in shock, but it did clear his brain a little. He opened his mouth to reply to you when you yelled again.

“Get out of my house right now!” Your words cut him like daggers. Why were you so angry about his comment when you were carrying your husband child? Then it clicked that was her plan all along to invite him over and end things between them. ‘No’ He thought. ‘She wouldn’t do that.’

“Katsuki,” He perked up at his name and met your gaze. “Please leave.”

“Y/n. I’m sorry I’m just conf-“ He started to speak but you cut him off ripping your hand from his grasp.

“I’m serious Bakugo, I can handle this on my own since you want to act like this. GET OUT!” He flinched at the use of his last name. You rushed forward and pushed his chest with your hands as hard as you could.

He was shocked as you pushed him away and he slipped on the step leading to the entry way of your home. He landed on his ass as he stared at you. He could tell you were furious with him. You were still screaming but he couldn’t hear. Your hair was in the messiest bun he’d ever seen, his hoodie was way too big on you and your whole face was bright red. He tuned into what you were saying just as he stood up.

“-It’s not even his baby it’s yours! I haven’t slept with him in years, I’ve only ever been with you! Leave like everyone else! I can’t just run away! My whole life is tied in a big knot attached to the ring on my finger! Just get out Bakugo!” You jolted forward and pushed his chest again towards the front door.

“Just go..” You said as you pushed Bakugo towards the door again. He was in shock. You, Y/N L/N were carrying his baby in your womb. As quick as his excitement rose it faded just as fast as the situation dawned on him. He blinked a few times, and the threshold of the door caught the back of his boot making him fall for the second time.

His ass hits the stones as he looked up at you with wide eyes. You stared back at him radiating anger. He expected you to yell at him some more, but he wasn’t expecting what happened next.

You slammed the door in his face and if that wasn’t bad enough, he heard the lock slide and click into place. Bakugo sat there shocked staring at you front door hoping you would open it and invite him back in. After a few minutes he stood up dusting off his hands on his jeans.

He stepped forward and placed a hand on the door along with his forehead. He was just about to knock and yell your name when he heard you crying.

Your back was pressed against the door and your head was in your hands as you cried.

What were you expecting? A happy ending with a doating husband and a baby. No, you knew better than that. Your husband would care once he found out he was going to try to convince to stay with him and raise the baby. Your husband can’t have kids and you know this would only tie you to him further and make escape impossible.

Bakugo lifted his head deciding he cause you enough trouble today seeing as you were carrying a baby. He turned from the door and headed to his car. He looked back up at the big house.

You stood up after a moment and looked out the window near your front door and saw Bakugo standing there staring at your house. You thought he had already left. As stared out the window at the man you love you watched him turn to his car to leave.

“I love you Katsuki, maybe it could have worked if I hadn’t been so stupid.” You whispered to yourself as you placed a hand on your little baby bump. Thinking back to the agreement you made with your husband, his word chilling you to your core. ‘Any child you carry is going to be my child. They’ll be my successor.’

That was when you decided finally to take your life in your own hands. You went to your room and started shoving clothes in your suitcase. Once you were ready to leave you went out to your car throwing your suitcase in.

You stared at the big house standing in almost the same spot as Bakugo earlier. The only difference being there was no one to watch you leave. You slid into the car and started the engine, backing out of the driveway towards something new.

Little did you know your adventure would turn out to be a nightmare for one person and he was hell bent to get you back.

[thecandywrites]

Micro-mermaid Chenera Part 1

So, I know I'm, like two months late for Mermay, BUT. I had this amazing dream about micro-mermaids.

So hear me out- mermaids- half fish half human right? Deep sea mermaids/sirens would get HUGE to combat the pressure and stuff right? Well take it the other direction tiny pools in the amazon or the tropics, where we find guppies and betas and little very vibrant, very little fish but with a fantasy twist- micro-mermaids. Adults as big as your fingers, with kids and babies the size of your fingertips and finger nails, based on real fish, like betas, guppies, oscars, mollys, tetras and the like.

My mom ALWAYS kept at least one fish tank growing up, usually fresh water, one time she kept a brackish tank too, saltwater tanks were always too pricy for us BUT SO PRETTY TO STARE AT- AT THE FISH STORES. It's a life long hobby for her that she passed down to at least one of my sisters, my other sister is into guppies and betas almost exclusively and the different kinds and colors just within those two varieties are almost endless. And watching fish swim in a beautiful and healthy fish tank is documented to help out mentally and ease anxiety and even depression. Imagine what it would be like to have a tank of micro mermaids! Especially multiple kinds the way most will have multiple kinds of fish in a tank. I also got the idea from watching a documentary about how TINY little seahorses can be and of course My Little Mermaid- inner tween said 'tiny seahorse needs tiny micro-mermaid to ride it!' And of course seahorses especially are notoriously difficult to keep in captivity. If micro-mermaids were real, I'd imagine the same kind of thing. An expensive hobby that most would dump money into just for the privlidge of having their own wonder of nature.

And just like we have fish stores and fish breeders, think micro-mermaid breeders. Some are really good, others can be crappy, and this story follows a responsible, loving breeder, (more or less based on my mom who I love immesurably)

But me, being...well me, I can't write anything and not have a bit of angst, a good pinch of romance, eventual consentual smutty goodness and eventual happily ever afters. So...heads up.

Also since little fish tend to have shortened lifespans of only a few years, I'd imagine a micro-mermaid's lifespan would be similar in that they'd be shortened as well, so when you read cycles, that's in days. But also don't think of it as to the mermaids being years, if a micro-mermaid is 22 cycles, aka 22 days old, it's approxomately 11 years old in human terms so these guys are literally babies and kids when we meet them and get to watch them 'grow up' so to speak. So again, cycles=days divided in half= human years as point of reference.

But considering most merfolk in the ocean would live for who knows how long- if the average beta can live 2-5 years, lets say micro-mermaids can live to be 5-8 years old. Which compared to most little freshwater fish, is still, practically ancient. time passes differently for different beings, like dog years/human years/elven years kind of thing.

Cool? Cool. Let's dive in! (pun intended)

Micro-Mermaid

Chenera

Part 1

Ethel watched with baited breath from outside the glass as your parents gently used their billowy fins to circulate fresh oxygenated water across their eggs that had they laid in their small cave, made out of a large, fancy geode that Ethel had put into their tank to use as their cave to lay and hatch their young, the pockets of facets in the geode assisting to keep the eggs secure so that they would stay put and hatch successfully.

Ethel was a micro-mermaid breeder, and your parents were considered “royal chameleon” merfolk, a breed made special in that they could, like a chameleon, change their colors to suit their environment, but their fin structure and body confirmation was as if you crossed a beta with a mermaid, but in the micro scale, their large, billowy fins, long hair and plump bodies, an ethereal ideal for the subspecies.

And at a certain stage in their lives, she would put the adolescents into a much brighter colored tank, with things like hunks of gold and platinum and special rocks surrounded by color shifting fabrics on the outside of the glass so that the adolescents would always change into fancy, bright colors with precious metal accents and shifts of colors and special effects to their fins so that they could attract an equally colorful, healthy and vibrant mate and therefore, be worth much more on the market to enhance already immaculate genetics.

Ethel’s other tanks had schools of other micro mermaids of all kinds, from guppies, oscars, swordtails, molly’s, tetras and the like. Ethel was quite the collector and seemed to have every variety of micro mermaid both in nature and that could be bred in captivity and she was highly sought after in the industry because she treated each micro mermaid with the same tender loving care that she would treat her own children, if she had ever got to have them and her home might as well have been a mini aquarium since she ran one of the high end, micro-mermaid aquariums in the city and her home was where she bred the majority of her stock and her personal favorites that she was especially attached to.

Ethel preferred to sell mated pairs of micro-mermaids since micro mermaids preferred to mate for life but others preferred the “harem method” having a few females to a single male to get more clutches of eggs and thus, more micro-mermaids to sell since all the females could be laying clutches of eggs but that was usually harder on the female since she would have to care for the eggs mostly on her own since the male’s attention would be divided among all the clutches of eggs and even in the harem style, the male would prefer the company of his favorite and thus her eggs as well, and while that method got more micro-mermaids in volume, it usually always lacked in quality, the micro-mermaids would be slim, aggressively competitive and prey driven and would only live half as long, but wild caught micro-mermaids usually died before they could produce a clutch in captivity and capturing wild micro-mermaid clutches could be almost impossible since they usually hid them so well. Especially since male micro-mermaids could be very territorial once as mated adults. But before the mating process as adults, males could be housed together as kids and teens while in captivity.

Ethel had one particular tank though where she called it the “odds and ends” tank, where usually the last of her older micro-mermaids had clutches and died before the eggs could fully develop, where she would move the clutches into the large tank to be cared for by the community, something like an orphanarium for micro-mermaids that had a little bit of everything in it and to see so many varied individuals, and sometimes divided off into schools, it was one of her favorites to sit and watch and drink her tea.

She would even get clutches from other breeders, who would usually get overwhelmed or would run out of funds to keep the tanks going since micro-mermaids could be a very expensive hobby because they had a very specific and very demanding feeding and housing requirements depending on the subspecies, the salt water varieties being the most so. But in this particular room, was the “freshies”, she had other rooms in her house, the “brackies” or brackish water types, and her most coveted, the “salties” that room she kept under lock and key since the occupants of that room were worth thousands of dollars each and everything had to be controlled specifically and carefully.

Ethel usually had the laying and hatching process down to a meticulous science, she liked to keep her tanks at a specific temperature for the “incubation” process, where the eggs themselves would incubate at what Ethel had found over the years- was the “perfect” temperature so that almost all the eggs would hatch, the adults would be comfortable, but at the same time, the food she would put into the tanks to feed the micro-mermaids would not rot and attract flies or other scavengers who would try to fly into the house and prey not only on the mico-mermaid’s food but on the micro mermaids themselves.

You were one of the first to hatch, the egg’s shell breaking to allow you to break free as you squirmed out and into your father’s hands before he caught a few of your siblings who did the same before he cooed to you and greeted you happily as you opened your big eyes up at him and snuggled into his chest before he waited for your siblings to get their first and only milk from your mother, that would set up your gut to eat for a lifetime, before you were swapped out with your siblings and once you had your first milk, then you were brought up to the surface to get just a small breath of air so your air bladders would be filled and so you could navigate the whole tank easily before both of your parents touched your head, and the heads of all your siblings to the gold nugget in the tank so that all of you would have golden heads and hair, a trait that both your parents and Ethel prided themselves on.

It also served as a marker for which group you came from, your parents were the “gold standard” of the subspecies of beta-micro-mermaids. And other pairs had different metals or different colored stones so that each pair and their children would have that “mark” to signify which ones came from which parents for future breeding purposes, so that just by looks, they could decipher your genetics instead of having to go to the master gentics manual to decipher it all the time.

Now with the air in your air bladder and your first milk in your system, now your life fully began as you fully woke up and became conscious and thus wriggly and your siblings began exploring the tank as Ethel sprinkled in “baby bits” which was a composite of larve, krill, mackerel, anchovy, feeder-fish as well as algae as you and your siblings happily began “hunting” your first real meal, some of them using the surprise attack, whereas you and a few of your other siblings used the “stalking” method, hiding behind the roots and foliage of the plants at the top of the tank before you “pounced” and grabbed ahold of your favorite little bit and bit down into it, like a big loaf of bread that got softer to eat the more it was in the water as your tiny little teeth helping you eat it as you chewed it and held it between your two tiny hands and swam down back down to the bottom and sat in the soft sandy area, which was affectionately known as “the sand pit” with your other siblings who had hatched within the last few moments as your parents were busy helping the others that were hatching and repeating the process over and over until the whole clutch hatched.

“Well hello there beauties!” Ethel greeted as she waived with a big smile as you looked over and while your first instinct was to freeze and change into the color of your surroundings, to see your parents waiving back seemed to relax the rest of you.

“It’s ok, that’s Ethel, she’s the one who takes care of us and feeds us.” Your parents introduced before you used your tiny hands to waive back like your parents had as Ethel’s smile grew wider and more excited before she sprinkled in more “baby bits” for your siblings that would be hatching in the next few hours before she left and went to her other tanks to check up on the couples and the other clutches of eggs to repeat her process as she then tried to take notes of the other hatchlings and trying to count to see how many had hatched that day and once you were all full, you piled up in the silky soft sand to take your first rest from your first full day.

Since micro-mermaids aged quickly, it was only a few weeks and all of you had grown into playful rambunctious kids, swimming and chasing each other around the tank, building up strength and stamina, Ethel had turned the temperature of the tank down to a cooler temperature to incite your appetite and help you bulk up and gain a layer of fat over your buddening muscle and your parents had given all of you names to keep you accounted for as you learned language and all the various kinds of communication, at this point in time, all of you had the same gold heads and hair but could take on the colors of your surroundings so that some of you took on the sandy color of the “sand pit” or others had taken on the green color of the foliage of the plants that grew in the tank or the colorful geode and if it wasn’t for your gold heads, Ethel would have the hardest time finding any you in the tank besides your parent's who's colors for the most part had "fixed" into permanant colors. Your mother a colorful pearlescent, your father a striking metalic green, blue, purple and black.

The very few eggs that didn’t make it, your parents had given to Ethel to dispose of respectfully so as not to incite cannibalism and in the exchange you each got to touch Ethel's larger, but wrinkled hand and had carressed it as Ethel cooed at you, watching you all fondly and noting each one's unique colors and personality.

You had been one of the ones who liked to play in the foliage and plants at the top of the tank, often leaping out of the water to splash in the water at the top of the tank, a few times, hitting the lid, at first, it was on accident, then it was on purpose, to let Ethel know that you and your family were hungry as Ethel often chuckled at your antics when you would watch her make her rounds and feed the rest of the tanks.

“Who is keeping who here?” She would often chortle as she laid a few pieces of raw mackerel into the tank to watch your parents, you and your siblings, use little shards as "weapons" from the geode as well as little pieces of bones from previous meals to stab and attack the pieces and devour it, often having to fish out the bones out later with her little net. Micro-beta-mermaids had one of the most demanding and specific diets whereas the others wouldn't be so picky. But the better the food now, the better quality the micro-beta mermaid and better health and long life you would enjoy in later life. For Ethel, it was worth the money, time and effort to make sure each little being thrived the best they could.

Ethel's younger "adopted children" who she employed were more tech savy and had cameras set up on Ethel's most beautiful tanks with the more precious and prized occupants and set up a YouTube channel and live feed channels and seeing baby micro-mermaid babies hatch was always popular and Ethel's business boomed.

And while Ethel didn’t have children of her own, she seemed to adopt many who came into the micro-mermaid hobby and you saw many of the same people, most who worked for her would come and check up on Ethel on her days off and bring their children who often stared with big, starry eyes at you and your siblings as well as the others so that all of you got used to seeing different people so that when you would eventually be mated up, being moved into the store front wouldn’t be that big of a deal to you. It had been a tried and true method for Ethel for the last forty years and most followed her excelent example.

Then, one day, a small group fairies broke into the place and roused you from your sleep as you saw the glittering glows move around the room as you left the sleep pile in the sand pit to see what was going on and swam to the top and by now, you had grown big and strong enough to lift the lid as you cracked it open just enough to see better. But that seemed to be just what another was waiting for as you were grabbed and yanked from the tank as you screamed, all the water in your lungs splashing out as you watched in horror as other curious ones had also been yanked from their tanks and were being moved to a large plastic bag with hardly any water in it, as you squirmed and thrashed and took your little stone pick like blade that you always had tucked into the longer scales around your tailfin and stabbed at the vicious creature trying to fly you to the bag as the bag was picked up and several fairies were trying to fly it out of the house.

But your attempts to free yourself from it's grasp worked, it let you go and you thankfully landed onto the back of the other fairy, pick first so as to stab it by the heart, before you bounced off of it’s back into another lid of the tank, this tank being the odds and ends one, but the force of you hitting the fairy, bouncing off the fairy, and hitting the lid- shut the lid to keep anything else from getting in or out and had actually drowned the little vicious fairy trying to steal what it could from that tank and in the darkness, you swam until you felt the gravel of the bottom of the tank and swam until you found the deepest depression, under another cave and hid yourself in the darkness, using it’s dark nature to turn yourself as black as the night’s darkness itself, except for your gold head and hair which you used to hide in the deepest part of the little crevice like cave, moving the gravel around under it to make room for you to ball yourself into.

Come morning Ethel awoke to the horror to see that her home had come under attack as none of the micro-merfolk would come up from the bottom of the tank as she opened all the tanks and once opened the odds and end’s tank to see the drowned fairy floating on the top which caused rage to fill her as she knew that someone or something had incited the fairies of all beings to break in and steal her precious stock as she immediately tried to do some damage control and try to figure out who and what was taken as it seemed each tank had micro-merfolk-children missing because a full adult would have been too big and too strong to steal and would have drowned whoever or whatever might have tried to take them as she went to her other rooms, the brackish room was thankfully locked, but she could see little scratches and claw marks at the doors and especially around the saltwater room. But the freshies were in her livingroom and thus, open to the rest of the house, that’s why it got hit. Almost all the tanks were missing at least one child, the name of each child missing being written in the little bit of algae that had accumalated on the glass since the last cleaning as Ethel used a big magnifying glass to see it and then translate it from the merfolk's language as Ethel just kept crying, her tears streaking down her wrinkled and weathered face and falling onto her reading glasses.

Ethel offered her condolences to the families that lost little ones and made a memorial for the ones who had been taken and fed all the tanks a “funeral” meal, which was the most expensive and most comforting food she could as she made some calls to her friends and business partners and employees, as well as the police to see what could be done as soon the police arrived and detectives arrived along with all of Ethel's friends and neighbors came to give Ethel comfort as the police and investigators tried to document the break in and get statements from everyone about the theft and make notes so that Ethel, who had each and every single one of her micro-merfolk insured, could contact her insurance company and begin the claim process.

Meanwhile Nona had awoken to see a couple of his adopted siblings had been attempted to be taken but something had shut the lid on the fairy so their particular tank had survived from losing anyone. Although with it being the odds and ends tank, not much of really high value was in the tank to begin with. But looking out over to the other tanks in the room, he could see that the other tanks were mourning the loss of their own as the police were there, although they were finishing up the investigation and leaving with the drowned fairy and other pictures as proof of what had happened. But that also meant that they got a whole raw mackerel for the whole tank as everyone was feasting on it while he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye, something gold - flashing, catching the light before it disappeared again.

He paused in eating and took off a hunk and went over to where he thought he saw the glint of gold and heard the gravel move under the cave before he got down on his belly and peered into the crevis under cave that was it's own little cave he supposed but he didn’t see anything but black but felt the most subtle pressure wave, as if something was moving around in the crevice under the cave. He took a chance and simply set the hunk of mackerel down at the mouth of the cave and went back a fair distance to see if anything would come out and take it and hid behind the base of one of the plants and waited a few long moments before he could just barely see a small glimmer of gold again, before a small, light sandy colored hand attached to a small goldish sandy colored arm reach out and grab the bit of mackerel before it quickly took it back into the crevice and he could have sworn he heard munching sounds of someone eating it.

He quickly went back to the whole mackerel and tried to swipe a larger piece and carry it back to the crevice and tore it into two pieces and laid one at the mouth again as he slowly chewed on the other half, only he didn’t swim away, instead he sat and tried to peer in to see what was in there before he saw a glimmer of gold then it quickly vanished.

It was definitely another micro-merperson. He just had never seen anyone like it before.

“Hello?” He called into the crevice but you were still too scared to venture any closer.

“Are you ok in there? Are you hurt? What’s your name?” He asked but instead you just tried to sink down into the darkness. The water was different in this tank. It didn’t smell or taste like home. It was foreign to you and you didn’t know what tank you had fallen into. You knew some micro-merpeople did not tolerate intruders and you were afraid that if you ventured out, you would be attacked, you were unarmed and only an elder child, you were no match for an adult or even subadult.

So instead, Nona finished his hunk of mackerel and gently used his colorful tail fin to push the rest of it into the crevice before you took the offered piece and ate that too, not knowing when you would get another chance to eat again.

“See? I’m not gonna hurt you. But I just really want to know if you’re ok. Are you’re ok in there?” Nona asked worriedly as he came in and you backed up as far as you could and tried to make yourself as small as you could, folding up your own billowing fins as small as they could be before he came in and started gently grasping around the crevice for you.

“It’s ok, I promise it’s ok. I’m not going to hurt you.” Nona tried to reassure you as his fingertips grazed your fin and you quickly dove to another corner of the crevice to get away from him, but your movement caused the little bit of light to glint of your golden head and the shimmering black of your body as you moved and Nona could hear your labored breathing as he felt the water move around as you moved and settled again before he found the back of the cave and stretched out his hands as wide as he could and began to go forward again before you dove for the other corner on the other side, this time your outline was shown against the light coming in from the mouth of the crevice and all Nona saw was gold from your head, down your hair before it flowed into a shimmering pitch black again before Nona realized that you were no bigger than he was, in fact you were a little smaller than him and the scent on the water told him you weren’t from this tank, from another but he couldn’t recognize the scent because a clutch had never come into this tank from yours before. You were a kid, obviously from another tank, you must have been dropped in by the fairy, having grabbed you from another tank and trying to grab a second from his own tank.

“My name is Nona, and I’m 22 cycles old and we’re in the odd’s tank. You’re ok, you’re safe, no one is going to hurt you, not in this tank. Ethel’s really good about if there are any bullies, she pulls them out and puts them in the bully tank. You are not in the bully tank so you’re safe. I promise you, you’re safe. No one is going to hurt you. I won’t hurt you and I won’t let anyone or anything hurt you either.” Nona tried to reassure you as he came forward again as he closed his eyes and focused on the sounds of your breathing and even he could feel your fast heart rate pulse in the small crevice’s water, this time his hands forming an open reaching motion before his hands settled on your face and jaw before he opened his eyes to see two gold ones blinking back at him rapidly as he could feel your fast heart rate stay fast before it eventually started to slow before he chanced a small swipe of his thumbs on the apples of your cheeks as he just stared in awed wonder at you before you finally broke down and flung yourself at him and pinned him down onto the floor of the crevice, clinging to him and crying.

“It was awful, I saw all these pretty moving lights, it was glowing and glittering like the jewels do only it was from on the outside and I swam up to the top of the tank and once I did I was yanked out of the water and my mother always told me to keep a weapon in my tail so I took it and I stabbed at it as much as I could and it dropped me and I hit another fairy and I lost my blade and I fell down and I could feel the other monster that was at the top begin to drown but I just dove down and tried to find the safest spot I could but I didn’t know what tank I’m in and I thought I was in one of the shark tanks and I thought if I left, I was gonna get eaten!” You wailed into his chest as he wrapped his arms around you and comforted you.

“Do you know what tank you’re from?” He asked.

“No, I just know that my parent’s names are Avarian and Miralia.” You shook your head no.

“Ok, well I’m sure when Ethel cames back for dinner, once she sees you, she’ll know which tank to return you too so you can be with your family.” Nona consoled you.

He had never felt another mergirl’s hair as soft as yours, it was like it was softer than anything he had ever felt before, or felt one who was so young to have hair so as long, it went to your tail and usually only the elder micro-mermaids had hair that long but they kept it in braids to keep it from being tangled. But you were also a bit heavier than most girls would be at your age and your fins were bigger than his! He was a delta guppy micro-merman himself, known for their massive and colorful tails but his own was dwarfed by yours.

“So, what’s your name?” He asked again.

“Chenera.” You sniffled.

“Well it’s nice to meet you Chenera, like I said, my name is Nona.” He repeated.

“Do you know how old you are?” He asked

“I think only 19 cycles, 20, counting today.”

“Ok, so you’re younger than me.” Nona realized.

“Are you sure you’re ok? You’re not hurt or anything?” He asked again.

“I am.” You finally admitted as you could already tell there was bruising all over you and scratches from that vicious fairy’s claws.

“Ok, well do you want to go to the healer or do you want the healer to come to you?” He asked.

“Can they come here? I don’t want to leave.” You admitted.

“Ok, well, stay here then, and I’ll go get them, I’ll be right back ok? Two flicks of a tail.” He reassured you before he gently eased you off of him before you curled in on yourself in the darkness and he got out and raced towards the eldest merperson in the tank, who was especially inept at healing magic.

“I found someone.” He said as he tugged on her arm as she sat and ate the head of the mackerel, the best part of the fish.

“Found who?” She asked.

“The fairy that drowned in our tank, trying to steal the little ones, it was carrying another from another tank, she got away and hid under the big cave where we keep the half clutches. She got really hurt. Her body is all puffy.

“If she’s a goldfish micro- her body should be a little puffy.” She argued.

“She’s not like any other goldfish micro. She’s something I’ve never seen or smelled before.” He insisted.

“She’s hurt, she’s scared, she’s younger than me by a few cycles, she’s in the wrong tank and thinks if she leaves, she’s gonna get eaten. It took a lot just for me to get her to talk to me. Her name is Chenera, and she doesn’t know what tank she’s from. All she knows is her parent’s names. She says she’s hurt, she needs you.” Nona pleaded desperately.

“Ok, ok, I’m coming, I’m coming.” She finally relented before Nona practically dragged her to the mouth of the crevice.

“She must be a young one to fit inside here.” The elder- Thya noted.

“Chenera, I have the healer here, but she can’t fit in there, can you just come to the mouth of the cave so she can see you?” Nona asked before he stuck his upper body inside.

“It’s ok, she’s not going to eat you.” Nona reassured you.

“Here, I wouldn’t introduce you to anyone dangerous. Take my hand, it’s going to be ok.” Nona encouraged as he reached his hand out to you before you tentatively took it and he gently guided you to the mouth before you stuck your head out, your long golden hair suddenly picking up the cross current and being taken away in that.

“Oh my gills.” Thya murmured in awe.

“Hey Chenera was it? Hi, I’m Thya, I’m the eldest mermaid here and the healer of the tank, can you show me what hurts?” She asked.

“My head, and my back and, my arms, and most of my tail, just, everything.” You answered as you looked from her to Nona, back to her worriedly.

“Nona, go get Abaria and Fonta, she’ll need a mother’s touch.” Thya urged Nona but your tightened your grip on his hand ,kept him from going.

“Here darling, take my hand, let him go get some more help, he’ll be right back ok?” Thya offered as she offered her own hand to you before Nona simply put his hand next to hers so it wouldn’t take much for you to let go of him and hold onto her before you hesitantly transferred your hand from Nona’s to hers before he quickly swam away again and came back with three mother looking figures, the two Thya suggested and his own.

“Oh you poor thing! Did that vicious fairy drop you into here?” Abaria asked as she came and sat closest to you as the other mothers crowded around you as you nodded.

“Well you’re in the best tank in the place, we’re all found family here. No one is going to hurt you here. It’s ok to come out. Or are you too hurt to come out?” They asked.

“Come here darling. It’s ok. I know you must miss your mom something awful, but until we get you sorted out, I’m adopting you and I can be your mom until you’re reunited with your other one ok?” Abaria offered before you looked from Abaria back to Nona.

“She’s one of the best moms in the tank besides my own. She’s mom to most of the kids in the tank and she takes care of everyone like she laid the eggs herself.” Nona reassured you before you hesitantly crawled out of the crevice as the others scooted back so that all of you could come out.

“My goodness, how did all of you fit in there?” Thya asked once you were out and your fins unfurled. You had bigger fins than the adults even.

“Like this.” You contracted all your fins until it was just your body and a thin folded fin was behind you.

“You’re a plump little thing aren’t you?” Fonta noted.

“Not any more than any of my siblings, we’re all shaped like this.” You defended, unfurling your fins to cover yourself- self consciously as you pouted under her scruitinging.

“Well that’s good, that means that you and your siblings are well cared for and are fed well. And with a head like yours but a body like yours, it’s hard to know what tank you’re from.” Abaria sighed with an apologetic smile as she pet your head, feeling your silky soft hair before the other kids came around to curiously look to see you, all of them of different ages, some as young as three cycles and some as old as 30, one of the oscar-micro-mermaids, who was 27 cycles, already seeing all he needed to see, you were, in his opinion, the prettiest girl in the tank, therefore, you were going to be his future mate as the other girls in the tank looked at you with both weary suspicion, jealousy and a bit of pity because you clearly didn’t belong in the tank and with as black as you were form the chest down, you stuck out like a sick fin, but with a head and hair like gold, it was still a beautiful combination.

“Who’s that?” They asked.

“The fairy that attacked us last night, took her from her home tank and dropped her in here while they were trying to steal you guys.” Thya answered them.

“She didn’t fall from the fairy that came into our tank, she fell from way higher, like another was carrying her from way higher, she hit the fairy, hit them into the water, bounced off of their back, hit the lid and made the lid close and drowned the fairy, she saved us.” The kids that had been involved offered.

“Oh my gils, is that what happened?” They asked you as you nodded yes as Thya used the glowing of her hands to highlight all your bruises and cuts so that most of body glowed blue from injuries before she went through and healed each one, and noticed that the black then took on a midnight blue appearance, which she had never seen before and puzzled everyone around you.

“Oh you poor baby, come here.” Abaria gathered you into her arms and comforted you, and held you to her chest and gently rocked you comfortingly once your upper body was healed while Thya worked on your tail.

But sadly, Ethel left to go to work before the others could grab her attention. You spent the rest of the day talking to Thya and Abaria about what your tank looked like and what the names of your siblings were as it was clear to them that you were one of the more ‘special’ tanks but because of your coloring, you didn’t look like any of the other tanks that they could see from there.

By night time, though, the automatic feeders fed all the inhabitants of all the tanks and then not long after, the lights shut off, signalling it was time for bed.

But when Ethel came home late, the movement of her and her using the flashlight in her phone to make her way to her bedroom, was too much like the fairy’s light as you quickly squirmed out of the sleep pile and dove for that crevice again, hiding away as she passed and went to bed herself but once again, you were scared of coming out.

Your squirming had caused Nona to wake up again since he was nestled close to you, his hand in yours as his own instincts told him to stay put on the bottom of the tank until the light passed by but when he looked over to see where you had been sleeping with Abaria, her mate and their brood, you were gone but he had a feeling he’d know where to find you.

But the thought of sleeping on the gravel instead of the soft sand just hurt him to think about, so he swam around and collected bits of moss and leaves so he would cover the inside of that crevice so you would have a comfortable place to sleep for the night at least.

“Chenera,” Nona whispered when he came closer.

“Nona?” You asked as your head peeked out and saw him.

“A cave under a cave surrounded by gravel is no place to spend the night. Here, all this should make it a little more comfortable at least.” He offered what he had collected before you smiled gratefully at him, your white pearly teeth and golden head a sharp and beautiful contrast to the darkness before he passed each thing to you before you had Nona come in and help you to move even more of the gravel out of the way and dig down so that there was a deeper and more comfortable depression inside before Nona and you set the leaves down first and used the moss to make something of pillow before you laid down and refused to let go of Nona’s hand.

“Can you please stay here with me?” You asked, your big golden eyes too much for him to resist, even at his relatively young age before he laid down beside you, keeping himself between the mouth of the crevice and you as you cuddled into his chest, your fins wrapping around him as his’ tried to wrap around you in turn as he used his arm as your pillow as your hair was almost like a blanket for both of you as your colors changed again, a dark emerald, shimmering green now with black and gold as you settled down before he soon felt you relax completely and fall asleep before he did the same.

[jawritter]

Save Me

Summary: It’s hard to be the hero, especially when no one saves you. 

Warnings: Cannon level Dean Winchester depression. Mentions and hints of drug use, Alcohol abuse and excessive drinking, language, self loathing, maybe a hint of jealous!Dean? Dean’s in a very dark place in this fic, and it’s a tear jerker. 

Paring: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2013

A/N: This fic was based on the song Save Me, by Jelly Roll. The lyrics are in Italics. This fic was also beta’d by @miss-nerd95! Thanks so much hun! Please do not copy my work! I hope you all enjoy this one! 

Want More? Check my Masterlist!!! Want even more? Become a patreon, and as little for two dollars a month you can get exclusive fics first!!

**MASTERLIST**       ***BECOME A PATREON***

Somebody save me Me from myself I've spent so long Living in hell

Dean twisted the cap off of another bottle and downed the contents of the warm alcohol quick enough to make himself a little tipsy, and that alone felt like an accomplishment. He could hear Elieen and Sam in the room just down the hall from him, and honestly, it made him sick. 

It wasn't  that he disliked Elieen. In fact, he was the one that told Sam to go for it. She knew what they did, understood their lifestyle because she herself was a hunter and if Sam had a chance at being happy, who was he to tell him otherwise. It was more than Dean himself felt he’d ever have, or even deserve. 

He supposed this was the price of being the 'hero'. The guy who saved everyone's  ass. Why couldn't he be the one getting saved for once?

Eileen’s laughter cut through the silence  of the Bunker and drifted into Dean’s room where he pulled the covers up over his head to try and block  the sound. 

He was tired of living this way, but once he got drunk enough to not feel the lonely ache in his chest, he guessed it would stop mattering then. Then he could carry on with this shit-storm of a life he’d been reduced too. People thought Hell was lonely, turns out it was pretty much the same topside too.

They say my lifestyle is bad for my health It's the only thing that seems to help All of this drinking and smoking is hopeless but feel like it's all that I need Something inside of me is broken, I hold onto anything that sets me free

“Dean, you're getting too old to drink like that, man,” Sam said from his side of the table in the library where he and Eileen had taken up residence to look for another hunt. Dean hoped they’d fucking find one because he was tired of sitting here looking at them and just twiddle  his thumbs.

His liver desperately wanted him to find something to do with himself as well, not just keep on damaging it, and seemed to be screaming at him pretty loud this morning. 

“I’m fine, Sam. I quit the hard stuff a long time ago. I just need some sleep. Come get me if you guys come up with a hunt.” 

He got up and slid the chair back with more force than needed, but he hated it when Sam tried to butt in his life and tell him what he should and shouldn’t be doing. It’s easy to say shit like that when you don’t have to wake up to a cold bed every morning. 

Dean was just like everyone else. He craved companionship that didn’t come from some one night stand he picked up at a bar. He wanted a family, hell, he wanted to have kids someday. There goes that opportunity when you're in your forties and too damn broken to even get through the night without alcohol. 

“So much for being a good father figure,” Dean snorted to himself as he flopped down on his bed, letting the silence that stood in his room carve him deeper than any torturer from Hell could conjure up, or any wound his body had ever endured. 

Dean’s eyes drifted over to the almost empty bottle of Tennessee Whiskey on his nightstand, and he let out a huff. He would never tell Sam about the dime bag he kept in the hiding place under the floorboard of Baby for when things got really bad and he knew that he should stop doing this shit to himself, but it was the only relief he seemed to get sometimes. Today seemed like one of those days.

I'm a lost cause Baby, don't waste your time on me I'm so damaged beyond repair Life has shattered my hopes and my dreams I'm a lost cause Baby, don't waste your time on me I'm so damaged beyond repair Life has shattered my hopes and my dreams

Dean picked up his phone that was lying next to him on the bed, and somehow he started to dial your number, just like he’d done a thousand times over the years. It felt like a lifetime since he’d last seen you, but he always kept your phone number and would even dial it on occasion to just hear you say “hello” before he would quickly hang up. 

But he couldn’t do that to you, he couldn’t put you in the kind of danger his life seemed to be saturated in.  Besides there was no hope for someone like him, and if he thought he was fucked up years ago when he’d first meet you on that hunt in Wichita? Well, fuck if he wasn’t more in deep shit now than he’d ever been. 

Dean was sure you’d moved on by now anyway, he wasn’t going to waste your time on him. He was a lost cause. A shattered, broken shell of the former hunter when he was 28. Now it was all an act and a brave face until he could get stoned enough to get numb to not give a damn, because Dean fucking Winchester wasn’t allowed to feel. And as a result, he never did .

What if the night sky was missing the moon? And there were no shooting stars, to use wishing on you And all of my sorrows, I just wash them down It’s the only peace I've ever found. All of this drinking and smoking is hopeless but feel like it's all that I need Something inside of me is broken, I hold onto anything that sets me free

Dean didn't stop until he was tired of driving, but it was better than being in that Bunker with the couple fucking happy in love. He found himself in probably another state, but fuck if he even knew which one, they all looked the same after so many years on the road. A joint burning slowly in one hand, a bottle of cheap whiskey in another, and his back stretched out on Baby’s sleek, black hood. Nothing out there between him and all of his past years of regret but the stars, and the moon that shined out over the body of water he was parked in front of.

He was starting to feel the effects of his self-medication, and he knew he’d end up spending the night out here-which wasn’t much of a problem for him. At least it was quiet, peaceful even. That or he was just shit-faced enough to drown out the voices in his head that were screaming at him louder than usual that he would die alone, just like his father. Chasing his demons. 

If this little bit of pot and that little bit of alcohol gave him a little earlier out without having to actually pull the trigger? Well, fuck he’d take that too. He deserved nothing less than to die stoned, drunk, and probably in his own vomit. So much for being a hero. At this point though, he was pretty positive that heroes didn’t get saved. 

When the alcohol had run out and he had to lean against a tree to take a piss, he decided that he’d go crawl in the backseat and try to sleep it off so that he could play the hero one more day. That was, if he woke up

When he had flopped across the leather seats of the only real home he’d ever known, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed the number he was pretty sure he’d never forget. It rang and rang until he was just about to say fuck it, and hang up when you finally answered the phone. 

“Hello?”

Dean’s breath hitched in his throat, and he knew that he should've just hung up but for some reason, he couldn’t. He couldn’t stand the ache in his own chest any longer.

“Hello?” your voice said again as one silent tear slipped down his cheek onto the leather seat underneath him.

“Y/N, It’s Dean… I-uh, I’m sorry to call you so late.”

You could have heard a pin drop as your own heart picked up pace, your mind racing a thousand miles a minute. 

“Dean? Damn it’s been years. I thought you were dead!” you tell him in disbelief, sitting down on the concrete steps outside of your little house. His face still was a clear picture in your mind, the night he’d left you felt like it was yesterday as it was all those years ago. 

“Not dead yet, Sweetheart,”  Dean laughed almost humorlessly. It was too late to hang up now, so he could either lie to her, or he could tell the truth, he could tell her how lonely he really was and how much he regretted the day he’d left her all those years ago. “I’m-uh… I’m thinking about coming by and seeing you for a few days. It’s been a long time, and I just… God Y/N, I just really want to see you again.”

Your mouth fell open in shock. You could tell he’d been drinking by the slurred speech, but it was almost as if you could hear the cry for help in his voice. 

“You know you're always welcome here Dean. I told you years ago, and it still stands today, you can always come home.”

Dean swallowed the lump in his throat as the tears started to flow freely down his face now. “So you never moved on? No, Mr Right?” Dean tried to sound like he was joking, but honestly, he just felt like he sounded weak. Still, he had to know. 

“No Dean, I told you-it was you, and it would always be you,” you said, drying tears of your own away with the sleeve of your shirt. “I still love you, Dean, I always will. No matter how dangerous you say it is.”

Dean was about to hang up and tell you it was a mistake, but you had to go and say that. The internal battle was still raging inside of him, but dammit if he wasn’t tired of fighting it.

I'm a lost cause Baby, don't waste your time on me I'm so damaged beyond repair Life has shattered my hopes and my dreams I'm a lost cause Baby, don't waste your time on me I'm so damaged beyond repair Life has shattered my hopes and my dreams

You talked to Dean until he had passed out with the promise he’d see you in the morning. He told you over and over again that you should hang up on him, that you should rightfully tell him to fuck off, but you refused to. So now you stood pacing the front porch of the address you had texted to his phone last night. Praying, hoping that you’d see that beautiful black Impala that haunted your dreams pull down your driveway. 

Some of the things that he’d told you last night that he’d been through were horrific and you knew he wasn’t the same man he was all those years ago, but you also knew he still had the same soul. He saved you all those years ago, and now, it was your turn to save him. 

You didn’t breathe easily until you heard Baby’s engine purr and saw her coming down your street. It took all you had not to run to meet him halfway, and when he got out of the car, he said nothing, just wrapped his arms around you and pulled you tight into him-like you were a lifeline, and if he let you go, he’d never surface again. Little did you know that it was exactly what he felt.

“You’re home Dean,” you told him through broken sobs of your own mixed with his. 

And he was. Finally, someone decided he might just be worth saving too, and he was glad that it was you.

Forever Tags: @deanwanddamons @rvgrsbrns @bi-danvers0 @onethirstyunicorn @i-love-superhero @akshi8278 @lyss-dw79 @magssteenkamp @lemondropirwin @squirrelnotsam @hobby27 @spnbaby-67 @mrsjenniferwinchester @defenderrosetyler @screechingartisancashbailiff @thecreatiivecorner  @aflamboyanceofgays @vicmc624 @busy-bee-angel-misska @justanotherwinchester @brilovesdeanwinchester @idksupernatural @lyarr24 @amandamdiehl @love-jackles-37-blog @miraclesoflove @waywardsistershy @emoryhemsworth @dean-winchesters-gardian-angel @softsebastian @tatted-trina6​ @deanmonandnegansbitch​ @hayleeharling​   @flamencodiva​ @coldmuffinbanditshoe​ @bxbyizzy​ @rain-dance-goblin​ @itmejado​ @supernatural3002​

[themadlostgirl]

When It’s Cold (2)

*Horny teens are horny. Mild smut mentions ahead.*

~~~

I laid in bed watching the lightning flash outside my windows as thunder shook the room and rain poured down. As a child a storm like this would have had me hiding under my covers. Tonight though I watched the storm, every inch of my body on alert with every crack of lightning and thunder. The doors to my room burst open with a roll of thunder. A shadowed figured stood in the hallway. My heart hammered fast as I tried to see through the darkness at my intruder. A flash of lightning illuminated the once dark room and I recognized the jagged line down my visitor’s face.

“Felix?” I sat up straighter. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to make sure you weren’t scared.” He prowled closer, a wicked grin on his face as he got to the foot of my bed. “You always were so scared of storms.”

“I was…” I murmured. He was dressed only in a pair of pants. That same chiseled torso I had gawked at earlier on full display.

He crawled onto the bed until he was hovering over me. “Do you want me to stay?” His voice purred in my ear, “I can keep you warm if it gets cold.”

“Yes please,” I let the robe around me fall from my shoulders leaving me exposed. “Keep me warm, Felix.”

“Gladly.” He swooped down upon me.

~~~

I woke with a start. My body was wound up tight and I was tangled in the blankets on my bed. I gazed around me confused before the previous day’s events caught up to me. It felt like a dream that Felix and I had found this mansion last night.

Felix…

The real dream came back to me with stark detail. What had that been all about? I’ve never had a dream like that before. I never have dreams in the first place. Even when I do they’re nothing like that and most certainly do not feature Felix. Yet he had been the epicenter.

Half naked with a devilish grin looking down at my own nude body. I had wanted him to--to--

I buried my face in my pillow. This wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t gone to his room last night and saw him coming out of the bathroom. Why did I have to see that? Now I was having borderline erotic dreams about him. Oh screw borderline! I knew exactly what I had been hoping to happen and the aching between my legs only solidified it.

It’s not like I never found Felix ugly or anything. He was pleasant to look at. I dare say at times he was handsome but I never dwelled on it. Maybe a stray intrusive thought or two but they never went so far as my dream had. I couldn’t stop picturing it. Felix and I in bed, his large hands on my body, his lips caressing my skin…

I pressed my legs together as the image took root in my head. Maybe I deserve to indulge a little. For right now there is nothing to worry about. Besides, it’s not like Felix will ever know. My hand dipped between my legs as I let myself fall back into the dream. My body was extra sensitive since I hadn’t been able to indulge in this particular past time since Neverland. Not that I got to do it a whole lot there either. I swear there is absolutely no privacy on that island.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

And none here either it seems.

With a small whine I swung out of bed and pulled my robe in tight. I opened the door and Felix was waiting on the other side already dressed. Could it be considered poetic irony that the boy I had just a moment ago been masturbating to interrupted said masturbation?

“Did you just wake up?” Felix looked me up and down.

“Kinda. I figured I was allowed to sleep in. What do you want?” I stepped back and started collecting my clothes from the floor. 

“Get dressed. I discovered something you’re gonna wanna see.”

“Can’t you just tell me?”

“No. Now hurry up.” He closed the door and left.

With a sigh a pulled my clothes back on and followed Felix up a set of stairs to a hallway that led to a dead end. “This is what you wanted to show me? A wall with a picture on it?”

“Watch this,” He pulled the light fixture next to the painting and suddenly the wall came loose and rotated opening up a passageway into a whole new room.

“This place has secret rooms now. Very cool.” I stepped inside. “A library?” I looked at the books but there were no names on the spines. I pulled one off and flipped through it but all the pages were blank. “I will say I wasn’t expecting this.”

“Oh but it gets better.” Felix went over to the desk at the end of the room and pulled open the drawer. There was a button inside. He pressed it and a section of the floor popped up. I knelt down and opened the hatch and my eyes went wide. It was a safe!

I turned the latch and nearly cried at what I saw. Money. Just stacks and stacks of money! One less thing to worry about. We wouldn’t need to scrape by or get jobs. This safe could keep us comfortable for months! Years even!

“How did you find this?” I asked Felix.

“I like puzzles and I like to snoop.” He grinned pulling out a stack of hundreds. The band around it said ten thousand. Ten thousand dollars and there were easily a hundred or more just like it from what I could tell from the naked eye. We have someplace warm to sleep and we have money for food.

I started sniffling and I could sense Felix watching me befuddled. “Sorry, I just--” I took a deep breath and wiped the tears from my eyes, “We’re going to survive the winter. We don’t have to be hungry or cold again.”

“I know,” Felix pulled a few hundreds from the stack and dropped the rest back in the safe. “Now how about we go do that grocery shopping you were so insistent on?”

“Yes!” I hopped to my feet. We put everything back in place and left the room. I found a pad of paper and started making a list of everything we would need. Unlike Felix who had spent so much time on Neverland that he couldn’t remember who he had been before being a Lost Boy , I did remember who I was. I remembered the responsibilities I had before Neverland. What was needed when I was made to go to market. The grocery store wasn’t like the open air markets I was used to but it was still the same general concept.

Felix and I got weird looks as we entered the store and I took one of the trollies. My first stop was to grab some toiletries. Toilet paper, shampoo, body wash, loofah, deodorant, toothbrushes, toothpaste, floss, and even a set of razors in case Felix wanted to shave. Next we grabbed laundry detergent, dish soap, paper towels, spray cleaner, trash bags, aluminum, and hangers. We would need to go to a different store for clothes. Lastly, food. Now, being the designated responsible person out of the two of us I know we couldn’t just indulge in the sweets and other delicious yet not necessarily healthy food for us.

I sped up and down the aisles with Felix trailing after me as I dumped stuff into the trolley. Chicken, beef, bacon, vegetables, fruits, a ten pound bag of potatoes, bread, milk, two dozen eggs, pasta, rice, butter, flour, sugar, brown sugar, baking powder, baking soda, vanilla, yeast (it’s been forever since I baked anything but I figured I could give it a try), orange juice, apple juice, cheese, canola oil, olive oil, and spices. Then came on the things I knew less about, peanut butter, chocolate chips, gummy candies, dressings, chips, ice cream, instant brownie mix, pizza rolls (they sounded good), cans of soup, yogurt, pancake/waffle mix, whipped cream, cereal, granola bars, pretzels, and tea bags.

Our trolley was overflowing with items as we wheeled our way over to the register. The man bagging our items looked at us strangely as we started unloading our groceries onto the counter. Several minutes and a trolley full of groceries later we were given our grand total. I was scared that we wouldn’t have enough but thankfully we did. We left the store and looked at our haul.

“Hey, Felix,” I paused as we were halfway through the parking lot, “How are we gonna get all this back to the mansion?”

“We steal the cart.” He said it like it was obvious. “Who is gonna stop us?”

“True.” We started out trip back to the mansion and pushed the trolley into the house. We spent the next several minute cramming things into cabinets and the icebox. I pushed the trolley back outside and went to put my toiletries away while Felix took the laundry items down to the basement. I would also need to learn how to use the electronic washers they had here if I wanted clean clothes.

Speaking of clean clothes, “Felix!” I shouted down the steps, “We’re not done yet today. We need to go clothes shopping.”

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t bring any extra sets of clothes with me when we left Neverland and I’m sick of wearing these dirty rags. Now get a move on!”

Felix came upstairs with a scowl. “Don’t pout. Even if we kept these clothes clean they stand out too much. I think it’s part of the reason everyone glares at us. We’ll arise less suspicion if we blend in. Especially since our mission is to find a way out of here and back to Neverland.”

“Fine.” Felix grumbled. He counted the remaining money in his pocket. “Let me grab a few more bills from the library just to be safe.”

My stomach grumbled and I decided to grab a granola bar to settle my stomach while I waited for Felix. This house was so strange. They didn’t have any dish soap but they had pots and pans. No shampoo but they had combs. Not a lick of food but a cabinet dedicated to what looked like a very fragile table set.

Felix came back a few hundred dollars richer and we made our way back into town for the second time that day. The clothes store was emptier than the grocery store which put me more at ease. Felix and I went our separate ways as I perused around the racks and racks of clothing. I grabbed a few shirts, pajamas, sweatshirts, sweat pants, underwear, socks, gloves, a scarf, hat, a thick jacket, a new pair of boots, and a large messenger bag. When I went to try on some pants though I was thoroughly disappointed. They fit fine but the pockets on them were tiny! I could barely get my hand in them. Was this what pants were like here? Why?!

I went over to the men’s section and found Felix also trying on some new clothes. It was a simple black t-shirt and a pair of dark denim jeans but it looked really good on him. He almost looked less foreboding. Maybe that was just due to the fact that he didn’t have his cloak hood up like usual.

“You look mad,” Felix chuckled upon seeing me stomp up to him.

“I am! Look at this.” I squeezed a few of my fingers into my jeans pocket. “These pants have absolutely no room! Are yours like this as well?”

“Mine?” he stuck his entire hand in his pocket up to the middle of his forearm. “Nope.”

“What the hell?” I stuck my hand in his other pocket. These were so much roomier than mine! “Why are these better than the ones in my section?”

“I don’t know,” Felix pulled my hand out of his pocket, his face was red with anger again and he wouldn’t look me in the eye, “You can stop invading my personal space though.”

“Oops, sorry.” I snatched my hand back to my chest. What had I been thinking? I essentially stuck my hand down his pants and for what? Because I was jealous of the size of his pockets? I grabbed a few pants from his section that looked to be my size and raced back to the dressing rooms in my section. These fit just as well as the ones I was wearing now but the pockets were much roomier so I chucked the others away and got the men’s pants.

Felix met me at the registers when he was done browsing. He still wasn’t looking at me. I think I made things between us really uncomfortable. We paid for the clothes but had no trolley this time so had to carry everything in large bags back to the mansion. After we got back Felix disappeared into his room. I changed into a pair of the comfy new clothes I bought and went downstairs to make myself something to eat.

I heated a can of soup up and sat down to eat. I wasn’t in the mood to be so adventurous as to make a full blown meal. Now that we had all the essentials Felix and I could start our search for a way back to Neverland in earnest.

I didn’t see Felix for the rest of the night. Figures he wouldn’t want to be around me after we spent all day together. I drew myself another hot bath and this time was able to actually wash myself with the soap and shampoo we had bought. I felt truly clean for the first time in a long time as I slid on the pajamas I bought and crawled back into bed.

Rain pattered outside and I was reminded of my dream from this morning. A part of me dreading and hoping that I would have another just like it.

~~~

Fucking hell! You were killing him! You had to be trying to kill him! That’s what Felix concluded as he locked himself in the master bedroom of the mansion.

Ever since Felix had let himself be talked into going to Storybrooke with you he had been forced by your side. You were the only Lost One in Storybrooke still loyal to Pan when all the others had run off to find families for themselves. He told himself he was tagging along instead of staying in Neverland to enact revenge on those that murdered Pan but that was only half of the story.

He should have never followed you though. Revenge aside. It hadn’t worked out anyway. Even after he learned that Pan was still alive, albeit in someone else’s body, it wasn’t enough. Pan died anyway before he got to enact the curse that would have turned this worthless town into a new Neverland. Now everyone was happy and safe and you and Felix were both very much stranded.

Finding this mansion had been a sweet turn of luck. He knew you were right when you mentioned needing a better place to stay over winter. Felix didn’t like the cold either but he could tolerate it better than you. Every night since you two got here you would shiver the night away at your camp. The night before it had been so cold that even Felix was cursing the wind. While he shivered though he glanced across the fire pit at you. You were huddled in so tight to yourself. Teeth chattering and body convulsing.

He was glad that you didn’t make any mention of him giving you his cloak as an extra form of warmth that night. He didn’t want to try explaining why he had done it. Terrible complicated feelings that he refused to acknowledge. He pushed them down hard, stomped them into dust so they could never rear their ugly head again.

Then he had gotten out of the bath. Truly clean for the first time in years he had left the bathroom and all those complicated feelings from before shot to the surface at the scene laid out before him. You knelt on the ground with only a towel barely covering you. Your wet hair leaving drops of water rolling down your shoulders and back.

His jaw clenched and he fumbled to maintain some composure as you explained what you were doing practically naked in his room. He had found the robe in the master bathroom and was planning on wearing it to bed himself but when he caught sight of you he was only too happy to chuck it into your arms. He needed you to cover up. He needed you clothed and out of his room that instant!

He was far from relaxed after you had left that night. The sight of you knelt over, the towel just barely covering your ass was burned into his brain. He ignored the stirring under his towel and dove into the large bed. He tossed and turned most of the night trying to rid the image and the thoughts he was having. His mind betrayed him though as it brought him much more vivid fantasies of you on his bed wearing nothing at all and beckoning him to take you.

He woke soon after breathing hard and his hand around his cock. Felix cursed the fact that he had a lewd dream about you of all people. He tried to ignore the images flashing in his head but when he closed his eyes there you were on all fours again with a teasing smile. He jumped into the bathroom and turned on the shower hoping a cold jolt would snap him back to sense but then he was thinking of you in this shower with him. Water rolling down your body, that same teasing smile and sultry voice begging him to take you against the wall.

For a few minutes he swallowed his embarrassment and let the fantasy play out fucking into his fist and pretending it was you squeezing around him instead. He thought of your moans and whimpers egging him on. Begging him to be harder, faster, rougher. He bit his lip to keep from shouting as he finally spent himself and started coming down from his high.

He felt more relaxed afterwards but the release of tension didn’t make him feel better knowing he had masturbated to you. You were his...friend? You two had never been friends before coming to Storybrooke and he doubted that you two were that now. Whatever you were to him he shouldn’t be thinking about you like that. You both wanted to get back to Neverland and having obscene fantasies of you was not the way to go about that.

It was still fairly early but he was too wound up to go back to bed. So he got dressed and went exploring throughout the mansion. That’s how he had found the secret library full of blank books and that secret vault under the floorboards. He put everything back in place before racing to wake you up and show you. He had almost forgotten about his dream until you opened the door and he was met with your sleepy face and bedhead. Had you always been this attractive or was it just the layers of dirt that had gotten washed away last night that made you much more appealing to him suddenly? He decided not to dwell on why he was having these thoughts and instead took you down to see the stash of money he had found.

You were so giddy at the knowledge that you could actually have a roof over your head and food in your belly that he found himself smiling too. Your smile was so infectious. He let you take the lead when you went shopping. He didn’t recognize half the stuff he saw in that store but trusted your judgement when you dropped something in the cart.

Then there was when you went to go clothes shopping. Felix wouldn’t admit that he was getting a little worn out of his Neverland attire. It was functional but that was all he could say about it. The smell of it after he had gotten out of the bath the night before almost made him gag. Perhaps this was the reason no one wanted you or him around. You both reeked of years of living in a jungle.

You two were on totally opposite ends of the clothing store so Felix thought he was safe until you came charging into his dressing room ranting about the tiny pockets on your pants. The tight fitted pants that hugged your legs and ass perfectly. Then when you unceremoniously stuffed your hand down his pocket to see how deep they were it took all his self control and thoughts of rotting animal carcasses to not pop an erection right there in the store.

You were trying to make him burst a blood vessel and you didn’t even seem to notice! Which is why he was back in his room sitting on his bed hungry and horny. He was waiting until after he was sure you had gone to bed to get some food. He really didn’t want to chance running into you again and risk those impure thoughts bubbling to the surface once more.

Hopefully today had just been a spoof and tomorrow all these strange new thoughts and feelings would be gone. You two had a mission after all. Get back to Neverland. Lust wasn’t going to help that mission.

---

(Previous) (Next)

[topsytervy]

Mob Rafe: The Series

Part 1

I still couldn’t think of a title after a month so it’s just going to stay as Mob Rafe: The Series

You can read the prologue here

Word Count: 4,096

Warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, i think that’s it

~~~~

It was almost 10:30 when you stood in your kitchen, staring into your fridge that was practically empty, trying to figure out what you could make for breakfast. You finally decided on eggs after googling how to tell if they were still good or not and decided that they were fine. After all, JJ had eaten moldy bread before. What’s the difference between that and eating eggs a couple of days past their best by date.

As the eggs cooked in the pan, you grabbed the Aleve and a glass, filling it with water, before walking into the spare bedroom and setting them on the nightstand. You smiled as you watched JJ hug a pillow to his chest, looking rather serene. 

In about half an hour, he’d be complaining though and you’d have to listen to it until he left.

You went back to the eggs, stirring them around as you glanced out your kitchen window. You leaned closer and squinted, trying to make out the faces of the people who were going in and out of the place next door. 

That house had been up for sale since a week after you moved in, the old lady that lived there deciding that it was time to go into a home.

Well, her family decided. She screamed every curse word underneath the sun as her things, and herself, were being moved out.

That was almost a year ago. You tried convincing JJ to buy it but he said ‘I’m not living near a bunch of people who think my business is their business’. You tried to figure out who exactly was moving in but it was hard to tell considering it could’ve been any of the three guys who were exiting and entering the house.

You sighed before turning your attention back to the eggs that were close to done, hearing JJ groan from the guest room. 

“Who the fuck made the sun so bright?” You heard him say, voice muffled.

“Depends on the religion of the person you’re asking!” You hollered back.

“Well, I’m not religious so make it non-religious.” You heard a thump come from the room and you assumed that it was his feet hitting the floor.

“Then the Big Bang.” 

“Like the show?” 

You closed your eyes and pinched the bridge of your nose, taking a deep breath. “You know what? Sure. Like the show.”

JJ emerged, rubbing his face with one of his hands, the glass of water in his other.

“Oh, fucking hell. My head is pounding.” He mumbled, sitting down at the little kitchen table you had.

“I wonder why.” You asked, sarcasm lacing your voice as you plated the eggs. 

You brought the eggs over to JJ and set them down with a fork. JJ shot you a smile as you sat down across from him before he began to eat. “Where’s your food?” He questioned, eyeing the empty place in front of you.

You shrugged. “Not that hungry.”

JJ rolled his eyes. 

“I’m just not hungry in the mornings’ JayBird. You know this.”

“You should eat in the mornings. Even if it’s just a toaster strudel or a pop tart.” 

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes as you stood up and walked over to your almost empty pantry, rummaging around for anything. You managed to find a pop tart hiding away and you opened it, taking a bite from the pastry. “Happy?”

“When’s the last time you went grocery shopping?” 

You shrugged. “I’m planning on doing a little run today.” 

“You didn’t answer my question Y/N.”

You walked over to him and placed both your hands on either side of his face. “Don’t worry about me JJ. I’m not starving. Mom dropped off leftovers and I finished them an hour before you showed up last night. She’s been giving me so many leftovers, I just haven’t had the need to go grocery shopping in a bit. Besides, I finished off the potato salad she gave me two days ago at like 5 a.m. this morning when I went to go pee. So I technically had breakfast.”

“What was last night’s leftovers?”

“Tuna casserole. The week before that was a chicken pot pie. And the week before that was stir fry. And the week before that was-”

“Okay, I get it.” He cut you off.

You smirked as you sat back down in your spot. You were pretty sure that your mom was dropping off food just so she could get some time with you. Between work and classes, you didn’t really have time to go over and visit as much as you should. If you weren’t doing either of those things, you were either catching up on sleep or doing as much of your homework as possible. You were lucky you had a fenced in yard so Blue could run around for a while for those days you didn’t have the energy to take him out for a walk.

This also meant you definitely didn’t have the energy to drive yourself to the store and figure out what you needed for food and then drive back home. 

So, you were living on your mom’s leftovers that she brought over since she seemed to forget that there was one less person in the house so she didn’t have to make as much food.

“You want me to come with you?” JJ asked, scooping more eggs into his mouth.

“You really don’t need to. I think I can do a simple grocery run myself.” You smiled.

“Don”t say I didn’t offer when you’re making more than one trip.” 

You took another bite of your pop tart as you looked down at the floor where Blue and Piper laid, looking at you and JJ for any scraps. JJ was the one to break, giving the two dogs his last bits of breakfast before he leaned back, interlocking his fingers together as he placed them behind his head.

“What do you think the others did last night?” He asked.

You just shrugged, giving him the other pop tart which he reluctantly took after you wouldn’t bring it back to the foil after he shook his head no. JJ felt bad for taking it after just having eggs but if you were so persistent on him having it, he might as well just take the damn thing.

He took a bite and looked out the kitchen window and, through a mouthful of pop-tart, asked, “Who’s moving in?” 

You shrugged once more. “I’ll let you know later today when I find out.”

******

“You guys whine more than anyone I know,” Rafe told Kelce and Topper as they brought the couch through the door.

“Yeah. I wonder why. It can’t be because we woke up with massive hangovers and someone made us get up at 8:30 in the morning.” Kelce grumbled.

“I told you guys that you might want to take it easy on the alcohol considering we’re going to be up early tomorrow and the sun’s going to be shining all day. I also told you we'd ve working until we had everything moved in. It’s your fault that you two didn’t listen.” Rafe stated, looking behind him so he could see where he was going. "And think of this, you won’t have to go to the gym tomorrow."

“You sound like my mom. Shut up.” Topper grunted, looking at the floor.

As far as Rafe was concerned, it was Kelces and Topper’s fault. He did, after all, tell them what was happening and what day he was moving in. And he provided lunch for them and was also providing dinner so why were they whining. He would've been better off recruiting Sarah for this job. She would've complained less.

“I’m losing grip. Down. Down.” Kelce told the two.

They set the couch down on the floor and caught their breath, leaning against the piece of furniture. Rafe checked his watch. 

4:30 pm. 

He sighed as he noticed the hunger in his stomach for the first time since 11 when they ate lunch.

“It was nice of Rose and Ward to give you all their old furniture,” Topper commented, causing Rafe to look at him. 

Rafe scoffed. “They only did that so they could have an excuse to get new furniture.”

“Even if that’s true, at least you didn’t have to spend thousands of dollars to get furniture.”

Rafe sighed. Topper had a point and he had to admit, he was a bit grateful to his father and stepmother for deciding their furniture was outdated. Even if it was only 2 years old.

“Kelce, wanna grab the water bottles from the truck?” He asked. 

Kelce nodded, heading outside to retrieve the drinks as Rafe readjusted his grip.

"Oh, we're gonna finish this without Kelces’ help," Topper said, catching on after a couple of seconds of Rafe staring at him. 

Topper readjusted his grip, nodding to let Rafe know he was ready. 

"Yes, Top. And then we're gonna order a pizza." Rafe grunted as they lifted the couch once more.  

"You're paying right?"

"Yes, I’m paying. Now angle it more towards the right so it doesn’t hit this corner." 

"You're right or my right?"

"My right."

Topper did as he was told, happy for the free meal that would be provided. Rafe was just happy that this was one of the last things they had to move in.

They placed the couch down underneath the window as Kelce came back in, water bottles in hand. The brunette tossed a water bottle to each of his friends as Rafe grabbed his phone from his pocket. 

"Dominos or Little Caesars?" Rafe asked, looking between his friends.

"Dominos cause I want a sandwich," Kelce stated.

Topper looked at Kelce. "But little Caesars. Besides we had Firehouse Subs for lunch."

"Did I stutter? I want a fucking sandwich to go with my pizza, Topper."

The blonde stared at Kelce before sighing. "Fine. Dominos."

****

You looked into your trunk, trying to figure out if, no not if, how you were going to get everything in one trip when one of your neighbors approached you.

You looked over at her. "Hey, Mrs.Keling. How are you?" You asked, grabbing one of the paper bags.

"Fine Y/N but how are you?" She asked.

Mrs. and Mr. Keling lived across the street and four doors down from you and never really came over and talked to you. It was usually just the usual wave and smile, maybe a hello and a how are you. But that was only if you ran into each other. 

You raised an eyebrow. "Um…fine. Why do you ask?" 

Mrs.Keling glanced at the house next door, the Uhaul still parked there. You followed her glance before commenting. "Wow. They're still not done moving. They've been working since I woke up." 

"Aren't you worried about living next to him?" 

Those words made a chill go down your spine but you ignored it. "Should I be worried?" You set the bag back down in the trunk.

Mrs.Keling sighed. "Do you not know who's next to you?"

You shook your head. You hadn’t caught a glimpse of the mystery neighbor yet. You had noticed, however, many of the neighbors peeking through their windows or standing in their yards as they talked amongst themselves all day.

Mrs.Keling moved in closer and you looked at the middle-aged woman, slightly scared of who she was going to say moved in.

"Rafe Cameron." She whispered before stepping backward.

You felt yourself relax a bit, scared that it was going to be someone horrible.

 Granted Rafe Cameron wasn’t exactly a saint.

His past wasn't the best and his past consisted of terrorizing you and your friends but, from what John B, Pope, Kie, and Sarah had told you and JJ, he's pretty tolerable now. His hotheadedness, which probably was a result of his coke addiction, seemed to have died down immensely and he didn't really pick fights out in public anymore.

This was probably because if he got in trouble with the law for something stupid like speeding, his criminal activity would be uncovered.

Rafe Cameron may have looked like he turned a leaf and became a law-abiding citizen overnight but that’s why you never judge a book by its cover. Because, if anything, he got dirtier. 

People on the Island knew about Rafe’s new family that he got involved with back when he was 20, no thanks to Wheezie and her mouth.

She told one person to leave her friend alone or else her mob brother would take care of him and that’s all it took. However, no one could arrest him for any illegal activity cause, from what they saw, there was none. He was perfectly clean. Not even the scent of weed to cause them to suspect anything. Eventually, Shoupe had decided that everyone was pulling his leg considering Rafe always lets them search the place and no one had ever caught him doing anything that he could be arrested for.

You let it go, deciding that it was a rumor that could die. You were never much for the gossip that took place within the subdivision you lived in, let alone the island.

"Rafe Cameron lives next door now?" You asked, “As in the man who once climbed a tree to help get a child’s kite down?”

Mrs.Keling nodded. "He’s not as good as he seems Y/N and some of us are worried about you. There’s something about him that’s just...off."

You managed to hold back a scoff. Sure, some of them were worried and you knew they were but it was usually the seniors. The others just wanted to fake it to see if they could get some dirt on the others.

You shrugged as you looked into a bag, seeing the pie at the top, remembering that you picked it up for the new neighbor. "I'll be fine. I have a Blue." You reassured her, grabbing the pie.

You walked across the patch of grass separating your house and, what is now apparently, Rafe’s house. You raised a fist and knocked on the door. Looking around, you saw the neighbors staring at you as you stood there. You grinned and waved at everyone before turning back towards the door.

You heard laughter and footsteps before the door opened, revealing Rafe Cameron himself. He stood in the doorway towering over you, giving you a once over.

"I did some grocery shopping today and decided to pick up a welcome pie. It’s probably not that good considering it was in the clearance section but, ya know, as my dad always says "When you have a cheap pie, have a cheap beer with it"." You smiled, extending the pie towards him.

Rafe smiled back, taking the pie from your hands. "Your dads a wise man."

"Indeed, he is." You grinned.

Rafe looked past you and towards the people watching from their yards.

"Do you want to come inside? Have a slice of this pie you bought? It'd be unfair to not share." Rafe offered.

You smiled but shook your head. "Thanks for the offer but I'm going to have to decline. I've got to go get ready for my shift at work and get my groceries inside." You told him, turning to face your neighbors.

You turned back to the man in front of you and leaned in. "Don't mind these guys. They're, sadly, just your stereotypical suburban moms and dads who like to talk shit about others but hate it when others talk shit about them. Except for Bonnie. She's sweet." You said, waving to the old lady across the street who was tending to her roses. "Anyway. See you around, Rafe." You smiled, waving before turning around and heading back to your driveway where Mrs.Keling still stood.

Rafe watched as you exchanged a few more words with Mrs.Keling, no doubt in his mind that it was about him considering the older lady kept glancing his way.

"Well, she's cute." 

Rafe turned around to see Kelce and Topper standing off to the side where they could see outside. Rafe rolled his eyes at his two friends, both of whom wore a smirk, and shoved the pie into Kelces hands.

"You two wait for the pizza." He told them before walking pit the door and to your driveway. He smiled at Mrs. Kelsing who immediately bid you goodbye and scurried off to her home.

You looked at Rafe, a bag in each arm as you waited for him to say something. 

"You brought me a pie. Let me at least help you bring in groceries if you're not gonna have a slice of the pie." 

****

Topper and Kelce watched from the living room window as Rafe grabbed a couple of bags and helped you bring in your groceries.

"Why is he helping her?" 

"Cause that’s what you do when a nice cute girl brings you a pie. You help her with whatever." Kelce answered. 

"And you leave your best friends unattended with the pie? A poor choice really." Topper stated, flipping open the box the dessert was in. 

"A poor choice indeed." Kelce agreed, opening a box labeled kitchen and pulling out a couple of plates and forks.

Kelce served each of them a slice, clinking their forks together before digging in.

****

"Wait. My brother lives next to you now?" Sarah asked as you brought your friends the drinks they ordered.

It was probably 3 hours into your shift when JJ asked if you had met whoever moved in next door. And when you told the group, their jaws hit the floor.

"And he helped you bring in groceries? You sure that’s Rafe?" JJ raised an eyebrow as he immediately brought his bottle of beer to his lips.

You nodded as you tucked the now empty tray under your arm, looking at your watch. 15 minutes left of your shift.

"That’s so weird," Kie stated.

"Is it though? I mean, he has been wanting to have his own place for a while. It doesn’t help that Topper doesn’t pay attention to what name is on the sticky note when it comes to food." Sarah rolled her eyes, remembering all the times she called Rafe for something and heard an argument break out amongst the two boys.

And all she had to say was poor Kelce for having to put up with their bullshit.

"Yeah. I know that feeling." Pope commented, glancing at JJ.

The blonde immediately pointed his finger at Pope. "You don’t write your name on shit. You specifically said that we aren’t going to do the whole this is my food, this is your food." JJ defended himself.

"Uh, no. I never said that. Why would I say that, JJ?" 

"You tell me cause those words came out of your mouth."

"Oh did they? Cause I don’t remember that. In fact, I remember you saying we should put our names on our food so we know what belongs to who but then you broke that rule." Pope glared at his best friend.

"No. I said we should label the to-go boxes from restaurants when we dine in then take our leftovers home so we know what belongs to who."

"Okay. Pipe it down and quit the squawking." You told them, giving both of them a light smack.

"You two fight worse than me and Sarah and you two aren’t even together like that." John B shook his head.

"You don’t know that for sure," JJ smirked, bringing the bottle up once again so he could take a drink.

Pope sighed as the rest of you stood there staring at JJ before you shook your head. "I’m going back to work and in 15 minutes you all better be ready to leave." John B held up the keys to the twinkie and you snatched them from his hand. "And I'm driving."

You had driven to John B’s in your car and parked it there once you heard from Kie that everyone was planning on going out for drinks, opting on being the designated driver. This wasn’t the first time you did this, having them have their night out at the bar you worked at so you could drive them home safely after your shift. It gave them plenty of time to get shit-faced and you were able to make sure no one did something dumb while still being able to work.

It was kind of like Nani and Lilo’s situation of Nani bringing Lilo to work.

The pogues were Lilo and you were Nani.

*****

Rafe took a swig from his beer before setting it down harder than he needed to.

He was currently swearing under his breath as he sat on the floor, attempting to assemble an entertainment center he bought from IKEA as his two best friends sat on the couch, each enjoying another slice of pie as they had a beer themselves.

“I’m telling you, man, you should’ve had them to assemble it for you,” Topper told him.

Rafe rolled his eyes. “I can do it myself thank you very much.”

“You couldn’t do it sober. What makes you think you can do it drunk?” Kelce laughed.

Rafe turned around and sent him a glare. “I will have you know that it’s going to take more than a beer and a half to get me drunk.” He looked down at their plates to see them both halfway done with their pie slices. “Is there going to be any pie left for me?”

“You mean the pie that the cutie pie from next door brought over? There’s a slice left.” Kelce told him.

“And I’m not taking any chances,” Rafe muttered, slamming down the allen wrench and standing up, walking into his kitchen to retrieve that last slice.

He grabbed a fork and the box that the pie rested in, not bothering with a plate, before walking back over to his spot on the floor.

“You know,” Rafe started, using his fork to cut a piece of pie off his slice before letting his fork hover in the air, “you two having been pigging out this whole time, yukking it up and whatnot while I have been doing all this work.” Rafe punctuated his sentence by placing his fork in his mouth.

“Not true. We’ve been providing you moral support.” Topper defended.

“Well if you two aren’t going to provide physical help, then you can walk your asses out the door.”

Topper and Kelce looked at each other before nodding and getting up. “See you later, buddy.”

“Yeah. Oh, btw, Sarah said something about throwing you a little ‘congrats on getting a house’ party at John B’s on Friday since she didn’t want to throw it here and upset your neighbors!”

Rafe opened his mouth to speak but the door shutting cut him off.

"Thanks for helping." He muttered.

He picked up his beer and took another sip, checking his watch as he brought the bottle away from his lips.

12:30 AM.

Rafe sighed as he continued to eat his pie and drink his beer, deciding that once he was finished with his snack he’d head to bed. 

He got up to put his fork in the sink and throw away his garbage when headlights caught his attention.

He looked out the window, confusion on his face. This wasn’t the type of neighborhood where he expected people to go out until midnight. Hell, they didn’t even seem like the people who’d be out until 10.

It made a lot more sense when he saw the car pull into your driveway and you getting out of the car. He watched you walk up to your door and unlock it before walking in, closing the door behind you.

He shook his head before walking away from the window, continuing his way towards the kitchen. He threw everything away and tossed his fork into the sink before shutting off his lights and heading into his bathroom. He brushed his teeth before changing into a sweatshirt and sweatpants, heading into his room, and flopping down onto the mattress that laid on the floor with a groan. He suddenly regretted ordering his new bed frame online and not paying for two-day delivery. 

He let his eyes close, his breathing steady as he worked his way to sleep, letting darkness completely take over in a matter of minutes.

~~~~~

Taglist: @oleariaux @popcrone818 @void-sadie @diverrdown @teenagekook @acvross-the-universe @poguemackin @bibliophilewednesday

[readyourimgaines]

The Little Things

Summary: Derek knew fully well that moving in with Spencer was going to bring around some changes. Dr. Spencer Reid was different and Derek loved him for it. There were little quirks that the doctor showed at work and some Derek was still learning. So there must be some at home.

And a special thanks, of course, to @chaoticgremlinwholikescheese​ for helping me compile this list!

1. Alphabetizing Movies by Title

“Pretty Boy?” Derek was crouched down in front of their TV looking for their movie while Spencer did the dishes. The latter hadn’t seen Happy Gilmore and Derek couldn’t let that stand. 

“Yeah?” Spencer called from the kitchen. 

“I can’t find it?”

“What?” Spencer stepped away from the sink and went to the living room. Water dripped from his fingertips. “The movies are alphabetical. It’s between Hamlet and Ice Age.” He went to Derek’s side and gestured to the movie. “I was going to order them by director, but Hotch said most people don’t know directors very well. Which is a shame because J.J. Abrams destroyed Star Trek but Guy Riche-” 

Derek pressed a kiss to Spencer’s lips with a fond smile. Spencer blinked. 

“Sorry,” the doctor blushed. 

Derek just chuckled. “You know you’re adorable, right, Pretty Boy?” 

“You may have mentioned it a time or two,” Spencer laughed. 

“You can tell me all about directors later,” Derek promised. “I know a bit about the mainstream guys, but not a whole lot.”

“All you really need to know is that J.J. Abrams kills anything he touches and Peter Jackson doesn’t get as much attention as he should.”

*****

2. Morning Rituals

One thing that Derek very quickly learned about Spencer was that he 

had a specifically timed morning ritual when not on a case. And that if it was broken or disturbed, the whole rest of the day would go down hill like a train on greased tracks. 

He woke up at 6:17, was in the shower by 6:25, eating breakfast by 7:00, his bed made by 7:30, and shoes on his feet by 7:32. The last half hour before they left at 8:00 was free game. 

The first morning in their new place was the roughest. Spencer went 

about his usual morning, but Derek didn’t usually wake up until 7:45 because he took less time to get ready and ate in the car. So when Spencer finished breakfast and went back to their room to make the bed but Derek was still asleep… He paced for the next fifteen minutes and his head nearly went through the ceiling when Derek’s alarm went off. 

Spencer almost had a panic attack as he fumbled his way through making their bed and cramming his feet into his shoes. Needless to say, the extra half hour was spent- in vain- trying to calm the doctor down. None of the rest of the day lined up properly and Spencer was on edge and fidgety. Hotch even had to gently remind him to focus a few more times than the usual redirection of infodumps. 

That was the first and only time Derek didn’t follow Spencer’s morning routine. He found the same day that Spencer had a much simpler night ritual: Snack (sometimes) at 10:10, teeth brushed by 10:25, in bed by 10:35, reading until (supposed to be) 11:18, and then lights out. This routine was much more flexible and relaxed.

Derek found waking up and going to bed at the same time every day made the former much easier. He also found that Spencer reading to him most nights- no matter the book or topic- was very relaxing. And of course there were nights when Derek read to Spencer.

*****

3. Sugary Coffee

Derek took a sip of coffee from his travel cup and whistled. “Think I got yours, Pretty Boy. There’s enough sugar in this to hype up a six year old’s birthday party.” 

Spencer braced himself and took a sip of the coffee in his own cup. He was pleasantly relieved when the bitterly sharp taste expected never came. “I-I put sugar in both of them. I wasn’t thinking,” he said sheepishly. 

Derek shrugged. “You know what they say: I’ll try anything once.” He chuckled. “I’ll just brush my teeth for an extra three minutes.” 

Spencer scoffed as he got into the passenger seat of Derek’s car. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll like it. You don’t get the caffeine drop when the eight hour half-life is over.” 

“Is that why you put so much sugar in coffee?” Derek raised an eyebrow, thinking he already knew the answer. 

“And coffee tastes like battery acid. I’d rather drink vinegar than black coffee.” Spencer shuddered. 

Derek chuckled but didn’t say anything else as he pulled onto the street.

*****

4. Cuddly Sleeper

Even though Spencer wasn’t huge on PDA like Derek was, he sure was a cuddly guy. The second the door closed, he was a six foot koala. That included in bed- but usually not until after he was asleep. 

Some nights, Spencer would fall asleep reading. So Derek would take his book, close it, gently remove Spencer’s glasses, and turn out the lamp. Nine times out of ten, Spencer was curled up against his side before Derek was asleep himself. 

At first, Derek found himself wondering why Spencer wasn’t nestled against him before sleep took him. But after a while, it sunk in that the doctor unwound by reading. 

The look on Spencer’s face when he curled into Derek’s side always sent the older man over the moon. The absolute peace on the doctor’s face. One night, Derek almost woke Spencer up laughing. Derek rolled over to out the lamp and Spencer had gripped Derek’s arm tighter and whined in his sleep. Derek then had to assure his boyfriend- in soft whispers as to not actually wake him up- that he wasn’t going anywhere. 

Spencer never thought to question why his book and glasses were gone when he woke up.

*****

5. Leaves Books Everywhere

Anyone who had a 30 second conversation with Spencer- anyone who glanced at Spencer- could tell the man read more than he did anything else. 

Derek picked up the doctor’s satchel once and was moderately surprised the slim man hadn’t dislocated his shoulder with how heavy the bag was. But Spencer didn’t only keep books in his bag. No. They were all over the place. 

Their bedroom, the craft room where Derek made floor plans for his renovations, the kitchen, the dining room, the living room. Even both bathrooms and the basement. 

When the two first moved in together, Derek debated building an extension onto the living room for a library. He still debated it from time to time (just in case). But as time wore on, Derek grew to appreciate the countless (if seemingly random) books around the house. 

Spencer would read when Derek was working on floorplans, so Derek would read when Spencer worked on an academic paper or consult. 

“What’re you reading?” Spencer asked one night, finally looking up from his notebook. He was writing an essay on how handwriting analysis could help catch a serial killer and/or rapist. 

“I don’t even know,” Derek chortled. “Uh..” he looked at the cover, “it’s Introduction to Law by Joanne Banker and Yvonne Ekern.” 

“Oh! Hotch loaned that to me yesterday,” Spencer noted. “I should get that back to him soon.” 

Derek just shook his head. “You know, Pretty Boy, I didn’t read this much in college.”

Spencer smiled. “See? Maybe there’s a good side to not spending thousands of dollars on building a library,” he teased.

6. The Nightlight

In the bedroom, in the outlet closest to the door was a nightlight. But not just any night light. This nightlight made the move in the front pocket of Spencer’s satchel. 

“So what’s the story behind this platypus, Pretty Boy?” Derek had to ask one night as Spencer turned it on. “Because you’ve had this since before we were dating.” 

“My uh- my mom’s went on a sort of field trip with her hospital a couple years ago. It was on one of her good days. She saw this in the aquarium’s gift shop and bought it for me.”

“That’s pretty cute,” Derek encouraged. He knew Spencer didn’t open up about his mom often so Derek tried to learn everything he could about the woman during the rare occurrences. 

“We named him,” Spencer laughed. “Alfred Nicholas Brian Reid.” He giggled. “I just… He helps.”

*****

+1. Bleeding/Infected Hangnails

Spencer usually had something to stim or fidget with. A strip of paper, a pen or pencil to twirl, a shirt with a loose thread, something. On the off chance that he didn’t, the doctor somehow decided that his fingers were good enough. If Spencer didn’t have a hangnail, he’d start one. 

This was the one and only thing about Doctor Spencer Reid that Derek Morgan hated. He could see the minute flinch when Spencer held a utensil wrong and it pressed on the swollen skin. He heard the soft hiss when Spencer got tomato or orange juice in the broken skin. 

What Derek hated even more than that was when the hangnail would get infected. The skin around the nail or turn a greenish-yellow and harden. Which, in turn, gave Spencer another thing to pick at. 

“Pretty Boy, you gotta stop,” Derek sighed. He’d gone into a convenience store to get them something other than coffee- but tastier than water- to drink. While inside, he bought a box of Band-Aids and a tube of anti-bacterial cream. 

Spencer snapped out of his daze. “What?”

“Picking at your nails.” To prove his point, Derek took Spencer’s hand in his to show him, as well as to stop his current picking. “I know you’re worried about the case, Baby, but we’ll catch the son of a bitch and put his ass behind bars like we always do. You gotta stop destroying your hands.”

“I didn’t realize I was,” he admitted. 

“I know,” Derek said softly. He applied the cream and a Band-Aid to each finger that needed it (five in total between both hands). “We just gotta get you a couple of those fidget cubes Garcia has.”

Tag List: @mayonnaiseismycomfortfood​

[babbushka]

Biting Dust - Ch.3

Life ain’t too easy for a woman, ‘specially not a woman on the run like you. With a bounty on your head and gunpowder in your nose, you’ve grown adjusted to a life of solitude away from the hustle and bustle of civilization. That is, until you meet one particular man who’s got a face you’d only ever seen in your dreams – or on wanted posters. And when he offers you a proposition that sounds too good to be true, well. You don’t think your life will ever be the same again…

Outlaw!Kylo Ren x Reader

Tumblr Masterlist | Available on AO3

5.5k ; Content Warnings: Mentions of scars, mention of injury, mention of blood ; NSFW (Masturbation [Kylo jerking off], leather kink, scent kink/turned on by smells, mild praise kink)

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

You wake up with the sun, with the earth. The sky blazes in a pink and purple blanket of clouds, cacti juttin’ up proudly from the ground, a black silhouette against the pale light of mornin’. The birds are your first call, the alarm mother nature herself has set for you, the one which you’ve obeyed every day for as long as you can remember. There’s too many of them, the chirps, all of them in an off-beat harmony that goes on echoin’ over the gorge.

The water is your second alarm, the soft rush of the river as it twists and turns ‘round the bend a thousand feet below. The sound of it alone has you sighin’ with relief, knowin’ you’ve made it to water. Water wasn’t too easy to come by out in the desert, but the chicken scratch on that map had done you good, had led you straight to where you needed to be.

The sound of footsteps approachin’ is your third alarm – and this alarm was one felt deep in your gut. Sittin’ upright real fuckin’ fast and holdin’ the gun steady in the direction of the sound, you blink away the sleep sand from your eyes and level a glare so mean it coulda killed the sonofabitch stranger on the spot.

But then you open your eyes a little further, and you focus on just who the sonofabitch is, and you sigh.

Oh right, you can’t help but think with a groan. Kylo Ren.

He looks well rested, if a little scruffy. Scruffy, you think with a scowl, how the hell does he look so sleep mussed and yet still handsome? That wasn’t right, not one damn bit.

The events of the day prior come slammin’ through you all at one, and you toss the gun down lightly as you fall back onto the bundle of sacks that you’ve called your pillow, stretchin’ your limbs way high up over your head. Kylo is chipper, a mornin’ person it would seem, and he’s standin’ over you blockin’ out the sun from your eyes like a gentleman.

“Mornin’ Angel.” He greets you, offerin’ you a hand. “Sleep tight?”

You regard the hand, regard him.

The fact that you woke up at all is a surprisin’ one – a damn surprisin’ one. You’d’ve thought, well, you were almost certain he woulda left you stranded, if he left you alive at all. But there he was, his hand outstretched, and you take it, allowin’ him to help haul you up onto your feet.

“You didn’t kill me.” You say instead of a proper greeting, and Kylo rolls his eyes.

“Well that would go directly against the proclamation I gave to offer my protection, now wouldn’t it?” He replies sarcastically, puffin’ on that same cigarette he had worked on last night.

You try not to think about how good it looks between his crooked teeth.

“Those were just words.” You shrug, avertin’ your gaze and regardin’ the horses. Agnes and Sam seemed to be chumming up real nicely, the both of them grazing side by side on the few desert plants that managed to grow near the gorge. “I didn’t think you’d actually meant ‘em.”

“If there’s one thing you should know ‘bout me, it’s that I say what I mean and I mean what I say.” Kylo is serious in a way that makes you raise a brow, and he continues, “Too many tragedies get born from mis-communicatin’, don’t you think?”  

“I wouldn’t know.” You lie, not feelin’ like divulging anything about yourself to this man, not yet. You don’t know him, don’t trust him, how could you?

Yes he didn’t go killin’ you when he had the chance but what if that meant he was savin’ it up to kill you later? What if --

“Are you hungry?” Kylo interrupts your train of thought before you can spiral down into a paranoid place. It was just strange, so damn strange, the way he regards you so calmly. Even up in the tree he had spoken to you like he’d known you your whole lives.

You were sure you’d never met him, a face like his wasn’t one folks seldom came across, and one even less likely to forget.

Dusting off the beautiful Hopi blanket and folding it neatly, you think the question over. Really, your stomach was still pretty full from the meals you’d enjoyed at the hotel, and you knew that the earlier in the day you started eatin’, the hungrier you’d be later on. It was a tough life, and on your own you’d gone too many days without food at all in your belly, so the thought of givin’ any of it up now didn’t sit too right with you.

“I’ve got some dried fruit and nuts in the knapsack,” You say anyway, because really energy was good and you would need it to deal with him, this man. Kylo nods once and makes to rifle through the knapsack, and you don’t know what comes over you but you offer, “We’ll split it.”

Kylo looks at you with an expression you can’t quite place. He looks caught off-guard by that, by the offer. And maybe he was, food bein’ so scarce out here in the desert the way it was, particularly for a coupl’a outcasts like yourselves. You try not to think about those two dollars you gave up the day before.

You wonder if Kylo’s got any money, what might be in his knapsacks he rides around with.

“I boiled us come coffee.” He blinks, and you blink too – well, you think, there’s one thing he carries on him.

The fire from last night must’a smoldered out while the both of y’all were asleep, because there’s fresh brush smokin’ up into the morning sky when you turn to take in the sight of the tin coffee pot bubblin’ away. As a matter of fact, Kylo moves over there now with the fruit and nuts in his hand, fixes a cup while it’s nice and fresh and so it don’t get scorched. You’ll have to drink from the same cup, you realize, because you don’t have one. The only thing you’ve got are the canteens for water, and you can’t go pourin’ coffee into that.

“How long have you been awake?” You ask, gratefully accepting a big handful of nuts and some dried apricots.

“Before the sun, wanted to get the coffee started, and needed to go lookin’ for some salve, for this here burn.” Kylo tilts his head to the side and exposes the nasty red gash that winds itself ‘round his throat. He grumbles and scowls, “Hurts like a bitch it does.”

You toss back a big swig of the coffee and crunch down on a couple pecans before you pull one of the bags over and begin openin’ up the different pockets and pouches, lookin’ for the jar of ointment you know is there.

“C’mere.” You wave him over when you do find it.

It ain’t a big jar or nothin’ like that, but it’s still good, smells just fine. If anythin’ was gonna soothe that burn it would be this. You had purchased it from a medicine man some months back as a precaution, and though you know you’d have to use the whole thing on him eventually, it beat lettin’ the ointment spoil and wastin’ the money.

Kylo sits close to you, real close. Too close, the way he was yesterday, in your personal space. You’re wary of him, but he sits real still, eyeing the ointment. It’s now that you actually take time to look at what he’s wearin’, as you push his clothes out of the way.

He’s got a long coat somewhere, you remember seein’ it hangin’ around his body up in the tree. He’d been hidin’ a smartly fitted pair of brown corduroy trousers and heeled boots, a white button down with billowing sleeves, and a dark red waistcoat underneath it. There was a gold chain peekin’ out of one of the waistcoat pockets, and you’re pretty sure it’s a watch.

You wonder if he’s got someone’s picture in it.

Somehow, this close to you, he’s enormous. Absolutely the biggest man you’ve ever seen, his hands alone are longer than your face, you can tell just by the way he runs his fingers through his long dark hair.

He sits still, real still, and closes his eyes. Ever so gently, you scoop up a little bit of the salve and hold your breath as it makes contact with his neck. Kylo doesn’t wince, doesn’t do anything as you smear the ointment against his angry skin, and you have to admit, you’re impressed. Even if this were another exaggerated display of toughness, you’re impressed.

You make sure to cover every bit of the rope burn, mostly because you don’t want it to get infected. It’ll likely scar, but Kylo’s got bigger and badder scars to concern himself with, you doubt that this one will bother him much. And if it does, well, too fuckin’ bad, at least he ain’t dead.

“Thank you.” Kylo says softly, his voice deep in the quiet of the morning. He’s so close, too close, as you close the little jar and put it back in your knapsack for when you know you’ll have to reapply it for him. Kylo watches as you do so, bringin’ his cigarette back up to his lips and humming, “You’ve got magic in that bag or somethin’?”

“Not magic, just a lifetime of shit.” You say, and for the first time that you let him see, you smile at him.

Kylo’s still too close, and he doesn’t go movin’ away once the bag is closed and you pluck the cup of coffee from his hands, bring it up to your lips and take a sip of the bitter brown brew.

“I reckon we’re goin’ down to that there river, ain’t we?” Kylo nods in the direction of the bend, and you smack your lips, the coffee coating the roof of your mouth.

“You’d be reckonin’ right. It won’t take long, maybe only an hour on account of havin’ to be real careful the horses don’t slip, and then we can move along the river.” That was the plan anyway.

Yesterday you’d been privy to a nice long soak, and it had done your muscles wonders, but you had a bundle of bloodied clothin’ you needed to get washed and get washed ASAP. You were still in the blue dress, and you knew you’d feel much more comfortable in your ridin’ clothes, except the ridin’ clothes were stained through with dried blood right about this time.

That was going to be a bitch to get out, you think as you sip your coffee, but you try to remain optimistic about it. Really it only mattered if the blue dress stayed nice, that was the only one townsfolk were liable to see.

“Where are we headed, when we follow the river?” Kylo takes the cup of coffee back and pulls a deep swig out of it.

“I’m going to Colorado.” You make a point of emphasizing, and he only frowns with something like concern.

“Central City or Victor?” He chews on his lip, his good eye a little too bright, a little too interested.

“I’ve heard nice things about Victor. I think there might be a good chance of gold there.” You shrug with one shoulder, feigning interest.

Whatever Kylo might be after, whatever he might want, you don’t want him to know that you want this more, more desperately than anything anyone could ever want.

“So it’s gold that you’re after.” He muses, and you snap your head to glare at him.

“It’s freedom I’m after.” You’re real quick to correct him, not wantin’ you to think that you’re just some greedy person wantin’ to get their hands on every last penny they can. You knew people like that – had known – and you never wanted to be anything like them. It’s just that, “Freedom don’t come cheap, and gold’s the best place to start with something like that.”

Kylo looks down into his coffee for a long while, contemplatin’ what you’ve just said. You wish you could see inside his head, wish you could hear what he was thinkin’. Was he the same? Was he itching for a plot of peace and quiet and calm?

Where had he been headed, when you’d found him?

“I can take you there, to Victor. I’ve been before, so I know the way. Shortcuts through the canyons and everything, I swear.” Kylo pinches out the cigarette and sticks it back in his pocket, clears his throat a little. “I’m good for it, you’ll see. Besides, it’s less conspicuous to go travelin’ in pairs than for a woman to go ridin’ into town alone, ‘specially a rough town like Victor.”

“I can handle myself just fine, thank you.” Unless yesterday, you’re not quite so venomous with the way you respond. In fact, you find yourself in a rather teasin’ playful kinda mood now that the caffeine is perkin’ up your system. “I seem to recall between the two of us, I was the one cuttin’ you down.”

Maybe Kylo’s in a playful mood too, because that almost gets a smile out of him.

“Fair enough. But seeing as you’re stuck with me for the foreseeable future anyway, might as well take advantage of my good sense of direction.” He points out, and you have to ask:

“What’s in it for you?”

Kylo hesitates on that for a little while. He looks over to the rising sun, now well into the sky. It’s no longer purples and pinks, but the pale blue you’ve grown so used to seein’ hanging over your head. Birds fly high above you, their wings spready wide.

You wish you could fly.

“My gang’s waitin’ for me there. We got separated few weeks back, and that’s always been the meet-up spot. I’m hopin’ that, if they’re alive, they’re there and waitin’. I’d like to at the very least get there to find out.” Kylo says finally.

“Those would be the Knights of Ren.” You muse, still not really believing him. You’ll call him Kylo and you won’t kill him for it, but you’re not convinced, not really.

“That they would.” Still he sticks true to his story, and something changes in his voice with the way he talks about him, “They’re the closest thing to family a guy like me could ever get, and if I’m bein’ honest with you Angel, I’d very much like to get home to them.”

You sigh and get up, brush off the sand from the skirt of your dress and offer him a hand.

He looks at it, looks at you, then back at it, and with a hopeful glimmer in his eye, he takes it.

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

The journey down the canyon is done in silence, mostly outta concentration. Neither of you want to distract the horses as they make their way down the perilously narrow pathways carved out of the canyon by millions of years of rivers flowin’ through these parts, so you stay quiet.

It’s nice, the quiet, gives you time to appreciate the beauty of it all. You’re surprised Kylo manages to shut up for two seconds, with how chatty he seems to be. You can’t go blamin’ him too bad though you suppose, if he’s been on the run as long as you have, if he’s been alone as long as you have, a fresh face to talk to was probably the most welcome thing Kylo could’ve asked for.

Eventually, you do get to the bottom of the gorge, and Agnes and Sam both make a beeline to the river’s edge. You and Kylo have to yank on the reigns and get them to slow down, they’re too excited and it would be really shit to have all your bags soaked.

An hour or two after breakfast you find yourselves face to face with Horseshoe Bend, the lush vegetation that grows right along the bank. The water is a rich blue, and the land around it is a deep green, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen something this magical, so refreshing after eons of red and orange dirt.

The first plan is to fill the canteens, which you do right away. You fill them all up until there ain’t no air left, and then you fill ‘em up some more. Then, you decide, you have to wash the blood outta your clothes.

Kylo watches you do that right on the bank, doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t ask any questions, and for that you’re grateful. You wouldn’t have the answers to go givin’ him. He leaves you to your own devices as a matter of fact, walks away from where you’re kneeled over the steady stream of water to go tend to Sam.

Something comes over you, and idea, a notion poppin’ into your head.

You begin to strip down to nothin’, not a stitch of clothing on you, and you tiptoe into the river.

It’s a risk, of course.

But it’s also a challenge.

He wants you to trust him. Trustin’ means vulnerability, and you can’t think of nothin’ more vulnerable than this. If he wants you to open yourself up to him, well shit. He’s gonna have to open himself up to you too. So there you are, naked in the river. The water is cold against your skin, the current whooshing between your legs. Every now and again a fish bumps into your shin, and you suck in a small breath of surprise as it passes you to continue its journey down the river.

Your back is to Kylo, givin’ him time to make a decision – join you or not. You haven’t decided yet what you’ll do if he joins you, but you hold your breath and wait.

A few moments and some rustling later, you hear the light splashing of Kylo stepping in too, and your pulse pounds. You’re not quite right next to one another or nothin’, but definitely close enough that he should be able to hear you when you chew your lip, the inside of your cheek, and ask,

“Are you lookin’?”

You don’t know what answer you want him to give.

“No.” Kylo says, says it hesitantly. He doesn’t say it like it’s a complete sentence, like there’s more he wants to tumble out of his mouth, but nothing comes.

“Do you want to?” You whisper, turning to face him.

You smile briefly, because he’s turned away from you too.

Only for a moment though, before he’s glancing over his shoulder and lookin’ at you, really lookin’ at you.

Exposed, is how you feel, in a word. Your shoulders are squared and your chin is raised in defiance, your tits out above the water. It’s almost a dare, seeing how long it’ll take him to glance down, to break the staring contest you’ve found yourselves in.

He breaks first, you find with a small thrill, as you watch him look at you, take in the sight of your body. His is…a marvel. Incredible, really. He’s so wide? Impossibly broad, the kind of shoulders you could sit on with no problem. And he was wide all the way down, stomach not tapering down to trim hips – no, this man was sold through and through.

Solid, and covered in scars. He shows them off proudly, the same way you show yourself. It’s a challenge, a dare, a plea. You don’t know what you’re askin’ for, but it’s a plea nonetheless. Hesitantly, he takes a step towards you. He’s askin’ for permission in this silent way, a hand outstretched. You bite the inside of your cheek and take a step towards him.

This dance continues, one step after the other, the both of y’all coming to meet in the middle.

It’s the water, you reckon. The cooling river washing away your sins, your crimes. It took the blood out of your clothes, will it rinse the very same from your hands?

Suddenly, somehow, he’s too close again.

This time, for some reason, you don’t mind.

You tilt your head the barest bit, and whatever you’re askin’ for, he seems to be answerin’, by resting his forehead against your own. He hunches down and curls himself around you to fit, to make up the distance from bein’ so much taller than you, and he lets out a contemplative sigh.

Silently, you stare into each other’s eyes. This close, you focus on the mangled and marred one he’s got, the scar that goes with it. It starts from his browbone and carries all the way down to his shoulder. How did a man go about gettin’ something like that, you wonder. He’s sure to have a story for it, somethin’ like that, somethin’ as big as that always had a story.

“I like the way your leather smells…when you’ve been ridin’ all day.” He says abruptly, doesn’t break his gaze from yours, lookin’ from your left eye to your right with the only one he’s got left.

You blink rapidly, unsure what to do with that information. Unsure what to do with him.

Unsure what to do with yourself.

“What’s it smell like?” Your ribcage expands when you take a deep breath, a steady breath.

“Like sweat, the earth.” He replies hungrily, his eye darkening with what you know has to be lust, “It smells warm, like it’s still alive. It smells like you.”

“And what do I smell like?” You stare him down, making him sweat even there in the cool of the river. It’s fulfilling, seeing him sweat under your gaze.

“I – I don’t know.” He admits, voice faltering.

“Do you want to find out?” You whisper, eyes wide, terrified.

When was the last time you did this sort of thing with someone? You can’t remember, not as far back as your memory goes – and it goes pretty damn far. You’ve never done this, not with another person, not in broad daylight. And what would you do, if he said no? If he thought you a cheap loose woman now, if he –

“Please.” He whimpers, and oh.

Oh.

He was the kind of man you’d been dreamin’ about, wasn’t he? The kind who needed a firm hand, who wanted to be put in his place. Made sense, it did, if this was really Kylo Ren, surely no one would dare try out of fear of bein’ shot. Well, he’s not got his pistol on him, and your hands are already smoothin’ up his chest, already draggin’ up to his shoulders, around his neck, fingers weavin’ into the hair at the base of his skull.

Giving and encouraging little nudge, Kylo ducks his head down and shoves it into the crook of your throat, already taking in deep gulpfuls of breaths, smelling you. He must like it, must like the way you smell, because in seconds you can feel his cock filling out hard and thick, pressing against your stomach. It’s huge, and that shouldn’t surprise you given the rest of him, but it still does.

Without so much as a second thought, you let one of your hands wrap around it, and Kylo immediately moans.

“Your cock’s hard for it?” You lick your lips, curious, wanting to see where this takes you, where the two of you will go.

“Yes.” He replies straight away, and something about that trips your brain up. He likes answering your questions, he likes doing what you say, he likes when you’re pleased with his answers. You can tell by the way his cock gets harder harder harder, and you give it a squeeze.

“For me or the leather?” You whisper, mouth run real dry. You shake your head and speak low in his ear, makin’ goosebumps shudder through his flesh with a groan when you say, “You can take care of it, if you’d like. If’n you need to.”

Releasing his dick, Kylo groans at the loss. His hand replaces yours, and he begins a slow stroke. His face is still tucked into your neck, and he’s still breathing hard, breathing you in. You can’t see much because of the way he’s shoved himself against you, you can’t see past the wall of muscle that is his shoulders and back, but you can feel it.

His hand speedin’ up, twistin’ the muscles in his arm twitching and spasming as he grunts softly, groans. Your ego swells at the thought that all of this is because of you – before your mind catches up and scolds you for the thought. You were probably just a body to him, to Kylo. Just another pair of tits, a naked woman for him to feast his eyes on.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, voice wobbly with how he’s workin’ at his dick, jerkin’ himself off.

“No.” You shake your head, your mood souring just the tiniest bit. Him wanting to kiss you helps soothe your thoughts, so you keep your tone light, “But you can taste me. Come on cowboy, taste me.”

It was the right thing to do, to say, because the moment your words leave your lips, Kylo’s tongue is pressin’ against your pulse. He moans outright, his hips bucking up into his fist, shoulders curlin’ in on themselves so they can press him closer to you. Your arm curls around his waist, friction against your nipples as he shudders and shakes against you, laves his tongue and licking up the sweat that’s started to collect.

Your pussy throbs, so turned on by him, too turned on – but you won’t let him watch you do that, not today. You’ve won this battle, this test, this challenge for trust, he will win another day. You’ll find some secret time to touch yourself, to slide your fingers between the folds of your cunt and rub at your clit and come around your fingers like you spend so many nights doing; although this time, you’re sure you’ll be doin’ it to the memory of him,

“Angel, oh – ughn, that’s good.” He moans, voice gravelly and deep, the back of his throat clickin’ with want. Your name, your name sounds divine comin’ outta his mouth, and you want to hate how much you love it, how it makes the pit of your stomach flutter.

Ain’t nobody ever said your name that way before, not like this.

“I’ve got you.” You soothe him much like you used to soothe the childr—no, you shake your head, not the time, not the place. Kylo’s whining and crying, you can feel the wetness against your neck as he licks your throat, sucks on it, worries it between his teeth as he tastes you.

He comes before he can give any warning, aside from the way his body tenses up all of a sudden.

“Mmm, ah, ah,” He shudders as he spills over his hand, his fingers blockin’ it so it don’t go arcin’ up onto you. You appreciate that, the consideration, even though you wouldn’t have minded one bit. You’re in the river after all, and the river washes everything away. He winces and sighs and groans out a little, “Fuck.”

“Hm?” You don’t step away from him yet, you don’t go nowhere. You stay close, right there, too close.

“Probably shouldn’t’ve done that in the water we’re supposed to drink.” Kylo grumbles, slightly slurring his words.

Something about that makes you want to laugh, and you only rub his shoulder. He looks up at you with that big brown eye, the other one milky white, the reflection of the universe, everything and nothing inside of it all the same.

“I’ve already filled the canteens, but the current will take it.” You say like it’s no problem, because it ain’t no problem, not really. You don’t know what to do next.

What comes next, in times like these? You don’t have the know-how, not really, you don’t know what to say. So you simply grab a bar of soap that’s been resting on a rock that justs outta the river, and wade deeper into the water, tossin’ over your shoulder, “Next time aim somewhere else.”

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

Later, much later, when your clothes have dried and you’ve changed into clean outfits, the both of y’all walk a great long distance against the river’s bank. Sam and Agnes must be thrilled, you think, to be out of the immediate blaze of the sun, the cliffs of the gorge sheltering y’all as you keep close to the river.

Kylo doesn’t say much, but he does walk beside you and not in front of you, and he’s earned a shred more respect from you for that.

“What were you doin’, stealing the sheriff’s horse?” You ask, the question havin’ been on your mind all day.

For the first time, he doesn’t react well to your questions, stops straight in his tracks with a murderous scowl, and for a second, you think he really could be Kylo Ren.

“I didn’t go stealin’ no fuckin’ horse!” He fumes, hands wavin’ all wild like as he talks, as he explains, “Sam had gotten herself all interested in the town and wandered off in the middle of the night. I had to walk eight miles followin’ her fuckin’ prints in the sand only to find her integrated into the town. When I tried to explain that she was mine, they didn’t believe me and strung me up.”

There’s a lot of questions there that you could ask, but the one that blurts out before you have a chance at a real thought it,

“You tracked her prints for eight miles?”

You stop walking too, impressed. You hate to admit that you’re impressed. You were so used to runnin’, so used to avoid bein’ caught that you never really learned how to chase.

“It’s easy when there ain’t no wind.” Kylo doesn’t move, regards you carefully as he explains, “Nothin’ to blow ‘em away.”

“What about when there is wind?” You demand, not sure why you’re suddenly so interested. Maybe you’re jealous, is that what this is? Jealousy? Maybe he’ll teach you, you think, maybe he’ll show you.

You think about your wanted posters, how yours is only 25,000 and his is 100,000. You wonder what else he might be inclined to show you.

 “I’m real good at that sort of thing, my uncle taught me. Tracking, trapping, hunting, herding, you know.” Kylo says, “When it comes time for dinner tonight, I’ll show you.”

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

He hunts a cottontail, for dinner.

You’ve never been able to catch a cottontail, you think, as it roasts slowly on a spicket over the fire that you and Kylo built once you’ve settled in for the night. You’re a long way away from Horseshoe Bend now, but you haven’t left the closeness behind. Further along the river you and Kylo have set up camp for the evening, and this time, you don’t worry too much about him guttin’ you in your sleep.

You still worry about it o’course, but. Not too much.

“Shit.” You sigh as your teeth rip into the meat when he hands you your portion, and Kylo’s chest puffs with pride.

“At the rate we’re goin’, we’ll be headin’ into a small town tomorrow.” He replies quietly, biting into the rabbit he serves himself, “Smaller than the last one, by a lot. I think they got maybe three public buildin’s, the rest all houses and farm. We’ll need a cover story, because there’s gonna be questions.”

“You wanna be my brother or my cousin?” You hum, and Kylo looks at you funny.

“I’m too old to be your brother.” Kylo’s quick to respond and he says that too harshly, a sour subject that you didn’t know. Well how were you supposed to know, you think, trying not to get angry with him for snapping at you.

“How old are you?” You wonder, because really, you know so little about him, you know so little about anyone in the world, you realize.

“Too old to be your brother.” Kylo whispers, and you nod in resignation. There was enough sharing today, you think, enough testing the waters as it were.

“Cousin it is then.” You finish the last few bites of the small rabbit and begin to settle down atop your pillow made from the knapsacks and satchels, fishing out your favorite blanket and tugging it around your arms, “We’ll figure the rest out in the morning, I’m tired.”

It’s quiet, for a while.

Nothing but the sound of the river, and the fire that separates you and Kylo, a wall between you. You listen as he rustles and shifts around on the hard ground, no pillow and no blanket again. He puts his hat over his face as a cover against the light from the flames, you watch discreetly from the corner of your eye.

“It’ll be cold again tonight.” Kylo whispers.

Come sleep next to me.

“Goodnight, Ren.” You reply.

I can’t. Not yet.

 Not yet.

[lu-undy]

Un-alone, Chapter 4

Here it is!

“I’m so happy they let you stay here, at least for the wedding and all.”

“I am absolutely delighted, petite fleur.”

[little flower]

Lucien took Marie’s hand and looked at the ring on their fingers.

“I can hardly believe that I am now married.” He said.

“That’s what I should be saying.” She answered.

“How on Earth could you think that no man would marry you?”

“I’m not the marryin’ type. Just never saw the point of it.”

“Oh…”

“Until now.”

They exchanged a conniving smile and a kiss that of course Marie initiated.

“Lulu?”

“Oui.”

“I love you.”

He blushed.

“So do I, infinitely.”

And now it was raining. Hold on, how could it be raining, they were inside? And why was it so hot?

“Oh merde…”

Lucien woke up, or rather his hot tears woke him up. He looked at the time and it was barely 4 in the morning. He tried to fall back asleep after wiping his face with the back of his hand, but to no avail. So after fighting with himself, he decided to pull himself out of his bed.

He sighed and took a shower just to chase the last bit of hope for sleep away before realising that he hadn’t had anything to eat for more than 24 hours. So he headed out of his room and of his hotel, in search of some food. 

He found barely anything edible so he dragged his feet in a city that he started to hate profoundly until he found himself in a park. He sat on the first free bench he encountered and waited. 

For what? 

He thought that he would wait for the first few cafés to open up to get himself some decent breakfast. But in truth, the more he waited, the less he wanted to move. 

"Hey…" 

Lucien smelled the intrusion before he could hear or see it. It was a beggar. The poor man sat next to the prim one, who was still wearing his black suit. Lucien took a cigarette and lit it.

Ooh, that one was a good one, extra bitter from his fasting. Perfect. It burnt his trachea to the point of pulling the tears out of his eyes. 

"You up early, eh?" 

"I am." The Frenchman said. 

“Somethin’s on your mind?”

Lucien frowned and sucked on his cigarette harder. 

“I just lost my wife.” He coldly said and getting the words out of his mouth was both extremely easy and unbelievably hard. 

“Oh, wow… ‘m sorry…” The beggar removed his worn out hat. He scratched his bushy beard. “Is that why you’re out this early? Ya couldn’t sleep?”

“Oui, exactly.”

“I see. You don’t seem too old though, pal. The missus was young?”

“Younger than me, and infinitely better.”

“Arh… I‘m real sorry, man…”

“Mh.” Lucien sucked on his cigarette more and he realised that it was finished. He took his cigarette case out and offered one to the beggar, whose eyebrows jumped before he accepted. 

“That’s kind of ya.”

Lucien lit both of them and smoked again.

 “The worst part is that I wasn’t there for her.”

“In the end?”

“Non, all along. I barely was at her side, and wasn’t there for her last moments.”

“Why?” The beggar asked, seeing that his improvised bench-friend was now leading the conversation.

“Because I made the wrong choice decades ago. I chose my career over her.”

“So you left her all that time ago? But she’s still your wife?”

“Non, she…” Lucien raised a trembling hand to his brow, while holding his cigarette between his fingers. “She agreed to it.”

“What…?”

“She agreed to it. I was married to the only woman in the world who… putain de merde…”

[fucking hell...]

The beggar’s eyebrows were still up.

“Doesn’t sound like your typical gal, eh… Did she leave anythin’ to you?”

Lucien’s eyes slashed to the beggar’s and he might have shot bullets out of them. Money was a dirty topic and Lucien didn’t want any of Marie’s hard earned dollars.

“Don’t look at me like that, I don’t mean it for the cash! I meant like souvenirs or somethin’.”

Lucien exhaled and looked away.

“Only a letter.”

“Oh… What’s it say?”

Lucien frowned. It wasn’t like him to openly pour his life into the first stranger to come into his life. It was immensely dangerous. What if that man wasn’t a beggar but another, less than friendly spy? 

“She is asking me for two favours.”

“Oh ho, let’s hear it.”

Lucien took the letter out of his pocket and read it again, squinting at the letters to imagine the pen gliding, the ink absorbing into the grainy paper, all of this under her soft hand…

“When I met her, I was a singer.” Lucien started. “She is asking me to continue singing.”

“Oh, that’s sweet, eh. Women are like that...”

“Oui.” Lucien read it all diagonally again. He knew the letter by heart and it bore very little magic anymore, although paradoxically, it was the most precious object in the world. 

“What’s the other thing?”

“We… We had a son.”

“Had?” The older man asked. “Did he also…?”

“Non, he is alive and well.” Lucien folded the letter and put it back in his breast pocket. “She asked me to help him in life with a job. She thinks he is gifted.”

“What d’you work as?” The beggar asked.

“The worst.” Lucien answered.

“Well, a job’s a job, eh? Puts food on the table. Can you get him to work with you, whatever you’re doin’?”

Lucien’s eyebrows jumped and he winced.

“Never!” He answered and almost jumped on his seat. “My occupation is a nightmare, a hell that is painfully real. I do not wish for anyone to follow my footsteps, especially him, because in the end, he will surely make the same mistakes as I did. He might choose his work over his own life and lose the only woman who ever understood him.”

“You’re wrong, pal.”

Lucien’s eyebrows jumped and he turned his head to the beggar. He was shaking his head.

“He might like the job, he might even be good at it, do something good with his life. And it’d put his Ma’ to rest too. Look, there aren’t any half-jobs, or bad ones. It’s only bad if you don’t like it. And if the wife’s seen somethin’ in him, then surely there is. Or maybe you don’t agree with her? Don’t you see him like she does?”

“I do not see him, full stop.” Lucien answered. “I do not see him because I was there for him up until his mind could remember me.”

“That’s when ya left?”

Lucien nodded.

“If you don’t mind me sayin’... That’s a hell of a mess you’ve lived through, man. I mean. You get married to a woman and you agree to live separated for decades you say? And you leave her with the kid too? Bit odd, eh?”

The Frenchman held his head in his gloved hands, his cigarette hanging from his lips.

“Besides… About your son, he's already lost his Mum. You're the only thing he has left even though it's tough with you."

Lucien sighed.

"Yeah, a mess of a life you built yourself, I don’t know how you’re gonna get yourself straight after all that.”

Lucien took a deep breath and stood up.

“I will not.”

He left the bench and walked some more. He carefully avoided any and all places that carried some souvenirs until he fell deep in thought. He didn’t see the streets, Boston waking up and going to work. Non, he only saw his black shoes swallowing more and more of the grey pavement, his heels lightly clicking with every step, stabbing his ears.

Cafés were opening thankfully and he entered the first one to cross his path. Lucien went to a table in the corner and sat down, with the window on his right hand.

“Hey there, how can I help?”

“A black coffee please.”

The waitress disappeared and he lit yet another cigarette. He saw in his metallic case that he was eating the cigarettes way faster than in normal circumstances. Marie would have told him off…

His coffee landed in front of him and soon, people started coming and going in the café, bringing some distraction to the grieving man. He had hoped that sitting next to the window would help with that too, but to no avail. 

He did the only thing he could to not let his mind play any more tricks on him and took a sip of the coffee. Ah, hot and bitter. It burnt his tongue and left an awful aftertaste that lingered all the way down to his stomach. 

Lucien frowned and put the cup back on the table before opening the letter again. His mind rolled and rolled. He would do anything for Marie, but would he have liked Jérémy to become a spy too? Surely the boy could do something better than that, better than himself. Yet she said that he was gifted and Lucien knew that she was an admirable judge of character. 

“Mh…” He grumbled and shook his head. 

He didn’t want his son to follow his path. It was way too dangerous, and for what in the end? Nothing. Nothing was worth losing his family and his life over. 

And then Fred's words came to Lucien. 

So that was the plan the Ministry had for his retirement, huh? Turn him into an instructor? Pfff… If he could, he'd burst into the Minister's office and he'd have a word with him! But Lucien was in America, thousands of miles away from the office that now doomed him further.

“What did he have?”

“A black coffee.”

“Bring me the same, yeah?”

“Sure thing!”

A silhouette appeared in front of Lucien.

“I see you haven’t killed anyone yet, eh?”

Lucien frowned and still refused to make eye contact with his American colleague.

“HQ is mad at the damage you did in the gym the other day.” He took his pack of cigarettes and lit one up as the waitress brought him his coffee. “They say they’ll make you pay for repairs.”

“What more do they want? Do I need to bury myself in the ground next to Marie for everyone to leave me in peace?” Lucien answered in a sigh.

Fred fell silent for a moment, looking at people coming and going. He waited for Lucien to drink a bit more to start the conversation again.

“Managed to sleep at all?”

Lucien eventually raised his eyes to his American colleague. The dark circles around his eyes answered for him.

“Thought about what I told you the other day?”

“Oui, and my answer is non. I am quitting. This is it.”

“You might wanna reconsider that, pal.” Fred put the cigarette on his lips and took an envelope out of his coat pocket. He slid it on the table. 

“What is this?”

“Work.”

“For me?” Lucien asked.

“Yup.”

“Fred, I said I am quitting.” Lucien pushed the envelope back to the American.

“Yeah, but you didn’t tell anyone yet. So here’s work.”

The Frenchman frowned and shook his head. 

“Non.”

“Listen, pal, you can resign all you want but they’re gonna receive your letter after they sent you this, so they’ll expect you to do this first. You can then try and ask them to leave without training a newbie, but I doubt they’ll accept. Everyone does that now. The hard days of the war in Europe are over. You and I were trained like no people should be trained, but that’s what makes us so good at what we’re doin’. They want us to pass on the tricks and all to the younger ones.” 

“I could hardly care less. I have nothing left on this Earth to care about.”

“Wouldn’t that exactly make you the best spy?” Fred asked and Lucien stared in his eyes for a long second before averting his gaze. “Open the file.”

Lucien sighed. He hung his menthol cigarette between his lips and pulled the file to himself before opening it. His stare was still slicing through Fred’s.

“I am not doing it out of anything but my own curiosity.”

“I know.”

The envelope yielded and Lucien retrieved the papers and pictures. The French spy read the file diagonally. He knew how mission orders worked all too well. 

“Seems easy enough, doesn’t it?” Fred said, observing his friend discover the mess of a file he had been handed. “And yet, we’re up against the Soviets to find that guy before they do.”

“This might seem easy,” Lucien answered and removed the cigarette from between his lips to tap it against the ashtray. “However, above anything else, this is an American problem.” He put the papers and pictures together and slid them back into the envelope before sliding it back to Fred.

“Yep, you’re right.”

“It doesn't bear any sign of it being given by the French government. We have no input in this.”

“Yep, absolutely.” Fred sucked on his cigarette and blew the smoke away. “But this thing here, it’s been botherin’ me and my friends for far too long.”

Lucien raised an eyebrow. How was that any of his problems?

“So here’s the deal. You do this for me, and I’ll pay for the repairs for the gym in your place.”

Lucien burst out laughing.

“You do surprise me, Fred. You should know me better than this.” He scoffed.

“Yep, so let me put this differently…” Fred shifted closer to the table and laced his fingers together. He bent closer to Lucien opposite him. “This is my pay back.”

“What for?” Lucien asked arrogantly.

"You owe me, Frenchie."

"And what for, huh?" Lucien scoffed.

“Mary.”

Lucien’s smile shattered and his brow furrowed. 

“Listen, pal. While you were tourin’ the world and huntin’ Nazis and all, someone here had to look after the missus. More than twenty years I kept an eye on her for you, for nothing more than friendship. Now, I’ve got this case,” Fred pointed at the envelope, half annoyed and three quarters fed up. “The guy’s a goddamn pain in my ass to get, been on him for years and the Soviets might be closer than we are to get him.”

“So you blackmail me because you are desperate?” Lucien hurt him back, clearly signalling that he did not appreciate Fred’s way of doing things. 

Fred frowned and sighed. 

“I blackmail you because I’m stuck and you’re the best spy I know, you fancy ass.”

Lucien shook his head and smirked.

“I am indeed exactly that, without a doubt, you mannerless primate. But Marie is dead and gone. I have nothing left that ties me to this job or this life.”

“You got your son.”

“And?”

“The kid’s homeless and jobless. Good at baseball but absolute shit at school. He’s never gonna be as successful as his dear Papa.” Fred arrogantly answered.

“Do not speak of him.” Lucien looked away and contained his anger but Fred knew his friend all too well, and his reaction there betrayed his emotion. 

“Take him in to help. You’ll spend some quality time and hit all the birds in the world with one stone. You’ll do me a favour and you’ll get him a job and a future, and!” Fred raised a triumphant index finger. “You’ll train a rookie so they’ll be very happy high up. And who knows? The kid might have gotten somethin’ from you after all, eh?”

Lucien frowned. 

“After all that, you can call it quits. Just vanish again, fly back to Paris or the fuckin’ Moon for all I care. You’ll have cleared your slate.”

Lucien sighed in exasperation. 

“I will not involve him.”

“So you’re gonna let him be jobless, homeless and orphaned longer, eh?”

“He is not an orphan.” Lucien’s jaw was tense. 

“It’s all the same. Lives with his auntie now and two little cousins who look up to one bad slice of an example. I don’t want to hurt you further but the kid doesn’t listen, he doesn’t stay home. He spends his life outside and doesn’t have anything to do, he’s practically in a limbo of his own. You and I both know what happens to kids like that. They either finish on our side of the bars or the other.”

Lucien winced at the thought of Jérémy breaking the law, getting caught and sent to jail. What would Marie think…?

“Best thing you can do is just do it. Go through it and get done. You don’t even need to tell him you’re his Dad! And you don’t have to babysit him either, he’s overage now. Can vote, go to college or buy a gun and make his life a livin’ hell and fuck Mary’s efforts up!”

Lucien held the bridge of his nose with two fingers.

“You do as you wish, pal.” 

Fred crushed his cigarette in the ashtray and stood up before he left the café, leaving the envelope on the table. Lucien watched him and waited for the American to be out of sight before cursing in his mother tongue. His fingers slid to his head and he grasped handfuls of his hair, staring at the bottom of his near empty coffee cup. 

[musedblues]

From The Shadows

summary: Gwilym is full of secrets. People in town seem to know them all. You've got to decided who, and what to believe.

a/n: Once upon a time, I fell asleep in the middle of Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds, promptly dreamed this whole thing up, and then told @brianmays-hair​ I'd write it for her birthday. Better late than never, aye? So here... whatever this is, is! Suspend your disbelief and try to enjoy this actual 1950's fever dream? (I truly cannot believe I've done this)

w/c: 15k

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

He didn't want for it to happen... the accident. Of course he didn't. But he did think moving here would be safe. Gwilym soon realized no place was safe. So he settled, and he lived with a thousand regrets, and he stopped dreaming anything would ever change.

///

You couldn't think up one good reason to say no.

Your aunt was an elusive Hollywood costume designer, who rarely showed up for the holidays. But when she passed on, she left her home to you. With your sister long married and moved away, and you parents happily retired, there was nothing stopping you from packing up and heading out.

Sure you liked the place you'd been living in, and your mediocre life there. But there was something about the timing. When had life ever awarded anyone such a bold-faced fresh start without something taxing having been the catalyst? So with the stars seeming to have perfectly aligned, you moved to Bodega Bay.

It was her summer home. A place you'd never been too, but the one your aunt ended up secluding herself to for the last decade or so. If she liked it well enough to die there, it must have been a lovely place. Maybe it was foolish of you to take what you could carry and crash in a place you knew nothing about. But there was some undeniable force pushing you along, a little voice in your head urging you not to squander this divine change of pace. Besides, you could use a little more sunshine.

The ride there was long and silent, as the cab driver seemed keener on training his ear to the ball game on the radio. You kept an eye out the window and watched the ocean appear between neighbourhoods and pockets of green. The water seemed to welcome you, showing more of itself the closer you got to where you were going. But the waves became less fierce and foamy as you turned into the town tucked between the rolling raised land. There was a calm sapphire bay surrounding the place that sparkled in the midday sun, and you realized at first glance what must have drawn people to settle here. It was picture-perfect, like nothing could go wrong. Or if it had, the beauty of it all might've shone bright enough to drown everyone's sorrows.

"This is all the further I can take you." The driver parked near a boardwalk that split into rows of docks. You thanked him, collected your things, and turned to find someone you might be able to ask for a bit of direction.

///

Every day was the same for Gwilym. He woke up, rowed across the bay, and worked until he got to row back home and enjoy the solitude. When he wasn't tending to the garden he bothered keeping, he was working at the shop on the dock; unloading crates from ships, and setting them in trucks that rode to different businesses around town. Then he'd carry the boxes meant for the dock shop into the back room and sort through what he could before it was time to go home, where the quiet was a comfort.

He spoke of business with the shopkeep, and hardly much more with anyone else. That was the way it had to be. As the Englishman gave a nod to the man who gave him work, Gwilym wondered if he'd ever be able to repay the man. He was one of the few people here who treated Gwilym with any kind of benevolence. It was hatred or less, otherwise. And some days his invisibility weighed more sorrowfully on Gwilym's heart than anything.

Tonight, as he shuffled down the rickety dock and stepped onto his boat that stirred with the water, Gwilym was unusually interrupted.

"Hiya." A voice came, sweet and unsure. It was the hesitation in her tone that made him look her way. The wonder in her voice wasn't as malice as he'd come to recognize. But he looked up and saw her and wished he never did. Her features were perfectly aligned and her pale dress fit her form with grace. He looked at her and held his breath for a new reason among the others, and hoped her question was simple; because the longer he looked, the more he wanted to help her, and he knew that wasn't possible.

"I've just arrived and I'm trying to find my way around here." She rested two suitcases down, and shuffled closer to where Gwyilm paused in his leaning to untether his ride from its mooring.

"Do you know this address?" The woman extended a slip of paper with numbers and a street name scrawled in messy cursive. He looked upon it and knew. Of course, he knew the address. There weren't very many paths to weave between in Bodega Bay.

With a quick glance around, Gwilym saw the calm waters surrounding the island beyond the docks. He noticed the stillness of the town too, and wondered what to do.

"Yes, you're looking for a house on the island," Gwilym spoke, reluctantly turning his head toward the middle of these waters. The woman's brows curved up and her glance turned, too.

"There are usually men with boats who offer rides for a dollar or more. It appears none of them are around just yet." Gwilym sighed. He used to worry about letting people down. But over the year, he worried less about what people thought of him and more over if they'd dare to speak out about it. But now, with this stranger, Gwilym felt an urgent pang to extend an offer her way, even though he knew better than to do so.

"I can give you a ride there now, if your going is dire. The others will likely be round in a couple of hours, otherwise." He hesitated in voicing his offer, the only warning he could give without all but scaring her away.

"Oh, could you?" She grinned brightly. "I've only got those two bags and I'd be awfully grateful for a lift."

If this was a cruel trick, Gwilym decided he'd willingly pay the price, for her. She seemed genuine and clueless in his presence. But he recognized she was smart enough, and if she stayed here long, this ride would come to haunt her. That thought nearly made him take it all back and deny her help. Save her trouble in the long run. But she was already shuffling to collect her things with a smile.

///

The idyllic little town with pastel structures settled on the water's edge could only be made more enchanting by the kinds of people who occupied here.

When you breezed toward the man at the end of the wooden walkway, you hadn't known exactly what to expect. But a tall, handsome Englishmen wasn't it. He seemed stoic. Maybe exhausted from a long day. His eyes were a shade of blue you'd never seen the likes of, not even in the crystal waters that lapped along the boardwalk.

He took the two cases you'd brought along and helped you aboard his modest boat with a crisp sail, with one strong hand. If this was the start of your staying here, you wondered what was around the corner. Was it much too soon to hope his face would be some kind of constant?

The island wasn't far. You could see homes and speckles of gardens from the place you'd sailed off from. But the ride was only as fast as the waters and wind allowed. Time enough for a conversation to sprout past the heavy silence.

"So I take it you aren't one who offers rides, often?" You wondered, from the spot you'd settled, soaking up the scenery.

"No. There are a few others, who cater to folks who've lived here for years. There is no one waiting around to ferry newcomers, because there never really are any."

"Then I caught you right on time." You smiled. He seemed to try, but struggled to return the expression.

"You'll want to keep an eye out for Dean," The man said, steering the boat against a breeze. "He's give's plenty of lifts for a decent price."

"But what's your name?" You wondered, in the middle of the bay now, with the most handsome man you'd ever laid your eyes upon.

"I'm Gwilym." He pursed his smile and turned his eyes toward the water and you started to wonder if he'd had more than just a bad day. The rest of the ride was quiet. And even when you made it to land, the man who'd been kind enough to give you a lift kept his mouth shut. He handed you your bags with a cagy grin and pointed you in the right direction as you thanked him one last time. He stayed on his boat, tying ropes to posts as you headed on your way. And though you wanted to look back on your trek down a dirt path peppered with homes, you didn't.

///

It was just like her papers said it would be. Fully furnished, with a nice view. Out of the east, you could see the bay past patches of trees, and it seemed to stretch out until it met the sky.

Sun fluttered through old dusty curtains, and there were even still pill bottles and bandaids in the medicine cabinet. You breezed from the garish pink bathroom, through the steel green master suite to find the halls were empty of picture frames.

In the kitchen, you searched through the ivory white cabinets and found most of the cans of food were outdated, and the water had yet to be turned back on. So with your bags left sitting near the white brick fireplace, you took the key you'd found below the welcome mat, and floated down the path toward the dock nearest your side of the island.

There was someone waiting there, a boy with his feet kicked back in a big canoe. You had that thought again, about how perfect things seemed here, but this time it was paired with the smallest twinge of doubt.

"Hi, uh, would you happen to be someone I could ask a ride from?"  You stepped nearer toward the small wooden dock and watched a young man with a bright smile and dark hair sit up from his boat.

"Sure enough." He grinned up to you, as you paused, unsure of the etiquette of this way of things. "I'm Dean." The boy's smile broadened as he lifted a hand to his brow, to shield the sun as he looked your way. "You must be who has moved into that old Davis place."

"Ah yes, she was my aunt." You noted, understanding how small this broken up town must have been, for a stranger to know your business. Dean nodded and gestured you in for a lift.

"Well," said the man you assumed might have been only a few years older than you, pushing an oar against sinking land. "Welcome to Old Money!"

"That's a funny way of pronouncing Bodega Bay." You grinned, settling on the wooden bench across from him.

"This place used to be full of faces as young as ours. But most moved around the bend to Hollywood. So now it's mostly just old rich bastards, and a few of their spoiled rich kids, here." Dean told.

"And which of the two are you?" You rose a brow to the guy as he rowed along.

"The latter, I'm afraid."

You chuckled at his honest nod and turned to admire what you could see of the town as you floated closer toward it. "What a strange place, indeed."

"Is that all you make of Bodega Bay so far?" Dean wondered, not offended in his asking, but truly curious it seemed.

"Well, so far I've only just arrived and found my way to the island. I would have thought the town abandoned if I hadn't gotten lucky to catch a gent just leaving the harbour." You laughed a little as Dean listened. He seemed to raise a dark brow for you to go on.

"How silly of me to have let his name slip my mind already," You gestured as you thought aloud. "Let's see, he was quite tall, oh and English and-"

"Gwilym? You met Mr. Lee!" Dean beamed, rowing all the while.

"Yes, Gwilym was his name."

"You, my dear," Dean said, looking to you like you were in on some joke. "are very lucky."

Today wasn't what you'd expected in this quaint little village you were meant to call home, now. Home... such a silly word for here. You didn't quite feel at home in the misty air. But the folks you'd met so far made you smile to think of. The bay wavered as you rode along. It wasn't the steady grounding feeling of welcome you'd anticipated to sink into amidst the old cozy community. But you hoped that once this all became familiar, you'd be glad for it.

///

He was cursed, sure, but this was a new torture. When he saw her again... he was glad for it.

She was skipping along with Dean through the trails of the island when they saw him, too. It was her, who rose a hand to catch Gwilym's attention, though she already had it. She was beautiful. Like how the moon was beautiful, and everyone knew it, but still looked and marvelled at the sight of its shine like it was unbelievable.

She stopped and asked how he was doing and he couldn't think up an answer to a question he'd rarely been asked, since moving here.

"Dean was just showing me around the island," She gestured to the bright-eyed dark-haired man a few years younger than Gwilym. His smile was pleasant as ever it had been. Dean might have been the closest thing to a friend Gwilym had known, here, or ever. "And he pointed out your house. Mr. Lee, it's beautiful."

The sincerity in her tone made him chuckle. He couldn't help it.

"It's a few blue shutters between a few tall trees." Gwilym shrugged, shoving his hands in the pockets of his trousers, casting a gaze to the boat he was planning on taking out on the water, as far as it would go before the sun set and his work week started again.

"But those flowers growing up from your back garden that I could see from these trails..." She pointed his way with a grin. Gwilym was in awe by the turn of her painted lips and the way he knew she was trying to get him to carry on some kind of banter.

But then a pair of young friends rode around the corner on bicycles. They halted their wheels from turning by digging their heels into the dirt. They saw him, and maneuvered their bikes to turn the other way. Gwilym was snapped back to reality, one he was desperate to spare this new stunning stranger from. So Gwilym cleared his throat and nodded to Dean, who nodded back with reluctant understanding.

Dean knew a lot, but neither of them had spoken a word about what happened since the start of the year. They'd barely spoken at all, outside of the shop. Dean respected Gwilym's distance.

Gwilym had to go about his evening like always. He couldn't be to her what he'd just briefly been. He couldn't lie. When he managed to escape, and wave the pair off, a weight lifted from his chest as they turned off laughing together. But all at once, as they disappeared down the trail, Gwilym's heart sank. He wanted to laugh with her. He thought moments ago that he might've been able to share trivial talk until nightfall. But he couldn't. Of course he couldn't.

He sailed alone and reminded himself it had to be that way.

///

He used to go to parties. And people would greet him with glee when he arrived. He used to sit and mingle, and dance with strangers and familiar faces. But they all turned on him, and he knew he'd never be able to gain the likes of such company again.

He knew he'd always be seen as some vile, heartless monster. He knew his hurt and his fear was his alone and that peoples suspicions were stronger than their hearts, at first glance and forever then after.

So he kept his head down in line at the bank, wishing he'd shown up when less of the townspeople had. He knew catching their sneers (if the dared to look toward him) would only add to his never-ending ache.

So Gwilym offered a polite grin to the lady behind the counter even though he knew she wouldn't return it. He knew it didn't make him look better either, or change anyone's made up minds. But he thought it must have been better than scowling back.

He prepared to bolt after his transaction was through. And he did. But time seemed to freeze for just a moment when he looked up and saw her. The woman for whom he'd given a ride. Who'd stopped to greet him kindly just a day ago.

She was there before him, again. With perfectly styled hair and an openness on her face when she noticed him. He knew it was better to smile, but he couldn't help but hurry away faster. He had to outrun the way his heart felt light at the simple sight of one ignorant stranger. Gwilym knew she'd find out soon enough, and eventually, she wouldn't look at him like that, like she was glad to see him. He hurried away and wished he didn't have too.

///

You had come to depend on Dean for many a ride. When he told you lot's of people had their own boats, or took the big one into town at six a.m. you almost felt bad for asking him. But he followed up his saying so by telling you he was glad for the extra company. You'd toss him a couple of coins for his trouble and head into town to find something to occupy your time.

That's when you met Maggie. The girl Dean so often rambled about on rides to and fro. She was waiting on the boardwalk one morning with a big shiny hardback book for your dark haired friend in her grasp. They weren't official, not yet. He told you he was still gaining the gull to take her out. But it was clear she was mad about the guy. Who wouldn't be? With his contagious grin and the gentle way about him.

Maggie parted ways with Dean on his way to his job at the dock shop, and promptly hooked you up with a gig at the library. She worked there, alongside another much older woman who was glad to hire you on. Miss Porter gave you books to label, and shelves to clean, and left you to man the desk while she planned children programs and filed fees away. Maggie usually hosted the events Miss Porter planned, corralling kids to think up their own fairytales, or reading to a few when school let out.

It was an easy, quiet, delightful job. When Miss Porter handed over your very first paycheck, you practically skipped to the bank on your lunch break, but came back with a puzzled expression stuck on your face.

"Did you go? Did you talk to the teller I recommended?" Miss Porter wondered, sitting in the seat next to where you'd settled in to finish out your workday.

"Yes!" You promised with a nod. You told her how smoothly everything went, and how you'd even recognized a few people in line ahead of you. The man from the market and some ladies who'd checked out books from you on your first day. And then you mentioned Gwilym. You mentioned how you'd met him first thing, before anyone. Then, bashfully, how charmed you were by the guy. How you'd hoped to see more of him.

"But... he was just so strange, today. Like he couldn't wait to get out of there. Like he didn't know me." You boggled, tapping labels to new books. You glance up to notice Miss Porter's face, the hesitation on her lips, her lingering worried eyes.

"What?" You wondered flatly.

"Mr Lee. He's... well there are rumours about him. And where there's smoke there's fire." The old woman let out a humorous huff of a laugh. "Just- keep your head about yourself, girl."

"Yeah, okay." You gave Miss Porter a sidelong glance and floated along with her change in conversation. She chattered about her own lunch break and the friends she met up with during the hour. You listened, half-heartedly considering her gossip and watching the clock tick until someone eventually slid a book across the desk to you.

"Fancy seeing you here again." A voice rang past a smile, belonging to a boy with flaxen hair who'd come to the library almost every other day you worked, this month.

"Jake," You acknowledged with a tired grin. You never had much interest in his flirting, but his acquaintance had proven to be harmless and sometimes the most entertaining part of your afternoon. The buzz about the library was the only thing you had to look forward to, and more often than naught; the halls were empty and you'd unsort books just to busy yourself with putting them in order again. So, you at least tried to enjoy conversation with the preppy guy.

"Say, didn't you mention last week something about moving here for a bit of adventure?" He asked as you glimpsed to the cover of the text he was checking out. A book on ethics that looked unopened.

"Perhaps I might've." You mumbled, going about scribbling the date down.

"Then why do I only see you here and not anyplace else people our age hang around in, hmm?" The blonde boy wondered, looking to you. You gave him a sorry shrug and hoped he'd enjoy the book, reminding it was due back in two weeks. Jake's smile grew before he parted, as you turned to find Miss Porter watching you with a matching grin. Then she started her gossiping, about how Jake came from a good family with money and charm; The Hollywood type, she said.

She had a lot of opinions about everyone in town, it seemed. You let her ramble, but knew better than to listen too closely.

///

There was your life at the library, and then hardly much else. You came to recognize faces that you'd never see outside of the place you worked. Dean was the only friend you had beyond the confines of the desk. Even Maggie seemed lost to the halls of books. Neither of you had seen much of her, and every time you asked Dean, he seemed just as clueless as you were of her whereabouts after work hours.

So you stuck close to the boy and went to record shops and pubs when you felt like it. Between nights full of chatter about Bodega Bay's fast approaching annual fall festival, and antidotes about your lives before now, you always tried to circle back around to the same subject.

It seemed like Dean might've known more about Mr. Lee than he let on. You ask how he'd been, knowing the men worked closely together. Dean would only say they were both too busy to trade any small talk during the day. You'd ask how someone from so far came to know the quaint little town, but Dean would turn the question back around to you, and point out how you'd come to stay. All of your questions of Mr. Lee went marginally unanswered. Maybe Dean knew what you were really trying to ask. Maybe you were too afraid to wonder outright.

You thought much of him, Mr Lee. So the next time you caught a glimpse of his broad figure on the harbour, you asked Dean to wait up, as you rushed to say hello.

///

"Hey, you!"

Oh, it couldn't be? Gwilym could have smiled despite himself. There she was, taking steps closer over scattered ropes, headed right his way. Gwilym set down the crate he was carrying atop another and turned to face her as she'd already caught his attention.

"Don't you ever stop working?" She asked with a soft smile, coming to a slow halt before him. "You say you live on the island but I swear if I squint from there I can see you over here sorting boxes at all hours."

"It's better to be busy." Gwilym shrugged, letting his lips upturn for a moment.

"I suppose. But I hear there's a festival coming. Surely you'll have time free to waste all your well-earned dollars trying to win a fish in a bag?"

He had to chuckle. She spoke to him like they'd been friends for so long that there were no more secrets to trade, only small talk.

"Uh, no, I think not," Gwilym admitted, keeping his smile and trying not to stare at her own. "I'd much prefer to hide away during the festival." He hoped he seemed more antisocial on his own accord. Like he hadn't been scared into staying in for so long that he prefered it, in the end. Like it was his choice all along.

"Hm, why? Are the games not nearly as exciting as I've imagined them to be?"

"Well, yes that is one reason." He shrugged. "There are usually only a few tents and things. Most people use the festival as an excuse to pack the bay with their boats and scare the fish away for months."

"And you don't prefer to sail your boat somewhere in the middle of it all?"

He shook his head and reached for the crates once more, struck with a sudden thrum of worry, a realization that he shouldn't be carrying on just so.

Perhaps he sensed it coming, the inevitable. Before Gwilym could give a farewell to the woman he'd been foolishly thinking of, he heard footsteps pounding down the harbour toward where they stood.

At the sight of someone storming right her way, Gwilym turned in a hurry. To save her the embarrassment, or torment, or whatever she might receive for sharing a word with him. And as he left- though he couldn't understand why, and he feared the possibility, he hoped to see her again.

///

You were just about to demand Mr. Lee cease being so bloody mysterious and come to dinner with you and Dean.

But his bright eyes tore from yours and floated over your shoulder, and his smile faded. Gwilym cleared his throat and ducked his head through the back door of the shop, leaving you without another word, like you'd hadn't just stood and spoken at all, and were completely unworthy of a goodbye. As you tried not to let his odd behaviour sting, you turned to see what the matter was.

You saw Maggie. For the first time out from behind a book in a week or more. Her lily-white fists curled at her sides, and a look meant to kill shot toward you.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" She spat, stalling in front of you, red with anger. You gawked at Maggie, and dared to glimpse around, wondering if there had to be something you were missing.

"Why were you talking to him?" Maggie seethed, snapping your attention back to her. Why was the question, wasn't it? Why had everyone you'd met so strangely behaved at the mention of a name belonging to a man who was hardly ever around?

"Why not, Maggie?" You pressed, feeling vexation start to burn below your surface. You'd known this girl long enough to feel fond of her, but not long enough to give way to her sudden and jarring concern without your own shining through.

"Let me remind you," Maggie hissed, "Because there's no way you're stupid enough to not know yet,"

"Like hell you will, Maggie." Dean appeared in a huff, "Do you really believe all the shit?" In two long strides, Dean was breaking up your standoff with his girl, not on her side, though, it seemed.

Maggie gawked at him, mouth slack between two rosy cheeks coloured by the chill and her anger.

"You don't?" She seemed to warn. And as Dean started shaking his head, she was set off once more. "Why do you think I haven't been around, huh? When I realized you worked alongside the creep I had to wait for you to come around. I could not be seen so near-"

"I will not stand here and let you go on spreading those vile rumours!" Dean stood his ground, at your confounded side.

"Well, I won't stand here and listen to you defend a cold-blooded criminal!" Maggie yanked her hands from her sides to throw them in the air as she hollered. Then she spun on her heels and muttered curses on her stomp back down the boardwalk.

"Dean..." You asked in a sacred hush, watching her storm off. "Why would she say something like that?"

You turned to the only real friend you'd made here. You knew his middle name, and what he really thought of the best pub in town. You knew he wouldn't lie. But you were afraid of what he'd say now.

Dean glanced to his watch with a heavy sigh, then looked back up to you.

"Got time for a really long story?"

///

You settled into Dean's cluttered kitchen and accepted his offer of a dark toxic drink before either of you spoke. And right when you were about to break the silence with one of the dozens of questions swirling through your mind, Dean looked to you.

"My parents were born and raised here, and so was I. But they moved to Hollywood when I went off to college." Dean explained that his mother passed on from illness and his father followed soon after, old age getting the better of the man.

"They were the owners of a building that was left to me. Downstairs was their place, upstairs was an apartment they rented out. And that's how I met Gwilym."

You took a sip of your drink, and nodded for him to go on.

Dean explained that with his parents gone, Gwilym was his only hope of understanding the lease the men were bonded by. Soon their talks grew common. Dean spent many a night sharing drinks with Mr. Lee, like the one he'd just poured for you.

"To have a friend one staircase away was such fun. We were both in desperate need of company. With my parents gone, and his wife never home."

Before you could ask, Dean told. He said Gwilym's wife had dreams of becoming an actor; a dream she'd once shared with her husband. But Gwilym was left to pick up odd jobs while Mrs. Lee went out to every audition. She rarely landed a role, but showed up to so many casting calls and parties that celebrities came to adore her. Mrs. Lee was always out drinking till dawn with the Hollywood elite. "I only ever met her once." Dean shrugged away a halfhearted smile.

He told you Gwilym was left to pay the bills and lend her cash to go back out again, when she came home tipsy in the mid afternoon. Dean said they bickered all the time. When Gwilym asked where she'd been, she would only shout back, call him horrible names Dean could hear from the apartment downstairs. He said even in his every attempt to ignore her picking fights, it was impossible.

"So the last night she came home, I thought it was like any other," Dean recalled, shifting in his ugly vinyl chair.

Dean said Mrs. Lee's sister had come to visit, and both ladies had stayed out all weekend without so much as letting Gwilym know. When they eventually stumbled up the stairs days later at dawn, their drunken laughter woke Dean, and Gwilym's loud worry over where they'd been kept the landlord awake.

Dean said he tried to ignore it. But after an unusual bout of quiet, the ruckus from the upstairs tenant's came back in a new and frightening way. Dean said he'd sprung out of bed purely by instinct, and opened his door to rush to the second level. No sooner than the man had met the bottom of the staircase did the Lee's door fly open. Gwilym tossed his sister in law out, as he stumbled toward the stairs himself. And if Dean hadn't been there to stop him, Mr. Lee would have rushed back into the cloud of smoke billowing from his apartment.

"The whole place burned down." Dean said, matter of factly. A pit opened in your stomach as you tried to wrap your head around the story that had been unfolded. "Mrs. Lee never made it out. Everyone blamed Gwilym. Still do."

"They say he killed her?" You croaked, mostly alarmed by Deans apathetic gaze.

"He was proven innocent." Dean lifted a brow, and his glass. But before he could take a drink, he seemed to realize something. Dean abandoned his alcohol and got up from the table without a word. You watched him disappear around the hall, while you sat in stunned silence. Your mind was too overwhelmed with thought to process much, before Dean was back again, with a crumpled old newspaper in hand.

"When I moved back here, I stuffed papers in the boxes of glasses and plates." Dean chuckled, smoothing out the page on his table. "Didn't even realize I'd used this one till I unpacked. Figured I'd keep it, in case of moment's like now, I guess."

Past the wrinkles, you looked and saw a headline. Gwilym's name printed in black, next to the word innocent, followed by a question mark. You leaned in close to read the article that followed.

It stated that the fire that his wife died in was a proven accident. Mrs. Lee's sister and husband had told the authorities that arrived on the scene the same frantic story. The quote that followed her sister's statement, though, began to help you realize why everyone treated Mr. Lee with such contempt.

Gwilym may not have started the fire, but he drove my sister mad enough to. It was his careless treatment of her that drove my sister away. He killed her in the end, and we won't let him forget it.

"She started the fire?" Your heart dropped away. How could such hate exist? How were their quotes from famous actors mourning the loss of this woman, and cursing her husband's name? Why did the people in Bodega Bay care?

When you asked, Dean said it was because everyone here had some kind of connection to Hollywood, or wanted too. They were always on the side of the stars, always influenced by tabloids and concerned with the gossip that kept them in celebrity loops.

He said he should have known better, when he moved back here and extended an offer for Gwilym to come along, neither of them having a better place to go. Dean said he should have known the rumours would spread, and how the people in Bodega Bay would react to Gwilym's settling here. Then he shook his head, and looked to you.

"So now you know." Dean said, standing to reach for the bottle he'd poured from earlier in the evening. Your glass had barely been sipped from, but you held it up to be filled further still. Now you knew, indeed. But you were clueless as to what to do about it.

///

The next morning, you'd barely settled behind the desk at the library before Maggie stormed in. She marched up to the counter you and Miss Porter sat quietly behind, and slammed an envelope on the counter.

"I quit." She seethed, breathing hard as she pierced her eyes right into yours. Miss Porter gapped at the girl, and then to you, and when she turned to look to Maggie and ask her to change her mind, the girl was stomping out of the door.

You told your boss you had no idea what the girl's problem was, but realized she'd probably find out eventually, with the way miss Miss Porter sniffed out every detail of peoples lives in this town. So you kept to yourself while you still could, and didn't see anyone you recognized all day.

But you heard everyone talk. You'd heard the talk before. You'd heard his name whispered from housewives and mailmen. But now you understood why, and you discerned what they seemed to say. It made you sick, with worries of all kinds.

So, you agreed to stay late and lock up- only so you might be able to sneak into the attic of the library. There you found collections of misprints, yearbooks and old newspapers. It took until the sunlight started to fade from the dormer window before you found what you were looking for. A paper from the day after the incident, and a few more. All of which spelled Dean's name wrong, and spewed more vile quotes.

All of them seemed to tell the truth, seemed to acknowledge Gwilym's innocents, yet they all blamed him still. For caring too little. For being such a terrible husband. For whatever made them feel better about his wife's tragic loss. You'd read more than enough to be sure of the truth, and maddened by the way it had been turned and used against a man who had done little wrong.

But now, as you kept your eyes wide to see him again, he seemed to have vanished from the town completely

"Why don't they talk about you?" You asked Dean, stepping into his boat one afternoon, after being disappointed to find Gwilym's boat missing from the harbour.

"They misprinted my name in one paper and rolled with it in all the others." He laughed bitterly, rowing home. You recalled that to be the case. You knew Dean wouldn't lie.

"Why don't you talk to him?" You asked more, trying to put the pieces of this puzzle together. A tiny internal voice drove you through this discovery, the same urgent pang that pushed you to pack up and move here.

"I used to. He stopped letting me over. Stopped answering calls." Dean shrugged. You hung your head, and apologized for all the questions. Dean insisted he was glad someone finally cared to ask.

You had all kinds of answers, now. But worried and wondered about Gwilym all week. And then the festival came.

///

It was just like he said it would be. As you stepped into Dean's canoe to head to work, you saw a dozen boats lined up at the berth of the town. And by the time your lunch break came, you spotted two dozen more boats crowding the bay, some sailing, some waiting their turn. By the time you were free to go and see what the fuss was about, Dean waved from the window of the shop as you breezed by. You walked past a tent selling sweets, and another selling drinks, and saw little else besides a mess of people.

"Well look who it is." An unexpectedly familiar voice floated over your shoulder. Jake stood a few paces away, rocking on his feet, looking taller than he ever seemed from behind the desk of your library.

You gave him a pleasant hello, and he said something about how nice it was to finally see you out and about.

"Have you found much adventure, yet?" He wondered. And you weren't sure if he was asking about your time in Bodega Bay, or about the festival that started sometime while you were still clocked in. Either way, when you hesitated, the nice blonde boy extended his hand and insisted you join him.

And you had a fleeting thought, that Jake was only trying to do for you what you'd been trying to do for Gwilym. Reaching out. Giving you a chance. So with a tired grin, you took it.

You followed the blonde boy through the cutting breeze, down a dock and up the steps of a big boat adorned in strings of lights. It was crammed with people in fancy clothes, drinking from dark bottles and twisting to some rock and roll tune.

Jake kept his distance and poured you a couple of drinks. He danced you around a couple of corners, introducing you to people along the way. You shot him a grin each time he gave out your name and drank a little more. The air was cold, but you were warm, crammed between strangers and their friends. The music coming from the boat was loud, but as you shuffled toward the deck, you could hear music in the distance, too, from other boats. Other friends laughter echoing from beyond the bay. And finally, the beauty of the townspeople shone just as brightly as the town itself.

You laughed as Jake spun you lazily around to the beat of a new song. He followed as you kept slipping closer toward the edge of the crowd. He warned you to get down from the railing you leaned too far over when you'd spun far out of the party as possible. You turned and pointed to a couple dancing on the top of the rails, without a care. And because he couldn't argue, and you were a little tipsy, you stood there, too, and let him hold your hand as you balanced along the beams.

You trusted Jake. His intentions were good and his grip was firm. It tightened as you started to lose your step.

///

Gwilym was on his way to take a break from sorting through inventory in the back room. About this time, he liked to sit and watch the birds and sun dip below the sea. He couldn't see that from home. So sometimes he'd stay later, just to watch the sun setting. Sometimes it was the best part of his whole day. So as the festival raged on, he tried to stay out of sight.

But he didn't even get to sit before he noticed. Just around the corner, there was a boat laced with party lights. A bevy of drunken partiers danced across the deck. A man with pale hair and a dopey smile holding the hand of the woman Gwilym hadn't stopped thinking of. Her, standing on the rails. As soon as Gwilym turned and saw, the boy let go, and she was falling in the water.

The boy with pale hair raced from the deck, but Gwilym was faster. Nearer. Close enough to cross onto the boardwalk and reach into the bay before she had drifted far past the surface. It was instinctive, his mission to save her. He wasn't thinking, he was just reaching in and tugging her up, and only after he pulled her onto the deck at his side, did he realize the speed his heart was thrumming and the fear that spread through him.

She let out startled coughs and looked to him with big watery eyes, and he had to ask if she was okay because he didn't know what else to do. But he was quicker to act than he was to think, still, standing and offering her help to do the same. She stretched up slowly, holding his arm without hesitation. He couldn't be sure if she needed or wanted too, but she didn't let go.

Just as Gwilym decidedly turned toward the shop, Dean appeared. He bound toward the boy with pale hair and grabbed him by the shirt collar with fire in his eyes.

"What the ever loving fuck were you thinking?" Dean shouted, nearly lifting the guy off his feet. The boy who'd let her fall tried to stutter a response, but couldn't So Dean let him go, prepared to do worse. But Gwilym called his name, before thinking about it. Dean looked and saw Gwilym letting the girl he'd come to secretly and desperately adore, lean into his side, despite the way she shivered in drenched clothes. Dean seemed to snap out of it, and only cursed at the blonde boy as he stumbled away, back onto the boat without a word.

"Let's go." Gwilym waved Dean along, as the trio headed toward the shop, while the party raged on.

///

In the matter of a second, the laughter and the lights and the music and the fun was muffled. It kept on as your time stalled and became murky and cold and wet; and then it was louder than ever.

People stood and gasped along the marina as the water splashed around you. Gwilym's grip hurt but it was much more tolerable than the chill of the water and the way your lungs burned with the ache to breathe. How long were you down there?

Mr. Lee threw you toward the docks and stood you up, and looked to you as you looked to him, for the first time in months. For the first time ever, it felt like. But his icy eyes tore away at the sight of the commotion.

Dean was there. He was red with anger, and the boy who'd tried but failed to stop you from falling, seemed like a spec in your friends grasp. Gwilym was the one to save him too, telling Dean to go. You'd barely registered any of this happening until Dean spun back around to face you on his way in the shop, and Jake had left you without a goodbye.

"Are you okay? I mean, are you-" Dean worried, holding open the door to the shop. He flipped the open sign to closed, like it mattered. As you entered the store stocked with fishing gear and boat parts, Gwilym slipped out of your grasp and left you colder than ever.

"I'm fine. I think." You grinned. "Yes. Thank you, Dean." You nodded his way, feeling more embarrassed than anything as you recalled the expressions on onlookers faces a moment ago. You knew everyone saw, but you worried over what they must've thought.

It was Dean's sweeping scowl that started everyone chattering again, as you'd walked off. They looked away from you as your friend led you closer to the dock shop, where Gwilym had now found a towel and something else you didn't know you needed. He watched Dean lead you toward the counter with eye's bluer than the autumn sky.

"A first aid kit? I'm fine, I-" But then you followed Dean's pitiful gaze by raising a hand to your head. You felt nothing but a chill on your fingertips. When you pulled them away, they were sticky and red.

"Oh, I see."

Gwilym ordered Dean to go around back and search for a sweater, or something you might be able to change into. You went where Mr. Lee pointed you toward, settling against the front counter. He handed you a towel, and you draped it over your shoulders, willing yourself to stop shivering.

Then, the stoic Englishman rose a cloth to your head, and watched where he cared for, while you watched him. He was close enough for you to recognise he smelled of something sweeter than pine, and was taller than you realized. His jaw was peppered with stubble and his eyes were a never ending shade of blue you wished you could look right into, but he wouldn't let you. He stayed focused on his work, and informed you only had a small cut.

"I need a lift home." You spoke in a hush, keeping your gaze fixed on his own best you were able.

"Dean will take you." Gwilym mumbled back, so close you could nearly feel the rumble of his voice.

"What if I want you to take me?" You countered with a childish pout, still tipsy and shaken.

"I can't." He spoke firmly, taking the smallest step to your side to close up the first aid kit. You watched, tightening the towel around you and wondering what kind of mess you must'a looked like.

"Why?" You wondered, hopelessly. Your question was loaded, and heavy, and it made Mr. Lee clench his sharp jaw.

"You know why." He responded, grimly. Gwilym took the first aid kit and started away from you as your chest filled up in a way you thought felt just like drowning. Your throat was too tight to call out and stop him from leaving it at that- to stop him from leaving you. So he kept on walking, slipping around the back just as Dean appeared with a set of men's clothes, offering them to you with a small sorry shrug.

You decidedly took the sweater and ducked behind the counter to slip it on, while Dean stood guard. You looked to him once you finished, and were disappointed to find Mr. Lee had not come back. So you took Dean's hand and let him take you home.

He had to row in a strange path, away from other boats, so it took you twice as long to get to the island. And the only conversation you shared on the ride was when Dean kept asking if you were okay and you kept shutting him down; because you couldn't say yes or no without the threat of tears stinging your eyes.

You let Dean walk you to your door, and thanked him for it with the last exhausted breath you could muster. And when you were on your own, you let your heart hurt and you let yourself cry. Then you decided Gwilym must have actually liked being so alone. You decided to leave him be, and stop from searching him out. And while you made yourself promise to keep your distance, you hoped that he'd miss your interactions enough to show up and ask why they'd stopped.

///

You couldn't figure who was more selfish. Him, for retaining such isolation, for having little decency to let you down easy and slipping into the shadows at the sight of you. Or you, for stooping to his level. If he was so keen on keeping a distance, you decided for once, to make it easy.

You decided to try and forget the way he plunged his hand into the freezing waters to yank you to the surface before you knew what hit you. And the warmth that radiated from him, as he let you lean in, despite everything.

You pretended not to care about Gwilym Lee, and went about your weekend as usual. And as you went from work, and ignored Dean's worries over whether you were doing alright, you saw Mr. Lee three times.

Once, on your way from the harbour to your job. Gwilym was out, watching a big boat sail in. And you wouldn't let yourself search for his gaze. You waited until you were a speck in the horizon before you turned to see if he'd noticed or cared. But all you saw was Dean racing to catch up with you, and extending the jacket you'd left in his boat in your rush to storm away.

The next time you saw Gwilym was from the safety of your front porch, as you swept away fallen leaves from the steps. He'd ventured out to his own front lawn that was a mess after the night-long storm, and noticed you already done with your chore. Before you caved and met his eye, you spun inside and shut the door, searching to see if he noticed or cared before you let it shut all the way. Then you scurried off to work with all the reluctance of a school kid.

Your time used to be pleasantly occupied during shifts at the library. But now each day you dreaded stepping foot near there. Miss Porter stopped sharing gossip with you on lunch break. She was probably too busy talking about you. Jake had stopped showing up, and your job of taping labels and arranging shelves seemed like your own personal purgatory.

Dean tried to get you to join him on nights at his favourite grotty pub and afternoon rides around the bay. But you were too much occupied by worry and doubt to entertain your friends free time. So you only let him row you home and kept swearing you'd agree to some fun next time he asked. Dean let you trail away toward home as he accepted a pair of friends into his ride, and you didn't need to look back to know his pitiful gaze was still set on you.

///

She looked back. She kept looking back, and that's when Gwilym realized he'd made a horrible mistake... perhaps the worst he'd ever made.

///

You saw him a third time on your trek home, that afternoon. He seemed to be headed toward the place he'd always hidden his boat away in, but he stopped when he saw you, and his sea blue eyes searched for yours. You tightened your sweater around your frame and prepared to breeze past him, hoping you didn't look like you wanted to burst into tears.

"Y/n, please wait," Gwilym spoke up, his usual low, calm tone now broken and weary.

You didn't wait. You wanted too, but suddenly all the rage and sadness you felt flooded your system and made your feet stomp harder up the steps to your house.

"Please," Gwilym said again, turning to follow close behind.

"Can't we talk?" He seemed to beg. You jostled open your front door with your heart drumming in your ears as you registered the sound of his following along.

"You want to talk?" You laughed without an ounce of humour, spinning to face Gwilym as you backed into your home. He followed timidly like if he made one floorboard creek it would spin loose and he'd slip through the crack.

"Yes." He seemed to decide, stalling just past the still opened door.

"I'm sure you only mean that you want me to talk to you." You pointed, tossing your handbag toward an empty chair. "Because God knows you've never had much to say to me. Not even of the weather let alone where you came from." You were nearly shouting, waving a hand as you looked toward the man you'd always longed to know.

"No, I've had to hear about you from everyone else! " You rang, and almost regretted it. You watched him start to crumble, standing still in place all the while. But once you'd started there was no point in stopping. "And I've spent all summer desperate to learn more, but not from them."

"I- I didn't want you to..." Gwilym struggled to explain in a stuttered breath, holding his hands up for you to see.

"What? Didn't want me to find out?" You asked, "Well I did, but all I've ever wanted was to hear it from you." You shouted, hardly caring to stop the tears burning your eyes. You'd read the articles, the tabloids, and the bullshit from warped celebrity minds. But even before then, you'd been drawn to Mr. Lee. You'd seen the good in him.

"I've always been on your side." You said. "Even when you treat me like one of them. Like I don't give a shit about you. Well, I do!"

You watched his brow furrow and his eyes dart between yours. You watched him try and understand, and you couldn't hold back your frustrated tears any longer. And maybe you felt like you hadn't made yourself clear enough, or maybe you were only listening to that little voice in your head, either way, you threw yourself toward Gwilym and wrapped him in a hug.

It took him a beat to hug you back, but he did. And he held on as you tried to stop from crying, and appreciate this rare and surprising moment.

"I'm sorry." You heard him mumbled into your hair, as his comforting grip tightened ever so slightly. You couldn't help but laugh as you relished the feeling of his strong figure finally accepting you in. Then, with every way you could mean it, you assured he had nothing at all to be sorry for.

///

It took a while. A week, actually. But Gwilym eventually told you everything.

The day he followed you in your doorway, he stayed for a bit. You apologized for bursting into tears and he smiled when you looked at him and laughed about it. And then you showed him round your aunts dusty old home. You told him just how you'd come to live here, and you convinced him to stay for dinner.

While you ate, he spoke of England. He recalled growing up there, the differences between worlds, and what he missed most about the place. But before conversation could go on flourishing, the sun set and you both retired to prepare for another days work.

The next morning you cancled the plans with Dean you'd made to go to the pub. And when you told him why, he nearly toppled his canoe over by all his excitement. You had to make him sit back down and promise you'd keep him updated on your mission to be a friend to Gwil. Even though everyone involved knew, on some level, that you were keen to be a little more than friends.

But you shoved thoughts like those deep down. Now was no time to seduce the man. Now was the time to listen to him, and hope to high heavens he wanted the same thing as you.

And that night, as you made it to the island and parted ways with your friend, you found Gwilym waiting up for you just outside your home. You could have burst into another bout of tears at the notion, but you'd already made a big enough fool out of yourself once. So you rushed to invite the man in. But he stopped your stammering and asked you over to his place, instead.

His home was much grander on the inside than the simple outside made it seem. The ceilings were high and there were shelves along most of the walls, all jam packed with books and a few potted plants. As if the forest he seemed to raise outback weren't enough. There were bushes and vines and flowers of all kinds, bright in the cold blue evening.

So you sat inside and shared a drink. After mindless chatter, you started in on a conversation that led to you learning a little more about the woman he'd once been married to. He spoke of when they met and whence they moved, and why. He spoke a little of his dream of acting and how it fizzled out early on for several reasons. He spoke of Hollywood and how he blamed the city for souring everything. And then the night fell and you knew it was best to leave while you were ahead.

"I'd love to come back around when your garden is in full bloom." You invited yourself over again, reluctantly trudging toward the door. Gwilym followed along a safe distance away with his hands in his pockets.

"You're welcome back round anytime." Gwilym noted, his words packed with meaning. You tried not to melt at his invitation, the first you'd ever received. You only hoped it wouldn't be the last, and tried to hold back your gleefully nervous chuckles.

"Well good." You decided, reaching for the door. "Because I'll certainly find every excuse to stop over."

You would have kissed him then, if he were only a little closer. If you'd had a little more to drink, you would have had enough courage to crash your lips against. But you didn't. You simply let your smile linger as you struggled to tear your gaze from his. Gwilym shook his head at your staring and reached past you to open the door, keeping his pretty gaze settled on yours all the while.

So you headed for home, but made sure to look over your shoulder before you'd gone too far.

///

He'd asked her over. He was terrified as ever, maybe his fears had even shifted or tripled. But he asked her over anyway. And when she followed along with a smile, he realized there wasn't too much to be afraid of.

Still, Gwilym kept as much to himself as he could without seeming rude or uninterested. He lingered a safe distance behind as he showed her around the place he'd called home all year. She marvelled over how neat the shelves were and how lovely the old furniture was, and waved him off when he remarked how he didn't pick any of it out but had grown fond of the space all the same. And then he followed her out into the garden, where she spun between the vines. Gwilym notices the moon, as he followed it's pale light, and thought it was nowhere near as beautiful compared to the glow coming from the woman smiling up at him.

But then he was scared again... of what might happen now. Gwilym hadn't thought of the future all year. But there was nothing else to think of when she was around. He wondered where life would lead her, and he hoped, selfishly, that he'd get to follow along.

He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to close the distance between them and hold her closer than he had when she threw herself in his arms a day before...

He didn't, though. But when she skipped toward home she looked back to him and smiled, and he decided one day, he would.

///

It was two more days before you Gwil him again. Dean seemed to understand when you left him alone on the harbour, yet you still turned and apologized and swore you'd call him round for game night by the weekend. He just laughed and pushed you along, and you hurried to catch Gwilym before he'd sailed off.

You were right on time, just like the first time. He helped you aboard, same as before, with the same strong hand he used to pull you from these very waters. You joked about it, only recalling the incident like how you remembered a varied few dreams.

"So you only liked me because I saved you from drowning," Gwilym noted, letting his boat drift toward where the sky and the sea blended.

"No, I liked you plenty before." You admitted in an embarrassed chuckle. Here you were, in the middle of the bay with the most handsome man you'd ever met. And here he was with you, and you were more nervous than the first day of this kind. The excited kind of nervous. The kind you felt before settling in a roller coaster or seeing a film you'd waited a long time to catch. This was what you'd wanted, to be here with him. But what was next, you worried?

As you talked about what led you here, and how you'd trusted your gut to start over again, Gwilym listened. And then, after a few careful questions, he told you what happened. He told you about the life he lived just before moving to Bodega Bay.

He spoke of his wife like someone he'd read about once. Like his connection to her was something he'd only ever heard of and never felt. But he was kind in his descriptors and he even chuckled when he recounted how happy they were for a moment. But only a moment, he said.

Then Gwilym told you much of what Dean already had. How she'd started going out, and treating him poorly for worrying over her whereabouts. How one night Gwilym went to a party he knew she'd be the life of, and found her there canoodling with some famous director. How Mrs. Lee blamed Gwilym for embarrassing her. How he'd missed her long before she was gone for good.

Then he recounted what happened the night his wife and her sister came home from a long weekend away. How scared he'd been when he couldn't reach her. How poorly she'd made him feel for being upset by it all. How she kicked her sister out of the guest room, where she'd already retired to spin records and light candles. His wife scratched the record to a stop and slammed the door in Gwilyms face as he begged her to come to some kind of resolution. He said she'd answered his pleas through the door with muffled curses and clatters, like she was tossing things about in her drunken ire.

Gwilym recalled how it went quiet, for too long. And how he couldn't open the door when he started to try. How he broke the handle when black smoke started billowing into the hall, and she wasn't answering when he called her name. How right as he planned to bust the door down flames curled from the crack near the floor and started to spread, chasing him away.

Gwilym said he scooped up his sister in law from the sofa and tossed her toward the staircase that led to freedom. He said that he didn't even see Dean there. Gwilym only realized his friend had shown up when he reached out and stopped him from turning back to the apartment. Gwilym knew his wife was gone, and his attempts weren't worth it, but he said he still felt like he had to try.

///

He'd never rambled for it for so long, not even to himself or the rose bushes. By the end of his tale, when there might have been a little left to say, but everything had already become clear, he caught a glimpse of her face and the way she sat listening. There was little pity in her gaze, and no judgement. There was something he'd never seen before... and it warmed him. He didn't feel small under her watchful eye. He felt heard and a little lighter for having spoken the things he never really dared to before.

"Why here?" She asked, never daring to look away from him.

"Dean offered. Gave me another place to stay. And a job.  And I just couldn't go back to my family... I can't."

"Why?" Her simple question made him smile despite the ache in his heart.

"I'm afraid of what they might think. If I might not be able to change their minds. And then I really wouldn't have anyone." Gwilym stated simply.  "It's like as long as I keep them at a distance they won't change. I know that's grotesquely selfish." He shook his head, keeping his grin of disbelief.  

"Gwilym," She said, once he'd finally looked to her once more. "You have me." She reached out for his hand. And he held her gaze. He might never come to understand her kindness. But he'd be a fool by failing to accept it any longer.

Gwilym thought things would never change. That his past would always hang heavily and shade his future. And maybe that was true. But for the first time instead of accepting so, he took the chance of letting her in on his greatest fears.

Perhaps it was better to have someone brilliant to be certain of, amidst the unchanging darkness. And perhaps he could never repay her with any of the flickering beams of hope and laughter she pulled from him. The good she saw that was left of Gwilym had been polished, and he wasn't sure it would ever be enough. But he had to try and make it more than so.

So that night, when the wind grew too cold without the sun warming their time on the water, he let her come back to his place, like he promised. He made dinner and listened to the stories she told between butting in to help him cook. He let himself become lost in thoughts of her as his gaze lingered when she wasn't looking.

And after they ate, she fell asleep on his sofa while he cleaned everything up. But instead of pacing through the kitchen like he did when he couldn't sleep; he sat back at the table, glanced to the woman dreaming in his parlour, and pulled out a pen and paper.

///

You'd never been more glad to live in Bodega Bay. Gwilym let you breeze in whenever you pleased, and some days he'd even surprised you by stopping over your place with drinks.

You'd started bringing Dean along, and roping the two men into playing poker and staying up late to watch specials on the telly. Gwilym always sat nearest to you, and shared looks that lasted a little too long and laughs over things you knew Dean missed the joke on. But your friend seemed just as happy to be apart. To be with the two of you. He'd even started sharing chats with Gwilym while you insisted on making lunch. You caught glimpses of the two of them in Gwil's garden, in the midst of some sort of serious talks. And you'd never been happier to see such stoic faces chatting away. It was what the both of them needed.

Gwilym wouldn't go out with the two of you though. He apologized for shooting down the invite so quickly, but you assured him not to worry. You figured he'd say no. But you still couldn't help but to extend the offer.

The next time you managed for a night out and about, though, you came to understand Gwilym's reasons for staying in better than ever.

Jake was there-  with a group of his friends in the farthest corner of the pub you and Dean liked to go to. He noticed you, and started to move reluctantly across the place, like he was being forced to approach you. You shot Dean one stern look, warning him to let you deal with this on your own. Your friend grumbled in agreeance as he turned to go find a table for the pair of you, keeping a sidelong glance on the blonde boy who'd come to face you.

"I'm sorry for what happened, and the fact it took me till now to say so." Jake seemed genuine in his speak, though his body language suggested otherwise. His feet were pointed away, prepared to rush off, it seemed.

"It's okay, really. You warned me, and you tried to hold on." You shrugged, recalling the night Jake tried to stop you from climbing the railing you fell from. It was a scary thing, but it was all over now. You'd started to walk away, but your pale haired friend stopped you from going just yet.

"Listen, I-I know you moved here looking for some kind of fun, or whatever," Jake stuttered as you'd spun to face him once more. "But is hanging around the resident killer really how you get your kicks? People are talking about you, and they don't have a lot of good to say." Jake rubbed the back of his neck as you gaped at him.

"If this is you keeping my best interest in mind, you're doing a shitty job of it." You rang, watching Jake look around to the few people you stood near.

"it's just, he's not-"

"Gwilym is a better man than you'll ever be." You pointed, before turning to leave the kid behind. Maybe you'd spoken a little too loudly, because as you headed to find Dean, you saw the eyes of nearly every patron turned your way. But they weren't just stunned by your outburst. They were chattering with each other as you walked by. Gossiping about more than the way Gwilym's name passed from your lips in defence, but how they'd seen you with him before.

You smiled, despite it all, and were practically reduced to laughter by the time you reached Dean. Your heart ached at the thought of Gwilym having to endure such disdain every time he left his home. But you were glad to be on the receiving end. Maybe the sound of his name proudly rolling from your lips would change their minds... eventually. Maybe it wouldn't. But you were proud, and you hoped defending Gwilym made everyone who never had curdle with remorse.

///

The holidays were approaching and the cold seemed unexpectedly bitter so near the water. Still, you went about your day as ever, chatting with Dean on rides, working away, spending your earnings to keep the lights on and the rest on records and expensive wine to share with your friends. You only had two, but they drained your alcohol as quickly as a family of five. Still, you couldn't have been happier.

You don't tell Gwilym about all the time's ladies at the market call you a dirty sinner for spending your free time with him. You only smiled at them and warned their hatred would send them to hell surer than Mr. Lee would be banished there.

You found old misplaced books in the library's attic when you wander up to sort it out on the slow days. And you'd bring them to Gwil, because he'd told you all the many books lining his shelves had been read and read again.

You even scored a free new hardback, when the printing company shipped out a book with the title misspelled. You toted the new story all the way home, and hugged Dean goodbye at the base of the island. He was headed to his cousins family home for Thanksgiving, and you missed him the moment he rowed away.

But you weren't alone. You had Gwilym. He'd started leaving his door unlocked, so you could burst in whenever you pleased, and you did on many occasions, but always with good reason. To catch a film on the telly, or share some of the better desserts you'd learned to make from scratch.

Now, you rested the new book on his bare coffee table, and flung yourself to his golden sofa, where you started complaining about your day before he'd even found his way into the room to greet you.

When Gwilym appeared in the archway of the parlour, you were unusually caught off guard by his appearance. There was a beard starting to decorate his sharp jaw, and the first few buttons of the white shirt he wore were undone.

"Can I read something to you?" He asked, in such a rush that you hoped his sudden question would be reason enough for your stunned silence, and he hadn't caught you ogling him.

"Of course." You nodded, noticing the piece of folded paper in his hand. You shook yourself out of your staring but watched as he moved into the room, decidedly resting near the coffee table at your feet. Gwilym unfolded the paper and looked up to you before he started to read. Though you had no idea what was going on, you gave him a sure nod and leaned ever closer to listen.

"So," He looked from the paper to you again. "A while ago I decided to write this letter. To my family. And, well, okay..."

Gwilym stammered, and then dove straight into reading from the paper in his grasp. You watched his pretty blue eyes scan the page, and listened as he read the note that started with his apology for going so long without reaching out to them before. Gwilym's letter was short. It was filled with a simple wish that his family was doing well, and that he might see them again one day. When he finished, he looked up to you like he was looking for approval.

"I think..." He said, leaving the paper to rest on top of the book you'd brought for him. "I think I want to send it to them." Gwilym searched your face as you straightened in place and smiled.

"Gwil, that's great news!" You chirped. "There's a post box right outside the library. I could take it-"

"No." He said, loud and sure. Your grin faltered as Gwilym shook his head, and spoke up again.

"I want to take it." He said. "But I would like if you came along."

You could have squealed, or did a little dance. You could have opened the door and declared to the whole island that you'd never been happier. But instead, you lunged from your perch on the sofa and kissed Gwilym. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your lips to his, and struggled to hold back a contented sigh when he started kissing you back. His fingers pressed against your shoulder blades, holding you close as you kept your lips to his as long as you could hold your breath.

When you finally broke away, you looked in his brilliant blue eyes, and waited for him to say something.

"So, you think it's a good idea?" Gwilym asked. And past your rapid heartbeat, you managed a laugh. Despite your sweaty palms, you settled on your knees before the man, with both of your hands on his broad shoulders.

"I know it is." You nodded, searching his face, all its angles and beauty. Then it was decided you'd deliver it the very next morning, as he stood to his feet and held out a hand to help you do the same. Gwilym collected his letter, and you recalled the book you'd brought for him, reaching for it with a gasp of remembrance and holding it out for him to take.

And later, after you insisted on making dinner, you asked him to crack open the pages and read a little to tell if the plot was of any interest.

With the book in hand, Gwilym settled on the sofa at your side, and muttered through the first few sentences- like he would when you asked about the many books already in his collection. "Better to let them speak for themselves," He'd say.

But now, he kept just reading on, turning page after page by the soft lamp light. So you listened, and rested your head on his shoulder as he told the tale, not missing a beat as you leaned into his side. You felt the resonance of his voice as he spoke, and relished the warmth of the sweater he'd changed into. You recalled the feeling of his lips moving against yours, and hope this was the first of many nights like this one.

///

He'd never been happier, it was certain. But the fact still boggled him. He'd been to places he'd always dreamed- and indulged in outrageous fun with people he'd cared for on days with perfect weather. But here, now, in the middle of his darkest hour, she made him the happiest he'd ever been.

And she didn't even have to kiss him to make it so. That was just a nice surprise. Something he'd been too nervous to make happen himself. So when she made the move, he kissed her back with all the care he'd been saving up, and hoped it wasn't too long until the next time.

She remained close to his side the next day, when he set off to town with a letter in his hand. And when he slid it into the post box, all he felt was the urgent pang to turn and look at her, and ask what she fancied doing the rest of the day. He was stupidly head over heels for the woman, and the way he'd come to recognize the smile on her face. The way he knew she wanted nothing more than to parade around town at his side, yet shrugged and suggested heading home and listening to some of the records she'd bought the weekend before.

The way she'd let herself into his home, and start yammering on about her day no matter if he was in the room or not. How she'd bustle about his kitchen and take the food over to her place for a last minute change of scenery. How she'd make him go out into his garden at least three times a week and insist he ramble to her about the growth of the plants he'd taken to caring for.

How when she was away, he knew she'd be back. How he didn't have to worry.

When Christmas was drawing near, their connection had become familiar, but unchanged. She hadn't kissed him since the first time, and every time he thought of making a move he'd talk himself out of being so bold. But he let her hold onto his arm when she waited up for a ride across the bay. And he let her curl into his side when they watched specials on the telly. He draped his arm around her then, and lost himself in the comfort of closeness, and tried not to worry if it would last. He knew he was lucky to be on the receiving end of anything so special at all, these days. He didn't dare push his luck.

But he let her fall asleep there, against his shoulder. And instead of laying her against the cushions, or waking her to send home, he happily fell asleep too.

///

"It's Christmas! Please open up!"

The pounding at the door sprung you from slumber, and you hardly cared how you must have looked in your fluster to answer the door.

Dean was bundled up in layers with a stack of presents in hand. You could see his breath as he cursed you for taking so long to answer, just before wishing you a very Merry Christmas. Then you rushed through Gwilym's home to find a mirror and a moment to fix yourself up. Had you really fallen asleep next to the guy? You'd been forced into consciousness so quickly that you didn't get to relish waking at his side. It was a bit of a good thing, you decided, as you'd been graced with a little time to straighten your wrinkled sweater and pin your hair back into place before you saw Gwilym again.

Out of all the Christmas mornings you'd enjoyed, this one was already the best. Gwilym's home was cozy, and the tree you'd encouraged him to trim was so quaint near the window, masking the cold on the other side with bright red bulbs shining from every branch.

Dean was shuffling about the tree, scattering the presents he'd brought along and complaining about his most recent family gathering and how it'd ended in a political debate no one won. You floated back to Gwil's sofa, a space you'd taken quite a liking too in recent months. He wasn't there, where you'd left him, but instead taking cautious steps through the archway you'd only just breezed through. in his grasp, two cups of cocoa to match the third and final mug already rested on the coffee table, between stacks of books.

When Gwilym abandoned the drinks, he fell onto the sofa at your side, and it might have seemed as though you'd never left your places from the night before. You found yourself tucked right under the arm he kept over the back of the sofa; as you both watched Dean toss the last of his presents under the tree with a share snicker. When Dean turned to curse the pair of you for laughing at him on Christmas, he stopped mid reprimand and said,

"Oh so it's like that now, is it?" The boy whose dark hair was still masked under a knitted cap gestured between the two of you.

"Always was, wasn't it?" Gwilym was quick to respond, as Dean shrugged and reached to turn the telly to a Christmas programme.

No sooner than Gwilym spoke did you tear yourself from his side to reach for the presents you'd wrapped a month earlier. You placed your gifts in front of the men you'd come to adore more than you knew was possible. And they traded their own with you. Between boxes of ties and cookbooks, and records, and gift cards, you couldn't imagine life could get better than this. Yet you still hoped it couldn't get any worse. And that days in such company wouldn't end, even when there were no gifts or secrets left to trade.

///

By boxing day, you'd had a chance to clean yourself up and sort away the gifts from your friends. You'd properly stored away the desserts Gwilym sent you home with, and had nothing better to do by mid afternoon than to return his freshly cleaned kitchenware.

When you reached Gwilyms door, you collected the mail from the box he always forgot to check and breezed in with the announcement that you were delivering all sorts of things to the kitchen. You let the mail fall to the table as you went about sorting pans into the cupboards you knew they belonged in.

Gwilym sauntered in, totally unphased by your presence, trading a simple hello. When you turned from sorting away dishes, he'd moved across the kitchen and startled you by being so suddenly close. Before you could ask why, you noticed. There was an envelope in his hand and a look in his eye that reminded you of the look he wore when you met.

"They wrote back." He spoke, keeping his bright eyes fixed on yours. Had he expected radio silence from his family? Or was he worried to open the letter to heartbreak? Either way, there their response was, between his long fingers. You gave him a nod, encouraging him in whatever his next move was, silently hoping he'd tear the seal. Another beat past before he leaned back against the counter and opened the envelope.

You stood a few paces away, wringing your hands as Gwilym unfolded a letter in silence. You watched him tuck a lip between his teeth as his eyes scanned the page.

"They say it's nice to hear from me." He sort of mumbled like he was reading from one of those storybooks of his. "And that they miss me."

"They say... they want me to come home." Gwilym's voice subtly cracked, as he rose a hand to run a set of fingers across his beard. You watched as he grinned, and turned his eyes to you.

"Well?" You asked in a quiet breath. "Are you gonna go?" You didn't want to ask, though. Because as much as you wanted nothing more than for Gwilym to be happy, really happy... you'd miss him.

Gwilym considered your question and seemed to watch you think. You held your breath as if that would stall your thoughts and hoped he couldn't hear how heavily your heartbeat. Gwilym seemed to decide something, moving his head as he reached to leave the letter on the countertop behind him. He pressed the heels of his hands against the space, and looked right at you with a question of his own.

"Would you come with me?"

"You want me to come with you?" You asked through a stunned chuckled, wondering if he could have at all been kidding. Wondering what the catch was. Gwilym watched you trying to understand, and pushed himself from the counter. He closed the space between the two of you by raising both of his strong hands, and holding your face in his gentle touch.

He seemed to search for the right words but he settled instead for a nod as his eyes peered into yours.

And you knew better than to say no. When had life opened up such a grand opportunity? The last time that happened, chances lead you right to Gwil. The simple thought of taking another step through life side by side was enough to send your heart into a frenzy. Your boggled mind swept away all logical thought, so all you could do was nod along, and smile like an idiot.

Then Gwilym kissed you. He wrapped his arms around you so tight you couldn't budge even if you wanted too. But there was no place else you could imagine being. He kissed you into a dizzy trance. You couldn't even be sure if you were kissing him back with the proper gusto, you just held on and hoped he was alright with the fact you didn't plan on ever letting go.

///

It took a while. A few more months before you and Gwilym even began to discuss making it official. By then, you’d gotten through almost all of the hard talks. And once the cold started to leave, it was decided the pair of you would too.

"Is that everything?" Dean wondered, still sporting that silly, ill-fitting knit cap though spring had started to blossom

"Hm, should I throw out a couple of sweaters and make room for you?" You asked the guy, passing your luggage to Gwilym who took your last bag to the boat waiting at the base of the island.

"Someone's gotta be here to give you a lift, when you get back." Dean wagged a finger, pushing you toward his trusty old ride and worrying that you'd miss your flight. He worried all the way across the bay, actually; if you'd packed enough and left a key in the right spot, so he could come and manage Gwil's garden. Dean demanded one of you phone when you got to where you were going, and helped you carry your bags onto the boardwalk. Dean even waited with you as Gwilym went into the shop to call a cab.

You said the last of your goodbyes to the friend you'd come to know, confident your connection was one that would never die. Dean pulled you into a constricting hug when Gwilym came back. And after a while, you whispered a small thanks into Dean's ear. He'd been the best kind of friend you had ever known.

"Help him write one of those letters to me, too, okay?" Dean nodded toward Gwilym, as he pulled away from your embrace. You gave a mock salute and let your heart melt a little when the two men shared their own goodbye.

Your friend turned around the boardwalk to wave every few feet, as he trailed off to the shop. You waved back every time, and Gwilym laughed, keeping one hand firmly curled into your side.

"You sure about this?" He asked, in that delightful accent of his, as his gaze swept across the town. A cab was sputtering closer from the highway. You responded by reaching for his hand, and drawing his knuckles close enough to kiss. Even though you'd come far enough to hold his hand and share midnights together, reassurance was never neglected. And you still had lots more to share, anyway. More to talk about. More to see. More life to live, and figure out with Gwilym.

He gave your hand a squeeze before his grasp slipped away at the appearance of your ride. The driver shuffled out of the car to help Gwilym toss your bags into the boot.

"Where too?" The driver asked before settling back behind the wheel.

"The airport." Gwilym grinned, opening the back door for you, and following as you slid to settle and enjoy the ride.

"Home." You corrected, with a nod toward the man you'd come to adore. He responded by lacing his fingers through yours once more and placing a kiss on the back of your hand, his eyes staying glued to yours all the while, bluer that the waters you'd once fallen into.

Moving here was probably the best thing you ever did. But leaving was already better.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

[myveryownfanfiction]

Chapter 3

I smiled as I looked at Robert. He looked so hopeful and I realized I was quickly falling for him. 

“Yes you get a second date.” I said softly. Robert grinned as he lifted my hand closer to his face. He gently kissed my knuckles before pulling me close and into a tight hug. I grinned madly as I hugged him back. 

“I had so much fun tonight.” Robert whispered. “More fun than I’ve had in awhile. Thank you.” I sighed happily as I relaxed more into the hug. Robert pulled away slowly before smiling at me. “How’s tomorrow after work?” I nodded and laughed. 

“As long as you don’t ask me to leave early again.” I teased. Robert smirked and took a step forward, blocking me between him and my car. His hand rested on the car door. 

“Take tomorrow off.” Robert’s voice dropped. My eyes widened. 

“Are you serious?” I gasped. Robert nodded as he took another step towards me. 

“I’ll pay your salary.” He reached up and cupped my cheek. I leaned into his touch slightly and bit my lip. “No wait that makes it sound illegal.” He chuckled. I nodded as he started to rub my cheekbone gently. “I’ll buy whatever you want. Even if it goes over what I pay you to work here.” I reached out and put my arms around Robert’s waist. His eyebrow raised. 

“You’re really serious about this.” I said with conviction. Robert nodded. “Ok then. I’ll take tomorrow off.” I smiled as Robert reached up to brush some hair back. 

“I’ll text you where to meet me.” He said before leaning in to kiss my cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow (Y/N).” Robert pulled back and walked over to his car before backing up and tearing out of the parking lot. I sloughed against my car, grabbing the car door to keep myself from falling to the ground. When I had finally collected myself, I got in my car and drove home. I got ready for bed before plugging in my phone and smiling at the thought of seeing Robert again tomorrow. I decided to text him before going to bed. 

‘I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.’ I hit send and settled into bed. I watched as the little dots appeared before being replaced by his message. 

‘I can’t wait either.’ I smiled before typing out my response. 

‘Anything in particular I should wear?’ I put my phone on my nightstand before turning out the light and settling back down. I reached for my phone as Robert’s text came through.

‘Just dress like you would if you were going to the mall.’ I started to type out my next message when Robert sent another. ‘You might want to bring a bathing suit. I managed to get an agreement with the soon to be ex Mrs. California to have the house for the weekend.’ I giggled at the eye roll emoji he used before adding to my original message. 

‘Sounds like a plan. I know just what I’m going to wear. Wait...you have a pool?’ After sending the message I opened my notes and wrote down what I would need to take to Robert’s as I no longer knew what to expect. I also set my alarm for a little later as I did not need to go into work. 

‘Yes I do. Well did.’ I smiled as I imagined Robert’s reaction to my text. ‘You better get some rest (Y/N). I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Good night x’ 

‘Good night Robert x’ I sent before putting my phone back down and settling in for the night. I drifted off with a smile on my face. I woke up to my phone ringing. Blinking at the bright light, I groaned at the time before answering it. 

“Hello?” I asked groggily. I rubbed my eyes before flopping on my back. 

“(Y/N)? Where are you?” Jim asked. I sighed as I looked at the time again. 

“Robert gave me the day off. I was sleeping.” I groaned. I heard Jim chuckle. This wasn’t the first time he had woken me up on one of my days off. “Please tell me that you don’t need me to come in.” I heard murmuring on the other end.

“No. You don’t need to come in. I think we all know why Robert wanted to give you the day off.” Jim sighed. “Andy was just a little concerned. We figured that since the warehouse crew quit…” I cut off Jim. 

“Wait what do you mean the warehouse crew quit?” I asked, shocked. “Why did they do that?” I sat up quickly. 

“They won the lotto.” I heard Pam answer. “You’re on speaker by the way.” I rolled my eyes at the obvious. 

“No I didn’t quit. I have a reason I’m not there and no it isn’t what you think Jim.” I explained. I heard a couple chuckles on the other end. 

“It’s ok (Y/N). You can tell us.” Meredith’s voice carried over the line. I rubbed my forehead, urging the oncoming headache to stop before it started. “We won’t tell anyone.” There were groans of protest from everyone before Meredith walked off in a huff. 

“So what’s it come to? What did they each win?” I asked as I layed back again. 

“Oh man, it’s gotta be over a hundred thousand dollars.” Jim said. 

“Awesome.” Pam and I said at the same time. 

“Before taxes.” Dwight informed us. 

“That’s still a lot of money.” Phyllis reminded everyone. 

“What really interests me is the group dynamic of six people winning the lottery.” Oscar said. “This will not end well. Right?” 

“Yeah.” Everyone agreed with him. 

“We’re looking at at least one suicide and one weird sex thing.” Meredith chimed back in. 

“At least.” I said. “Well before everyone starts fantasizing about what they would do with that much money, I’m going to try to get some more sleep before starting my day. I’ll see you all tomorrow.” I hung up my phone and checked the time again. Realizing my alarm would go off soon anyway I turned it off and got out of bed. I sent a quick text to Robert before jumping in the shower. I went as fast as I could and walked back into my bedroom wearing only a towel. I checked my phone and smiled at Robert’s text. 

‘Morning sweetheart. I can’t wait to see you later today.’ I wrote down the address he sent in a separate text before replying. 

‘I can’t wait either. Although are you sure that you don’t have to deal with the warehouse crew quitting?’ While I waited for his response, I pulled out my bathing suit to pack for later. I looked through my closet for the perfect outfit to wear. Nothing seemed to catch my attention until I reached the black ripped skinny jeans in the back of my closet. I smiled as I pulled them out and looked for a shirt to go with them. A text distracted me from my pursuit. 

‘What do you mean the warehouse crew quit?’ I rolled my eyes. Of course everyone at the office would keep it to themselves about the little set back. 

‘Jim called me this morning to see if I was a part of the group that won the lottery yesterday. Apparently the warehouse crew won and decided they didn’t need to work at Dunder Mifflin anymore.’ I quickly filled him in before going back to my search for the perfect shirt. I found it and pulled it out. I was halfway through getting ready when Robert texted me again. 

‘There. Andy is in charge of it. Problem solved.’ I laughed and decided to call him. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” His voice drifted over my speaker as I finished getting ready. 

“You kept distracting me from getting ready. So I solved the problem.” I laughed. Robert’s laugh joined mine and I couldn’t stop the smile that was growing. I put my phone in my back pocket and returned to the closet to pull out some shoes. 

“You’re the one who was asking me about work.” Robert teased. 

“I know. I know.” I conceded. “I just wanted to make sure that we wouldn’t have to go in when we are supposed to be enjoying ourselves.” There was silence on the other end and I pulled my phone out of my pocket to make sure that I hadn’t accidentally ended the call. I hadn’t. “Robert?” I asked when there was still no response. 

“You still want to spend the whole day with me in my soon to be ex-wife’s house?” Robert finally said. “Uninterrupted?” I bit back my giggle, knowing it wouldn’t be helpful in this situation. 

“Yes Robert.” I said calmly. “I’ve been looking forward to it actually.” I heard him sigh with relief on the other end. 

“How soon can you get here?” he asked. I could hear the tension in his voice. 

“I can leave in ten minutes.” I said as I quickly pulled out a pair of combat boots and laced them up. “Are you there already?” I heard a muffled voice on the other end before Robert sighed again. 

“Unfortunately.” He muttered. “As much as it pains me I have to go sweetheart. I will see you soon.” I bit my lip as Robert ended the call. I assumed the muffled voice was his soon to be ex-wife and couldn’t help the feeling of jealousy that was bubbling up. 

“It’s probably just so he can get the keys.” I murmured to myself as I finished packing my bag. I thought about packing a change of clothes just in case. I shook my head and zipped up the bag. Looking around the room, I pocketed my phone and headed to the front door. I picked up my keys before turning around and walking back into my room. I grumbled as I grabbed another shirt and pair of jeans from the closet and threw them in my bag along with my charger. Zipping it up and shouldering it, I made my way out the front door. I eagerly got into my car and put the address that Robert had given me into the GPS. The entire ride over, I was smiling with excitement as I got out of my car even though there was still a shred of jealousy swimming around in my head. I knocked on the door and bit my lip as I waited. The door opened, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Hi!” I said, nerves making my voice shaky. The woman that opened the door raised an eyebrow and turned back towards the inside of the house. 

“Robert! Get your ass over here!” She yelled into the house. I watched as she tapped her nails against the doorframe and I gripped my bag a little tighter. She eyed me as I nervously fidgeted and I gave her a nervous smile. Robert appeared behind her and he gave me a warm smile before turning to look at her. 

“What?” he snarked. I bit my lip as he held out his hand for me. I took it and he pulled me into the house. “I told you I was having a guest. This is my guest.” I tried not to giggle as Robert pulled me into him and wrapped his arm around me. 

“You can’t be serious.” Robert smirked at the woman that was now blocking the door. 

“Oh come on.” He teased. “You’re not jealous are you?” He laughed as he tugged me a little closer. “If you are, that’s just too bad.” He looked her up and down before licking his lips. I kept my eyes on him as the woman who had answered the door scared me. “You made your choice perfectly clear when you chose to bring YOUR date back here the day you knew I would be coming back from Florida.” The woman’s nostrils flared and her face turned red while Robert looked smug. “So if you’d be so kind to leave us the house like you said you would, we have some things to attend to.” Letting go of me, Robert slowly walked towards the woman who kept backing up until she was out of the door. “Good-bye.” He slammed the door in her face before busting up laughing. I smiled at him as he made his way back to me. “That felt so damn good!” he laughed. I shook my head at him. 

“How long have you been waiting to do that?” I giggled as I asked. Robert took my bag and hung it over his shoulder. I took his free hand and let him gently pull me through the house. Robert looked over at me with a big grin. 

“Probably since a month after we got married.” He shrugged. “I’ll never understand what it was about her that I was attracted to. If I’m being honest it was probably the sex but even that lost whatever it was that made it good.” I moved closer and hugged his arm. 

“So why did you stick around so long?” I asked quietly. Robert bit his lip as he pushed a door open and tossed my bag on the bed. He looked down at my arms entwined around his. 

“I’m not entirely sure if I’m being honest.” He murmured. “It was probably because she was one of the few people that would put up with me. Or that she never really judged me.” I squeezed his hand and rested my head on his shoulder. “I knew she was sleeping around. Hell I was too.”

“Then why divorce her now?” I asked quietly. Robert turned towards me and gently pulled me over to the bed. Sitting down, he put his hands on my waist. I rested my hands on his shoulders and he looked up at me. 

“Something snapped. The last guy,” Robert shook his head. “She brought him back here and I caught them. It was real all of a sudden. It didn’t help that he was an old partner at the company I left for Dunder Mifflin.” I gently gripped the material on his shoulders. “Thing is, I had somehow known it was going to be him. Not some random guy.. He shrugged. “I guess that is the price I pay for basically doing the same thing when I started with her.” My eyes widened and Robert shook his head. “I’m not doing that with you. Me and her were over before I even laid eyes on you. It just took that one event to push us over the finish line. We were already getting a divorce before I met you.” 

“You said when you got back from Florida.” I said, confusion spilling into my tone. “But I thought,” Robert cut me off. 

“I got back from Florida a week before I met you. I went back down after I arrived at the office and then I came back that day I met you. The divorce was already being worked out before I even arrived at the office.” Robert comforted me. I nodded as he pulled me closer. “(Y/N), I swear it is going to be different between us. No sleeping around. No running around all the time. No cutting you out. If you want to continue this, that is.” I nodded as I wrapped my arms around his neck. 

“I want to continue this.” I whispered. Robert smiled up at me. “I believe you. I trust you. And I won’t do any of that to you. Ever.” He pulled me into his lap and I giggled at the action. 

“That is incredibly good to hear.” He said as he rested his head against mine. “Do you want to stay the whole weekend? I realized I never actually asked you that.” I laughed as I started to run my fingers through Robert’s hair. 

“I’m going to have to go back to my house to grab some extra clothes but yeah. I’d love to spend the weekend here with you.” Robert pressed a kiss to my cheek before hugging me tighter. “It just isn’t fair to leave you all alone in this giant house all weekend.” I teased. Robert chuckled before pulling back from me. “It isn’t!” My voice rose slowly as Robert stood up with me in his arms. 

“That’s what you say now.” He teased back as he walked through the house. I saw the backyard through the glass doors. “What about later?” I quickly flung my arms around his neck and held on tightly. 

“Robert!” I cried as he started to laugh. “Don’t you dare!” He smiled at me as he adjusted his grip on me. 

“Dare what?” He chuckled at my reaction as I attempted to move closer to him. 

“At least let me put my bathing suit on!” Robert backed into the door and turned back towards the pool. “Robert, my clothes are going to get all wet!” He laughed as he walked over to the edge of the pool. I tried to maneuver myself so I was on his back instead but Robert’s grip tightened on me. 

“Then I’ll put them in the dryer.” Robert said. I held onto him for dear life. “Do you want me to put you down sweetheart?” 

“Yes!” I exclaimed. Robert started to drop me. “But not in the…” My sentence was cut off by a splash. I surfaced and Robert laughed as I pushed my hair out of my face. “Pool.” Robert doubled over with laughter and I bit the inside of my lip. 

“You should have seen the look on your face.” He gasped out. I bit my lip a little harder before I got an idea. 

“Oh yeah?” I asked. “You should see the look on yours.” He looked up at me before he was covered in the miniwave that I created with my arm. I laid back in the water and laughed. Robert wiped the excess water off of his face before smiling down at me. Robert shook his head and chuckled. 

“I should have seen that coming.” He shook his head. I moved to the edge of the pool and smiled up at him. 

“Yes you should have.” I giggled. Robert squatted down in front of me and brushed a piece of hair off of my cheek. I smiled at him as I pushed back from the wall and carefully reached below the water to pull off my pants. I successfully removed them and tossed them at Robert. They hit his leg and he looked at me in awe. I took the moment of shock to remove my top and threw it at him as well. I ducked below the water to hide my blush and avoid Robert’s reaction. When I broke the surface, I pushed my hair out of my face. I swallowed when I saw the look on Robert’s face. I bit my lip as I watched him slowly unzip his track jacket and take it off. 

“If that’s how you want to play it.” He deadpanned. I took in what he looked like and nodded. “Alright then.” He smirked and pulled down his pants before jumping into the pool. I stayed where I was and let him come to me. My cheeks grew even redder as he put his hands on my waist. He kept his eyes level with mine. 

“I did not expect you to do that.” I murmured. Robert cocked his head and chewed on the inside of his lip. I noticed he did that a lot when he was thinking. 

“Is this alright?” He asked softly. I put my hands on his shoulders as I nodded. 

“More than alright.” I said. “I just didn’t expect it. Although with you I should expect the unexpected.” Robert chuckled before gently tugging me towards him. I let him pick me up underwater and wrapped my legs around his waist. I smiled as his hands settled on the small of my back. Robert looked at me lovingly and I blushed under his constant gaze. 

“This beats having to deal with the warehouse crew doesn’t it?” He asked. I nodded again as I gently ran my fingers through his slowly curling hair. 

“Yeah.” I said absentmindedly. “It does.” Robert smiled gently at me again before leaning in slowly. I stayed where I was and waited. It was like time stood still as he kissed me for the first time. My fingers stopped moving and remained entangled in his hair as his grip tightened on me. Any nerves I had about spending the rest of the weekend with Robert dissipated when we pulled away and looked into each other’s eyes. “That really beats it.” I murmured. Robert smiled and started walking to the wall of the pool.

“I concur.” He said as he sat me on the edge of the pool. I kept my legs wrapped around him and removed my fingers from his hair. We settled into a comfortable silence before I broke it. 

“Will there be more of that this weekend?” I asked, my voice coming out small and hopeful. Robert kissed me gently again before answering. 

“There will definitely be more of that this weekend.” he said, his breath fanning over my lips. I smiled at the feeling. “And even more of it in the coming weeks.” He kissed me again, almost sealing away the promise of something more to come. We stayed out in the pool, making out and enjoying the warmth of the day. When the sun had moved overhead, we got out of the pool and Robert collected our clothes. He moved through the house with ease and I had to remind myself that he had lived here for awhile before moving into his apartment. “Do you have a change of clothes?” Robert asked as he noticed me in the doorway, still wrapped in the towel that he had given me. I shrugged. 

“What if I don’t?” I asked, curious to see what his response would be. He took my hand and led me back to the bedroom. Pulling out his suitcase from under the bed, he took out a shirt and a pair of boxers. 

“They’re going to be big but they should work until your clothes are dry at least.” He held them out to me and I gaped at him. “What?” He looked at me confused before trying to put the clothes in my hand. “Don’t you need clothes?” I slowly shook my head and Robert lowered the clothes to the bed. 

“I just wanted to see what you would do.” I said. “I didn’t expect you to give me something to wear out of your own suitcase.” He chuckled and picked at a stray string on the shirt. 

“Well I wasn’t going to give you something of hers.” He motioned behind him to a closet undoubtedly filled with his ex’s clothes. There was a tense silence that settled over us. “I feel like an idiot now.” He said as he finally looked at me. I shook my head and took the clothes. I kissed his cheek and walked into the ensuite bathroom. I stripped out of my undergarments and put on Robert’s clothes. I used the towel to dry my hair some more before walking back out of the bathroom. 

“How do I look?” I asked as I leaned against the doorway. Robert looked over at me before giving me a small smile. He nodded as he took me in and I noticed him biting his lip again. I smiled as I made my way into the room and walked right up to him. I wrapped my arms around his waist before leaning in to kiss him. Robert relaxed into the kiss and let out a small whine as we pulled away. “Thank you.” He nodded slowly. 

“It’s awkward isn’t it?” He asked. I cocked my head. 

“What is?” I asked. Robert looked around the room. 

“Being here instead of my apartment.” He looked back at me. “Or yours.” I shrugged as I ran my hand up his back. 

“A little.” I agreed. “But once we get comfortable around each other like this, it won't be as awkward. It’ll be a little rebellious. Making out in your ex’s house and sleeping in her bed. Swimming in her pool and eating her food.” I shrugged again before giving him a quick kiss. “Sounds like fun to me.” Robert chuckled lowly as he pulled me tighter against him. 

“Sounds like fun to me too darling.” He said before pulling me onto the bed with him. And it was the most fun weekend I had had in a long time.

[tiaragqueen]

Give and Take

✂ Pairing: Yandere! Mafioso! Park Jimin x Singer! Reader

✂ Word Count: 1,8k+

✂ Trigger Warning: Mention of abduction, obsessiveness, possessiveness, implied forced marriage, murder, blood, death

✂ This story is fictional and for amusement only. I don’t believe any of the members would do this in real life. All in all, thank you for reading and I hope you have a good day!

Do not re-upload my writing to another website or use it without my permission.

[Edited]

***

You know you’ve been out of BTS fandom for too long when you accidentally mixed Jimin's surname with Kim. Also, I nearly forgot to write this.

Part 1

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“A hundred and five is the number that comes to my head, when I think of all the years I wanna be with you. Wake up every morning with you in my bed, that's precisely what I plan to do.” - Marry Me [Jason Derulo]

Being the girlfriend of a mafia boss was surprisingly… relaxed; or maybe because it was Jimin. When you woke up in a spacious room completed with a queen-size bed, a walk-in closet that kept lavish dresses and clothes in your favorite colors, en suite bathroom, and balcony, Jimin had barged in and immediately leaped on you. You remembered shrieking at the sudden attack of affection and tried to push him off, but he was surprisingly strong for someone so… short.

Suffice to say, he didn’t quite release you for the next ten minutes.

You’d never met a man so clingy, so affectionate except, maybe, a sasaeng. And even so, your guards never let them touch you. One or two times, yes, but their service was pretty good overall. However, they weren’t here to protect you now. You were left at the mercy of a mafioso, the boss one at that.

Now that you thought about it, what happened to your guards? You only remembered snippets of you going to a supermarket to buy snacks when someone abruptly knocked you out. You weren’t sure if your guards saw the culprit, but since the car was basically across the street, you concluded that they must have. After all, it was their job to watch over you.

But you supposed even the most experienced guards were nothing at the hands of mafioso.

You hoped nothing particularly bad had happened to them. Who knows what your kidnapper had done to them when you were unconscious. Wasn’t Mafia a cruel organization? It’d be understandable if the members were trained to act that way. Though, you prayed that they only knocked your guards out as they did to you.

And what about your manager? Oh, God. They must be worried sick about you. Well, maybe not necessarily your well-being.

However, it didn’t seem as if Jimin shared your concern. Not that you were expecting much from him, to begin with.

When you asked him about their conditions, he merely whined and proceeded to bury his face further into the crook of your neck.

“Why are you asking about other men when you already have me here? Am I not enough for you? Why do you even care about those puny men, anyway? They don’t deserve your attention. Not at all.”

You didn’t understand why he said it as though he was your boyfriend already, and that he deserved to be the center of your focus. In fact, you didn’t understand anything at all!

“O-of course I care about them! They’re my guards, after all. You can’t just…” You squirmed in his hold when you felt it tighten around your stomach. “You can’t just dismiss them like they’re nothing! And who the heck are you, anyway?” 

His giggle sent an awkward vibration throughout your body. If he sensed your discomfort, then he chose to ignore it. He probably noticed, because he soon giggled again and nipped your neck playfully.

“I’m your number one fan, of course.”

It finally dawned on you that you were dealing with no ordinary fan, but a sasaeng. Out of all people, he just had to be one.

And out of all frantic thoughts that circulated in your head, the worst just had to happen.

“… But,” he continued thoughtfully. “now that you’re here, I guess you could say that I’m your boyfriend!”

You learned pretty early that Jimin was serious about this whole ‘boyfriend’ thing, or maybe it was just him drilling his affection into your distraught brain. Every gift, from big to small, and from cheap to expensive, piled on your floor. Although looking at the ‘cheapest’ present he gave you, it was probably worth a thousand dollars. Your favorite food would be served every day, and any snack you craved would be sent to your – or should you say, your shared – room, regardless of the time.

Compared to your manager who needed to watch over the finance, Jimin didn’t bother to hold himself from spoiling you thoroughly. It came to the point where you had to keep your gaze from wandering to the things that interested you in fear of him buying them with or without your knowledge, usually the former.

Obviously, he wouldn’t do anything without a price. This was a give-and-take world, after all.

Luckily, the price wasn’t that outrageous. Just the things a lover usually did; affection and attention. But, as expected, he forbade you to look and speak to other people for too long. Not even the guards that were stationed outside your room was an exception to his ‘rule’.

And, of course, they’d be more loyal to him than to you. You were just a stranger who was suddenly plucked from your vibrant yet taxing life into his suffocating hug. A weak woman who could do nothing in the face of a muzzle.

“If you talk to other people for longer than ten seconds, I’ll shoot them.” That was what he said to you one day, during one of his impromptu cuddles. Despite the guileless smile he wore, you knew that he wasn’t kidding with his threat.

He’d told you that he’d spoil you to your heart content, and he’d ordered his subordinates to kidnap you. How could you doubt his words?

But you were lonely. The life in Park mansion was generally quiet, and although Jimin liked to invite you to his office, it still wasn’t enough. Not to mention, the guards had forbidden you to accompany him to his meetings because you weren’t ‘official’ yet – not that you necessarily wanted to come in the first place. You weren’t sure if you wanted to know the meaning of ‘official’ – though, you did have an inkling – and quickly backed down. Too quick because Jimin had whined, hand outstretched to grasp even a hem of your clothes.

You were so lonely you decided to bite the bullet and greeted the servant who came to give your food.

“… Hello.”

The servant was startled at first, eyes bulged out of their pockets as if you were threatening his family with a gun instead. Once he discerned your friendly, albeit awkward smile, he relaxed slightly and nodded.

Just a nod. He couldn’t even bring himself to return your greeting. That was how much he feared you, or rather, your affiliation with Jimin.

The hesitant response you received sent a pang of disappointment in your chest. To think that one day, people would fear you instead of admiring you like you were accustomed to seeing. You might not have many fans, but you were happy and grateful for their efforts to watch your concerts. You loved looking at their glittering eyes as they followed you on the stage, their wide beams, and their boisterous cheers.

And now, people couldn’t even glance at you without flinching and recoiling. Granted, it was only the servants. The guards didn’t bother to notice your existence beyond necessary interactions, which was very rare.

“Please don’t be afraid of me,” you said softly as though he was a cornered animal. “I’m not Jimin. I… I don’t even know what I’m doing in here, to be honest.”

The unnamed servant frowned, and after a moment of awkward silence, finally muttered. “Young master really loves you.”

You frowned while still smiling wearily. That wasn’t what you wanted to hear at all. The reason why you spoke to him was that you wanted to talk about anything, not him. But you supposed it was inevitable, wasn’t it? After all, you were under his ‘protection’.

“I-I see…” you trailed off, unsure of what to say next. Jimin was still in his meeting, right? Maybe you could prolong this, honestly useless, conversation. “Can you at least tell me what your name is?”

He shifted a little and looked down. Ah, you really made him uncomfortable, didn’t you?

Reluctantly, he opened his mouth. “It’s–”

Drops of blood splattered your face as he abruptly collapsed to the floor, dying with a shocked expression that rivaled yours. The bang managed to deafen your ears and froze your body momentarily. Slowly, you looked up and discerned the short figure on the doorway.

Jimin held his gun in one hand, face stony despite the death he caused and the trauma he inflicted on you.

“I really don’t want to do this because I know that not many people like to see real-life violence. But sometimes they need a lesson, don’t they?” He averted his emotionless gaze to you and smiled coldly. “I told you that I’ll kill anyone who talks to you for more than ten seconds. So why did you do it? Are you doubting me?”

“N-no, I…” You began to clamber away as he slowly advanced towards you, but the empty spot on your wrist forced you to stop. “I just… I just wanted someone to talk to me, is all.”

He squinted. “Why? Am I not enough for you until you had to go to someone else? A man at that?”

“… I’m sorry. Please don’t kill me.” you whimpered, eyes stinging from upcoming tears.

“Oh, I know!” You glanced up to him when you heard him snapping his fingers. “You must be lonely, right?”

Well, he wasn’t wrong but… you really didn’t want to hear his next words. It’d be worse, you were sure of it. There was no way he’d be lenient to you anymore after he caught you talking with a servant. As far as you were concerned, it was considered a ‘betrayal’ to him.

Jimin chuckled and swiftly locked his gun. “You should’ve told me! No need for a drastic measure like that!” he chirped despite the irony of the situation. “After we get married, I’ll definitely bring you to my meetings more!”

Your breath hitched. Get what…?

“What… what do you mean?” That was impossible. There was no way he said what you heard him saying, right? No, he couldn’t. He couldn’t just–

“Get married, of course!” he beamed, oblivious to the severity of his words. “My organization only acknowledges the official members, you know? So if you marry me, you’ll become a part of us too. Isn’t that great? That way, I can freely bring you anywhere.”

No, that wasn’t great. It’d never be great. You might not see another violence, hopefully, but you didn’t want to become a part of them. People tended to lump someone with their affiliations, and that meant they’d perceive you as a criminal, too!

You slowly shook your head, the tears started to spill. “Jimin, no… I can’t. I can’t marry you – I don’t want to.”

Jimin blinked owlishly. “What do you mean? Of course, you want to! You’re my girlfriend, after all!” he chirped. “My parents have seen your pictures, and luckily, they want to meet you tomorrow!”

You could’ve sworn your heart stopped beating for a second as the news crashed your head like a brick.

“So I think we should sleep early. It’ll be bad if you start yawning in front of them.” He giggled and plopped down beside you. “Don’t worry, we’ll be eating together from now on. I’ll tighten the security so people can’t come into our room as they please. That way, you won’t be lonely anymore!”

[dissident-vedder]

- the christmas miracle ( 𝐒.𝐆. )

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character a vows to do something nice for a stranger during christmas time. character b is that stranger.

A/N - layout by @adoresobs​!  prompt by @fanficy-prompts​

𝐌 𝐀 𝐒 𝐓 𝐄 𝐑 𝐋 𝐈 𝐒 𝐓

tears pricked at the back of your eyes. here you were, two weeks away from christmas, and still no presents, no decorations, and very little food to even last this week. nina, your six-year-old daughter, kept asking about why christmas hasn’t come yet to your house, but how were you gonna tell her that you were struggling to buy food alone? it seemed like everyone in your apartment building knew of your financial status. they eyed you sadly as you walked down the hallways, making your way to work your one of two jobs, dark undereye bags staining the once skin-toned flesh, nina constantly wondering why you were working and no longer spending time with her as much as you used to. 

“i’m here to pick up nina,” you told him. “i’m her mom, mrs. gossard takes care of her in the afternoons.” 

“oh!” he smiles at you, “you’re ms. [y/l/n], right?”

“yes, i am!” you smile back. 

“come in, she got tired and is taking a nap in the living room,” he opens the door, stepping aside to let you walk in, taking in the pastel pink walls and white wicker furniture. “i’m stone, by the way. i’m mary’s son.”

“you’re the one she always talks about!” you brightly smile at him, causing him to blush lightly, sheepishly bowing his head. “she’s really proud of you, you know.” 

“she’s always like that with her children,” stone laughs lightly, scratching the back of his neck. the pale color of his skin complimented his eyes, making them appear brighter in the white light of his mother’s living room. 

“mama?” nina’s soft voice called from the couch. her small fist rubbed roughly against her eyelids, rubbing the sleep out of them as she pushed her upper body up to a sitting position. “hi,” you replied tenderly, making your way to her, her arms stretching out to allow you to pick her up easily. she wraps her arms around your neck and her legs around your waist, burying her head into the side of your neck, sighing gingerly, taking in the scent of the perfume you always wore. you turned back to stone, “is your mom home?” you pulled a small wad of money from your pocket, wanting to pay her for taking care of nina for however long she has been taking care of her for. “i’d like to give her this.” you pushed it towards stone, who gently put his hand over yours, pushing it back towards you.

“my mom won’t take your money,” he smiled delicately. “she understands, don’t worry about it.” 

“but -”

“no buts,” he shook his head, making his way into the kitchen, picking up the platter from the counter. “she also wanted me to give you this, if you came over while she was at her doctor’s appointment.” 

“thank you,” you freed one of your hands from nina, planning to take the glassware from him. 

“no,” he puts it back down on the counter again, hands outstretched to take nina. “i’ll help you take it home.” he smiles softly again. swapping nina for the pie plate, moving towards the door, eyeing nina as she rested her head on stone’s shoulder. her faint snores restarted, causing the man’s heart to slowly turn to mush as he rested his cheek on her head. your heart swelled, opening the door to his mom’s apartment. nina’s estranged father was never in the picture, and seeing a strange man cuddle her softly to his chest as he helped you really brought both sadness and want into your heart. 

you wanted nina to experience what having a father was like, but you barely had time for her, let alone another person. you walk to your apartment in silence, fearful that nina would wake up from her nap if you were too loud for her liking; she was always a light sleeper, something she gained from her dad, who was always sleeping with one eye open. you always wondered why, seeing that the neighborhood the two of you lived in was relatively safe.

most of seattle was. 

taking your key and unlocking your door, you lead stone to nina’s room, the princess themed bedspread thrown haphazardly across her bed, a few barbies and kens laying about the floor in front of her dresser. he gingerly placed her down, unbuckling her jeans and pulling them down her legs before moving the bedspread to cover her up to her chin. you smiled at the sight before going to the kitchen, placing down the pie plate on the counter next to your stove. the sound of heavy steps alerted you of his presence, “i have to go, it’s almost the end of my mom’s appointment and i had to drive her down there.” 

“alright,” you told him. “thank you for helping me with nina, i appreciate it.” 

“no problem, it was a nice break from the music business,” he beams, chuckling a little. “well, hopefully i’ll see you later!” he waves at you before walking away, opening the door to your apartment. 

“hopefully,” you hugged your arms around yourself. 

you had noticed a piece of paper on nina’s nighttable, and upon closer inspection, you noticed that it was stone’s phone number with a messily scrawled, “call me :).” 

you did, the next day, and since then the two of you spoke and laughed at his jokes, him telling you stories of his childhood, his adventures across the world, the stress of being in a famous band. you feared telling him of your financial struggles and the struggle of trying to make enough money to get nina some presents. however, what you did not know, was that mary had told him of your problems and his plan to help you out with it. 

it was the night of christmas eve, and nina had fallen asleep after throwing a small crying fit, wondering how 1. santa was going to be able to come to your home since it was in an apartment building (this was an ongoing thing for the past three years) and 2. why the christmas tree still wasn’t up. “he’s not going to come here if he can’t see the tree!” she cried, letting you hold her close, rubbing the back of her head as you calmed her down.

sitting in your living room with a book on your lap, your heart continued to beat wildly against your chest. you bought her very few things, most of which were small and it would make her a little disappointed, and at the same time break you heart as she would go back to school and talk about how the other kids got bigger and better things. 

a small knock on your door caused you to freeze, eyes wide as you thought of what could happen. a burglar waiting for you to be dumb and open the door? mary coming over to bring some food? all bad thoughts crossed your mind until you heard, “it’s stone!” coming from the outside.

what was stone doing here at. . . you glanced at the clock in the kitchen, 4 in the morning? you put down the book, upside down as to keep your spot, and made your way to the door, still confused at why he was here. you unlocked the door and when you saw the christmas tree box - amongst other things - sitting at his feet, you gasped. “what is this, stone?” 

“it’s for you and nina,” he smiled. “now, come on, it’s cold.” the two of you laughed, taking the time to pick up the boxes and transferring them into the warmth of your apartment, and as each box came in, you noticed that a few were already wrapped and ready to be placed under the christmas tree, one of which was wrapped in a different paper than the others. stone noticed you looking at it. “it’s for you.” 

it took the two of you half an hour to put up the tree and place the presents underneath, and once it was done, you were able to fall asleep peacefully, you and stone passing out on the cushions of your sofa. “mama!” nina’s cries pierced through the thick veils of sleep and woke you and stone up. “santa came!” you peered at her through your eyelashes, seeing her angelic face brighten up as she saw the many presents placed at the bottom of the lit tree. 

“open them,” you insisted, trying to sit up with some difficulty, soon noticing stone’s head resting against your stomach, arms wrapped lazily around your middle. you haven’t seen her this happy, you noted, hand making its way into stone’s hair, gently rubbing his scalp. he hums softly, watching the girl tear through the first box, a high-pitched squeal leaving her lips as she realizes it’s the victorian purple barbie house she’s been pestering you for months and something you complained to stone about. 

“nina,” you caught her attention, “can you give me that box, please? it has my name on it.” you caught the neatly scrawled [y/n] on the top. she snatches up from the floor, running over to you, placing it in your outstretched hand before going back to her own. “what is this, stone?”

“open it,” he nods to it. 

you tear the paper, letting the pieces drop to the floor, seeing a flat velvet box come into view. written on top of it was ‘gucci’. opening it, an aged gold butterfly necklace stares back at you from the confines of the white cardboard interior, and peaking from behind it, a gold-colored debit card sat. “it currently has a few thousand dollars in it,” stone informs you. “and it’s attached to my bank acount, as well, so now you and nina are dependents.”

“stone, i can’t take this,” you begin to protest.

“why not?” he picked himself up from your stomach, glacing at you from above. “it’s my money and i get to choose what i want to do with it. and i want to help you and nina. there’s only one condition.”

“and what’s that?”

taking a short glance towards your daughter, who was too busy tearing open the last few of her presents, he lowers himself against you, face turning towards yours before he presses his lips softly on yours. “just be my girlfriend. that’s all i ask.”

you nod. “always.”

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