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deathlyhogwarts · 4 years ago

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Sleep talking Part 1 (Sirius Black x Reader)

Requested by @just-a-dreamer23: Thank you for the sweetest reply! 🥰 Can you write something in which the reader (Hufflepuff) is bff wt Lilly & they are having a sleepover or something. The marauders sneak in it but the girls are asleep. Y/n is in love wt Sirius & while she's asleep she spoke about him. Then he wakes her up & stuff between them happens. When she wakes up she tells Lils "I had the most vivid dream" but it wasn't a dream it was real. Thank you so much♥️ I'm having a good day so far 🥰

a/n: this idea is so cute im 😭 i'm really sorry it took so long, you probably don't even remember requesting this, i'm really bad at sticking with things (can you tell i'm a gemini) but it's finally finished! i meant for it to be written in one part, but i decided to break it in 2 because this one already had 3.4k+ words and i didn't want to make it too long. if you want to be tagged in part 2 or any other fic that i'll write in the future just comment here! hope you like this one <3

Sleepovers at Hogwarts were rare, to say the least—everybody was always busy with something; either an activity, studying, practicing, and sometimes lectures were enough to make you feel tired all throughout the weekend. People didn't really like pulling all nighters to talk about stuff that is going to be irrelevant the next morning. Getting drunk was also at the bottom of the list.

You found that to be very sad. Being a Hufflepuff, friendship was a focal point in your life, and you thought sleepovers were the perfect way to connect with people on a deeper level. Nights always bring out people's depths. You always tried to make your friends have one, but they were always busy studying or doing something else.

Lily was an exception; while she loved her studying very much, she knew how to have fun (in a responsible way), so you were very excited when she came up with the idea of a sleepover, after you've long abandoned even the thought of it. She planned everything, though there was only one problem: you weren't really allowed inside the Gryffindor Common Room at night, so you had to sneak in. That was the only irresponsible thing you were going to do.

This sleepover was the only thing running through your mind all day, you could barely concentrate in classes, though there was just one thought that shared space with the sleepover in your mind—Sirius. Sirius Black was a Gryffindor, so of course you hoped you would see him tonight. You were aware, however much you wanted to deny, that that was playing a part in why you were so excited.

Things were a bit weird between you and Sirius—well, maybe for you, not for him. You were sure he barely thought about you. You would hang out from time to time because Lily was starting to tolerate James, and you being really good friends with Lily, of course she invited you to hang out with them and his friends. In fact, that's how you came to like Sirius. Before that you just thought he was an arrogant prick, but after seeing how funny and thoughtful he was with his friends, you realized he put up a façade for the world. Who you thought he was wasn't real at all, but a mere reflection of who everybody wanted him to be. Which intrigued and saddened you at the same time.

You never really had the chance to hang out just the two of you, except for one time, a couple of months ago. You were all having a picnic outside, and somehow, one by one, everybody left because they had something to do; you and Sirius were the only ones who weren't busy. So you talked that day. You talked about your dreams—who and what you wanted to be and do in life, fears and hopes for the future. It was a very good and deep talk, and Sirius actually listened. That was when you knew he was an amazing person. Sadly, after that day, you barely saw him again. That was the only time you spent time alone and really talked, and although you desperately wanted to get to know him better, he didn't seem to care about you that much. In the hallways he would nod and smile whenever he saw you, just like he did with everyone else. Sure, he would converse with you (probably out of respect) and joke with you whenever you were all hanging out, but after the few words exchanged between the two of you, he didn't look at you again. It was okay, though. He probably didn't want another friend and he was fine with you being just acquaintances. You didn't take it personally, nor did you try to force it; that was just the way things were. However, that didn't stop you from falling for him.

You hoped that you spending the night in the Gryffindor Common Room would mean he would see you, maybe talk to you. You hated yourself for wanting that, but the feeling was there. There was no way to remove it, at least not in the near future.

Putting Sirius aside and burying him somewhere deep in your mind, you decided you were going to have fun. This was about you and Lily, not anyone else. Smiling to yourself, you knocked on the Gryffindor Common Room door, waiting for Lily to open it for you. She also gave you a Gryffindor scarf so it wouldn't look suspicious. The Fat Lady looked at you with a judgemental stare.

"Do you have the password, young lady?"

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other. Where was Lily? "Um, yeah, I forgot it and I'm waiting for my friend to let me in." You smiled nervously, looking anywhere but at the Fat Lady. She just scoffed and rolled her eyes, and started singing. "My god, I'm glad we don't have you in our quarters," you said under your breath.

"What was that?" she asked.

"Oh? Nothing, I was just—"

The door opened and Lily was standing on the threshold and leaning on the wall, smiling. "Well, do come in, will you? We don't want the Fat Lady knowing what house you're from."

"You just sat there listening, didn't you?" You laughed and shook your head, making your way inside and letting Lily lead the way, not even listening to her answer as it was blacked out by the burst of warmth coming from the Gryffindor Common Room; it wasn't just physical warmth, there was this feeling of comfort and friendliness in here that took you by surprise. You didn't know what you expected either; all the Gryffindor people that you knew were these brave, confident, driven people. Maybe you expected people to be wrestling or competing in board games, but everybody was laughing and talking, genuinely enjoying each other's company. The smell of tea lingered in the room and the sound of fire crackling was dancing in your ears. In essence, it wasn't so different from the Hufflepuff Common Room, but the energy was still very different.

"Y/N? Did you hear me?"

You blinked, coming back to reality. Lily became clear in your eyes again. "Sorry, what did you say?"

"I said we can stay here if you want, there aren't many people and it's way more comfortable than in my dorm, where it's all dark and gloomy. What do you think?"

The thought of the Marauders surfaced. You looked around but sadly, they weren't here. You nodded. "Yeah, I'd like that."

You made your way towards the biggest couch in the room, which happened to be in front of the fire. As you walked, you noticed people didn't look at you twice, meaning they probably didn't mind you being there. Even if you had a Gryffindor scarf, they most likely knew you weren't a Gryffindor.

As the time passed, you couldn't help but notice that the room was way emptier than it was when you got here; two or three hours must have passed. Lily talked about her home, which wasn't an unfamiliar topic for you, but she always found new interesting things to tell you about her family, home town and the Muggle World, which you found fascinating. She talked about James and how she came to the realization that he's not as conceited as she thought he was, but rather somewhat tolerable company, and even funny sometimes. You smiled. It was obvious they had feelings for each other and even more obvious that James was an incredible person. In contrast, you told her about growing up in the world of magic and you made comparisons about your childhoods. The night was going well.

Right now you were holding a warm mug of tea in your hands and watching the fire, while Lily was sleeping on the other end of the couch. She fell asleep some half an hour ago, leaving you the only person awake in the Common Room. You didn't realize but your own eyes started to close and before you knew it, you fell asleep facing the fire, not knowing that not even five minutes after, the Marauders walked into the Common Room.

• • •

James, Sirius, Remus and Peter tried to enter the Common Room as silently as possible, afraid of being caught after pulling yet another prank on Mr. Filch. However, they failed miserably as the moment they stepped inside, Peter tripped and fell on the floor, and Sirius and James started laughing out loud.

"Would you stop being so loud? You're gonna wake up the entire house," Remus said as he helped Peter up.

"It's not like they're not used to it, Moony," Sirius said giving him a cheeky smile. "Besides, it's only 2 in the morning, that's early! I'm surprised there's no party going on." He started walking around pretending to look confused and examined the place, as if looking for hidden clues.

"Well, looks like there was." Sirius heard James say. He turned around and saw him kneeling beside the couch, placing a blanket on someone. As he got closer, he saw James was caressing Lily's hair, who was sound asleep. "She's really cute when she sleeps." Obviously that was meant to be heard by no one, but Sirius heard it. His heart skipped a beat when he saw you on the other end of the couch, sleeping with a half full cup of tea in your hands. James' words echoed in his head and he couldn't help but think that those words applied to you, and only you. As if by instinct, he took the cup out of your hands and placed it on the table next to him. You even spilled some of it on your hands and your shirt, and a little bit on the couch. He found himself smiling at the thought of you being so sleepy that you forgot you had tea in your hands. You were always so careful with details, you must have been really tired to forget.

"Sirius, you coming?" He snapped out of his thoughts and looked up, seeing the boys, even James on the staircase that led to their dorms. They were all looking at him questioningly. Sirius never told them what was going through his mind all day, he never asked James when they were going to hang out with you and Lily again, even though he desperately wanted to. He never told them, because he was afraid of it himself, but he knew the boys saw that something was going on and they probably figured it out by now.

"Yeah, I'll be in a minute. I just have to clean this up."

He heard their feet walking up the stairs and then the door to their room opening and closing. He sighed and kneeled in front of you and with a napkin, he took your hand in his and started wiping. Your hand was so delicate and smooth compared to his; your hands were the hands of an artist, while his were bruised and rough to the touch. That was, he thought, exactly how different your personalities were as well. He tried not to dwell on that too much, as he was always saddened by the thought.

When James and Lily started hanging out and she brought you along, Sirius caught an interest in you. You seemed very fun to be around, and you proved that suspicion of his to be true. However, that day that you spent together, talking about your dreams and hopes for the future, he realized he had to keep distance. If he liked you before, he had to suppress those feelings immediately. He realized that day that you had such big dreams and such high hopes, your eyes were practically shining when you talked and he couldn't help the big smile that appeared on his face. When you asked him about his dreams, that's when he got a bit uncomfortable. Considering what his upbringing was and his roots, he didn't have many hopes for the future. He didn't want to worry you, or worse, he didn't want to be pitied by talking about his family and life. How could he have told you that his only dream was to be enough for someone? To be accepted for who he is and not be tormented just for being the person that he is? So he made up a story about how he wanted to help people, like some kind of healer, which wasn't exactly a lie, but wasn't the focal point of his existence either. After that day he tried to keep distance. He didn't want to burden you with his own self and distract you from being the person you wanted to be.

"Sirius." His thoughts were interrupted by your voice. His head snapped up and he looked at you with wide yes, but yours were closed. Were you awake?

"Y/N?" he said, putting the napkin aside.

"I don't understand," you muttered. He realized you were talking in your sleep. He was wondering what you were dreaming about; were you dreaming of the same things that you told him about? Why were you saying his name? Sirius knew he shouldn't listen to what you were saying in your sleep, that was personal, but he heard his name. He had to listen.

"Sirius," you said again, frowning this time.

To Sirius it didn't seem like a very good dream and he didn't like seeing you frown while saying his name. He would much rather hear his name come from your lips with happiness.

He shook your shoulder gently; he read somewhere in Moony's books that you should be very careful when waking someone from a nightmare. Or was it from sleepwalking? "Y/N," he whispered, getting up from his position and sitting on the couch beside you. "Y/N," he said again, a bit louder this this time. He hoped with his entire heart that Lily wouldn't wake up.

• • •

Someone was shaking your shoulder. Blinking a few times and adjusting to the light, you slowly opened your eyes. Sirius was standing right next to you, his hand on your shoulder, having stopped moving, felt like a candle slowly pouring hot wax on you. As if hearing your thought, he removed his hand slowly and looked at you questioningly.

"What's going on?" you asked. You felt so dizzy and everything was a bit blurry, it almost felt like a dream. Maybe it was a dream, one of those in which you're aware you're dreaming. You looked around; Lily was exactly where she was before you fell asleep, only now she had a blanket over her and her hair was gracefully pulled to the side. There was no one else in the Common Room. Your eyes moved back on Sirius, who had this strange look on his face, it almost didn't look like him. He looked vulnerable, his eyes big and his pupils dilated, and he was fidgeting with his fingers.

"Well, I should ask you that, it's not everyday you see a Hufflepuff in here," he said as he chuckled.

"We were having a sleepover..." your voice trailed off. This was a dream, wasn't it? Everhthing felt different, and Sirius was here, acting like he's never acted before. This must be a dream. You straightened your back and yawned. You realized there was a blanket over you that wasn't there before, and part of your shirt was soaked with tea.

Sirius, noticing you were looking at yourself confused, he said, "When I got here the tea was still in your hands and you spilled some of it, I tried to clean it up." He pointed at the napkin on the table.

You looked at the table and back at him. If this was a dream, you could do whatever you wanted, right? Your hand reached his face and you brushed the hair out of his face. "Thank you."

He widened his eyes. He couldn't deny that he liked how your touch felt on him. And you were saying his name in your sleep; that had to mean something, right?

"Y/N," he said softly.

"Mm?" you said as you got closer. Your face was now only centimetres apart from his. He was looking at your lips, his breath getting heavier. Your eyes were half closed; you were most likely still half asleep, but this was the realest thing you were going to do in a very long time. You've always wondered how Sirius' lips tasted and if they had an original taste of their own; would they taste like every girl's lips he has ever kissed? Would they taste like mint? If this was real life, you would probably get self-conscious about the fact that he's been with so many girls, but right now, he was just the product of your imagination. He was probably going to taste however you wanted him to.

"You were saying my name," he whispered. He was leaning in as well and you were about to kiss (a/n: 👉👈) only you knew he was waiting for an answer from your part.

"What?" you asked, barely concentrating on what he was saying.

His hand reached to caress your cheek. He knew this was wrong, you were barely awake, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't want to do this from the moment you told him about your dreams, from the moment you opened up to him. "In your sleep, you were saying my name. Why?" He needed to know the answer. He needed to know that you felt the same and he wasn't going to make a fool of himself.

You smiled. "Of course I said your name, Sirius. You're always on my mind." It felt so good to finally be able to express how you felt without actually having consequences to what you were saying. Even though tomorrow you'll wake up with the same situation as yesterday, at least in your dreams things were going alright.

He opened his mouth to answer, but you didn't want to wait anymore and you pressed your mouth onto his. You felt him tense as soon as your lips met and you wanted to back down had it not been for his hands reaching to cup your face; he kissed you back very softly, which was a bit of a surprise to you. Even in your dream, Sirius seemed like the type of guy who kisses with hunger and dominance, but this kiss was everything but that. He was caressing your face with his thumbs as you broke apart. You kept your eyes closed. You didn't see, but he was looking at you with such hopeful eyes. Maybe he did stand a chance? In this moment, right here, he felt he could be enough for you, so maybe he should go for it. But not now, when you were half asleep and barely knew your own name.

He gulped. "Y/N, I really think you should go back to sleep. We can talk tomorrow." Your eyes were still closed and your head was leaning on his palm. He has never seen someone look so angelic before.

"Mhm," you murmured, already falling back into unconsciousness. "Can't wait to go back to reality."

He looked at you confused, but shrugged it off. You were most likely talking out of your ass (a/n: not very british of me ik sjsj). He put the blanket over your shoulders, kissed your forehead and, with a final glance at the two girls asleep on the couch, he went upstairs. Unfortunately, Sirius barely slept that night; his mind kept wondering back to the thought of you and the kiss you shared. He was also very physically aware that you were just a few metres away from him downstairs, and he felt this magnetic pull towards you. You were so close.

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httpjeon · 6 years ago

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❝ blowing dandelions ❞ pjm ― m.

― summary:

as a child, you met park jimin. as an adult, the same jimin is much different.

badboy!jimin/reader | e2l, childhood friends | angst, fluff, smut | 7.8k ↬ content warnings: blowjob, deepthroating/facefucking, pet names, praise kink, dirty talk, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, light pain kink, mentions of death (no one major), mean!jimin, crying, fighting, light physical abuse(he like shakes u), jimin gets in a fight, tae tries to keep the peace

a/n: it’s kind of long im sorry. also this is from a fic title game i played ages ago!

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You always think back to the summer when you were 10. It was a time where you held some of your best memories, a truly tranquil and happy time of your life. It had been the first time you left your home in Seoul to see the ocean. You and your family had rented a little home near the beach and you could always remember how much fun you had when your feet touched the ocean for the first time.

The fondest part was when you had met a little boy, his name was Jimin. You remembered his chubby cheeks and endearing smile; he was happy and bright and it was truly contagious. He lived in Busan, in fact, he lived near the ocean and since it was summer, he had all the time in the world to play in the sand.

“I’m here with my Mama!” He had declared oh so proudly while drawing nonsensical things in the sand.

It didn’t take you very long after meeting Jimin to learn his mother was his whole world, he went on and on about how much he loved her. He had told you, a sad smile on his face, that he didn’t have a dad around. It was just him and ‘Mama’.

Somewhere along the way, you found yourself developing a crush on the bubbly boy. Every morning he would come to the house, ringing the doorbell and asking if you were awake because he wanted to play. Your mothers would sit on the porch chatting and laughing while watching the two of you run around and laugh.

You taught him how to make flower crowns as well. There was a little patch of wildflowers you two had discovered one day and as Jimin watched you weave the flowers together he had begged you to teach him how to. At that age, you didn't know much about flower arranging and truthfully it didn't turn out very pretty. It was a mixture of small flower-like weeds and dandelions. His fingers shook slightly as his tongue was poked out in concentration.

You found yourself watching him with a huge grin on your face and your cheeks burning with the realization that you found him cute.

One particular evening, there were fireworks being set off and you and Jimin spent the entire day preparing to watch them. You had set out blankets and towels, even asking your mothers to prepare a little picnic for you -- which they readily agreed to.

So during that night, as you and Jimin watched the night sky explode in an array of colors that reflected off the ocean, you were happy. Small fingers intertwined together and shy eyes met; he was your first crush and you couldn't even find it in yourself to be embarrassed. Jimin had a certain quality about him that made you confident, you knew he wouldn't ever judge you.

Jimin was your first kiss -- at the tender age of 10 it was nothing but a little peck but it was meaningful.

As an adult, you still held to it than that soft boy from Busan that you spent 3 fateful summer months with was your first crush, first kiss, and first love.

Busan held a special place in your heart and you hadn't been able to return to the sea-side city since those days. So when you had the opportunity, you decided to apply to college there. You were eager to see the ocean again and also to escape the city of Seoul that you'd spent your whole life in.

Saying goodbye to your family was sad, heartbreaking even, but with your pet cat in his carrier and boxes of your belongings packed in the trunk...you felt ready.

The apartment you got wasn't spectacular by any means -- one bedroom and one bath. The kitchen was small and conjoined with the living room and there wasn't a designated space for eating. Still, you spent days decorating it until it was up to your tastes.

The apartment was near the place you stayed at that summer -- so when you walked outside you could smell the salt of the sea in the air. As a student away from home, your school helped you in getting a job -- coincidentally at a flower shop. It was fitting considering your major being in plant sciences.

In order to work full time, you mainly attended online courses while having to go on campus to take your exams.

You were happy.

You were working at the flower shop, Sweet Arrangements it was called, for a few months before you met Kim Taehyung. He had practically skipped his way into the shop, boxy smile and messy hair.

"Hey, you have Tulips by chance?" He asked and you noticed that his shirt was sticking to his chest with sweat.

"Yeah, you need them arranged?" You asked, resting your elbow on the desk with your chin in your hand.

"No, no I just need a couple alone," He responded, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets.

"They're right over there, we have a few selections for you to choose from," He followed your pointing finger, and scampered over to the corner where he squatted and began to pick a few of his chosen flowers.

"Alright," He breathes, placing a bunch on the table in front of you. With practiced ease, you clipped the stems a bit and wrapped them so they were bunched together. His dark eyes made you feel a little nervous for some reason, and you found yourself exhaling slowly to ease your racing heart. He was a very attractive man and there was no way you could deny that.

"That'll be ₩27,000,"

Flashing a smile, you took his money and wished him a nice day as he booked it out of the shop. You briefly wondered why he was in such a rush -- perhaps he forgot an important date for a girlfriend or boyfriend.

With that, it didn't take you long to realize how often Taehyung needed flowers. He would come in at least once a week asking for the same thing; simple tulips. You never asked why he wanted them until what felt like his 1000th visit.

"So, tell me why you always buy this specifically," You asked one day while you were cutting the stems for him.

"Oh, well, I actually put them on a grave," He said, smiling softly. "She really liked tulips,"

"Your mother?" You asked, immediately feeling bad for asking before shaking your head. "That was insensitive, I'm sorry,"

"No it's alright," He smiled, taking the flowers from your hands. "It's something like that. She was like a mother to me,"

"I see, well, I think it's very sweet of you to do this so much," The two of you fell into a weird silence, just sharing a strange atmosphere.

"Hey, I...I wanted to know since you moved here if you've had time to make any friends?" His sudden question shocked you, and you blinked, adjusting your position to shove your hands in your apron pockets.

"Not particularly, I mostly just work and go home," You responded, shrugging your shoulders.

"Well, I think that we'd get along really well and...you're pretty nice so...if you'd like, some friends and I are going out for dinner tonight if you want to tag along," He seemed quite sheepish as he spoke, scratching the back of his hand and biting his lip.

"Well, I get off work at 7," Your response seemed to shock him, his eyes snapping up to meet yours in wide surprise.

"That's perfect!" He grinned, a boxy bright smile. "I'll come by to pick you up and walk you there!"

You didn't get to say another word as he turned on his heel, running out the door with a final jingle of the bell. You watched him out the window, running down the street until he disappeared from sight.

The sun was setting when you stepped out from behind the counter, untying your work apron to hang on the hook for Monday. You felt your shoulders relax at the idea that you had two days off from work.

"I'll see you Monday, Kyungok!" You called the owner, who was watering the plants. She grinned, waving and giving you a small 'see you' before you stepped out the door.

"Oh, right on time!" Following the deep voice, you were met with Taehyung's boxy grin."Come on, the wing place is just a few blocks,"

As you walked, you asked Taehyung what his friends were like. You were a little nervous, it was always anxiety-inducing when you were meeting an already established group of friends.

"They're a good bunch of guys," He told you, a proud smile on his face. "Jin is the oldest and he kind of looks after us and makes sure we don't get into trouble, he also acts like the youngest sometimes. Yoongi is quiet but he seems cold but he's the quiet kind of kind but when he's drunk...he's loud, it's really fun. Hoseok is really loud and really bright, he laughs a lot and he's just really happy. Namjoon is kind of the one who we all really go to for everything, he's our confidant and he keeps everyone mellow -- really smart guy too. Jungkook is the youngest in our group and he's kind of a crackhead, he does a lot of stupid shit and usually is the reason for Jin's rage," He paused for a moment, seeming to think about something. "The last is Jimin, I'm not sure if he'll show up...he's kind of hit or miss. He's...how do I put it? He's kind of a troubled guy, he's got a pretty nasty temper and he's kind of cold but I've known him since we were kids so he's my best friend, to be honest. But on his good days he's really nice and he honestly really cares for us and always makes sure we're doing well,"

"They sound nice," You replied easily, though feeling a little more anxious after hearing of Jimin's mean tendencies.

"Here we are," You found yourself standing in front of a little out-of-the-way restaurant. There were only a few groups of people inside that you could see and as Taehyung opened the door, there was a loud cheer from a particular group of boys.

"Tae!" They called as Taehyung escorted you over.

"Guys, this is _____, she works at the flower shop!" He introduced, which resulted in several greetings and introductions.

Seokjin was a man with a beautifully sculpted face and wide shoulders. Yoongi was a small, pale guy with sharp eyes and blonde hair hanging in his face. Hoseok had the brightest smile you had ever seen and he greeted you with a warm hug (much to your shock). Namjoon wore circle lens glasses and was dressed immaculately, showing you a pretty dimpled smile. Jungkook had an adorable bunny smile that contradicted his muscular, tall build and all black clothing. Finally, Jimin who merely flicked a bored gaze to you before taking a sip of his drink.

It didn't take long before you were familiar with all the boys and even added to their group chat on your phone. It was almost startling how well you got along with them, making each other laugh and having dinner with them almost every Friday night.

The first time you witnessed Jimin's temper, however, you were sure that all the boys would never want to see you again. That you'd be cast out for making him upset like that and causing an argument between the group and Jimin.

Hoseok picked you up from the flower shop on a Friday, but instead of going to a restaurant, you were taken to an apartment complex.

"We're heading to Jimin's," Hoseok explained, a little bounce in his step and a serene smile on his face.

"Really? For what?" You were surprised, you hadn't been to Jimin's place before.

"I don't know really, Taehyung just told me to bring you here instead of the wing place," Hoseok explained, exiting the elevator onto the 5th floor which was apparently where Jimin lived.

Room 510, you remember the number being. After several knocks, the door was opened by Namjoon who grinned at the two of you -- even placing a kind hand on your head in greeting.

"Hey, you!" Taehyung called happily, coming down the stairs with a smile on his face.

"Why am I here?" You asked, taking a seat on the offered couch beside Jungkook, who was playing a video game. He still took a moment to smile and say hello when you sat down.

"Jin's cooking tonight and I thought it'd be great for you to taste some of his delicious food," Taehyung explained, dropping down onto the loveseat where Hoseok had taken a seat. Namjoon disappeared into the kitchen to presumably help Jin cook, Jungkook played video games, and Yoongi was curled up on a recliner watching something on his phone.

"That sounds lovely," You breathed, relaxing in your seat to watch Jungkook murk a bunch of zombies.

You didn't get to watch him for very long before Jin and Namjoon were setting the table with a delicious pot of shrimp fettuccine alfredo that smelled absolutely divine. Jin greeted you happily, cracking an unnecessary joke that had Yoongi groaning and Hoseok cracking up.

"Jimin, come down for dinner!" Jungkook shouted up the stairs after pausing the game while everyone else took a seat.

Heavy footsteps followed, though you were more interested in the steaming, delicious food Jin was piling into pristine white bowls. Your mouth was actually watering, it smelled divine and you didn't hesitate to tell Jin so, earning you the nicest hug and thank you from the man you'd ever received.

You learned quickly they greatly appreciated having a girl in their midst, not because they could flirt or date you -- but because you offered a nice sweetness and lightness with your femininity to the group that was otherwise missing.

The peaceful atmosphere was rudely disrupted by a harsh voice spewing curse words.

"What the fuck?" All heads snapped to the foot of the stairs where Jimin was standing with fists clenched at his sides. "Why the fuck is she here?"

"Oh Jimin," Jin greeted, completely disregarding Jimin's words to greet him.

"I asked a fucking question, I didn't invite her," His voice was so low, it was almost a growl and his chest was rising and falling rapidly.

"I invited her!" Taehyung chirped, completely unbothered by Jimin's growing temper.

"Why the fuck would you do that?! I don't want her here!" Jimin snapped, making you jump.

"She's our friend, Jimin," Yoongi spoke up, mouth full of pasta.

You were feeling increasingly uncomfortable with the way you were being talked about -- like you weren't here on top of his nasty words.

"Jimin, come on, just sit down," Hoseok sighed, frowning but looking quite concerned on top of that. "We all want her here, so let's just have a nice dinner,"

"Shut up, Hoseok," Jimin snapped, making the older man stiffen beside you.

"Watch it, Jimin," Hoseok warned, narrowing his eyes as he obviously tried to keep himself calm.

"I want you out," Jimin snarled, finally addressing you directly.

His tone of voice had you scrambling to your feet, accidentally knocking over an empty glass. With trembling hands, you picked it up and scampered back over to where you had kicked your shoes off.

"No, ____, don't leave!" Jungkook stood up, whining at you.

"Go, _____!" Jimin snapped, making you jump in surprise at his volume.

"I-I'll just head home," You muttered out, nearly stumbling in your haste to get your shoes on.

Before you shut the door, you caught sight of the boys frowns, watching you leave. You tried to offer a smile, but you're sure it didn't meet your eyes judging by the way Taehyung's shoulders slumped before the finalizing click of the door closing.

While you received apologies from the other boys, you didn't hear anything from Jimin. In fact, the next time you saw him, he completely ignored you. He showed no sympathy or any sign that he felt bad for kicking you out that night which only planted a seed in your head telling you he hated you.

Still, you were pleasantly surprised to be invited out once more after that horrible dinner night. From then on, you rarely ever went to Jimin's place -- just because you didn't know if it was a bad night or he really didn't want you around. You felt as if you were walking on eggshells around him, he made you quite nervous to accidentally step out of line.

You eventually decided to forgive and forget. You couldn't let someone's bad mood ruin good times that you could be having with your friends.

One day, you were asked to meet at your usual wing place by Namjoon. It was a bit unusual because you truly didn't hang out with Namjoon alone often, he was usually just an integral part of the group.

"So we're holding a little...get together," The way Namjoon attempted to ease you into it immediately had you on edge.

"...What are you planning?" You squinted suspiciously at him.

"I know you don't want to go to Jimin's after last time, but the party is at his place," Namjoon explained and you sighed, but before you could say anything he stopped you. "We already spoke to Jimin and we said if you weren't invited then we wouldn't have the party so he agreed!"

"He agreed to let me inside his house?" You asked, receiving a nod. "For the party?" Another nod.

"So you'll come right?" He asked, gazing at you over the rims of his glasses.

"Fine, I'll come," You sighed before immediately being brought into a bone-crushing hug.

"They'll be very happy to hear it," Namjoon grinned, beautiful dimples and shining smile.

"I'm sure," Your reply was a little dry, but Namjoon continued to smile despite it.

The two of you continued with your small lunch and you learned the boys had drawn straws to see who would have to talk you into coming.

The party was hosted on a Friday night and when you entered Jimin's apartment, you noticed how much food and alcohol there was available.

By the time you had arrived, the party had already begun with you being the last to show. Jimin and Taehyung were on the couch, both of them nursing red solo cups filled with who-knows-what. Hoseok, Namjoon, and Yoongi were all standing around the entrance to the kitchen chatting amongst themselves. Finally, Seokjin and Jungkook were bickering over what to play on the stereo -- Jin wanted chill music and Jungkook wanted something to jam to.

"Hey guys," You greeted softly, earning all of their attention at once.

"_____!" Various cries of your name along with muddled greetings.

Before you knew it, you were pulled into the party. Jungkook ended up winning, so strong bass and beats flowed from the speakers. You sipped from the generously filled up of alcohol while picking at the bowl of chips in front of you.

It didn't take you long to realize they'd all been drinking much longer than you had because within an hour 5 of the 7 men present were passed out drunk. The last men standing were Taehyung, and Namjoon.

Jungkook and Seokjin had gotten into a drink-off with Jungkook winning because he ended up running off to puke while Jin quite literally dropped to the floor and was out like a light. Hoseok's cheeks had turned red several minutes before he curled up complaining that the room was spinning, before promptly passing out. And Yoongi, you weren't sure if he passed out or just went to sleep. Jimin, you were sure, had probably been drinking the longest out of all of them as he was the first one to tap out and fall asleep on the couch.

Taehyung and Namjoon were having a little conversation, thought you couldn't quite make out what they were saying through the giggles and slurred words.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom," You mumbled, standing up and blinking several times as the room spun a bit.

Maybe you were drunker than you thought. Either way, that alcohol went right through you and you had to pee.

Scampering upstairs, you quietly slipped into the bathroom.

However, as you came back out, you couldn't help but notice Jimin's bedroom door was open. Maybe it was the alcohol flowing through your veins giving you courage or maybe it was just pure stupidity, but you slipped into his room.

The first thing you noticed was how lovely his room smelt, most likely due to the soft vanilla candle burning on his nightstand. His bed was unmade and a few articles of clothing were strewn about, including his favorite leather jacket laid across his bed.

However, the one thing that caught your attention was the big book labled photo album sitting on a shelf as if it were a shrine. You walked up to it and grabbed it, finding that there was absolutely no trace of dust on it -- it was either well used or well taken care of. Kind of strange for a photo album.

You took a seat on the edge of his bed with the album in your lap, flipping it open. The first page was a dedication page that simply said "Park Family".

Surely he wouldn't mind that much if you looked at it right? After all, it was just a family photo album. Plus this could be a great way to get to know more about him!

With that thought in mind, you began to flip through the pages. At first they were just old pictures, presumably his mother and father getting married. There were also some old highschool photos of his mother and father, and eventually you came across Jimin's baby photos. You smiled as you saw what a cute baby he was, chubby cheeks and all.

It wasn't until you got about 10 pages in that you began to notice something; Jimin looked awfully familiar as a child. As your suspicions rose, you continued to flip until you found the pictures of when Jimin was about 10.

He was on summer vacation at a beach and when you took note of a picture -- Jimin standing beside a young girl as both of them wore flower crowns made of yellow dandelions, two women stood behind them as they all smiled happily, you realized why he looked so familiar.

Fate had a funny way of playing games and for some reason she decided now was the time to start one.

Park Jimin, the bright boy who always had a smile on his face that you spent a wonderful summer watching fireworks reflect off the ocean; was the same Park Jimin who absolutely hated your very existence.

Part of you was thankful you made this discovery at that moment, because as soon as the puzzle pieces fell into place, a dark ominous voice came from the doorway.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

You nearly jumped out of your skin, turning your head to see Jimin standing there. He had his fists clenched at his sides and you swear you could see anger flashing in his eyes.

"J-Jimin--" Before you could explain yourself, Jimin was storming towards you and ripping the book from your hands.

"Who the fuck said you could go into my room?" He snapped, slamming the book closed but delicately placed it on the shelf as if he weren't even angry.

"I just...I thought..."

"You thought what?" He was growing angrier with every second that ticked by.

"I just wanted...to get to know you, but Jimin--" A harsh laugh cut you off, the man not giving you a second to get your complete thoughts out.

"Get to know me? What? So I could like you? Are you that desperate for people to like you that you have to be a little fucking creep and go through peoples shit?" He badgered you, asking questions that truly weren't meant to be answered. "I really don't see what they fucking like about you. You're a pest, you're nothing and I could go my whole life never seeing your pathetic face around me or my friends again,"

No matter how much his words cut you or how badly your eyes began to sting with tears, you still wanted to ask him one question.

"Where's your mom?"

He fell silent at that, staring down at where you still sat on his bed. Then, with terrifying stealth, he was in front of you. You could feel his breath fan your face from how close he was, his nose brushing yours and it could definitely be mistaken as him moving to kiss you if it weren't for the very apparent rage burning in his eyes.

"You..." He growled, his jaw clenching angrily. "You don't ever speak about my mother, do you understand?"

"But Jimin--" Again he cut you off, but this time he was violently grabbing you by the arm and hauling you to your feet.

You whimpered at his tight grip, reaching to push him away but his hold on you was much too strong. He was holding you by your upper arms and brought you close to him again.

"Do you," He breathed and you were sure you had never seen someone so angry. "understand me?"

When you failed to answer, he roughly shook you -- making you cry out. You couldn't understand how to boy you knew as a child could be this mean, cruel man.

"You're pathetic," He hissed, finally making the tears fall from your eyes. He simply laughed, finally releasing and stepping back. "Don't think crying is going to make me pity you,"

"J-Just listen, please," You choked out, sniffling softly when he scoffed.

"Get the fuck out of my home," He left no room for argument and you turned on your heel as fast as you could.

When you got downstairs, everyone but Taehyung was passed out. When he saw the tears falling down your cheeks and heard the little sobs come from your lips, he jumped up in surprise.

"______!"

"I'm leaving," You whispered, giving no other information as you grabbed your coat.

As you went to step out the door, he grabbed your arm -- where Jimin had been holding you earlier and you hissed. Taehyung quickly let go but didn't back off.

"What happened?"

"Don't worry about it, it was my fault," You whispered, stepping out and shutting the door behind you before Taehyung could say anything more.

As you laid in bed a couple nights later, you couldn't help but wonder what happened to Jimin. What had turned him into such an angry, volatile person that he was now. Then you thought about how he had responded to your question about his mother -- he had gotten so angry. He was such a mama's boy when you knew him, positively clinging to his mother skirt and holding her hand every chance he got.

Your thoughts were disrupted by your doorbell ringing. It wasn't too late but it was still past a courteous hour. You simply slid on an oversized cardigan that was sitting on a chair in the corner of your room.

You wished you could pretend to see Taehyung standing there, a sheepish smile on his face as he saw you. He had been blowing up your phone since that party, trying to fix what Jimin had done but you hadn't bothered answering him. It had only been a matter of time until he would show up -- and there he was.

"Hi..." You sighed at his small voice, like he was worried you would send him away. As much as you didn't want to face this problem, you didn't have the heart to send him back home. So you let him in.

It was when you attempted to offer him a drink that he opened the conversational door.

"Jimin's not a bad guy," He suddenly said, making you frown.

"Maybe not to his friends," You replied fiddling with the hem of your shorts.

"L-Look, he was mean I know!" He cried, taking one of your hands in his. "And he had no right to touch you like he did, but he's really not a bad guy. He's just temperamental and he's got some problems but --"

"What happened to him?"

"What do you mean?"

"To make him such...such an angry person?" Taehyung paused, seeming to not know how to go about responding to that question.

"It's really not my place to tell you," He finally settled on and you sighed. You should have anticipated that. As much as Taehyung wanted to redeem his best friend, he would never go about telling his secrets.

"I understand," You replied. "Well thank you for coming to talk to me Tae, but it's late and I really should get to bed,"

"_____,"

"It's okay, I'm not mad about it," You reassured, smiling when Taehyung's shoulders relaxed.

You never thought to expect that just the next evening, you would be meeting Jimin once again.

You had been asked to stay later to water the flowers and plants as Kyungok had a family emergency to attend to so you were left to lock up. However, just as you stepped out of the shop to begin your trek home, there was a terrible commotion from the small alleyway beside the shop. You weren’t going to investigate, simply planning on ignoring it and going home.

It seems fate wasn’t too keen on letting that happen because before you knew it you were sprawled on the pavement with a scraped knee and elbow.

“Oh shit!” A familiar voice had you looking around to investigate only to see the wide eyes of Park Jimin. “Are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah, I think so…” You muttered, dusting yourself off and shakily standing up. When you met his gaze, you were unsurprised to see nothing in them -- like being here was a chore. “What the hell was that about?”

“Got into a bit of scuffle, nothing to worry about,” He shrugged, shoving his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“Over what?”

“Don’t worry about it,” He growled, glaring at you.

“Well I feel it’s my business when you’ve literally made me bleed, you jerk,” You grumbled, your words reminding you of the burning sting in your knee and elbow. When he didn’t reply, you scoffed and turned your back on him -- ready to walk away.

“Where the hell are you going?” He snapped, heavy footsteps following after you.

“Don’t worry about it!” You mocked, which seemed to only aggravate him more because he groaned behind you. “Stop following me!”

“Why? Does it annoy you?” He sounded much too pleased with himself, he was teasing you.

When you didn’t reply, the two of you fell into silence. If it hadn’t been for his heavy boot-clad footsteps behind you, you could have been mistaken that he was gone. He didn’t speak up again for another several minutes; asking why we were at the beach. At that, you froze and looked around, coming to the realization that you were in the place from that summer.

“This is…”

“I’m going home,” Jimin’s voice had lost all teasing tone it once had, and was instead empty and monotonous.

“Wait,” You grabbed his arm, halting him from moving.

“Let me go, I wanna go home,” He snapped.

“I know,”

“You know?” He scoffed, turning to look at you now. “What the hell do you mean you know?”

“I know why you don’t want to be here,”

“Shut up,” He snarled, ripping his arm from your grasp. “You don’t know shit!”

“Yes I do!” You cried, grappling onto him again. “When you were 11, you spent a summer here with your mom in one of the little beach houses down there!”

“What?” He softened immediately at your words, furrowing his brows together. “How did you know about that?”

“You were next door to me and my mom, we hung out all summer together,” You supplied, giving a sad smile.

“You’re lying, there’s no way…”

“I taught you to make flower crowns and you kissed me -- it was my first kiss,” Slowly, his look of disbelieving turned into one of shock.

“_____...her name...your name...and your mom--”

“Sooyoung,” You supplied, smiling when he softened completely.

“How can I really believe you?”

“I have a picture…” You pulled out your phone and went to your gallery -- the glare from your screen making you squint. “Here,”

It was a picture you’d asked your mom to send you after you found out about Jimin. You had asked for it just to make sure. When you showed it to Jimin -- just a picture of you and him holding hands on the porch of his beat house, he smiled. You swear Jimin had never smiled at anything you’d ever said or done and it filled you with a fluttery giddy feeling.

Then, the smile disappeared.

“She died…” He whispered, still staring at that picture. “About 2 months after you left, there was an accident -- dead on arrival,”

Before you knew what you were doing, you were pulling him in for a hug. He was warm and he smelled just like that vanilla candle that was once burning in his room. His shoulders shook as he sobbed into your shoulder, holding you tight as you consoled him.

“I was so lonely, all I could think about was how that summer was the happiest I’d been -- with you and Mom,” He stuttered for air as he spoke. “I’m so sorry I’ve been so horrible to you -- to everyone. I was just so...angry. I still am. I miss her so much, _____,”

“I know, Jimin,” You whispered, reaching up to gently stroke his hair, making him sigh. “I forgive you,”

“R-Really?” He whimpered.

“Yeah,” You pulled back lightly, getting a look at his teary eyes and trembling lips. You suddenly realized he had a little scrape on his cheek that was starting to cause his eye to bruise. “Come to mine, let’s get cleaned up and we can talk, okay?”

Once comfortably situated on your couch, you took a moment to clean your own scapes before sitting down to carefully disinfect and take care of Jimin’s so his cheek wouldn’t scar.

Neither of you realized how close your faces were together until you felt his breath fanning across your lips. When you met his eyes, you were shocked by the intensity in them; they were dark but help such deep emotion. Then, as if moving in slow motion, he leaned in to meet your lips in a kiss.

Your eyes fluttered closed, easily losing yourself in the kiss. His fingers cupped your jaw, angling your head so he could deepen the kiss. He lead it, completely dominating you but you truly couldn't care less as he let his tongue sneak into your mouth.

He pulled away, resting his forehead against yours and sighing.

"You're a better kisser than you were," His words had you laughing, playfully shoving his shoulder and in turn making him crack a smile.

"I was 10!"

"Well, you've gotten better," He teased, leaning in to kiss you once again.

You smiled into the kiss, your hands wandering up his chest to his shoulders to push his jacket off his shoulders. You could feel his body stiffen at the action and you could only hope he got the hint you were trying to convey. He seemed to, as he pulled away and tightening his grip on your chin.

"Are you sure you wanna do that, babygirl?" His tone was dark, full of dominant promise.

"Y-Yeah," You breathed, already feeling your body heating up at the way he was looking at you.

"Where's your bedroom?" You felt your heart speed up as you stood up, taking his hand in yours to lead down the hallway to your bedroom.

Despite the fact he had treated you horribly, you could see it in him that he was falling back into what he once was. Perhaps knowing who you were had helped taped some of the wounds his mother's death had left in him. You were from a happy part of his life and he appreciated that.

Before you could sit down on your bed, he caught you by the waist, fingers curiously inching your t-shirt up. In a flurry, you stripped your shirt off and let it flutter to the ground silently. His lips were on your neck in an instant, nipping and licking along the skin of your shoulder and collarbone. His fingers were rough, callused as he caressed you -- wanting to touch every inch of your skin that he could.

Before he could reach your bra to take it off, you were pushing his shirt up to pull over his head. The material scattered his hair, fluffing it up and making it messier than it already was. As you looked at his body, you noticed a small tattoo located on his ribs. Tracing your fingers over the ink, you noticed they were dates -- no doubt dates to do with his mother. He smiled sadly at you for a split second before pulling you into another kiss.

"Let me suck you off?" You asked, biting your lip as you gazed up at him through your lashed. He groaned, nodding his consent before you took a seat on the edge of the bed. You were at just the right height now. Mentally, you thanked the gods that you wouldn't end up with rug burn on your knees over this.

The veins in his hands bulged through the skin as he pulled his belt from the loops and dropped it on the floor -- the carpet muffling the noise. He flicked open the button, the zipper easily coming down afterwards and you felt yourself gush into your panties when you noticed he was bare beneath them.

"No underwear?" You asked softly, earning a cocky smirk from him.

"Go ahead and touch, princess,"

Truth be told, he wasn't spectacularly long but he was thick in a way they you knew would leave a delicious burn in the wake of him stretching you open. Precum beaded at the tip and as you wrapped your fingers around him, you could feel his pulse through the velvety soft skin.

Leaning your head down, you swirled your tongue around the pretty pink head of him. He groaned, fingers finding their way into your hair -- a soothing sting settling in your scalp at the force he was holding you. The deeper you took him into your mouth, the harder he got. His precum was sweet, hot, and a little bitter and you were eager to taste more on your tongue. Glancing up at him through your lashes, you were met with the sight of his lidded eyes and thick bottom lip tucked between his teeth. He was tense, eyes paying close attention as you sucked him off.

"Take me all the way," He ordered, using his grip on your hair to urge you to take him until he was edging his way down your throat, past your gag reflex.

He groaned, cussing explicitly when your nose met his pelvis. Your eyes were watering, a few stray tears tipping past your lash line. It felt dirty when his hand, abandoning its anchor in your hair to cup your throat where it was stretching and bulging as it contained his thick cock.

After several seconds, you pulled up with a soft gasp, spit dribbling past your lips and down your chin as you did so.

"Messy baby," He cooed, wiping some off your chin only to pop the digit in his mouth with a sigh. "Let me see your pretty tits, yeah?"

As he leaned over you, you took his cock into your mouth again. He groaned, but continued on with his task of undoing the clasp of your bra. When it was freed, he tossed the fabric away and stood up straight to gaze at your bare breasts.

"Will you let me fuck your throat, baby?" He asked, reaching down to cup one of your breasts as you continued to suck him off. You nodded, refusing to free your mouth of him to answer. He muttered a little praise of 'good girl' before bracing himself to begin thrusting into your mouth.

You relaxed your throat, getting used to the first few shallow thrusts -- just a little taste of what was to come.

When your hands gripped his thighs, it was like a band snapping and then he was fucking your throat. He held nothing back, making you choke and gag around him. He groaned, feeling how tight and hot your throat was around him and it only turned into a moan when you cupped his ball -- full and heavy against your palm.

"Dirty girl," He chuckled, bangs matted to his forehead with sweat.

By the time he was done, everything was messy with your spit and he was sticky with sweat. Once you caught your breath, you leaned forward to press a light kiss to the tip of him -- his precum and your own saliva mixing together.

"Fuck, you're so good," He cooed, picking up his disposed shirt to clean up your mouth and chest where you had drooled down onto.

"Thank you," You replied, a little smirk on your lips which made him chuckle.

"How about I pay you back, hm? For being such a good girl," You nodded, already feeling excited. "Lay back for me,"

You did as he asked with no hesitation, getting yourself comfortable in your pillows. He stripped off his jeans, leaving him bare before you while also giving you a little show. You decided to follow his lead to save a little work and by the time he crawled onto the bed you were naked as well.

He didn't waste a single second situating himself between your thighs -- spreading your thighs for him to expose your wet cunt to his greedy eyes. His lips were swollen from being bitten but they felt phenomenal capturing your clit between them.

"Mmm, such a pretty little cunt, baby," He cooed after releasing the bud, swirling his tongue around it to make you whine. "You're so sensitive too huh? When was the last time you let someone eat your pussy?"

"I-I--" You gasped when his tongue found its way into your pulsing hole -- moaning at your taste.

"Answer me," He growled, voice muffled.

"I don't remember! A-A little while," You admitted, feeling your face burn at the admission of not getting laid in so long.

"Hmm, how sad," He smirked, introducing two fingers he used to spread your folds. "A cunt this pretty should be eaten every day, I think,"

You face burned further at his words -- he had such a dirty mouth.

He didn't seem to expect an answer this time because he dove back in -- eating you out like a man starved. You were almost close already; maybe you were needy than you had thought. Or perhaps it was just Jimin's impact on your body.

"Ah, if you're gonna cum," He stopped, grinning wolfishly before laying beside you on the bed. "it's gonna be on my cock,"

Taking the hint, you straddled his hips. He gripped his own cock, helping you lower yourself down onto him. He hadn't prepared your entrance very well so there was quite a sting but fuck did it feel good. When you bottomed down, you were were trembling.

"Go ahead, baby," He encouraged, holding your waist as you eagerly started to ride him.

You whined, gripping his hands on your body as the pleasure began to rise once more -- remnants of your denied orgasm.

"Close?" He breathed, abandoning his hold on one of your sides to find your clit with his deft thumb. Circling the throbbing, swollen little bud had you flying over the edge into your orgasm.

"Fuck!" You cried, tossing your head back as your body trembled. Jimin groaned beneath you, feeling the way your cunt tried to milk him of his own orgasm -- which he expertly held back.

As you settled down, panting and trembling calming but you were still speared on his cock.

"Such a good girl," He cooed, sitting up to press a kiss to your lips before your world suddenly flipped and you found yourself on your back with Jimin on top of you.

He was fucking you again -- hips moving at a breakneck speed as the head of his cock nailed your g-spot with crippling accuracy. You were still so sensitive from your orgasm that you couldn't help but claw at his back -- probably drawing blood. He didn't seem to mind, however, as the prick of pain only seemed to spur him on.

You were thrown into an orgasm once again, your eyes rolling back as you cried out his name. This time Jimin couldn't hold his orgasm back -- spilling into you with a soft whine into your chest.

The everything was still. It felt like an hour passed before he moved, pulling out of you and getting up.

You felt oddly cold without him near. He came out of the bathroom with a towel -- one that was in the cabinet. You didn't really peg Jimin as one to really care enough to clean up his partner but tonight had opened a lot of doors of unexpectedness from him.

"Can I crash here tonight?" He asked suddenly as he cleaned the last bit of his cum off your thighs.

"Yeah of course," You replied easily, feeling giddy from having him with you for longer.

He crawled into bed with you -- neither of you really caring or feeling like stripping the bed or putting clothes on. It was a problem for tomorrow.

Then, under the blanket of darkness after he turned out the light, he pulled you close to his body.

"I don't wanna lose you, ____," He whispered, his breath fanning across your face.

"Me either," You also whispered, any louder feeling wrong.

"I hope you'll stay by my side and forgive me for how I've treated you,"

"I already do, Jimin," You kissed his cheek, smiling at him through the darkness. "And I'm not going to go anywhere, I promise,"

"Do you remember that summer, it was the last day and we both knew we weren't going to see each other again," He started, tightening his hold on you. "And we were making wishes by blowing dandelions?"

"Yeah, I remember,"

"I wished that I would be as happy as I was then again one day," He confessed, nuzzling you softly. "And I think I'm that road now,"

#bts smut #jimin smut #bts scenarios #jimin scenarios #bts imagines #jimin imagines #bts reactions #jimin reactions #jimin preferences #bts preferences #bts fanfic #jimin fanfic

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babbushka · 5 years ago

Note

so i havent really seen any prompts like this before with Clyde but would you be willing to write a Clyde Logan x reader where reader is maybe a nurse or a receptionist at the jail and Clyde (while he's serving time) falls in love with her over his 90 days?? and then once he's out he asks her out or something like that? up to you of course! im in love with your writing, blows me away how amazing it is :)

Oh my dear anon thank you for submitting this prompt! I’m sorry it took so long to write, I hope you enjoy this small ficlet

While I give to you

And you give to me

True love, true love

So on and on

It will always be

True love, true love.

It’s been two weeks. Two weeks into his sentence, and he’s already got a crush. He curses to himself in his bunk, in the dark, his arm tucked behind his head as he stares at the ceilin’.

He couldn’t help it though, how could he? How could he when you were so kind to him, so nice. He ain’t never had a girl so pretty be so nice to him. You with your soft eyes and your shiny hair, your crooked bottom teeth that had him blushin’ whenever your smile showed ‘em off. He lies awake in his bunk when really he needs all the sleep he can get, lies awake and thinks of you.

He’d met you in the clinic at the jail, during one of his check-ups about his arm. You hadn’t even looked at him funny when he walked in, nearly bumped his head on the damn doorway, bein’ so tall and all. All you had done was ask if he was alright, told him to mind his height next time, but you had done it with a smile.

He still thinks about that smile.

For you and I have a guardian angel

On high with nothing to do

But to give to you

And to give to me

Love forever true.

He thinks about it a month later,when the two of you talk more and more, when he has Joe arrange his work to bein the clinic, so he can be nearer you. You always slip him some mints to suck on – not because his breath smells bad or nothin’! Just because it’s the closest thing to somethin’ special you could give him, and he treasures them.He’s got a whole mess of them hidden under his pillow, doesn’t dare eat ‘em.

You talk about whatever book he’s found in the jail’s library, talk about home. Friends and family outside the jail,you ain’t got none. He always frowns at that, thinks that ain’t right, a girl like you who is like sunshine cuttin’ through a cloudy day, that ain’t right that you’re all alone out in the world.

Well, he thinks, maybe you ain’t alone.

He’s fallin’ in love with you,this he knows. And what a dangerous game that is, lovin’ someone like you,someone good and true. He ain’t even sure if you care about him the same way,ain’t even sure his advances would be returned.

He ain’t sure when he mentions off-handedly that he likes Patsy Cline, and you beam up at him that so do you.He ain’t sure when the next time he’s workin’ there, there’s a small bluetooth speaker on your desk at the reception area of the clinic, he ain’t sure if it’sf or him that you softly play her greatest hits.

He ain’t sure still two months later, when he’s gettin’ on ready to be released, starin’ at his reflection in the dirty jail bathroom mirror, workin’ up the courage to ask you out. He ain’t sure but this is the last chance, it’s now or never. He don’t plan on comin’ round to the jail ever again, if he can help it, his life of crime is over.

He repeats that over and over in the bathroom, his life of crime is over.

Someone in one of the stalls chuckles sarcastically, as if to say, “yeah right,” but Clyde only grits his teeth.

He shakes the man’s mood away like water of a duck’s back, and washes his hand, combs his hair just so. He wants to look nice, wants to look good for you. He had trimmed his goatee the night before, and was dressed in his regular clothes, the same ones they had taken him away in.

They weren’t washed or nothin’, and he thanked his lucky stars he hadn’t been picked up off the streets, hadn’t been covered in sweat or dirt. He’s wearing his nice court button down and jeans, and he’s hesitant in the doorway of the clinic, careful to mind his height so he doesn’t smack his head on the door frame.

“Hey! Man you clean up really good.” Your smile lights him up from his nose to his toes, but it ain’t as bright as it normally is. You’re standing up right away, from your spot behind the desk, clutching a clipboard to your chest. “Today’s the big day, huh?”

“You don’t seem too happy about it.” Clyde remarks, looks at the way there’s a sadness in your pretty eyes, and you duck your head, tear your gaze away from his.

“I’m not.” You chuckle, and Clydecan just barely hear ya when you whisper, “But that’s because I’m selfish.”

“Huh?” He’s stunned! Hadn’t prepared for this. He had thought you’d be thrilled for him, but when you look back up at him with tears in your eyes, his heart sinks.

“I’m just.” You try, but the attempt at the words only brings more tears, and your chin is wobblin’ as your hands only flex and clench on the clipboard, like they’d rather be holdin’ something else, someone else. “I’m gonna miss ya real bad, Clyde.”

When you smile at him this time,it breaks Clyde’s heart in damn near two, until he realizes that this was his chance, this was his whole opportunity.

He chews his lip, his hand curls into a nervous fist at his side before runnin’ it through his hair.

“You don’t have to,” He says,tries to work up the courage, tries to puff out his chest and be brave, has to be brave for you, “(Y/N), sweetheart, I was wonderin’ if maybe you’d – ”

“Yes.” You cut him off right away, and he can only blink.

“Yes?” He has to hear it again,has to hear you clarify it for him.

“Yes.” You nod, from your spot behind the counter, and Clyde wants to cheer, wants to hoot and holler and pick ya up and twirl ya around, because fuck he’d been so nervous, had been in love with you for so so so long.

“I had a whole speech.” He says instead, the smallest quirk of a bashful smile not able to steer clear from his lips.

“You can give it to me tomorrow.”You laugh, as a few tears slip down your cheek. You wipe them away with your palm, and then wipe your palm on your scrubs, as you scribble something on the back of a business card that’s on your clipboard.

“Tomorrow?” Clyde’s eyebrows shoot up, feeling elated, feeling even more so when you hand him the card.

“When you pick me up.” You whisper, your fingers brushing with his long enough to almost be like you’re holdin’ his hand, even though that ain’t allowed, even though you could get in trouble, you look up at him through wet lashes and blush, “You can kiss me then, too.”

The tips of his ears go bright red at the thought of kissin’ you, before a great big grin spreads across his features. You’re smilin’ too, and he happily twirls the card in between his fingers as he walks away, as he catches your thrilled eyes for one last time as a prisoner.

He can’t wait to look at you tomorrow, as a free man.

But to give to you

And to give to me

Love forever true

Love forever true…

#reader insert #clyde logan x reader #clyde x reader #clyde logan #logan lucky #Anonymous #cowboy answers

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jeserai · 5 years ago

Text

burnt sugar (1/8)

Adora frowns down at her phone and skims through the proposition again: someone is willing to pay whatever amount to take a girl to a family dinner. The price is negotiable, and it starts out at $1,000. There’s a phone number listed, too, but that’s the only way to contact...whoever it is.

or, catra needs a date and adora needs money

Adora blinks the sleep from her eyes as the customer in front of her finally finishes paying and leaves; she shuffles up to the register and haphazardly drops her miniature mountain of ramen and soda onto the counter. It’s definitely not the healthiest meal she’s ever had, and she knows she’ll have to go to the gym extra early before classes tomorrow to make up for it, but it’s already later than late and she’s exhausted. Today seemed extra long even if it was just the same as usual: first her morning exercise, then classes, fencing practice, and an evening shift at Bright Moon—it’d all left her feeling more drained than usual, and she hasn’t even touched her homework yet.

The cashier looks just as out of it as Adora feels, scanning all of her items and barely containing a huge yawn as she does so. “Swipe or insert your card when you’re ready,” she says, and Adora pulls her card out from her phone case, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she swipes it. She’s pretty sure she has enough money, but she doesn’t get paid until Friday, and—

The machine beeps a harsh decline, and Adora feels the back of her neck begin to heat up as she swipes her card again. She’s hoping to god that it was just the machine, that it’s just a dumb mistake, but her card is declined again and god, she’s never been more embarrassed in her life. Luckily, when she takes a quick glance behind her, no one is in line, and Adora gives the cashier her most winning smile as she says, “Can I just—I have to add money to my card, it’ll take just a minute.”

The cashier—Mermista, her name tag reads—shrugs and pulls her phone from her pocket. “Sure, whatever, I’m stuck here until midnight anyway,” she grumbles, and Adora gives her another apologetic smile before pulling out her phone and texting her group chat.

Ado-ra (22:08): can someone send me $$$ real quick i mat the store and my card got declined :(

B♥w (22:08): D: of course and don’t worry about paying back !!

Glim! (22:09): tell us if you need more !!

Almost immediately, Adora’s phone lights up with two notifications—Bow and Glimmer have both sent her money, and before she can just about melt into a little puddle of embarrassment, she loads the money onto her card and slides it into the machine again. This time, the transaction goes through.

Ado-ra (22:13): thank u sm :(((( i love u guys

B♥w (22:14): awww we love u too!!

“Ugh, how do you get someone to stop trying to ask you out?” Mermista groans suddenly; she’s scowling at her phone, and as Adora watches, she huffs and puts it facedown on the counter. “He won’t stop texting me.”

“Maybe just tell him you’re not interested?”

Mermista looks away, still frowning, but this time, it seems forced, like she’s trying to bite back a softer expression. “I can’t do that, he’s…”

Ah. What would Glimmer and Bow say here? “I don’t really have much experience with relationships, but can you try to just talk to him about it? If he really likes you, he should understand if you need more time, or a smaller gesture, or whatever else you need. And if he doesn’t understand that, then he doesn’t deserve you.”

Mermista glances up, startled, a soft little smile melting the stoniness of her face. “That’s so sweet, thank you. Here, let me—” she cuts herself off to bag Adora’s things, slipping in a chocolate bar despite Adora’s weak protests.

Glim! (22:23): what time are you coming home?

Ado-ra (22:23): leaving the store now :) im just talking to the casheir, shes really nice

B♥w (22:23): hurry home we miss u

"Thank you again," Mermista says as Adora grabs her bags, "really. I'm going to try talking to him tomorrow."

"You don't have to thank me—I really do hope it goes well with him!" Adora's phone buzzes in her pocket, but she ignores it in favor of giving Mermista another big smile again. "Tell me how it goes if I see you again, okay?"

"Sure, I guess, yeah." But she's still smiling, and she even waves when Adora heads out the door.

Ado-ra (22:25): omw now :)

The walk from the convenience store to her apartment is blessedly short; one of the perks of living so close to campus is that everything is in such close proximity—a double blessing since Bow is the only one with a car. If she’s being honest with herself, Adora doesn’t really mind the walk, tells herself it’s extra training, and really, it is. It also gives her time to think, time to be alone—because as much as she loves Bow and Glimmer, she needs time by herself, time to be quiet and reflect and just be. Tonight’s going to be another long night, though. Adora sighs and pockets her phone, hefts her bag up, and begins to walk home.

When she gets home, Bow is lying curled up on the couch, headphones in as he focuses on his laptop, typing something—probably the paper he’s been procrastinating. He flashes Adora a bright smile when he sees her, but otherwise doesn’t say anything, and Adora waves and leaves him be, heading straight to her room and dumping her stuff at the end of her bed. She’s tempted to go straight to sleep, but Adora forces herself to go shower, to heat up her ramen, to sit at their tiny table with her textbooks and laptop. She forces herself to work until Glimmer gently shakes her awake, sleep in her eyes and softness on her lips. The clock on the other side of the room glares out 3:06am and Adora lets herself be tugged and pushed into her bed with not even a single protest.

When she wakes up, it’s six minutes before her alarm is supposed to go off, and Adora spends them staring at the ceiling, mentally going through her day. She’ll walk to the gym, breakfast—a granola bar and a smoothie—in hand, and once at the gym, she’ll do a mile warmup run, work her legs for half an hour, and her core for another half hour, then do a mile cooldown run. Bow will pick her up at around 8 for classes, then she’ll go to practice, and since it’s Friday, she doesn't have work, so she’ll only go to the gym again for another hour. Maybe she’ll head to the library afterwards and do her work there so she won’t fall asleep, or—

Adora’s phone interrupts her thoughts, and with a heavy sigh, she sits up and gets ready to start the day, moving quietly because she knows that Glimmer and Bow are still sleeping. Right before she heads out, she grabs the lunch Bow had made her yesterday and starts the coffee machine for Glimmer, then grabs her stuff and heads to the gym.

The best thing about being at the gym so early—6:15am, an ungodly hour, according to her roommates—is that no one else is there, and Adora works out in peace, losing herself in her ragged breaths and the sweat dripping down her forehead, the pounding of her heartbeat and the familiar burn of her muscles being pushed further, further. She’s always enjoyed working out: the discipline it takes, the soreness the day after, seeing the slow and steady progress—but the gym has become something of her own private space. Glimmer practically breaks out into hives when Adora even thinks about working out, and while Bow enjoys exercise, just half of a session with Adora had him ready to quit. So the gym is hers, now.

When Adora finally takes a break for water, she grabs her phone as well to see a few messages from the group chat.

B♥w (6:49): sooo

B♥w (6:50): guess what I found!

Ado-ra (7:03): what?

B♥w (7:04): [link shared]

B♥w (7:04): read it!!!

Ado-ra (7:05): will after i finish up here :)

B♥w (7:06): :(((

B♥w (7:07): fine…..

Adora allows herself one more moment to rest, then goes back to work, and this time, she doesn’t stop until Bow calls out her name from the doorway of the gym. From there, it’s their usual routine: while Adora takes a quick shower and changes into her school clothes, he puts away all of the equipment she’d used, then talks to the girl at the desk until Adora comes out, ready to go. Then they both say goodbye to Perfuma and head out to Glimmer’s car.

“So,” Bow drags out the word, “did you read it?”

“Oh!” Adora digs her phone out of her pocket and finds the link again, glancing over to see Bow glancing back at her in quick bursts as he drives. “I’ll read it now.”

That earns her a satisfied smile, and as Bow fiddles with the radio, Adora reads the article he’s sent her. And it’s—”What, is this a joke?”

“I don’t think so, and even if it is, what’s the worst that can happen? You meet them someplace public and say no. Me and Glimmer can even go too, just in case.”

“You’re not doing it for nothing,” Bow reasons, “you have to go to the dinner to get the money anyway.”

“The base price is $1,000, Bow! That much money for one dinner? Whoever this is, they have to be crazy!”

“Maybe they’re just rich—” Bow cuts himself off as he pulls into the parking lot, and Adora lets him concentrate as he parks before he finishes with, “Rich people do things like that, don’t they?”

Adora frowns and shakes her head, uses the moments spent getting out of the car to think. “I don’t know, Bow…” and to placate him, she promises, “I’ll think about it, though.”

“You don’t have to do it, I’m not trying to pressure you or anything! I just thought it wouldn’t hurt to at least tell you about it, y’know?”

And yeah, Adora knows. “I promise I’ll think about it.”

And think about it she does, all through her classes, all through fencing practice. She thinks about the ludocrity of the situation, thinks about how much money they’re offering. Thinks about Bow’s offer to go along with her to the meeting, thinks about how it’s just one dinner. Thinks about her card being declined, and having to ask her roommates for money. And she decides.

Adora manages to wait until she’s halfway to the gym to text the number.

(next)

#she ra #shera #catradora #my writing #dont let this flop (pensive emoji)#burnt sugar

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mythical-song-wolf · 6 years ago

Text

BNHA Angst Week

Day 7: Rose // Time

White day was fast approaching and normally, after being in a relationship for so long, Izuku would be excited for that day. Because he gets to pamper and get pampered by his Kacchan.

But he can’t do that.

Why?

Because he’s back a good decade or so before he even started dating Katsuki. He’s back in middle school, a good month before the sludge villain and meeting All Might. Over a good year before he and Kacchan finally clear up that misunderstanding that was— is simmering between them since they were kids.

But Deku just wants his Kacchan, even if only for a moment. He’s knows it’s selfish. He knows it’s wrong. He knows he shouldn’t be doing things. But... the heart wants what the heart wants and Deku doesn’t know if he’ll be okay if he doesn’t at least do this.

Izuku goes out to buy somethings. He’ll need to be careful when buying it. Hopefully Kacchan doesn’t see him, he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he sees those beautiful crimson eyes again.

Katsuki stops over to class, irritated and patience waning since he woke up.

First his mom had to shout him awake, saying that her and the old man will be out to get stuff for White day and all that shit.

Second, he was reminded fucking White day was coming up. The day he was planning on asking that nerd... Before that bastard... No. He shouldn’t think of it. There’s no use thinking about it when he’s been set back by literal years. Him and Deku aren’t a thing yet.

Deku is still the derogatory nickname he used for Izuku for years. It’s not the name of a hero just yet.

Deku, to Katsuki at this point in the timeline, is a useless, Quirkless, weak pebble on the side of the road that Katsuki should not pay mind to.

But Katsuki knows better. He’s a goddamn time traveller, of course he would know better. He knows Deku has a better heart than most Pro Heroes. He knows Deku would sacrifice himself again and again and again to save someone. He knows Deku is stronger than anyone he’s ever met. He knows Deku is the name of a hero, of a Symbol of Hope.

He knows that Deku is the name that brought— will bring hope in people’s hearts. Brought— bring hope in the hearts of Ochako, Tenya, Shouto, Eri, Sir Fucking Nighteye, and various other people.

But to him, Deku is the name of the guy that was always chasing after him. The guy he’s known since they were kids. And while they were never on friendly terms before U.A.. They always had a strange synergy with each other. When they didn’t think about it they moved seamlessly and in tandem with the other.

The first time it happen outside of training and life threatening situations is after they had long since started dating and moved into the same apartment. They were making dinner one night and they weaved and moved around perfectly with the other, passing things along and moving as easily as they would in a battle. The realization that they didn’t say a word to each other during the entire time they were cooking hit them when they were eating as one of them started talking.

They paused, before they broke out in a fit of giggles. A warm fluttering in their hearts as they smiled and laughed so hard that their cheeks started to hurt and they could both barely breathe.

After they calmed down, Izuku sighed, looking at Katsuki with his shining green eyes, “I love you...” He smiled at him with his eyes shining like emeralds reflecting the colour of the sea during sunset.

Katsuki smiled back, “I love you too, dork,” He chuckled, “Now, let’s eat?”

Izuku chuckled, before nodding, “Yeah.”

Katsuki’s heart flutters at the memory, before it painfully coils. He can’t have that now. He can’t have that for a long, long time. He won’t wake up to Izuku’s cute freckled mug in the morning. He won’t come home to cuddle with Izuku on the couch after a rough day. He won’t have the cheesy but nice walks down the park or beach during sunset. He won’t have Izuku looking at him like he’s... no, Izuku already looks up to him. He just won’t have Izuku looking at him the way he looks at Izuku right now.

Katsuki goes out. He doesn’t want to— shouldn’t be home alone right now. He might do something stupid like break a window or make a dent in the wall.

Izuku was pacing through the market, a checklist in hand and a hood over his head.

“Let’s see, I need some chocolate, cream... cocoa powder... caramel... food colouring...” Izuku mutters, as he walks into a grocery store and weaves through the aisles of the store. Briefly glancing up to check the shelves for the item’s he’s looking for and picking out what he needs.

Izuku hums once he’s done, “Perfect! Now I just need to do— Oof!” He bumps into another person while turning the corner.

“Sorry—” The voice sounds familiar... probably one of his classmates... great.

Izuku shakes his head, “No, it’s fin—” Izuku looks up see pale blonde hair and crimson red eyes. His heart stops. No.

“De- Deku...” Kacchan mutters, hesitant and unsure, sounding nothing like the boy Izuku remembers him to be at this time. But Izuku doesn’t notice over the own ache in his heart.

Izuku swallows down the fear in his system, “Ka- Kacchan...”

The two just stand there for a few moments, staring at each other. As if they’re trying to find something that they have already accepted it isn’t there.

He’s not yours yet.

I know.

“We- Well, Kacchan, I- I need to go,” Izuku stutters, hopefully Katsuki doesn’t notice the crack in his voice, taking a step back before walking around Katsuki.

Katsuki breaks out of his haze when Izuku leaves, he sighs and combs a hand through his hair.

Good job, shithead. You scared him.

Shut up... He... he isn’t the... he’s not my Izuku.

Not yet.

Katsuki shakes his head, ignoring the stupidly hopeful whispers in his brain telling him to woo Izuku now and not make the same mistakes as before. He wants to, too. Oh how he fucking wants to. How much he wants to change how he treated Izuku. How much he wants to change how terrible they both were at communicating properly. How... he so badly wants to change how Izuku looks at him, with his pretty eyes staring at him like a rabbit sensing a predator. How Izuku seems to freeze the moment they lock eyes, unmoving and scared. Scared of Katsuki.

Katsuki shakes his head, telling his brain to stop, before he continues buying stuff from the store with the occasional sight of Deku’s fluff green hair.

Katsuki sees the flower display and spots a suisen.

Maybe I should...

Izuku was currently sleeping the warmth of his bed, a warm figure pressed against his back holding him close.

Izuku instinctually snuggles up closer to them, “Kacchan...”

“Mhm,” Katsuki grumbles, nuzzling his face into Izuku’s hair.

A part of Izuku’s brain jolts into awareness, you were sent back. Kacchan shouldn’t be here.

Another part, the selfish, foolish, hopeful part of his brain hopes that it’s a lies and wants this to be real. To just have Katsuki with him, right now. Let him have this. Please.

A soft voice whispers in Izuku’s eat, the warmth of their breath making Izuku shiver, “Deku... I’m not there... wake up, Deku, wake up... I’m not there, bunny.”

“Mhm,” Izuku grumbles in protest, “But you’re right here.” Izuku grabs onto Katsuki’s hand that rests on his chest.

Katsuki sighs, and it’s heavy, tired, and wary, “I’m sorry... but... I’m not. He didn’t send me back... Only you... time for you to wake up, Deku... Izuku, wake up.”

Izuku feels himself trembling, clutching onto the hand holding him close, “Please, let me have this,” Izuku begs, as he feels tears roll down his cheeks, “Just let me have him back, just this one moment. Please.”

Katsuki doesn’t say anything, but the warmth from his form is long gone now that Izuku is aware.

“I’m sorry, bunny.” Izuku can feel Katsuki’s presence fading, he turns to see Katsuki actually fading away like an illusion or a dream.

“Please... no... Kacchan... Katsuki... don’t leave me...” Izuku tries to grab some part of the fading figure.

“Please, Izuku, love, don’t cry. Please.” Katsuki places his palm on Izuku’s cheek and wipes away a few tears. Izuku leans into his touch and places his own palm over Katsuki’s, as he fades away and Izuku is left all alone.

When White Day came, Izuku and Katsuki went by the day as normal. Izuku with his isolation and notes, and Katsuki with his showboating. Neither interacting unless provoked by one of their classmates.

Lunch rolls by and the moment everyone leaves, Izuku places something on Katsuki’s desk.

Katsuki returns with his lackeys near the end of lunch to spot a box of chocolate on his desk with flowers. A white rose, a primrose, a red camellia, and a gladiolus. Katsuki looks at the box and the small bouquet for a moment, before glancing around to try and find Deku.

It couldn’t have... no. It’s probably some other idiot... but did this happen in the first timeline? Maybe I’m going a bit insane... but it could’ve only have been him...

Katsuki gently places the box and flowers in his bag.

The school day has ended, and Izuku isn’t surprised he didn’t receive anything from anyone. But it still hurts. A foolish and selfish part of him had hoped that Katsuki was sent back with him and would give him something, but Izuku knows better than that.

Upon opening his locker, a small note falls out.

‘Happy White Day, bunny~ <3

Love, your’s truly’

Bunny... Only Katsuki has ever...

Izuku’s heart flutters at the possibility.

It... it’s never bad to hope... right?

Inside his locker he finds a few more things, a small arrangement of flowers and a box of chocolates. A daffodil, a white camellia, a yellow camellia, a yellow tulip, and a blue iris that stands out amongst the brighter colours.

Izuku walks home holding the flowers and the box of chocolates close to his heart.

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha-angst-week #bnha angst week #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #bakumido #bakudeku #izukatsu #katsudeku #deku #kacchan #off the clock

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somebodyhelpthenotdeadfreds · 6 years ago

Note

So. *cracks knuckes* I hear you have an au idea for Gary Green. Could you maybe talk about it a bit more? *crosses fingers* (im terrible im sorry)

*crackles knuckles* settle down around the fire, I’ll spin a half-formed tale that is slowly growing into a real fic. Inspiration comes from my lovely Discord server and @agentmarymargaretskitz who encourages all my cracky AUs.

So John, Ava, and Gary are out on a mission for the Legends. This is after the whole ‘good and evil’ talk (sidenote: forever bitter that that was not an ONSCREEN conversation but i digress) so the tension between the two is a real ‘will they/won’t they’ mixed with the sexual tension as always. Ava doesn’t want to be here, but somebody needs to be a responsible adult.

Eventually, after *insert bullshit magic yadadada* Gary turns a corner and BAM.

“Gary, what happened?” Ava yells after hearing him yelp.“I - think I ran into a wall,” Gary calls back, rubbing his forehead, touching over his temples because damn, that’s what the pain feels like but - there’s no wall. There’s nothing. It just feels like a migraine.

He goes home that night and the headache has spread to a neck and back ache, as well. Oh well, probably pulled a muscle, it’ll be fine.

For some reason, he eats five eggs (scrambled a little raw) for breakfast and the ache is dull, humming under his skin. His mouth actually waters as Mona passes by his work desk with food for the creatures, he’s - starving.

Nate doesn’t question his eating of an entire can of chicken liver pate, plain, at his desk.

The headache’s back, and it’s worse.

It’s soothed slightly by a rare steak he makes at home, but now it feels like he’s buzzing with energy as he lays drained on the couch.

“I - think I have an iron deficiency,” he murmurs to nobody, as per usual.

There’s a purr from the back of his brain: No.

It’s all he remembers before falling asleep.

For the next three days, he’s basically been eating nothing but protein yet he’s never felt more tired in his life. Nobody says a thing to him.“Sorry Green, got the last 8 O’Clock,” McNeil laughs at him, the treacherous Keriug already filling up his cup. Gary rolls his eyes, but he finds he can’t roll them back forward again as words escape his mouth“You touch my coffee again, I’ll rip your lungs out and feed them to you.”

His eyes suddenly roll forward again and he blinks a few times before giving a high, awkward laugh. at McNeil’s startled expression.

“You - you know me, not the same without morning coffee!” He takes whatever’s in the communal pot and sits back down at his desk, shaking his head and blinking a few more times. He gets through until lunch until he - suddenly blacks out.

He wakes up again in the afternoon, in the empty bathroom on the -3rd floor that nobody ever uses, covered in blood. That’s enough to make him panic, never mind the three empty pint containers of blood, a fourth in his hand and all over his mouth.

He stumbles out of the stall and washes his face in the sink, and when he looks up his reflection is smirking with coal-black eyes. He rubs his eyes and turns away, that purring voice pressing behind his temple.

Hello.

“Uh, hi. What - who are you?” he asks, because damn his ingrained politeness.A friend.“I - I don't believe that.”Gary. All I want to do is help you.“...could you - not, do that,” Gary muttered, cleaning the messy stall.It’s taken longer to gain any control over you than normal humans.“...sorry?”Pure souls are hard to break.“I’m - not - a virgin, if that’s what you mean.”Oh, I know. You think about it a lot.“Don’t - don’t read my thoughts!”Too late. You’re tired, let me - drive. Close your eyes, let me-“No! Shut up!” Gary says too loudly out loud as he walks into the break room. He grabs a danish and scurries back out of there to avoid confrontation.

And instead of that, he walks right into John Constantine, looking ruggedly handsome (like always dammit Gary shut up) while he’s got crumbs all over his lips and dark circles under his eyes.“Hey, Squire,” John smirks with a cigarette between his lips even if the building’s nonsmoking. Gary opens his mouth to respond back when that awful migraine, like claws sinking into his frontal lobe, returns and he winces.“Sorry, migraines,” he explains in a rush, heading back to his desk without another look his way.

It’s too much to deal with, he opens the door to Ava’s office, knowing he looks like a wreak and she’s - so annoyed to see him, it’s so obvious, and he tries to explain, Ava, Boss-Lady, I’m - I’m sick, I’m sick, something’s wrong - “something’s wr-”“Gary, just go home,” Ava says curtly, going back to her meeting with the Legends. He lets the door close and heads on the walk home alone, only his feet carry him somewhere else.

When he’s finally back in his apartment, eating through two packages of raw lamb, the voice comes back.They’re mean to you.“I - they’re my friends, I was - I was being annoying.”Friends shouldn’t do that.“You - what do you know about friends? Where - where are you from?”Hell.“Okay. Okay, that’s normal. Why - why are you inside of me? Oh, no, that came out wrong.”Reasons you can’t know, not yet.“...cool. Look - look, don’t bother possessing me. Look at me, I’m worthless. I trip over my own carpet four times a week sober.”I...can help.“I don’t want to hurt anyone.”People deserve it.“I don’t need to hurt them, though.”Humans are dumb, Gary. All of them. You, not so much.

It’s weird, to have this conversation with essentially your own brain as you speak out loud and then have words and voice that aren’t yours come out of your mouth.

Give me a chance to take control. I’ll give you what you want, then you can let me what what I want, the demon says. (Gary’s calling him Joe, because his vocal chords cannot replicate the name that swirled in his brain)

“...you get one day to convince me,” Gary states firmly, and no sooner do those words leave his lips then his vision goes black.

When he wakes up, it’s to everything he’s ever wanted in the world. The A/C’s never on the fritz, the neighbors are quiet, the shower always has hot water, the apartment’s bigger, and there’s - a blonde warlock in his bed that kisses him before Gary has to leave for work.

He has his OWN office at work, his own Keriug, he’s employee of the month and number one agent, all the bells and whistles and everyone is actually glad to see him and greet him, even Ava, even all the Legends. Everything is so goddamn perfect, especially a visit from said blonde warlock in the afternoon, in his lap in his own office, smiling that rare real smile.

And then John Constantine says to him, Gary Green: “I love you.”

Gary sits straight up from where’s he’s been out cold on his couch, gasping for air and he doesn’t know why, he just knows his heart is racing because -

What’s wrong? It’s what you want.“It’s not,” Gary whispers, lying but not lying, picking up his phone. “I don’t want lies. I don’t want to be lied to.”

It’s 6 o’clock. He’s been MIA an entire day and a half. There’s a single message, from Ava, at two in the afternoon: Gary, why aren’t you at work? You need to call if you can’t come in, remember.

That’s it. Nothing about his well-being, his whereabouts, about him.

Gary throws his phone into the opposite armchair and cries into a stupid throw pillow he got as a stupid giveaway at an office supply store. Not even a housewarming pillow.

There’s a hesitant warmth, just under the degree of burning, under the skin of his aching shoulder, spreading down his back.I want to help.

“How?”Whatever you need.

The knock at the door and the British accented “Gary, love, you awake?” sends Gary scrambling to shove bloody wrappers under the couch, quickly rinsing his face off before answering the door even as the voice hisses Noooot Constantine. “Hush,” Gary whispers harshly before throwing the door open.

John takes in Gary’s red-tinged eyes, dark circles beneath those, the general paleness and exhaustion. “Weren’t around today.”

“Sick,” Gary offers quickly. “Think - I have a bug. I’m fine, don’t - your’e not worried, duh, just - thanks, thank you for - checking in.”

There’s something - wrong, John can’t put a finger on it, but just nods in agreement. There’s too long a pause before the goodbyes, enough time for an embrace or a kiss, but neither offers either option. The door just closes between them afterwards.

I said humans were dumb, Gary.“Not - not all humans.”You aren’t. John Constantine, of all the humans, is the dumbest.“Hey, no, don’t say that stuff.”Yes, because you want to fuck-“Do - NO, that’s not why-”I can read your thoughts. Humans usually don’t break out of those fantasies like what I put you in. Why did you?“...it’s not real.”The warmth wraps around his arm, if that were possible. This is.Gary actually smiled. “...yeah, it is.”

Apparently, it’s easy to get used to possession, so long as your demon stays well-fed. Bloodlust can be avoided as long as there is actual blood to consume. Gary knows this butchery too well by the end of the first two weeks.

We should kill him, the demon tells Gary when McNeil steals the last K-cup again.“No, I said we wouldn’t do that....unless we had a reason.” Truth be told, he’s probably on borrowed time before he finally kills, he knows that. So far, the blood’s working to keep him satisfied.You hate him. That’s a reason. Or the man downstairs for being loud. We can rip his lungs out.“Not gonna happen.”

Ava’s in a very important business meeting with Mr. Heywood, and Gary’s leading the Legends to the waiting room outside her office to wait it out.

“So what’s this about?” Sara asks him.“Boss lady won’t let me say, you know that.”“Mick.”Oh god, Gary thinks before his vision tints into black tones.Before Mick can grab Gary, all he sees are Gary’s eyes visibly turning solid black for a brief moment before he has one hand in Mick’s collar and holding him up against the wall and snarling, “I said to WAIT.”

Then he shifts back and looks terrified for a second, dropping Mick down and offering sheepishly with a laugh, “I - sorry, no coffee. Did I mention I’ve been working out? Gotta run!”

He’s out of there, “What was that?”He was bothering you.“How did I do that?”I did it.

Then Gary’s flicking his hand to the right and McNeil’s chair spins out of control and he falls out of it onto the linoleum, precious coffee spilling everywhere.

Gary smiles despite himself. “We can’t do this a lot.”But we can do it?“...we can do it sometimes.”

For more, stay tuned for the upcoming fic!!!! Whew, I hope you like this NOVELLA that I answered you with!

#gary green #legends of tomorrow #constangreen #this is going to be a long fic #conxjob

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honeylikewords · 6 years ago

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Ok so what if a cute dog comes up to Benny while he's just waking up from his nap and the dog starts licking his face and Benny gets so happy and excited and then hears a voice shouting for the dog to come back but he doesn't want the dog to go & then the voice comes closer, apologizing, so he looks up and can't get his eyes off this beautiful angel standing in front of him and then his brain kicks in, doesn't want her to be afraid of him but she isn't at all, and asks him to grab coffee ok bye

oh my god you guys are So Good at this

Thank You, Here I Go AGAIN WITH THE LONG REPLIES

Benny has a lot of sleep issues, ranging from an inability to sleep at night to difficulty staying asleep to random bouts of sleep during the day. His sleep schedule is frenetic at best and literally non-existent at worst. So when he does manage to get some sleep, he’s not too picky about when and where he’s napping, so long as he isn’t gonna get arrested or beat up for sleeping there.

He ends up dozing off under a tree in the city park one warm, sunny day: the tree is cooly shaded but the summer air is nice and cozy, so he drifts off easily, laying on his back in the grass. He’s slept in significantly less comfortable places; this is, by far, one of the nicest naps he’s had in a while.

He falls into a good sleep; not deep enough to dream, but deep enough to rest and restore him. He’s almost getting to the depth of sleep where he’ll start having his dreams when he hears snuffling and something wet slathering over his face, and he bolts awake, snorting.

A handsome-looking German Shepherd is standing over him, tongue lolling out with excitement. The dog licks at Benny’s cheek again and barks happily, running a few feet away. He wants to play, Benny realizes.

Benny stands and grins, beaming at the dog.

“You wan’ me to chase you, boy?”

The dog barks.

“Well, get ready, ‘cause Benny’s comin’!”

He chases the dog and they wrestle one another, the dog yipping excitedly and Benny laughing. He can’t remember the last time he got to be this close to a good dog like this, much less be allowed to play with it. It’s a great feeling to be back in his swing of things, chasing the dog and playfully growling at it, his face almost sore from how much he’s smiling.

When he hears a distant call of “Dodger!” Benny looks up and realizes that a very, very pretty girl has been chasing after the both of them. She’s a little winded, her face glowing with a sheen of sweat from her exertion. Benny thinks it’s very beautiful indeed.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry,” she huffs, leaping forward to clip her leash to the dog’s collar. “Dodger got away from me when I was trying to get his leash untangled and I really hope he didn’t do anything--”

Benny’s stunned silent. She’s... wow. Okay. That’s a very, very beautiful woman and he has no idea what to do. It’s a lot to take in all at once. He tries to fumble for words but becomes keenly aware of himself: a tall, large, dirty homeless man sleeping in a park. He must look frightful. He can only imagine how scared she must be approaching him, and it aches him down to his core when he realizes that there’s just something wrong with him that puts out this aura of unpleasantness.

He wishes he was normal and healthy and handsome instead of filthy and foul and unnatural. He gazes up at her, awestruck, until he realizes that the best thing he can do is try to be calm and make her feel less threatened.

“Aw, nah, lady,” Benny smiles, ruffling Dodger’s ears. “He’s great.”

“I saw him run at you when you were sleeping, and I am so, so sorry, he never does that! But... it seems like he likes you,” giggles the girl. Benny feels Dodger lick his face and he laughs, nodding his head.

It’s odd, because the way she’s talking to him doesn’t seem to be disgusted: it seems like she’s legitimately upset that she might have upset him, in turn. He sees genuine concern in her expression, and that stuns Benny.

“Seems like he does, yeah.”

“I, um... He’s only a year old,” she says. “Still got a lot of that puppy energy in him. I’m really sorry...”

“Nah. I love it. I used to have a dog like this. I named ‘im Yankee. Dodger... Kinda funny, huh? L.A. Dodgers and New York Yankees, both of ‘em German Sheps.”

Benny laughs a little and notices her smiling at him, her eyes accepting and warm in a way he’s intoxicated by. He finds girls prettiest when they have that certain glimmer of kindness about them; a woman can be hot but ice cold inside, but the most beautiful of all women are the ones who treat him nicely. And man, she seems like the kinda person whose soul glows with that niceness and whose features reflect it.

She sits down on the grass next to him and Dodger sits between them, laying his head in her lap and his hindquarters in Benny’s lap. They both pet Dodger and get to talking; first about baseball, then about the weather, then about other things. Personal things. Things Benny’s forgotten he likes talking about.

They talk for what feels like only moments but turns into hours: before either of them know it, the sun is setting and its last rays are long, orange-red feathers falling to the ground. Her phone chirps and she checks it, gasping at the time.

“Is it that late already?”

“Oh, shit, you gotta be somewhere? I didn’t mean to keep ya, I’m so sorry--”

“No, no, Benny, it’s fine,” she says, smiling at him sweetly. “I just gotta get home for dinner and stuff. But, here, lemme just--”

She rummages in her purse and pulls out a notepad with pawprints on it, making Benny smile. Of course she has something that kitschy and cute. Of course. She also finds a little pink pen with a flowery print all along its casing, and as she writes on the pad, Benny sighs to himself.

He’s gonna remember her for a long, long time. And she’s gonna forget all about him. He leans his chin on his palm and watches her as she tears the note off the pad and folds it neatly, then hands it to him.

“My number,” she says. “So you can call and we can, I dunno, get coffee? Or dinner? This was... really fun. And I like you, Benny.”

“You... like me?”

“Yeah!” She laughs her clear laugh and meets his eyes again, completely genuine. “What’s not to like?”

He can think of a complete grocery list of things to hate in him, but he bites his tongue. After all, he does wanna see her again...

Benny tucks the note in his pocket and walks the girl and Dodger back to the pathway that leads out of the park, the two of them making quiet conversation in the last few minutes they have together. As she departs, Benny waves, then calls out to her, making her pause.

“Hey!” When she smiles, Benny feels a rise in his courage. “I will definitely call you!”

“Tonight?”

“Tonight.”

“I’ll be waiting!”

And she walks off, looking over her shoulder one last time to wave as she and Dodger disappear around a corner, leaving Benny alone, smiling to himself like a loon.

Yeah, he thinks to himself, he could really get used to this kinda life.

#messages #gif warning #benny lambo #banzai #a line in the sand #im.................unstoppable #Anonymous

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etherealrj · 7 years ago

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can you do a fic like 5 times richie and eddie get caught? i am a sucker for those.

all the small things

A/N im sorry it took me so long by long I mean ive had it for almost two months in think, my depression has once again defeated my weak ass but here is this. I’m sorry if this isn’t what you had in mind nonnie !

literally no dialogue and pretty much unedited

masterlist

The first time they got caught didn’t come at all a surprise to Eddie. He knew making out in the Denbrough bathroom when all their friends were ‘asleep’ just one room over was never going to end well. But to his surprise it was but the youngest member of the household who had caught them in the act.

Eddie and Richie were the only two losers who had survived the movie night. Richie more so than Eddie who was only really awake because of the annoying six foot being who stood in front of him, wouldn’t shut up . Eddie had gotten up to brush his teeth, and Richie being Richie decided to follow the small boy into the pristine bathroom of the Denbrough residence.

Eddie glared at Richie’s reflection in the mirror, toothbrush in hand, eyebrow raised. Turning around to meet the face of the older boy, toothbrush now set aside, Eddie noticed a mischievous glint shining in the eye of the boy who never seems to slow down.

With his back against the edge of the white sink, Richie placed his hands upon Eddie's hips. He stared into the hazelnut coloured eyes of the taller boy, his own hands laid upon the collar of Richie’s dark shirt. Standing on the tips of his toes he brought his lips toward Richie’s own, waiting for the other boy to meet him halfway.

Richie’s palm lightly rested against Eddie’s jaw as he brought his own lips to meet his. Chapped lips collide with soft ones in a slow, tantalizing battle for dominance. Nothing was rushed, there was no tongue and no hideous amounts of saliva being swapped, just the tight reassuring press of Richie’s lips upon his own. Eddie had relaxed into Richie’s light hold and melted underneath the boy, with lips upon lips Eddie was floating within a dream.

That was until the two boys heard a quiet panicked shriek, making them break apart. Eddie felt his face flush as Richie glanced over his own shoulder toward the door, while Eddie hide his own face within Richie’s shirt.

Eddie felt Richie’s chest rumble, and heard the soft sounds of his quietened laughter before opening his big mouth and say,

“Hey Georgie, Bud. How about keeping a little secret for me, yeah?”

Richie and Eddie had a free period just before all the other Loser's had lunch, so as you could imagine, the secret couple were sat side by side, their backs against the wall and their legs underneath the picnic table, books splayed out in front of where Eddie sat. Their table was located on the outer side of the cafeteria, which meant they were pretty safe from any prying eyes other than the rest of the Loser's themselves.

Richie had one hand above the table, tapping his fingers against the metal of the bench top while Eddie had the opposite hand rested on the edge of his book. Surprisingly no words were passed between the two, and Eddie couldn't find it in his heart to tell Richie to stop tapping, he appreciated the effort the boy was putting in, as he knew he was trying his damn hardest to be quiet as possible so Eddie could finish the chapter in his history book without any interruption.

Every now and then Eddie would rub his thumb in circular motions against the back of Richie's hand. It always seemed to calm the boy because Eddie would take notice that the tapping had succeed, the air was quiet for a few moments before Richie couldn't contain it any longer, and the sound echoed Eddie's ears once again. Eddie didn't mind.

He liked the small moments they had while alone in public. They almost made him feel like they were an actual couple who weren't hiding their relationship from the world. Even if it was only just as small things such as holding hand underneath the lunch table.

Eddie turned to the last page in his textbook, as he heard the approaching noises of the rest of his friends. He bookmarked the page, knowing once they had arrived their was no hope in him actually finishing the page. Richie gave Eddie's hand a reassuring squeeze, making the smaller boy glance up to his face. Richie sent him a small smile as Eddie retracted his hand from the book and placed it on top of their already laced fingers. He felt Richie's gaze linger on him for a bit longer than necessary, not even the loud echo of Bev smacking her books down upon the metal table made him flinch away.

Eddie had directed his gaze to Bev now, her eyes were squinted in accusation, eyeing the unknown location if both Eddie and Richie's hands. Eddie noticed the appearance of Ben and Mike, who seemed to have trailed behind the fiery red haired girl. Eddie squeezed Richie's hand one last time before, unlacing his from Richie's low digits and placing them on top of the table top.

Bev would be lying if she said she didn't see the defeated look that flashed through Eddie's eyes, as his hands came back into her vision.

III

Ben had been waiting for Mike to show up at the Aladdin. It was a Friday night and he and Mike had made plans to see, 'Shakespeare In Love.’ None of the other Loser's would be making an appearance claiming the movie was all too 'lame and boring.' Allowing Ben to have had rolled his eyes at their accusations, but Mike being the nice guy he is, said he'd loved to watch it with him, claiming that he too had been interested (which Ben knew was a lie, but he took it anyway.)

So here he was, leaning against the edge of the building arms crossed over his chest, subconsciously hiding behind the side of the wall on the look out for his friend. He held the tickets tightly in his hand, as he carefully watched his surroundings afraid that Bower's and his gang was to show up at any second and beat the living shit out of him.

He saw Mike in the distance and let out a breath his didn't know he was holding in. As the taller boy approached, they greeted each other as Mike set his bike down beside Ben's own, after chaining them together they headed inside the cinema complex. Following the instructions of the valet, they headed down to the furthest cinema door, the room was black as they entered.

Movie had yet to begin, but they followed the seat numbers along and found their chairs, as they sat and made themselves comfortable, they spoke small talk amongst one another, speaking about Ben's newest art project, nothing too serious as they wouldn't want to get interrupted when the movie begins. But as Ben, had opened his mouth to tell Mike about his project and how he was nervous to ask Bev to be his subject, he felt a slap on his shoulder.

He glanced over to Mike who was staring past the boy with widened eyes, he followed his gaze over the aisle and two rows down and snorted. He through his head back in amusement and sunk down into his chair before whispering to Mike,

"Is that?" He questioned, gaze never leaving the two dark figures. He saw Mike nod from his peripheral vision before continuing, "And he has?" Mike nodded again before speaking,

"Yeah, that's uh- Yeah, That's definitely them." One aisle over and two rows down two polar opposite boys were sat.

Richie and Eddie seated, in the chairs closest to the wall, Richie's arm thrown around the back of Eddie's chair, his hand threaded through Eddie's short hair. The smaller boy sat with no usual complaints, head rested upon Richie's board shoulder, a half eaten popcorn sat in the middle of the two.

Mike and Ben, silently vowed they would never tell anyone about what they'd seen as they watch their two friends, stand hands loosely rested within one another, and they continued to watch as their hands separated when walking toward the exit of the cinema.

And it made Ben just a little sad.

Eddie had been staying the night at Richie's place over the weekend, his Mother had left town to visit his sick aunt and the poor boy hadn't wanted to be left alone in his own house and because he knew Richie's parents were never coherent enough to see what was going on he knew this was the perfect time to stay at Richie's.Without the overly large presence of his Mother within the walls of his family home, Eddie felt a whole lot more exposed than he ever had.

It was early Sunday morning and both boys were lying fast asleep, wrapped within Richie's covers. The sun shined through the partially opened curtains and beamed a small light across the floor of Richie's room and finishing at the small bag Eddie had brought over, containing his belongings. The smaller boys shoes laid neatly beside his backpack which was leant against the forever unused desk in Richie's room.

They had plans to meet up with the Loser's at the quarry at eight am sharp like every other weekend.

The Loser’s thought nothing of it when the time had become ten past eight, because knowing that Richie was always late, he had probably dragged Eddie down to get ice cream (a thing they still did that none of the other Loser's could quite understand) but as another twenty minutes had passed, Bill had begin to worry so he and the rest of the Loser's had split up in search of their unreliable friends.

Bev, Ben and Mike had headed toward town with the task of checking the ice cream shop, along with both the arcade and the chemist while Stan had made his way toward the Kaspbrak residence and Bill to the Tozier place. All with their own selected walkie talkies, as to be sure to keep in contact with one another.

As Bill walked along the driveway of the Tozier residence he had received a response from both Stan and Mike. Neither boys were at Eddie's place or the arcade. So he proceeded to make his way through the front door, (knowing that Richie's parents never locked the thing) he made his way up the stairs and toward the door at the end of the hall. The house was quiet, he heard no noises in sign that anyone other than himself was in habiting the dull house at this current moment. His hand landed on the doorknob and twisted, pushing open the door to Richie's disaster he calls a room.

Bill felt his breath hitch and a small smile spread across his lips at the scene in front of him. His two friends laid with limbs entangled within one another, Richie's arm rested around Eddie's shoulders, Eddie had thrown his arm across Richie's bare chest holding on for dear life at Richie’s spare hand. The blanket pulled up and rested just under Eddie's shoulder, leaving Richie bare chest on display, Bill couldn't even pretend to be disgusted as he knew the oversized shirt Eddie was wearing was very much so not his own. It only made Bill smile at the couple even more.

The two boys looked peaceful, lying in each other's embrace. Bill not wanting to disturb them he slowly backed out of the bedroom, quietly shutting the door in the process before speaking into his walkie talkie as he walked back down the stairs.

He told his friends that he had found the two boys while reassuring them that they were fine. He informed the Loser's that they wouldn't be seeing neither Eddie or Richie for the rest of the day, because something important had come up. It was a small white lie but it was one he was willing to tell.

Richie stood leant up against the locker beside Stan's own, he watched as the Jewish boy pulled his books from the open compartment. Droning on about something Stan wasn't paying all too much attention to, occasionally rolling his eyes in response to something he’d heard. When all of a sudden Richie was off, Stan heard him a yell out a brief "i'll see you in math' but as he turned around to ask him where he was going, he saw the last glimpse of the boy racing around the corner and then the hallway felt all too empty, the halls full of students seemingly oblivious to the Trashmouth’s disappearance. It was as if he was never even there.

Stan was slightly more concerned than he let on, hoping the boy he had been best friends with was okay. Slamming his lockers shut, books in hand, he pushed through the crowd following what he assumed was Richie’s path. There was nothing much down this corridor of the school, three classrooms and lockers lining the walls in between, and a staff bathroom right at the end.

Stan glanced in through the windows of each classroom, noting each and every one was void of any human inhabitants. He couldn’t clutching his books to his chest as he approached the last door on the right.

He had hoped, Richie at this moment was not getting his head flushed down the toilet by Henry and Stan was casually strolling in to join the party. He stood face to face with the ugly blue door, glancing down the empty hallway before reaching his hand and pulling down the door handle. He pushed open the door a smidge and glanced in the tiled room, two toilet cubicles lined the back wall, hand drys on the one across from Stan and too his left a large mirror spread across the wall, sinks sat beneath them.

Leaning forward into the sanitary room just a little more, preparing himself to check the suspiciously quiet cubicles for his curly headed friend. A muffled laugh had halted his progress, narrowing his eyes he glanced to his left. Stan rested his hand over his mouth, hopefully muffling the unexpected gasped he had let out as he stared directly at the back of Richie Tozier’s head.

The taller boy was leaning over, pressing his own Trashmouth lips into the ones of an unknown figure. All Stan was able to see was the small legs wrapped around Richie's waist as the taller boy leant over the figure who was sat on the bench. Stan glanced at the long white socks wrapped around Richie's black shirt, narrowing his eyes sensing a familiar sensation at the sight of the socks.

Stan flinched as Richie leant down to kiss along the jaw of the figure. If he were in any other place Stan would have slapped himself for being dumb, because of course it’s Eddie. Who the hell else would want to purposely kiss Richie Tozier. He glanced back at the couple Eddie’s head thrown back slightly, eyes shut with his hands laced within Richie’s hair. Stan heard laughter from Richie muffled into Eddie’s neck. Richie slowly stepped back, covering Eddie’s figure once again from Stan’s view. He watched as the taller boy lean his head forward, Stan figured he was resting his forehead against Eddie’s own.

Stan stepped backwards to make his way back into the hall, he slowly shuts the door in hopes to not create any obnoxious noise for the rusty screws. One step before entering the hall, he heard soft words echo off the walls of the small space he was leaving behind.

I love you Eddie.

I love you too.

Stan clenched his eyes shut feeling as if his own heart was going to melt. For the rest of the day Stan had to force away the small smile from his face whenever he saw the pair together.

+ VI

Eddie's 18th birthday just so happened to be the night of prom. None of the Loser's had dates, and we're all going stag or as far as they were aware. It had come time for the Loser's to enter the building but they were still missing two members. Nothing had changed the past five years, Richie still showed up late to everything and Eddie was always the poor soul who got dragged along.

Bev was leant against the tree, cigarette in hand, taking long drags from the cancer stick, her other hand rested on her hip, which was covered by the material of pale pink homemade prom dress which finished just below her knee. Mike and Bill stood to the side passing a football between themselves, while Stan and Ben rested against the bike racks, small conversation passing between the two.

The night was young, students were still piling their way into the school gym through the front doors of the school. The parking lot was full of shitty cars all alike, and students all seemingly come together for one of the most important night of their young lives.

The loud noise of an engine entered the ears of the present Loser’s, the stereo from said truck was blaring The Summer of 69’ by Bryan Adams as the vehicle rounded the corner. Bev dropped her cigarette to the grass, standing on it with the twist of her foot as she walked to stand adjacent to the bike racks. Not long after Mike and BIll followed and the car came to a stop, in the only available parking spot across from where the Loser’s were stood.

Within the car, Richie held Eddie’s hand across the console of the car, hand over the gear stick as he put the vehicle in park. Richie glanced over at Eddie nodding in question as the own smaller boy took a deep breathe before returning the nod. He smiled and bit his lip as Richie let go of his hand. The taller boy, jump down from the driver's seat and jogged around the back of his truck, throwing a short, quick wave in the Loser’s direction. Rounding the passage side, standing before the door, hand on the handle, he exhaled a deep breath pulling down the handle and step out of the way for the door.

Richie was wearing a long bright pink button up shirt, tucked into some black slacks (which Eddie made him wear) suit jacket in hand and black worn out converse on his feet. He extended his hand for Eddie take, as the smaller boy jumped down from the seat. Richie watched the smaller boy, stepped down on the concrete. Cladded form head to toe, in formal attire. Black slacks, paired with a black blazer and bright pink corsage pinned onto the blazers right pocket.

Richie held onto Eddie’s right hand with his left hand, Eddie shutting the door with his other. Eddie squeezed Richie's hand as the begun to walk toward the location of the Loser’s.

Stan snorted as he spotted the pair, shaking his head, a smile spread across his face. Bev let out a low whistle, Bill, Ben and Mike clapped their hands and let out a cheer at the sight. The couple approached their friends, Richie hand squeezed Eddie’s own as they came to a stop before them. He ducked his head down and pressed a chaste kiss upon Eddie’s forehead. The smaller boy had been staring at his own feet, he felt his face flush a the contact of Richie’s lips and shyly glanced up to meet the eyes of his friends.

Eddie felt his nerves dissipates when he saw the smiles on every single one of their friends faces, a warm feeling entered his chest when he watched Bev open her mouth and say,

“Come on Loser’s, lets go fuck up prom.”

A/N 10 points to Gryffindor if u can spot where tf I gave up

IMPORTANT-ish // I fucked up my tag list so now like the loving someone taglist and the normal one have merged so if ur in it and don't want to be tagged in everything I posted just tell me and ill delete youuu x

taglist : @colinmorgay @its-ya-girl-mercy @tastes-like-cherry-coke @netzoflix @bitch-its-youknowwho @prkrptr @ladycataztrophe @whoisjjacob @eddies-inhaler @stenbroughh @eddierichietozier @scienceyyy @randvmfandoms @letgoofmygreggo @liadfh @smol-and-annoying @trashmouthloser @acourtofbooks @richiedenbroughs @reddie-sett-go @spooksbeverly @puddlewing @howellhxlic @mypenguinlife @livsig @weirdkawaiitentacles @denbruhh @toshitophchan @january-emb3rs @httpsalien @richiedenbroughs @ri-chietozier @richietoaster @birdbabestan @goshdarndiddlyheck @trash-baby-edge-lord @eddierichietozier @sassyclassysatan @darklovies @anothergoldenratio @exceededexpectations @loserichie @get-fcking-reddie @sseolace @just-an-akward-fangirl

#reddie #richie tozier #reddie imagine #eddie kaspbrak #eddie kaspbrak/richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak x richie tozier #finn wolfhard #jack dylan grazer #reddie oneshot #reddie au #richie tozier imagine #eddie kaspbrak imagine #the losers club #it movie #it movie 2017

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elfgremlin · 3 years ago

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like i know im spoiling a fic i may very well never post but i just keep reading this one scene between kylie's mom and drack and it's just so cute to me it makes me wanna cry and i have in fact cried

(just wanna provide context without 394508345 more paragraphs, first paragraph is Janelle, her mom, talking to Sam about issues while in the bathroom of kylie's hospital room)

“Jesus – You’re right. They’re like her second family at this point! Well, right after the Tempest crew, I suppose. It’s – They’re bound to want to keep her as the rightful human Pathfinder. Am I right or what?” Janelle paused, as if waiting for him to reply. She cleared her throat. “God, the mere fact that this is happening is making my blood fucking boil. He’s right lucky that we’re not able to be alone in the same room, or else I -”

“Who you talkin’ to?” Drack’s voice nearly made her jump out of her skin, the steady hiss of hydraulics echoing through the room effectively silencing her innate ranting.

A soft gasp escaped her as she turned around from the sink, green eyes wide and a breath caught in her chest as she met his gaze. “I – What?”

“You were talkin’ to yourself again, weren’t you?” A haughty chuckle rumbled deep within his chest, footsteps heavy and laden as he walked past her to the sink. “Knew ru’shan got that shit from one of you. Was certain it was from that shit-stain of her dad, though.”

“Oh, no – I was talking to Sam.” Janelle cleared her throat as he simply hummed, stepping aside to let him peer at himself in the reflection of the lightly-fogged mirror. She looked away, a soft sigh leaving her. “Is she awake yet?”

“Not yet. Been letting her sleep in lately, don’t wanna make her lose out of any of the sleep she lost from the shitstorm that was Meridian – Especially after popping out two kids like it was nothing.”

“Oh, I agree.”

“Despite them lookin’ weirdly angara, I’d say they almost resemble quarians more with the mix of her and her boy-toy. What do you think?”

“I’m amazed that you found a wildly accurate way to describe them. I knew they looked familiar, like a species back from the Milky Way, but I wasn’t certain. Honestly, the fact that they look like a near-perfect mix of the two of them is… Crazy.”

“I know. Took me hours of thinkin’ while tryin’ to sleep on that fuckin’, damned couch. Didn’t know that light blue mixed with… Shit, well, Jaal’s stupidly galaxy-like eyes would make violet for the girl. That’s a fuckin’ wonder in and of itself.”

“Sadhaana.”

“Yeah, Sadie.”

“You’ve already given her a nickname?”

“Liam started it, callin’ her a… Shit, callin’ her sadypants ‘cause she’s always cryin’. Told him that’s what babies do, but he ignored me. Ru’shan was the one who coined Sadie after that, givin’ him a dirty look and tellin’ him to shove off with nicknaming her kids.”

“Really?” Janelle snorted, before letting out a wistful sigh. “That’s my girl.”

“Isn’t it? She’s already started calling the boy Ham ‘cause he’s wanting to eat all the time. Takes after her old man.”

“Oh, Virohaan. I would’ve given him something like… I don’t know, Han, or… Iro, maybe?”

“I would’ve called him Handy.”

A giddy giggle escaped her. “God, you’re just as shitty as Liam in the nickname department. Though, I do love ru’shan. I’ve heard you call Kesh that a few times, too. What does it mean?”

“Child of my blood.”

That made her heart skip a beat. “I…” Words almost left her, near-gratitude threatening to overwhelm her the longer she stared at him. The thought of him helping her child, the light of her life, through probably the toughest part of her life yet, made her want to cry. “That’s… Another thing, Drack.”

“What?”

“I… I wanted to thank you for taking care of Kylie. While me and James were… Tied up, I suppose, with… Medical issues, if you will.”

“Fancy way of sayin’ that the two of you were dead. And it’s nothin’, really. Saw myself in this little kid who was tryin’ to fill big shoes that didn’t fit her tiny feet while everyone else ravaged her like a starved adhi and went, ‘Shit, that’s a little too familiar for my liking’. So, it was easy for me to take her under my wings, keep her sane.”

“I know, but you didn’t have to do that. I mean, you definitely don’t seem like the kinda guy who would even want to do that.”

He huffed. “Listen, I saw a kid who was strugglin’ to find herself, to find her purpose and way in life, and I knew I had to help. I didn’t do it to be thanked, and I certainly didn’t do it for any kinda gratitude to be given to my old ass.”

“It wasn’t easy.”

“Damn right it wasn’t, but I’d do it all over again. I’d stay up every fucking night with her all over again, talkin’ her out of doin’ dumb shit to herself, with zero hesitation.” A trembling breath left him at the thought, a sadness hanging in his eyes. “Shit, this kid deserves the world, Jane.”

“She’s seen so much shit for only twenty-two – She’s seen more shit than I’ve seen in over seven-hundred plus years of living, and that’s only scrapin’ the surface of what I’ve known of her. From what she’s told me of her past, ‘fore Andromeda? Fuck, she’s been in a constant state of suffering since leaving the goddamn womb. She deserves to be happy.”

“She does. It’s no wonder she considers you her dad. I’d always wondered why she had, but I see why, now. You have this little fire that burns in your eyes whenever you talk about her, and your face lights up, even. It’s almost like when you talk about Kesh.”

“Hell yeah. And I’m damn lucky and damn proud to have that title.”

“Good.”

“Y’know, I was fuckin’ terrified when you came back in the picture. I’d just gotten through jumpin’ through all those fuckin’ hoops to legally adopt her, despite that department not even running on the Nexus yet. Had to get Kesh to do some undercover, off-the-grid work, and that was a fuckin’ nightmare.”

“And then you just…” He scoffed. “Waltz in, sweep her up in your arms, and twirl her around your finger like it was nothin’. Seein’ her light up with you in the room… I was jealous, I guess. I mean, don’t get me wrong – Wasn’t about to throw a stink that her mom turned out to be alive, but…”

“I know – I wanted to apologize for that, too.” Janelle cleared her throat, before a hesitant hand reached up to rest on his shoulder. He tensed. “I would never steal something like that from anyone, even if it involves my own daughter seeing someone else as her family. I’m just… I’m really, really grateful that you’ve done this for her. You’re such a softy.”

Drack chuckled. “I know. Don’t let anyone else know, though, or I’ll have to kill you.”

“Deal.”

#txt #long /#ch: kylie ryder #fic: astra inclinant sed non obligant

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dont-sneeze · 8 years ago

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I don’t know what this is but I hope you enjoy?

The year was 1899. It was two a.m. in Manhattan, New York. Because it was night and every sane person was sleeping, there wasn’t much noise compared to the daytime. It was quiet now, nice for thinking and reflecting. During the daytime, one could see and hear the cry of newsboys all over the city, trying to make their living on half a penny a paper-

“Yeah, yeah they all know the plot, C.” Jack commented leaning against the railing of his rooftop penthouse. “That’s why they’re reading this in the first place. You can just go on with the Angst so we can get it over with.”

“Jack.” Crutchie limped up next to him. “Be nice. She’s trying out a new style of writing. You should be honored she even writes about us. After all, we are just a bunch of nobody’s to the rest of the world.”

“Yeah, well I don’t appreciate all she’s put us through. It hurts. Over and over and over.”

“But it always turns out happy in the end. That’s why we’re still here.” Crutchie reached over and took Jack’s hand.

Jack tried to keep the scowl on his face, but it didn’t stay for long once he looked at Crutchies hopeful expression. “Okay, okay fine.” Crutchie beamed at Jack as he rolled his eyes. “Go on with your story, C. Just try not to break us too much. Can you at least tell us why we’re still awake so late at night?”

The stars seemed to sparkle with amusement. Jack didn’t even notice that Crutchie had sat back down over the ledge, his legs dangling off while looking into the empty streets below. Jack looked down at the brown haired boy, wondering-

“Woah, hang on. Since when was Crutchies hair brown?” Jack interrupted. “It’s blond. And when the sun shines on it, it’s like the sun is kissing it. It’s beautiful. Not brown. That’s my hair, dark and dirty and gross. Crutchie has the best hair in the world.” Jack placed his hand on Crutchies shoulder, causing Crutchie to look over at him. “Crutchie is the best in the world.” He whispered, looking into Crutchies eyes deeply.

“Jack, you’re getting sappy.” Crutchie looked up. “I think she’s just basing me off Andy Richardson in this story.”

“And who is she basing me off of? I got four options who all have the same hair color. There’s no other way to describe me.” He complained, making Crutchie chuckle.

“Just let her tell the story. Maybe this one will be happy?”

“You gazing out into the night sky at two in the morning can’t be happy.”

“Shush! Let her write it!”

Jack sighed heavily, looking down at his brother. “Okay, but you feeling okay? You haven’t slept in a few days.”

“I’m fine, Jack.” Crutchie pulled his legs up to his chest. “Really. I just can’t sleep.”

“I know. But you need sleep.” Jack sat down next to Crutchie.

“I’m so tired, Jack. But every time I close my eyes, I see that awful place and suddenly I’m wide awake again because I can’t go back there.”

“You won’t, I promise you won’t ever go back there. I know how awful it is, and I won’t let anything like that happen to you again. Never. I refuse to let it happen. Hear me?”

“You can’t promise that.”

“Well, not if C keeps writing these stories. Then no. I can’t promise it. I’d like to promise it; but that’s not possible, knowing the way she writes.”

“Jack, why are you focusing on the negative here?” Crutchie tried to reach out and take his hand.

Jack shook his head, and pulled his hand away, standing up. “Because that’s what 90% of her stories are! For some reason she rips us apart-”

“But only to bring us together again, closer than before.”

“But at what price, Crutch? I’m terrified that one of these days she’s gonna write something that will keep us apart from each other, and I can’t take that right now. Crutch, I just… I can’t bear the through of loosing you, not again!”

“You won’t loose me, Jack.”

“But I already did once. When you died… I fell apart. I couldn’t sleep or eat or breathe… and I can’t take that again.”

“She’s not gonna make me die again, Jack. That was a one time thing when she needed to put her emotions on you.”

“Oh yeah, because I deserve all this?”

“Jack, stop. She’s going through a hard time in her life right now. Maybe she just likes seeing us overcome struggle? Maybe she wants to tell herself that if we can do it, she can too.”

“I… maybe.” Jack seemed to take this idea in a new way. He almost half smiled. “So we’re helping her build her self confidence?”

“Maybe not that, but seeing her work through her problems while writing dozens of story’s all the time makes me proud of her. And it’s interesting to figure out how she’s feeling with the story’s content.”

“Oh yeah? Give me some examples then.” Jack sighed heavily.

“If you come sit back down by me I would. Im still exhausted and maybe if we can finish this story quick enough I can sleep. But we can’t finish until you agree to.”

“If you can give me examples, then I will let her finish the story without interrupting.” Jack promised, sitting back down.

Crutchie curled into his side. “Well. There was that one she wrote about when I was in the hospital because I fell out of a tree?”

Jack snorted. “Yeah. That one wasn’t really realistic.”

“It doesn’t matter, Jack. She wrote it because she was sick of a certain rule that was set for her own safety, but she didn’t want to ignore the rule because she knew she could get hurt herself. And writing that story reminded her how she could get hurt and how disappointed everyone would be in her.”

“Okay, well that’s one out of hundreds of them.” Jack unconsciously examined Crutchies arm, just to make sure it wasn’t broken.

“And one of my least favorites is one of my favorites because of the story behind it.” Crutchie continued, as he played with Jack’s fingers. “The one where you kinda turned to the dark side and were a jerk to me… i lived in the hospital, and you told me you would pay me 500 bucks if I walked across the city to your apartment. I did it because I needed the money to pay my hospital bill and stay alive. And when I did you laughed in my face and-”

“Yes, I would like to not remember that whole story, thank you.” Jack grumbled. “I hated that. I hated what I did to you. How could writing that possible help her with anything?”

“Because she might have had a best friend turn on her, and she felt completely alone and vilified by the world. She didn’t know what else to do, and didn’t like the ending she got. So she gave us the same situation, but with a happier ending.”

“She had a friend who really did that to her?”

“Well her friend might have not made her walk across the city, but they could have made her feel stupid and useless and unloved.”

“Oh.” Jack leaned his head on Crutchies shoulder, then decided to just reposition and lie his head in Crutchies lap. “That’s horrible.”

“Aren’t you glad she chose us to help put her feelings into words?” Crutchie began to run his hands through Jack’s hair.

“I wouldn’t say glad because I hated every word that came out of my mouth, but yeah, I guess. But I still need another example.”

“You’re needy, Jack.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” Jack replied. His eyes were closed, and he was just feeling the wonderful sensation of Crutchie playing with his hair.

“Remember that story about us going out west and meeting her at the restaurant where she works?” Crutchie asked quietly. He was exhausted. But he couldn’t go to sleep, even if he wanted to. Playing with Jack’s hair helped a lot though, knowing that Jack was real, and not the refuge. Not anymore.

Jack scowled. “The one where you got lost for three days?”

“Hey, that one wasn’t that bad.”

“Crutchie I was worried sick about you! I couldn’t eat or sleep, I didn’t know if I would ever find you again!”

“But you did, Jack. And we’re okay again.”

“And what was the point of that one anyway, huh?” Jack sat up, much to Crutchies dismay. “She loose a friend once and found ‘em a few days later?”

“She’s lonely Jack. You could tell when she first started talking to us when we came in. She just wants a friend.”

“She’s got plenty of friends.” Jack scoffed. “Em and Kayde and Ammon and Joey-”

“And how long has it been since she’s seen those friends in real life?” Crutchie interrupted. “Most of her friends she’s never even met in person! And the friend she does know in person, what was it, thanksgiving when she last saw Ammon? She thrives on physical contact, and when there’s no one around you feel comfortable with-it’s draining. You of all people should know this Mister Jack can’t take my hands off anyone for a second Kelly.”

Jack didn’t say anything in reply, for the first time actually understanding and realizing.

“I was her friend. She could open up to me. She felt comfortable and happy for the first time in months.”

“Yeah you two were partying while I was sick with worry. Why do I always get the lousy end of the deal?” Jack pressed his thumbs on the bridge of his nose.

“You don’t. You just take it worse then me.”

Jack only grumbled in reply.

“Can we move on with the story now?”

“You’re always so positive about this.” Jack shook his head.

“No. I’m just saying all this to make her happy so she can write me sleeping.”

“Maybe you can ask her nicely?” Jack suggested, pulling Crutchie against him.

“Yeah…” Crutchie yawned and leaned against Jack, feeling warm and safe.

“Just breathe and remember I’m right here.” Jacks soothing voice came in, and Crutchie felt overwhelmed with a happy feeling and when his eyes slipped closed, he didn’t dream about the refuge.

#newsies #newsies fic #jackcrutchie #my writing

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ivegot7scenarios-blog · 8 years ago

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Sense7

Author: Ivegot7scenarios

Genre: Drama/ Humor

A/N: This is loosely based on the Netflix series Sense8. This fic is only inspired by the show I’m not taking any direct plot points from the series or any of the episodes.

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 3,530

Summary: Seven people who otherwise would never have met or interacted are suddenly connected through a mind link. They don’t understand why or how they were chosen, all they know is that this is what their lives are now. A boxer, a student, a mechanic, a librarian, a blogger, a dancer, and an heir. They have little in common or so they think. Each one has in issue, a problem, or something in their lives that they can’t handle on their own.

[Masterlist]

Some where within the world there is a woman giving birth. It’s not a typical kind of birth however. It’s a birth of knowledge, of connection so vast that no normal human being could ever begin to understand the weight of such a gift.

The woman sits alone in a room but there are seven other people with her. They are intangible. There are there with her but it’s all inside her head. They are there to guide her through the process, offering comfort and words of encouragement. Sweat coats her brow and she’s breathing heavily, an expression of extreme discomfort evident on her face.

Tears from slip down her cheeks, and she can feel something, something vast threatening to burst from her mind. Instinctively she pushes. She forces the glittering object within her mind through the cracks and crevices that exist in the universe until it’s completely gone. Just as it disappears she catches a glimpse of those she has awakened. Each one living their lives, none of them knowing that everything is about to change.

DEF BOXING - Hong Kong, China

“Come on, Jackson! Get your shit together.” Out of nowhere a punch mitt appears smacking him in the side of the head. Jackson takes a few steps back eyes squinching shut more from the surprise of the hit rather than pain.

He narrows his dark eyes at the man in front of him, spitting his mouth guard into his gloved hand. “The hell? What’d you do that for?”

Bohai, his trainer, looks at him in confusion. “You’re kidding right? You’ve not been paying any attention this whole time. I had to do something to get your head back in it.”

Jackson just grunts and heads towards the edge of the ring. He knows that he’s been slacking. Any other time he would have been pushing himself to the brink of collapse but he happens to have a headache. One that’s threatening to split his skull in half and he isn’t in the mood to push himself today, let alone be subject to smacks in the head that make him want to throw up from the pain.

“Jackson! Get back here! We’re not finished yet.”

He just throws his gloves to the side and pulls his headgear off. His hair, dark and damp from sweat, falls into his face. “Yes we are. My head is killing me and if I have to listen to your voice for another minute I swear I’m going to knock myself out.” He regrets saying that the minute it leaves his mouth. He isn’t normally so short with Bohai, and it isn’t like him to take out his pain on others. “I’m going home. If you need me you know where to find me.”

He doesn’t wait for an answer before leaving the gym. Once outside he feels like he can breath again and while the headache doesn’t go away, he feels it subside fractionally. Just as he was about to start walking to his apartment he sees a woman. She’s standing across the road, lanes of traffic mark the distance between them and yet he can’t shake the feeling that she’s watching him and more than watching him, he feels like she’s analyzing him. He isn’t sure what to make of it but then a truck barrels past them and his view of her is cut off. When the truck left she’s gone.

Jackson looks around to see if maybe she just moved but she’d simply disappeared. He shakes his head, attributing it to his head ache before continuing on his way home, but he still can’t shake the feeling of being watched.

Seoul National University - Seoul, South Korea

In a study carrel a man sits up and groans as the kinks in his back pop one by one. The feeling leaves him feeling languid despite the throbbing in his head. He knows he should head back to his dorm and sleep. He’d been there since eleven the night before and it was nearing dawn but he can’t not when he has exams to study for. He looks around him and sees that most of the library has cleared out. Beside him his phone vibrates and he has to stop a grimace from forming on his face when he sees who it’s from.

Where are you? -WJ

It’s from Woojong. For a moment he contemplates ignoring it, but he has his read receipts on so that’s out of the question.

In the library. Where I told you I was going to be when you texted me three hours ago. -JY

Oh...Well do you want to go to a party tonight? -WJ

I’m studying, Woojong. That’s kind of what you do in the library. And I’m going to go back to studying. So no I don’t want to go to a party. I’ll see you later though. -JY

Jinyoung sets his phone down on the table and glares at it for a moment. Silently arguing with himself that a follow up text isn’t necessary but he can’t help himself. He’s too protective of his friend not to say anything.

Don’t do anything stupid alright? -JY

Sure thing dad! :P -WJ

For what feels like the first time that morning Jinyoung smiles. Leave it to Woojong, he’s not even with him and he still manages to make him grin. Jinyoung runs a hand through his hair and smothers a yawn with his hand. He leans forward, pulling his book towards him. His eyes scan the material and he can feel himself setting into a grove again. Then the quiet peace is shattered when what could only be a car horn sounds in his ear.

He jerks back and the momentum sends his chair back, he and the chair both careen to the floor with a crash. He groans and a librarian appears shushing him. “Why are you shushing me?” He hisses, rubbing the back of his neck as he rights himself. “Go after the person who played that video so loud.”

“You’re the only one in here aside from me young man.” She crossed her arms, silently daring him to lie to her again.

“Then where did that noise come from?” he said.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Now you can continue to study here so long as you don’t make anymore noise otherwise I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” He nods and she goes on her way, leaving him confused and sore.

Im Car Repair - Seoul, South Korea

“Hey!” Jaebum peers from around the raised hood of the car he’s been working on. He glares at his younger sisters sitting inside. They’re frozen, having just honked the horn on accident. Jaebum makes his way towards the driver’s side door holding the side of his head. He taps on the window, gesturing for them to roll it down.

Yun-seo, the oldest of the two, exchanges a look with her sister who shrugs. Nervously she rolls down the window down until her brother is able to lean in comfortably. “You know when I told you not to touch anything I’m pretty sure the car horn was part of that.”

He’s smiling at them and they both know him well enough to know that he’s irritated. Su-bin speaks up, her voice small, reflecting her age. “We’re sorry big brother. We didn’t mean to.”

He sighs and pats her head gently. “I know. Just try not to do it again alright? Big brother’s head hurts and the horn didn’t help.”

They nod and he starts to say something else while moving out of the car when he turns and sees a woman. She’s standing by the garage entrance. The hem of her blue dress is wet from what looks like rain, only Jaebum can see behind her that the sun is shining. He looks back to his sisters to see if they can see her but they don’t give any sign that they have.

“Can I help you?” He calls out to her, walking towards the entrance. She doesn’t answer him and he wonders if maybe she’s high on something. “Ma’am? Is there something you need?

She turns to look at him and his freezes. Her gaze is penetrating and not in a good way. It sends shivers down his spine and makes his adrenaline start pumping. Without saying a work she looks away from him and starts to walk. He doesn’t see where she goes but when she disappears from view he rushes to the door to watch where she’s headed.

Amazingly she’s disappeared from sight. Confused he goes back over to his sisters, they’re watching him with concern. “Did either of you see her?”

“See who?”

“That woman. She was wearing a blue dress.”

The girls exchange glances and Yun-seo places her hand on his arm. “Are you feeling okay, Jaebum?”

“Yeah,” his voice is uncertain as he looks back over to where the woman was standing. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Sainte-Geneviève Library - Paris, France

Youngjae takes what seems like his fourth helping of pain killers that day. Really it’s just his second but he doesn’t like to rely on medication when he help it. Today happens to be a day when he can’t take the pain. The headache he’s currently dealing with has been present since late last night. It woke him and kept him awake for longer than he would have liked.

That’s why he was also on his third cup of coffee. Jodie, his coworker was watching him from across the break room table, concern evident on her face. “Are you sure you shouldn’t go see a doctor or something?”

“No, I don’t really the doctor. They give me anxiety.” His voice is muffled. He’d laid his head on the table. The light from the room was making the pain travel in waves.

“What doesn’t give you anxiety Youngjae?” She chuckles into her tea.

“Coco. And books.”

“That’s a very limited list.”

“Well I’m a limited person,” he sits up, shooting a quick glance at the clock while smoothing down any flyaway hair. “Anyway we have to get back to work.”

Youngjae downs the rest of his coffee, before heading back out into the main section of the library. It was quiet when he got there. Peaceful. He loved it.

The silence always enveloped him like a warm blanket, soft and comfortable. There was no place he would rather be. Youngjae hums softly to himself as he re-shelved books, taking care to align the spins just so. Nearby he could hear people talking.

“Did you read his latest post?”

“No, but I read the one before that and I completely agreed with him.”

“Me too!”

A small frown forms on Youngjae’s face. He isn’t as straitlaced as most librarians tended to be but he did believe that you had be quiet to a degree. He peers through the books to see who was talking and his eyes fall onto a pair of students. They’re whispering has slowly grown louder and he can feel his irritation growing by the minute.

Pretty soon their conversation reaches on octave that is grating on his ears. Not being able to stand it for much longer he slams the book down onto the cart and marches into the aisle where they’re standing.

“Do you mind keeping it down? This is a library. If you’re hear to make conversation then I suggest you go to a coffee shop or something.” He says in a rush, a frown on his face

The students, who turned out to be a pair of girls, just stare at him wide eyed and in shock. Jodie who heard the commotion came rushing to see what was going on and was standing next to him, her expression showing just as much shock as the girl’s. He looks at her confused. “What?”

“Youngjae, do you realise that you just spoke in perfect English?”

“What? I don’t know how to speak English.”

FD Photo Studio - Los Angeles, California

“Look at the birdie!” Mark, holds up the plastic rubber duck and squeezes it to capture the attention of the smile child that’s sitting in front of him. The little boy looks up at him and reaches for the toy a smile on his face. Mark takes that opportunity to get a few snapshots of him while he has the chance. “Good job buddy!”

The baby’s mother claps her hands happily and rushes forward to pick up her son bouncing him up and down in her arms. “Thank you so much!”

“No problem. I’ll just pull these up on the computer and you can see what they look like.” The smile he has plastered to his face is fake. The joyful tone he has in his voice is just as fake. What he really wants to do is throw the camera against the wall and walk out of the studio and never look back but he doesn’t do this.

Instead he does as he said he was going to. He pulls up the pictures for the woman. He listens to her critiques of his work, even though he’s the one who spent thousands of dollars on an art and politics degree and knows what he’s doing and she knows absolutely nothing. He nods along with her, listens to her complaints and smiles. Even though her grating voice is causing his already present headache to get so much worse.

Mark visibly relaxes when she finally leaves. His smile disappears in an instant and he’s able to breathe again. One of his coworkers shoots him a sympathetic smile that he returns only half hardheartedly. At his desk he pulls up the photos he’s just taken but quickly minimizes the page to look at his blog. No one he works with knows about it and he prefers to keep it that way.

His newest post has over 15,000 hits which is good given that it’s only been up for a few hours. It’s one that he’s particularly fond of. Detailing a politicians recent argument over environmental issues.

“Hey! I didn’t know you read TradeMarked!” A voice from behind him says, making him jump with surprise.

“Jesus, you scared the shit out of me,” Mark says, hand over his heart as he glares at Ted.

“Sorry,” he says it automatically and Mark knows that he doesn’t mean it. “But TradeMarked huh?”

“Oh, yeah I guess. I’ve heard some interesting things about him so I figured I’d see what all the hype is about.” Another lie, just as fake as the smile he’d been sporting earlier. TradeMarked was obviously a pseudonym, and not a particularly good one either. Then again he’d come up with it when he was drunk and ranting it wasn’t his fault it had stuck.

“How do you know it’s a guy?”

“I don’t, now if you’ll excuse me I’ve got some work I need to finish up.”

Ted rolls his eyes but leaves anyway, leaving Mark to his down devices. He’s putting the finishing touches on a photo when he suddenly starts smelling salt in the air and hears seagulls in his ear. He looks around, trying to see if someone is playing a video but no one is. Confused he looks back to his computer screen and still nothing. Not a seagull or a beach in sight.

Gulf of Thailand - Bangkok, Thailand

The salty spray of the sea fills Bambam’s nose. It’s intoxicating. It makes him feel free and weightless as if all the stresses in the world had vanished and he could run away from them if he wanted.

It’s too bad that he can’t. He knows that soon he’s going to have to drive the boat into port and go home, where he’ll see his father and his mother. There’s a lecture waiting for him and he knows it all too well. He could probably repeat it by heart if he wanted to, but if you were to ask him he’d tell you his head hurt too much to recall.

“You must set a better example. Uphold out family honor. Why is it so hard for you to behave like a good son should?” He’s heard it all. He isn’t stupid though, he knows what responsibilities he has. So what if he’s trying to enjoy his freedom while he still has it? Was it too much to ask for him to act his age for a while?

In his father’s eyes it was too big of a price to pay. Bambam, docks the boat at the port and starts making his way home. His house isn’t hard to miss. It’s located in one of the nicest places in the city. It ought to be given how much it cost his father to build it, but then again price didn’t really matter when you were one of the richest men in the country.

When Bambam had asked his father how their money was made he’d refused to go into specifics. He’d said that they were in the shipping and trading business, but Bambam knew better that. The only real way to make money in Bangkok was drugs and sex. And since his father vehemently condemned the sex industry he made his money through drugs. That was what his empire was founded on and Bambam hated every last bit of it.

While making his way home he can’t shake the feeling that he’s being watched. But that’s normal, as soon as he hits the streets most eyes are on him. Most are bodyguards, watching his every move and waiting to intervene at the slightest sight of trouble, but this was a different feeling. This felt like an itch that he couldn’t scratch.

As casually he can manage he looks around him. His eyes fall upon a woman. She’s the only one that’s not moving among the throngs of people. That’s what catches his eye first. Second is that he obviously doesn’t belong. She doesn’t look like a tourist, he’s seen plenty of them to know the difference.

He starts to walk faster, hoping to leave the strange woman and the even stranger feeling she gives him.

Siansbury’s - London, England

“That’ll be £18.98, ma’am,” The older woman gives the young man at the register correct change and in return he hands her a receipt and gives her smile before she walks out the door. She was the last customer of the day and he’s grateful that it’s finally over. Yugyeom goes over and locks the door behind her before turning out the lights and flipping the open sign back to closed.

He then pulls his earbuds from the pocket of his apron and plugs them into his phone before going about his nightly chores of cleaning up the store. The music in his ears does nothing to soothe the ache in his head but he doesn’t really care. Pretty soon he’ll be home and in bed, without a care in the world.

Until then however he is stuck at the store. The music was easy to get lost in and pretty soon the time started slipping by and before he knew it he was walking headphones are still in his ears, his head bobbing to the music.

When he walks through the front door he calls out to his parents. “Mum, dad! I’m home!”

“Come into the kitchen love! I’ll fix you some thing to eat!”

Yugyeom walks into the kitchen to find his mother and father enjoying an evening cup of tea at the table. He sits across from them, knowing all too well that he was the topic of conversation when he entered.

“Hello, darling,” his mother stands, drops a kiss on his hair and busies herself around the kitchen for his dinner.

“So son, have you thought about what you’re going to do after graduation yet?”

Yugyeom rolls his eyes. He should have known. “Not really but you’re going to tell me what you think I should do aren’t you?”

“No need to take that sort of tone. All we want is for you to be well off after school and we think that being a doctor is a wonderful career.”

“Then you be a doctor then!” Yugyeom stands up the chair sliding against the tile floor. “I’ve already told you I want to go to a dance school.”

From the other side of the kitchen his mother speaks up. “That’s not practical love. How do you expect to make a decent living that way?”

“Forget it. I’m not having this conversation with you again,” he turns and leaves the kitchen, heading to his bedroom upstairs.

“What about your dinner?”

“I’m not hungry and I’m going to bed.” He calls over his shoulder before entering the room and slamming the door shut. Yugyeom collapses on the bed in a heap, not even bothering to take of his shoes. He stares up at the ceiling and sighs wondering what it would be like to live anywhere else but here. His last thought before falling asleep is a wish. A silent wish that someone would understand him.

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primadonnatartuffe · 8 years ago

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RYAN: -tonight is the night ryan would fall off the wagon after spending way too long in a bar singing, fending off offers to buy her drinks as well as her own impulses. but this is what happens when you put yourself in these kinds of locations. it was only a matter of time.-

RYAN: -pain pills are easy enough to come by, and even easier to choke down when you're drunk. a wild evening results in ryan making her usual commute back home, late at night, on her own... making her an easy target for a mugging.-

RYAN: -things get a little hazy after that point. but she remembers seeing jack arrive on the scene before blacking out.-

RYAN: -... and then she woke up, back at the bar where it all began. she snorts awake from a puddle of drool with the bar tender tapping her head and telling her they're closing. she had a half finished drink which apparently made her both sleepy and guilty enough to pass out and have some kind of shitty nightmare. or... something. regardless, it's time to make the trek home, but her mind is still buzzing.-

RYAN: -she's been having an awful lot of realistic dreams lately. way more than she has her entire life. jack seems to play a role in a considerable number of them, but she finds it unsettling in this case. this isn't her idealizing him rescuing her. it's more like... a very plausible thing if he ever saw her getting into trouble in one of his visions. and the idea of that makes her feel incredibly guilty.-

RYAN: -she snaps out of her thoughts long enough to notice she's coming upon the alley from her dream. it would be wise to avoid it, but she wants to prove to herself it was just a dream... it would all be alright, like every other evening. and besides, she'd be on her toes anyway. she can fend for herself. still, her heart races as she turns down that street.-

JACK: -It's a feeling that creeps up his spine and settles with a heavy weight in his mind. Nagging and insistent, Jack knows no rest until he's forced to emerge from his apartment and pace the Skaian streets. He knows this feeling by now, like tuning into a radio station full of scenarios that chill his blood in a terribly familiar way.-

JACK: -He can practically taste the dread in his mouth. His hands feel for a pack tucked into the pocket of his windbreaker until he's fishing out the cig he's searching for. Before too long, Jack has it tucked between his teeth. The tobacco burning in a (failed) hope of stowing off the metallic tang on his tongue.-

JACK: -While his feet carry him down the turns of concrete and crosswalks, images begin to press to the blanket of sightlessness that were his eyes. Taking him an hour, half an hour, moments into the future. Stringlets of fate belonging to complete strangers, they paint Jack's surroundings to perfect clarity. He can See the darkened street where Ryan turns. Her steps hobbled and uncertain, the very opposite of sober.-

JACK: -He also Sees when the three figures depart from the bar, having watched Ryan the whole time she'd spent drinking and then finally leaving on her own. A few seconds of context and clairvoyant observation left Jack knowing their intention. They were faceless, strangers in his visions, except for Ryan. Her face he would recognize anywhere and he realizes... He doesn't have much time to revel in the picturesque details he'd been missing out on.-

JACK: -And so Jack takes a short cut, cutting straight through an alley where he might intercept Ryan on the other side. No need for conflict if he can avoid it. His hand shoots out to catch her at the elbow.- (Ryan.)

RYAN: -as alert as she tries to be, naturally she's glancing around nervously in all directions except the one jack suddenly emerges from. she feels his hand on her, stirring up a yelp and a startled jump.- JESUS FUCK.

RYAN: -her heart beats right out of her chest and it only starts to settle when she recognizes the dimly lit figure beside her.- (jack???)

RYAN: (what are you doing here?) -she doesn't sound entirely clueless, but she asks it all the same.-

JACK: -He can sense the group's balk in the distance as they see his interception of Ryan. But it'll only be a moment, just long enough for Jack to take her by the hand and zip further into the alley.- (No time.)

JACK: -Navigates with surprising finesse for a blind guy. Managing to avoid crates, broken bottles, garbage cans, anything that will cut it close to an encounter with their would-be pursuers. Within a few minutes, Jack is pulling Ryan in... only to duck with her into the archway of a backway door. The locked from the outside kind, probably belonging to the grounded restaurant kitchen beyond. His visions told him as much.-

JACK: -He keeps a hand to her, hushing her while he listened and searched the immediate future. They were certainly out of sight now...-

RYAN: -alright, so much for her calming down. she sputters one last incoherent protest before the pair of them bob and weave through the alley's obstacles. this is all too fucking Real, she thinks, and it certainly doesn't quell her paranoid fears that what she saw was, in some way, her fate.-

RYAN: -they linger in the archway, but the pause does nothing to quiet her racing thoughts or the unpleasant churn of anxiety in her stomach. she looks to jack, leaning into him a little to try to relax and trust that whatever is going on, he's got it under control better than she does. because what the fuck???-

RYAN: -exhales after a moment and turns towards him to hiss a whisper.- (we got time now?)

JACK: -As the prospect of danger fades, so does his pseudo-ability to see. Everything takes to the comfort of pitch black and once again, Jack is left alone with the hush of Ryan's voice in his ear. The smell of booze is on her breath, the same way the cigarette smell must be clinging to his own clothes.-

JACK: -his hand releases her and finds its way to her shoulder, squeezing at her in a way he hopes is reassuring.- Yes.

JACK: We'll give it another minute or two. -talks as if they're avoiding something like a sudden bout of rain instead of... what just could have been.-

RYAN: alright. -she fidgets, but manages to collect herself as quiet returns between them. there are things she'd like to say that she isn't sure how.-

RYAN: ... jack? i uh...

RYAN: -sighs- there were guys following me. right?

JACK: -There's no point in lying... but he doesn't like the tension in her voice either. Despite everything, he would still prefer not to take it as what it could have been but rather what it is now. Ryan, safe because of his own intervention. He would count his lucky stars if he could.-

JACK: There were.

JACK: But safe to say, they're gone now. -blinks and kind of registers their proximity of one another. Crossing his arms, Jack turns to lean back against the door instead, lining her shoulder up by his own.- Lucky break.

RYAN: ... i knew about them.

RYAN: but i didnt think it would actually happen.

RYAN: i mean... fuck. -runs a hand through her hair.- how do i put this?

RYAN: -she turns her head to look at him again, confused and scared, but if anyone would understand, it had to be him... right?- i keep having these dreams. theyre always about me... things that happen to me. and they feel so real. but they never... theyve never happened.

RYAN: i saw those guys coming after me. but even in that dream it was different.

RYAN: ... i dunno. maybe its just a coincidence. im basically a sitting duck walking out here on my own.

JACK: Not always, you know. Just this one time. -gently nudges her with an elbow. He can't see how confused and fearful her expression is, but he can certainly hear it in her words. Jack opts to keep a cool head.- When did you have this dream.

RYAN: -scoffs and nudges him back.- just earlier today.

RYAN: at the bar.

RYAN: ... after i drank a little.

RYAN: i guess i fell asleep.

JACK: -falls quiet and thoughtful at that, focusing on the circumstance. It was unique to say the least and one he couldn't help but identify with.- Is this a recent thing? You say dreams in the plural sense of the word.

RYAN: -nods slowly- yeah. for the past... month or so?

RYAN: theyre usually about... shit like this.

RYAN: me making poor decisions or getting into trouble or...

RYAN: uhh... -glances off, flustered when she remembers the bulk of the things she dreams about. whoops.- mostly just that.

JACK: -strokes a thumb at his chin, nodding. Ohhh if he knew what she was thinking.- It's interesting.

JACK: But something you can't expect to know the ins and outs of right away.

JACK: I would suggest you take it with a grain of salt. Maybe... -drops the cane from his sylladex, weighing it in one hand for a moment.- Try not to tempt fate so often.

JACK: The dreams are there for a reason.

RYAN: mrgg. well that much is obvious to me. -rubs at her head, feeling annoyed with herself when she reflects back on all these potential disasters she's gotten herself into. but of course, not everything she dreams about is regrettable.-

RYAN: sometimes thats easier said than done.

RYAN: but hey. im trying to be wiser.

RYAN: -glances down at the ground, then loops her arm with his.- youre walking home with me of course.

JACK: I can't see an instance where I don't. -ba dum tshh. He's glad to take her arm in his and takes the lead out of the alley way. Truly homefree.- I don't suppose you mean my home. Or yours.

RYAN: -HOME IS WHEREVER I'M WITH YOOOOUUU.-

RYAN: well... technically were closer to my place from here but.

RYAN: i think id rather crash with you. if thats alright.

JACK: I won't oppose you... -when it comes time for them to take that street turn, Jack leads them on.- But on a more serious note.

JACK: I'm also going to suggest you stay away from the kareoke bars a while.

JACK: It's... not an easy thing. Relapsing. -squeezes at her wrist a little. As if reminding.-

RYAN: yeah... -as he squeezes her wrist, she finds herself drifting closer to him, brushing elbows.-

RYAN: guess thatd count as making wiser decisions.

RYAN: -she quiets, her train of thought bringing her away from him again, though she keeps her hand on his arm.- im... sorry jack.

JACK: -a smile quirks on his face as their elbows brush.- No need to be.

JACK: I was here this time. I'd say if anything, this night turned out well. It's what's real and it's what matters.

RYAN: -that answer surprises her a little, but it's a relief.- i guess so...

RYAN: i just dont wanna worry you. that you gotta hunt me down like that.

RYAN: im... trying.

JACK: If anyone knows how hard you're trying, it's me. -says, squeezing at her knuckles now.- And I won't worry either.

JACK: I can put off pre-mature grays for only so long.

RYAN: -that makes her smile and she returns to leaning against him, taking his hand up in hers just to squeeze back.- fair.

RYAN: i can rest assured knowing youre gonna look good gray too. -snickers-

JACK: You know for a fact? -sounds bemused-

JACK: I don't suppose your dreams tell you as much.

RYAN: i mean its hard to go wrong.

RYAN: youre somehow pulling off this disheveled gives no fucks look after all. -ruffles his hair with her free hand.-

JACK: Thank you. -smiles, glad for the hair mussings.-

JACK: The secret is forgetting that combs exist from time to time. At least twice a week.

RYAN: oh yeah. at the very least. id be surprised if you even own one anymore. -the closer they get to jack's place, the more her heart rate quickens. she worries if this is real, and if she's going to do something she shouldn't again. it's only a matter of time before that becomes a reality too, isn't it? she tries to tell herself it's probably in her head, but it doesn't stop the anxiety.-

RYAN: ... by the way thanks for letting me stay with you so often. i know neither of you would wanna turn me away but you know. i appreciate being welcome all the time. -shrugs a little.-

JACK: -It's just like Ryan to shrug off an honest sentiment. So the blind guy leads the buzzed girl up the stairs and it goes about as well as one expects. He nods, holding her hand and feeling up the stair rails with the free hand.-

JACK: If it was your house, you would be doing the same for me. -touches the first door but it's obviously not their house. He guides Ryan all the way to the third. He begins fiddling with his keys to get the door unlocked.- I personally enjoy having space to my own.

JACK: No moms or dads staying up late to make sure I'm home in one piece. I appreciate their concern but nine times out of ten, I'm perfectly fine. -rambles the whole way into the house. Predictably, Audrey the pitbull greets them with a sniff and a boop of her nose at their hands. Oh yeah. Jack should probably release that now.-

RYAN: -NEVER. but it's alright, her hands are now occupied giving this pup pets.- tell me about it...

RYAN: one of these days ill have my own place again. or i can room with someone i guess. since russet suggested it i kinda feel compelled to resist it with all my being.

RYAN: plus i just... ya know. dont wanna burden anybody until im in a better place.

RYAN: ... but then again i guess im kinda doing that already without necessarily burdening anybody so hey.

RYAN: not that im suggesting i room with yall but uh yeah thats just where my train of thought took me.

RYAN: ... -wanders inside, but she's lingering a little awkwardly like she isn't sure if she wants to sit or not.-

JACK: All the couch needs is a plaque with your name on it. -He doesn't seem to mind that she lingers, shuffling off for his kitchen like he is. After a few minutes and from the smell of it, Jack is making himself a mug of hot chocolate.- I know Sage would like the prospect of extended sleepovers.

RYAN: -belatedly decides to hover, joining him in the kitchen.- heh. without a doubt.

RYAN: hey... make me one. -prods at him.-

JACK: -lets her have this drink he's already done preparing.- Fine. -gets to making himself another. Feeling around a cabinet for another mug.-

JACK: I think you should consider a roommate though. It's a system that works wonders on Sage and I. Hell.

JACK: It's best if you can find someone you can fuss at the same way they fuss at you. That way you don't feel like it's a burdening dynamic. It's how it works for us.

RYAN: -scoffs...- oh wait youre serious.

RYAN: i dunno if i know anyone that i can fuss at. pretty much everyone i know has their shit together waaay more than i do. -sips the chocolate as she leans against a counter and thinks about this.-

JACK: It helps not to make those assumptions. -stirs the powder into the hot water with a spoon.- But again.

JACK: Just an idea.

RYAN: :P

RYAN: its something to consider i guess. maybe ill get lucky. or however that works.

JACK: You could ask your dreams about it. -licks the spoon, tapping it at his mouth in contemplation.- Another hypothetical thought.

RYAN: yeah right. maybe if i want some insight on the worst candidates for the position since so far theyve only been good for warning me not to be a complete dunderfuck.

RYAN: or to be like prepared.

RYAN: for things.

RYAN: that some people apparently arent prepared for.

RYAN: since theyre not all bad dreams so. i dunno maybe youre onto something. -STOP WHILE YOU STILL CAN RYAN. she squints at her mug and takes a generous gulp.-

JACK: So if they're not bad, they must be good. -sips his own mug, elbow leaned back against the counter.- I say you give it a try.

RYAN: guess it cant hurt!

RYAN: -she's feeling flustered all over again now that they're back to this subject. she wonders if it's something she should address, or if that would be an even worse decision. maybe she can be subtle about it.-

RYAN: heeeeeeey. actually while were still talking about my whacky dream shenanigans...

RYAN: so some of them arent exactly bad... sure... maybe they are actually really good!

RYAN: but what if they arent? i mean if the running theme of every other dream is something i shouldnt do then maybe these good dreams could be categorized as the same thing.

RYAN: and even if they ARENT then what DO they mean? since as you said they mean SOMETHING...

JACK: -fishes out a marshmallow before answering.- Tough question but it's a good one to ask.

JACK: From my perspective, the visions manifest as... often worst-case scenarios. What would happen if I don't do "x". But your dreams? You can't say they're the same thing.

JACK: Maybe it's not inherently about good or bad but rather your decisions. And what comes out of them. That make sense?

RYAN: -turns the mug in her hand.- when you put it like that... yeah. it does. -baccia said more or less the same thing, but it still raises some questions.-

RYAN: but i guess in this case im not sure... what would come out of it... if i did wind up doing those things. and thats why im wary of it.

RYAN: cuz it could be great. or it could totally set u-- uhh. me... up for disaster and its...

RYAN: -glances down at the hot chocolate.- its something i really wouldnt wanna fuck up.

JACK: Hmmm. Well.

JACK: Great or not, I guess... just like with most major, uncertain decisions.

JACK: You would have to make a gamble on whether it's worth going through with or not. Not that I'm the best candidate to offer such advice. -snorts a little into his drink.- But the possibilities still stand.

RYAN: -quiets, shuffling her feet and letting all this rattle around in her head. then she shuffles her feet over to him, standing shoulder to shoulder again.-

RYAN: ...

RYAN: theyre sex dreams.

RYAN: a metric fuck ton of sex dreams.

RYAN: aboutttttt... yooouuu?

JACK: -He can physically hear the record scratch in his head as he takes a long hard gulp of hot chocolate. Scalding his mouth and leaving him to stifle the wheeze. He deserved this.- Mgh. Ghhhhf.

JACK: -SWALLOWS.- Metric fuck ton.

JACK: Of... chronologically probable sex dreams. -Has to repeat it to make sure he's hearing this right.-

RYAN: yeeeeeup.

RYAN: im only kind of exaggerating. hahaha.

RYAN: oh god.

RYAN: -hello darkness my old friend...-

JACK: -stands there with his mug like mmmmmmmygod.- "Kind of". -clears his throat and shakes his head.-

JACK: How often do they occur before you have to qualify something as "a metric fuck ton"? -He's almost afraid to ask but well. Here he is. Staring into the void.-

RYAN: like... i dunno... about as often as i stay over???

RYAN: i say... after deciding to stay over.

RYAN: fuck.

JACK: Well. That...

JACK: ... -ends up holding his chin just to grasp the gravity of all that she's implying.-

JACK: Certainly... puts things into perspective.

RYAN: lmaoooo.

RYAN: yeah i... okay im not just bringing this up so we can be collectively ashamed of ourselves.

RYAN: i figure... if all these dreams are about my decisions and shit then im DECIDING to talk about it instead of jumping your bones. or waiting for you to jump my bones. or for both of us to jump at each other at the same time.

RYAN: ... -puts her head in her hand and SIGHS- not that those details matter... or i guess maybe they do if these are things that actually couldve happened.

RYAN: cuz that means... it isnt just me...?

JACK: -he gnaws absently on his thumb as she rambles. Picturing all the times he shuffled around, debating. Knowing he wasn't going to go through with it but wanting to. Fantasizing?? Even just remembering was bringing some sweat to his forehead.- ...Christ.

JACK: It's... a pickle. To say the least. -chews his thumb.- Sorry.

JACK: I'm probably not much help with this. -wheezes gently.-

RYAN: -frowns- you could be though?

RYAN: like clearly theres an elephant in the room we should be addressing.

RYAN: or!! its something i want to address.

RYAN: because it sucks just sitting on how im feeling. and i know i suck at talking about it. but i wanna try to be better at that too.

RYAN: especially... especially with you.

JACK: -takes a deep breath... ultimately nodding. He runs his hand through his hair.- Yeah.

JACK: You're right. It's just...

JACK: God. -brings a hand and runs it down his face.- It's fucking insane. -says muffled.-

JACK: Sometimes... fantasies oughta stay fantasies, huh? -drops his hands back down to his sides.- Sheesh.

RYAN: ... maybe.

RYAN: but why is it... on our minds in the first place? and so frequently???

RYAN: its not... mmrg.

RYAN: its not just a fantasy for me. its not just about fucking around. okay?

JACK: -he sobers up a little, unsure of himself but dammit. Wanting to give talking it through a try.- I know. That's not what I meant.

JACK: I just...

JACK: Thought it was a safe thing.

JACK: Letting myself be indecisive.

JACK: You know it never works out if we think too much so... often times it's just about the feelings. -He doesn't know what he's saying but whatever it is, Jack is sure it was making him sound like a thoughtless dick. The shame is starting to catch up now that he thinks about it.-

RYAN: -winces and turns away from him, setting the mug down on the counter to use the mindless action as an excuse to process this. it's definitely a little frustrating, but even moreso when she doesn't really understand.- what do you mean... a safe thing?

JACK: -rubs his head in frustration and sighs.- Do you ever see me turning away? In these visions?

JACK: Dreams. Sorry.

RYAN: ... no. i dont.

JACK: -drums his fingers a little bit.- Well, logically speaking.

JACK: It's not just your own desires that are inducing the decisions behind the dreams. And you're not selfish or crazy for having them.

RYAN: -folds her arms, hugging herself while her stomach does all sorts of acrobatic stunts.- okay so... then what???

RYAN: thats what i wanna know.

RYAN: if youre feeling the same way i am... i just want to figure out what i should do about it.

RYAN: what... we should do about it.

JACK: I don't... have that answer. I don't See what happens if we go through with.... these hypothetical scenarios.

JACK: It's not disastrous? You've never been disastrous. -makes a vague gesture. It seems kind of wistful.- You've always been...

JACK: Just you. A person.

JACK: Reaching for the good as much as anyone else.

RYAN: -looks at him again, expression softening.- ... well. since neither of us knows where things would go...

RYAN: maybe a better question is... what do we want to do about it?

JACK: -He has to consider everything in front of him now. It was like living through a dose of ice cold deja vu. Ryan, their relationship, the past, the future... In these few moments, Jack is quiet. The conflict warring on his face, despite being unable to see her. If only he had the reassurance of her expression, then he'd be able to make sense of all the blank spaces.-

JACK: You're always so close. -begins carefully, his blind eyes worried.- It seems... inevitable. No matter what we do. How hard we try.

RYAN: -swallows dryly as she turns to face him and reaches to touch his arm, gentle and reassuring in the absence of the look on her face.- are you scared?

JACK: -as she touches him, he releases the breath he didnt know he was holding.- Always.

JACK: You know me.

RYAN: -her hand travels up along his shoulder till she's coiling her arms around him, pulling him into a hug.- yeah.

RYAN: me too.

RYAN: maybe we can be... scared together?

RYAN: im not trying to say that we need to have it all figured out right now...

RYAN: i just dont wanna... run away from this. i dont wanna do that kinda thing anymore jackie.

JACK: -hardly resists her embrace. In fact, he coils into it. Burying himself against her shoulder and holding her tight.- I know...

JACK: But habits are hard to put to rest. And it's hard trying to...

JACK: Tell myself that I'm ready. And that I won't catch myself in the same cycle as before. I've spent so long trying to break from it. But is it enough?

JACK: -He nuzzles her.- I have no fucking clue.

RYAN: -laughs a little, returning the nuzzles.- well fuck. im right there with you.

RYAN: im not gonna be reckless about it though and say i dont give a fuck?? cuz i do. like...

RYAN: i wanna be more aware of my own bullshit.

RYAN: but i feel like its been easier... cuz ive had help. and ive let people help. i never did before.

RYAN: -squeezes him a little tighter.- i think we can help each other too. youre already doing that for me...

JACK: -Hugs her so tight, he lifts her a little bit. The stronk hobo that he is.- Yeah...

JACK: -And with that, he turns and presses a kiss to her cheek.- I just.

JACK: Love you. Somewhere in all this fuckery of a mess. I do.

RYAN: -her cheeks warm at the contact, butterflies fluttering all around her stomach and chest, inspiring more laughter and the threat of tears.- i love you too. i never fucking stopped.

RYAN: -returns the kiss, and then once more. leaving behind lipstick stains he unfortunately won't be able to discover later, but they're there all the same.-

JACK: -It's hard being on the receiving end of Ryan kisses. It's hard and nobody understands that when you receive one, you had to receive more. And so Jack leans, bringing a hand to her hair, the back of her head. Angling her chin up so he can press a soft sweet kiss to her lips.-

RYAN: -chills run up and down her spine, an elating warmth settling over her skin when it passes. her hands clasp at his hair, interlocking with messy strands to give her a grip while she returns this kiss too, deepening it with the tilt of her head.-

JACK: -The velvety soft of her kiss was like everything Jack remembered... but in real time. No longer clouded by memory or the passing of time. It was a crystal clear, high definition of Ryan Strider brand kisses. Tinted by the taste of hot chocolate, he knew each time his lips energetically plucked the kisses from hers.-

JACK: Fuck it all... -says while humming with satisfaction, the more she carded fingers through his hair.-

RYAN: thats what i like to hear. -the shape of her lips form a wide smile against his, but that alone couldn't even express her joy. her hands move to frame his face instead for her to look him over. scruffy as he is, he's still the most handsome man she's ever laid eyes on, and it feels good to admire this without guilt.-

RYAN: hey jack... its really getting late. shouldnt we think about lying down?

JACK: Late for you maybe. The wicked know no sleep. -he smiles, exhaling with relief and the buzz of warmth in his cheeks. He fiddles with more of her downy soft hair between his fingers.- But I guess I could lie in wait for a while.

RYAN: -snickers at his jokes, nudging into his touch.- alright edward. come on. -captures his hand in hers so she can escort him to his own bedroom. she's visited it enough in her dreams to know every step like the back of her hand. when she passes through the door, she's pulling him in for more kisses, as if she had been waiting another lifetime for them, rather than only a few moments.-

JACK: -follows her kisses into well... His bedroom. He knew the direction and he was conscious of how bold she was for leading the way. The truth was really shedding some light on the situation. Holy moly.- Make yourself at home. -mutters, squeezing at her hands and stealing more precious pecks. The door is closing behind them.-

RYAN: i always do. -guides him to the bed, slowly seating herself and tugging him along with her continued insistence. side by side, she pauses to run her hands over his shoulders, studying his frame as if testing the solidity of him. the reality of him.-

RYAN: im not dreaming again am i?

JACK: I guess we'll find out tomorrow when you wake up. -for all his griping, he stifles a yawn. Relaxing under the hands that run by his shoulders. One of his own thumb comes to lightly stroke her chin. Coaxing her to relax.-

RYAN: ... yeah. alright. -she's torn between the anxiety to stay awake with him, to savor every moment of this, and getting rest to test out the theory that in the morning they'll actually wake up together. but ultimately, his touch has her lying back against the pillows and sheets, beckoning him to follow.-

JACK: -Here he comes. Rolling into bed and feeling around for a way to get comfortable. Preferably with Ryan gathered up in his arms.-

RYAN: -she helps him out, fitting herself against the shape of him, juxtaposed with her back to his front. and with his arms around her, she can finally start to relax.-

#invincibleDetective #in which I just love you

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charlenebyrauschenberg · 6 years ago

Text

Stars like streetlamps

Emma prefers rainy evenings to clear ones, especially when the drops pat against her forty-first story window, the light blurring through them like finger paints, or water color. Emma wouldn’t use that description, though. She doesn’t like either. She doesn’t paint, or draw, and hardly doodles. The closest she comes to that sort of thing is when she looks over her secretary Lisa’s shoulder to see if she’s paying attention. Which she is, most of the time, but occasionally Emma stumbles upon a field of flowers, or suns and moons, and Emma has to remind her that as a secretary she’s supposed to be taking notes in these sort of meetings. Emma realizes she’s much harder than she needs to be, but Lisa needs to learn.

Emma blinks, stretched along the couch, and blames the rain for her reverie. She is the no-nonsense sales executive for BRight-on toothpaste, and she’s earned respect for no mistakes and solid focus. Lisa could never manage something so numerical and technical, but for some reason, Emma likes having her around.

She’s not sure why.

But as she checks the milk for a late evening coffee, she realizes it’s spoiled. Emma sighs; she doesn’t make mistakes like this.

But the evening is free of conference calls and assignments, so she pulls on a long coat and slips into rain boots on her way to the elevator. It’s empty. She feels the silence as she hits the ground floor.

“Good evening, Ms. Alvarez,” says the doorman. “Thanks, Rex,” says Emma before she pulls the door open. She pulls her jacket closer and open her eyes wider; the rain drips off the front of her hood to her nose to her collar and she cant help but feel more awake. It’s thrilling. Emma can’t remember the last time she walked alone in the rain, or, further, the last time she had no place she needed to be on time.

The sidewalks are almost empty, and the yellow, red and green reflects along the street only to be interrupted by the headlights of a passing car. Emma breathes for a moment, and holds her hand to catch the rain.

grandma took emma and her sisters to the house on the lake, where it would rain, but it was hot rain, and the four of them would run out in bathing suits with umbrellas and emma remembered how silly it seemed to mix the hot and the cold and to jump into the water- so warm! like a pool!- and her grandma would laugh at them, all running and jumping in the warm rain, laughing and screaming and emma and her sisters would take fistfuls of water to throw at each other until they realized it was far better to slap surface of the lake, and then to jump in entirely, and emma stood up, gazing at the sky with her palm up, catching droplets in her small hand as though it was the first time she had seen rain

Emma wishes she could check the time. Her usual grocery store closed at ten, and she knows it’s late. Hugging her jacket a bit closer, she picks up her pace.

Emma turns her eyes up, and sees families in the window. Across the street, to her left, she sees a couple watching a screen. They face her, almost. The man is awake, entranced, and the woman’s eyes are half open as she leaned back, a hood draped over the top of her face. Their hands sit just a centimeter apart.

Further forward, a yellow glow illuminates a child’s shadow as he jumps up and down. A small dog appears and even from her distance, Emma is sure she can hear high, bubbling laughter.

Emma turns right at the corner and realizes, as she picked up her pace, a flier is stuck to the bottom of her boot. The paint bleeds along the ground and mixes: a noticeable pink slides into noticeable blue and sparkles in the streetlights.

when emma first saw paint slide together, it was her canvas under a garden hose as her uncle scolded her- just trying to help her, he insisted, she couldnt hope to spend so much time painting when her family needed her! how would her mother care for a family with no help? how could emma let her sisters go hungry with no help at all? and emma watched her tears fall the same way the colors bled down the canvas face as she lay her neck on natalie’s shoulder and her hands ran down her back “im sorry,” natalie whispered over and over and with eyes closed emma saw her caramel hair and warm brown eyes, the way they crunched when emma told her there was nothing at home, or her father had gone again- but natalie would not stay for long emma wondered what would have been if natalie could have stayed, pink lace over sheer tank tops and ivory-smooth fingers, but the Hamptons were calling and natalie’s family couldn’t let them alone, leaving emma drowning in a mess of color, all together on the ground and hardly any different, she decided, than it was before

The grocery store is open. It’s quiet as she takes off her jacket to shake it from the raindrops, and she sighs. It’s quick, to find the milk, along the back wall. he savors the peace as she reaches to the shelf and jumps as it’s warm. “Agh!” she yells and drops it.

“Sorry,” laughs a man from behind the wall of milk in the back of the store. “Just restocking. We’re almost closing, you know.”

“Oh, yeah,” Emma laughs too, a little shaken. “I don’t normally come out so late. You know, realized the milk was spoiled at home.”

“Happens,” he said.

Then he adds, as Emma picks up her carton and moves towards the aisle, “but then, of course I was startled by a girl who grabbed my hand when she was reaching for the milk.”

“I didn’t mean to,” she says.

“It’s alright,” he says. “Some people just got so much in their mind they don’t know what’s going on. I write poetry, you know? You just gotta express it sometimes”

“Well, those people should focus, then!”

“Goodnight to you, too.”

And Emma finds herself back in the night air, a gentle tapping on her hood her only companion. The cars are fewer and farther between as they move to illuminate the ground before her. She’s polite, she tells herself. She’s perfectly polite and shouldn’t have to worry about what people say.

“you just gotta express it somehow,” charlotte said, her auburn curl dipping below her shoulder as she cocked her head to the side, “i don’t want to see you like this” and emma, of course, was pacing across the apartment floor as though she was trapped, sitting for a few moments and getting up again as though somehow that would bring her family what they needed for as much as she hoped to bring them everything there was always something missing and the more time she talked to them and the more time she spend at family reunions the farther away she felt but she couldn’t tell charlotte because she would never understand! charlotte, with her brother on call! charlotte, draped across the sofa luxurious as the sun set and tilting her head back as she laughed! charlotte, whose father was proud of her every movement! charlotte couldn’t possible understand and emma couldn’t tell her! “come on,” charlotte pleaded, “you’ve got to do something, oh, em,” but it wasn’t even that em wouldn’t bother, it was that emma wasnt em and she’d bothered before and wasnt sure she wanted to bother at all and- “out!” she’d declared, and charlotte had laughed nervously before turning to rage and despair, picking up her scattered things and leaving emma alone, no longer wanting to pace at all-

Emma takes off running. The pinpricks of raindrops come as relief as it pinches her face. It soaks through her shoes and the bottom of her pants. There are almost no lights and it takes almost no time to reach her lobby.

“Welcome back, Ms Alvarez,” says Rex.

“Thank you, Rex! Have a good evening too!” and Emma realizes she does not know if he has a family, or a home, or what he likes, even though she has talked to him for years.

But it is as though she is submerged as she hears her heart in her ears. In an eternity and in moments she is in her apartment, tearing open the cabinet closes to the window. Out fall her canvases, white and plain, paints spilling out on the ground as she screams and saves as much as she can, and soon the canvases are up and there is her grandmother, posed as though she is alive, drops of rain falling around her in the hot summer sun. There are her three sisters, playing in the water, flailing around them with an audible joy. There is her mother and father with the pride of their home, their hope and joy in there eyes. There is Natalie, posed on a window seat, her eyes warm as she gazes into the stars. There is Charlotte, her head thrown back in eyes-closed laughter. There is Lisa, in a field of flowers that slowly come to life around her. There is Rex, even, but Emma has created a family and Rex is at the center, jubilant and for once, impolite. There is even the grocer, sitting in the harsh artificial light but surrounded by the tranquility of his mind and a softer smile, pencil in hand.

Emma does not know when the rain stops in the night, but when the sun rises, she sits alone, paint-stained fingers, gasping as she gazes at the flat images on canvas, colors hardly different from where they were before.

#nights #by #frank #ocean #nightsbyfrankocean #thisiswhatnightsbyfrankoceansoundslike

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