#the manager at the park we lived at kept lying and gossiping behind our backs

[revolutionidiot]

Guess who’s being evicted!!! 🥰🙃

[amjustagirl]

Chapters: one. ~ two. ~ three. ~ four. ~ five. ~ six. ~ seven. ~ eight.

Wordcount: 2.7k

Summary: Being with Miya Atsumu is like chasing a storm - equal parts exhilaration and danger. After all, it’s impossible to tame a storm

Masterlist here 

AO3 Link here

Atsumu didn’t get his name on the National team roster, let alone the Olympic team because of his genius setting skills (unlike dear Tobio-kun),  but because of the stubbornness and determination that he has in spades and figures he might as well deploy these same qualities to win this particular match. Osamu is of zero help here, muttering insults under his breath but fortunately, he has an unwitting accomplice in Shino, who happily babbles about how ‘mama is going to bring her to the park on Sunday’ . 

So armed with onigiris pilfered from Osamu and a box of mochi from her favourite dessert shop, he goes a-hunting for his wife and child at the park on Sunday afternoon and finds them lying on a picnic mat in an open field framed with trees.

‘Oto-san! ’ Shino squeals and dashes into his arms. He lifts her up, spinning her in the air, pressing kisses to her chubby cheeks. 

‘What are you doing here, Atsumu?’ she demands as she sits up. ‘How did you even know we’d be here?’ 

He winks and gives her his most dashing smile. It doesn’t seem to work though - the frown on her face deepens, but he tries not to let her look of distrust slice through the smile on his face. 

‘A little princess gave me a hint that her mama still has a habit of going to the park to watch the birds and clouds in the sky. Right, Shino?’

Shino cheers and waves her arms in reply. 

‘Good girl!’ he laughs encouragingly. 

She folds her arms and is about to retort when Shino demands that ‘Oto-san and Oka-san’ try to catch her - and takes off, barefoot on the grass. Atsumu catches her easily with one hand - because of course he does, a three year old is hardly a match against a national athlete, even with an injury, but Shino pouts when she sees the cross look on her mother’s face, and she has to hastily rearrange her expression into something more acceptable to her daughter. 

He counts it as a point won when they share the onigiris and mochi in silence and watch their little girl chase butterflies in the grass. 

‘What on earth are you doing here?!’ she says, feeling as if she’s woken up from a bad dream to find it actually is her reality. 

Atsumu stands in the foyer of her office building, in the middle of a conversation with Yuna-san, the resident office gossip, who shoots daggers at her when he bounds over to greet her with a peck on her cheek. 

‘I thought I’d surprise my dear wife with lunch,’ he drawls, with an emphasis on the word ‘wife’, passing her a bento box that smells amazing and makes her mouth water despite herself.

‘What are you playing at?!’ she hisses while pretending to tuck his hair behind his ear.   

‘Nothing!’ he answers her, a too-innocent look on his face. ‘And you’re welcome. Enjoy your lunch, sweetheart!’ 

He counts another point won when she’s left gaping at him incredulously as he prances off. 

He pats himself on the back for the stroke of genius that prompted him to pass Shino the three tickets to the Osaka Aquarium. Before she could utter even a word, Shino shrieked in excitement at the thought of being able to see her favourite penguins again, so with gritted teeth, she agreed to bring Shino to meet him at the aquarium on a Saturday afternoon. 

‘Did you know seahorses mate for life?’ he remarks to her as Shino gathers with the other children in front to watch the penguins being fed. 

‘And male seahorses are the responsible ones who bear their young - what’s your point anyway?’ she responds, contempt dripping from her voice. ‘Anyway, never mind that -’ she continues, brushing him off. ‘Have you signed the divorce papers?’

‘I forgot,’ he tells her lamely. 

‘See that you remember to pass it to me next time’, she says, walking ahead to scoop Shino up in her arms. 

Point lost. Time to recalibrate. 

‘Atsumu! What the hell am I supposed to do with FIFTY rolls of toilet paper?’ she shrieks over the phone. 

‘I may have bought a little too much…but there was a great discount!’ he responds sheepishly. 

He’d overheard a conversation between her and Osamu yesterday that she needed to make a grocery run but hadn’t had the time to do so in between endless meetings with her boss. He concedes he may have gone a little...overboard.

‘And how many cans of milk powder did you buy?!’ he continues to hear her scrabble through the cardboard crate outside her home. ‘Atsumu!’ 

‘Gotta go, bye darlin’ - talk to you soon!’, he says, hastily ending the call as she screeches at him. 

Shit. Another point lost.  

He brings out the big guns by buying season passes to the museum of natural history, gambling that a blatant appeal to nostalgia might win him some points. But he knows she recognises his gambit when she corners him while Shino is playing with toy fossils in the sandbox. 

‘Atsumu. When are you going to sign the divorce papers?’ she demands, her grip tight on his elbow. 

Defend. Counterattack. 

‘I’ll sign them after my collarbone heals and my arm is out of the sling, alright? I can’t even hold anything in my right hand, let alone sign anything now’, he says with a false smile.

Hold your opponent off until they start to tire. 

‘Fine’, she mutters, shooting him a hard stare. ‘Make sure you do. I’ll be waiting once that sling comes off’. 

Fuck. He’s backed himself into a corner. This might be a harder match than he imagined. 

He offers to look after Shino on a Friday evening when she mentions to Osamu her boss organised a client dinner that she can’t miss. She’d nodded reluctantly after a moment’s hesitation, and they agreed that he’d drop the little girl off at home around ten p.m. 

He fumbles with the keys pilfered from Osamu, pizza box balancing precariously on top of Shino’s pram and after an undignified struggle, manages to squeeze in through the doorway, finding the apartment completely still. With his one good arm, he lifts Shino from the pram, careful not to disturb her slumber and treads softly to her bedroom, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead as he tucks her in. 

As he returns back to the entryway to fold the pram away, a glint of gold catches his eye, and he forgets to breathe when he realises what it is – the wedding ring he'd deliberately left behind, an act calculated to inflict maximum pain. Wow, he really wishes he could go back in time and punch that stupid prick of his past self - he thinks, holding the ring up to the light, failing to spot any flecks of dust or dullness to the sheen of the ring. She's kept it meticulously clean, sitting in the exact same spot he left it, the sole artefact of their marriage that's been preserved against the passage of time. 

After all, he notices that she’s wiped the place clean of him, that much is obvious when he turns to survey the home he left almost a year ago. There are signs of Shino in the toys scattered all over the worn carpet in the living room, colourful scribbles on the walls that probably makes her fret, and there are little touches that remind him of her - the chipped teacup she insists on using, the set of handmade knives displayed in the kitchen that was always intended by her family as a threat. 

But there are no traces of him - no stray pieces of clothes or volleyballs that he always forgets to put away (that she’d always get on his case for), no picture frames of them, not even the ones from their wedding day that he’d loved because he thought she looked like a snow maiden from a fairytale in her white kimono. 

He’d promised her father that day he’d always take care of her. He wonders when he’d forgotten that. 

‘Tsumu?’ he hears her murmur, and he jumps a little in shock because he hadn’t noticed her curled up on the couch. ‘Have you come home?’ 

Yes – he aches to answer, but does not. 

(Because he knows he chose to turn his back on this little apartment, filled to the brim with happy, golden memories. It’s his fault he can’t call this place home, not anymore.)

‘I brought pizza in case you’re hungry’, he does say loudly – carefully keeping his distance as she sits up and shakes the sleep from her eyes. 

‘Oh. It’s you’, she says, and he can hear cold steel return to her voice. ‘Why are you still here?’ 

‘I brought pizza to share. It’s Friday night, remember?’ he answers, plastering a grin on to his face, gesturing at the pizza box on the kitchen table. ‘I even got pepperoni, your favourite’. 

‘You can’t keep playing this game, Atsumu’, she says, walking over to the switches to flick on the lights. It brings her into clearer focus, allowing him to notice the pink scars stretched across the back of her hand and the front of her knees -  were they always there before? 

His eyes sweep over her form - and oh -  his heartbeat thunders, roaring in his chest because she’s wrapped herself in his old jacket - the same one he’d stolen from Osamu and threw over her trembling shoulders that fateful night when he stole a kiss from her for the first time.     

‘I miss you’. He blurts out, startling himself. ‘I want us to be a family again’. 

‘I don’t’, she answers so forcefully it makes him take a step back. ‘I want a divorce, Atsumu’. 

‘But why?’ he persists, ignoring the spike of panic coursing through his blood. ‘If you give me a chance, we could try to start over again.’

‘How many chances do you think you deserve, because you’ve already left me  twice, damn you!’ she shouts, pulling the jacket tighter around herself, as if to keep herself from unravelling apart. ‘The first time you left me when I was pregnant with our child was enough of a blow – but the second time I fell to  pieces and if it weren’t for Shino and ‘Samu, I would’ve never been able to weld myself back together again. And now after all this time, you want me to take you back?’

‘It’s only been a few months’, he pleads, hating how stupid his excuses sound, even in his head. ‘I should've managed it better, I should’ve talked things out with you instead of just leaving, and if I could rewind time and change what I did, I would, but I can’t, and I regretted it so goddamn much when I got to Milan. I’m back now, I’m begging you - please give me another chance.’ 

‘Why would you even think you deserve another chance’, she laughs, the sound fraying at its seams, sending shivers down his spine. ‘You’ve spent our entire marriage putting your dreams first, Shino a distant second, and me - your fucking wife - dead last. This past year has taught me that I don’t need you, ‘Tsumu, I don’t need your lying, cheating ass in my life when I can manage perfectly fine by myself’. 

‘I didn’t cheat on ya’, he defends himself heatedly, but she levels him a hard glare that makes his gaze slide to the ground. ‘I mean - I thought about it, but I couldn’t go through with it’, he admits, guilt flooding his belly. 

‘Is that supposed to make me feel better?’ she says dryly, rolling her eyes. 

‘Yes - no - I don’t know.’, he answers. ‘Look doll - I know I’ve been an asshole, I know I’ve hurt ya badly, but I know you still love me - you know your face gives ya away when you lie’, he adds, when she opens her mouth to contradict him, and she closes it in defeat. ‘Otherwise you won't be wearing my jacket when you sleep, neither would you keep my ring clean. And if ya love me, don’t ya think you should give me another chance?’

Her face twists in anguish, and there’s a rush of shame in his chest that he tells himself to ignore, reaching forward instead to cup her cold face with his hands. She winces at first, almost as if his touch is scalding, white hot with heat, but soon surrenders when she realises his grip on her is unwavering, lifting her gaze to meet his. 

‘You can’t do this to me, ‘Tsumu’, she says, her voice brittle, echoing with an aching sadness that tears a hole into his already gaping heart. 'You can’t leave as and when you feel like it and return when it suits you – that’s not how marriage or fatherhood works. And it’s not fair for you to try to guilt me into taking you back. Why should I give you another chance only to end up being hurt again? I'm only human, and there’s only so much my heart can take'.

It’s only then that it hits him that while she may have transformed herself in his absence into a woman of iron and steel, her heart is still made of glass, and a single careless touch might shatter her into fragments across the floor. And he knows he shouldn’t strike her any further with his words, but he’s a selfish fool of a man - always has been, always will be - so he pretends he does not see her pain  (looks deliberately away from the fissures in her heart that might cause her to fall apart) and continues to press hard. 

‘Please - just trust me enough not to hurt ya, I just need one more chance. Tell me ya still love me - even now.’ 

‘I do, oh gods, I do, ‘Tsumu-  ’ she gasps, almost as if she’s drowning in a whirlpool of his selfishness, her breath tipping over into a broken sob - ‘I love you, but our marriage is over - it was over the minute you put yourself before Shino and I, and left us behind to fend for ourselves.’

He shakes his head, desperately flailing against the death knell in her words - because it can’t be over, he refuses to accept it’s over, what does she mean it’s over - but he stills when she chokes back her tears to smile, lifting her hand to meet his. 

‘I’ve already paid you with my heart, ‘Tsumu - don’t you think I deserve to be free?’

Her words swirl in his mind as he makes his way back to Osamu’s flat. 

‘Things didn’t go so well, I take it?’ Osamu asks as he lurches through the door with overcast eyes. 

He inhales slowly through his nose. ‘Nope’, he admits, exhaling in defeat. ‘She isn’t prepared to take me back.’ 

Osamu pulls out a chair at the kitchen table and waves him to take a seat, sliding a plate of reheated curry rice under his nose when he does. ‘Eat up’, he says, not unkindly, and Atsumu does, even though the smell makes his head spin and every swallow of food lodges itself painfully in his stomach. 

‘Go on, say what’s on yer mind’, Atsumu says, knowing his brother too well to see through his posture of nonchalance. ‘I know you’re gonna tell me ‘ I told you so ’ and mock me with some insult intended to make me feel worse than I already am’. 

‘I’m not going to gloat, if that’s what you mean’, Osamu says mildly. ‘All I can say is that the heart is a funny, fickle thing, and sometimes it hungers for things it knows will only bring pain. But I think ya know you’ve reached a point where you need to consider whether you can live with yourself for constantly causing her pain.’ 

Atsumu stays silent, fingers tracing absently over the outline of the wedding ring in his pocket. He wonders if he’s imagining the coolness from the metal seeping into his skin.

[julemmaes]

Alone together // part three

Matthew Fairchild and Lucie Herondale modern au

Okay I’m so so so so so sorry this is so late (and it sucks so I really don’t have any excuses) but I’ve been so caught up with my new gang (you don’t really wanna know about that) that I didn’t have time to do nothing.

I’m obviously blaming them cause it’s easier but reality is another one and it’s just that I’m a very shitty writer.

I wanna dedicate this part to one of my favourite human being. This is for you my love @taco-taco-belle, I hope you like it at least a little bit cause you’re literally the only reason I could do this:)

Words count: 4,535

"You gotta be shitting me." The guy took a break, laughing sarcastically and rubbing his hand to his face desperately. "You’re fucking with me." he whispered.

Lucie and Christopher, who were still arm in arm, exchanged a worried look before returning their attention to the empty shelf. The price tag as clear as the sun said Pot Noodles Original, but there wasn’t a single package in sight. It was as if suddenly everyone in London had decided to go to their trusted store and raided it.

Matthew seemed to be on the brink of a crisis.

Lucie was about to touch his arm, to get him away from what seemed to be his worst nightmare, but Christopher’s phone vibrated against her side. The boy didn’t seem to notice, and Lucie gave him a little nudge, "You got a message." Matthew turned to his friends, "If Jamie wants the noodles for Cordelia, tell him he can go fuck himself." Lucie chuckled and shook her head, thinking that if there was only one box and the message was really James’s, he would bring it to him running.

But Christopher’s expression was not amused at all, Lucie noticed, while reading the message. He paled, holding the phone tighter between his fingers, turning off the screen.

"Kit?" Matthew asked with a confused look, taking a step towards them to peek at who had texted him, but Christopher clutched his phone to his chest, looking lost. He blinked several times, trying to understand. Lucie and Matthew could almost feel the gears of his brain working, "It’s Grace, she..." he took a step back and the girl who was tied to his arm was forced to leave him. " I have to go, guys, I have to-" he interrupted, turning to Matthew, "I’m sorry Math, I can’t stay. I would stay if I could, you know, but I have to... I’ve got to go."

Matthew looked at Lucie worried, before shaking his head, "No, you don’t have to apologize. We’ll see you tomorrow." As soon as the words came out of the blond’s mouth, Christopher shot to the exit. Lucie remained motionless for a second before starting to chase after him, Matthew right behind her.

"Kit!" she screamed, trying to stop him, "What happened?"

They walked out of the store, waving at the owner, and Christopher stopped in the middle of the street, starting to walk backwards towards his car, "Something happened with Tatiana."

Lucie held her breath and heard Matthew whispering a soft shit.

Everyone knew Grace well.

When James had met her many years before he had managed to keep their friendship a secret for a few months, but his sister and his best friend had begun to notice strange behavior and they had asked him questions over questions until he gave in and told them everything. Grace’s parents had died when she was little and Tatiana, who had risked losing her son Jesse shortly before, had not thought twice about taking her under her wing, but things had become ugly in a very short time. She locked Grace in the house with her brother.

Tatiana had lost her father and her husband during a shooting in the centre and from that moment on, she had gone mad, locking herself in her small house in the countryside, far from everything and everyone, "far from the dangers of the city", she always told her brothers. She had closed herself up so much that Uncle Gabriel and Uncle Gideon had found out that she was pregnant only during the sixth month, when Tatiana was no longer able to hide it, avoiding to meet them inventing excuses not to let them visit.

"Do you need us to come along?" Matthew asked again as he began to walk with a quick pace towards Christopher, who shook his head "No, I have to go alone. I’ll call you if I need a hand." And then he turned around, got in the car and drove away.

Lucie took a deep breath, thinking about how hard this must have been for Grace, and how much Christopher already cared for the girl, to go help her in the middle of the night.

Damn, she should’ve gotten him to tell her what happened on their dates on the way to the market. Although with the distance between the house and the store she would surely be able to ask only the details of the first date, at least she would have done some gossip.

She was still tormenting her hands, thinking about her cousin, when Matthew put the scarf around her neck, placing it in her jacket, "Are you okay?" Lucie first looked at the scarf and then Matthew, with a raised eyebrow. He shrugged, "You were shaking, I’m fine even without it."

Lucie smiled at him and felt her stomach twist again as her cheeks turned red. She gritted her teeth, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

It had been a few weeks since she first realized that being around Matthew didn’t make her feel like it did before. That every night, when they met at the bar and their hands even just brushed, she needed a few seconds to recover from their contact. That every smile he gave her was like a fist to the chest pushing all the air out of her lungs.

There had been one episode in particular, that Lucie had decided not to tell anyone, in which he had passed behind her, laying his hands on her hips not to make her trip and she had dropped the two drinks she had just prepared, too shocked by the reaction of her body, which felt like electricity had just passed through her. Matthew had immediately moved her from the broken glass by lifting her up into the air and placing her behind him and then started to clean in her place, without saying a word. For that thing she got a very shitty lecture and had to apologize several times to Catarina, the owner of the bar.

"Are you listening to me, Lu?"

Lucie withdrew from her thoughts, nodding absentmindedly, "Sorry." she said shrugging, "It’s just that we’re all so exhausted from work and these-" she shook her hands midair, as if to indicate everything that was going on in their lives lately, "These things and we meet every night, that’s true, but I see how everyone would prefere to stay home and sleep."

"I don’t think they feel forced." Matthew answered with an arched eyebrow as he was shaken by a shiver. Lucie frowned, starting to undo her scarf, but a warm hand landed on hers and her brain shorted out again. "No, you keep it, I’m not cold." he smiled, moving a blonde strand that had fallen on his eyes. "If you start feeling too cold though, you tell me, I can survive a night without feeling warm."

"True, but you shouldn’t." He gave her a light thrust with his arm, winking at her.

Lucie flared up, focusing on not stepping on the pavement lines. "Anyway," she resumed, returning to the initial topic, "I’m not saying that they feel forced, I just think maybe we need a few days to relax." she scratched her forehead, squeezing her eyes for the light coming from inside the nearby Mc Donald’s. She saw Matthew nodding slightly.

He kept his eyes fixed on her, she could feel it. She felt it from the way every fiber of her being was yelling at her to move from his visual range or she would explode at any moment. She was going to talk, to ask him if he had done anything interesting last weekend (although she knew very well that he had stayed home to read the last drafts she had sent him) but she felt his hand slipping into hers and nearly choked on her own saliva. She looked from the ground to their hands and then, with a force she did not know he had, she looked at him.

Matthew’s green eyes were glimmering with an emotion that Lucie had only seen him turn to the people he had a relationship with. It was the same look Jesse had given her many times.

Matthew’s lips were bent up in a sincere smile, not into the one he reserved for the bar’s customers, but she noticed how they were twitching nervously and waiting for her reaction.

She gripped her fingers around Matthew’s hand and saw how his shoulders relaxed at that contact.

"I know a, uhm..." Lucie coughed, trying to clear her voice that had come out too low to be audible, and heard Matthew chuckled next to her, "I know a place where they make noodles 24/7. It takes a while to get there because it’s downtown, but it’s really nice."

"Lucie, if you’re kidding me right now, I swear I’m not talking to you anymore." Matthew had stopped, forcing her to stand in front of him, but the grip on her hand had become firmer and now their arms were a bridge between their bodies as they looked into each other’s eyes.

Lucie put her hand on her heart trying to hold back the laughs that threatened to come out seeing her friend’s face.

Matthew seemed to have seen the most beautiful thing in the world, his eyes glowed even more than before, and Lucie would have sworn to have seen a little drool dripping from his mouth before his tongue licked on his lower lip.

Lucie’s eyes darted away, "I swear on our friendship," Matthew made a coughing grin, taking a fist to cover his mouth, "that I am not lying to you and that the place is called Dear Lord, Ramen." a giggle escaped her control.

"Now I know for a fact that you’re fucking with me because there’s no way I don’t know about a place called like that." Matthew started walking again, this time closer to Lucie than he had ever been. So close that their shoes touched every step they took.

"Did I swear on our friendship or not?" she asked spying on his reaction with the corner of her eye.

She saw him nodding as if lost in thought and then they were silent for a while, while Lucie took them across the bridge to Potters Fields Park.

She began to feel her shoulders stiffen, perhaps she should not have specified that theirs was a friendship twice in a row, while they were holding hands at three o'clock in the middle of town when everyone else had left or stayed home because their other half was too tired to stay. God, now that Lucie was thinking about it, they were all alone because everyone else was holed up in their homes like old couples. Maybe Matthew was right, maybe they were all old dudes.

She cast a worried look in his direction trying to understand if her words had bothered him, but on Matthew’s face there was carelessness and what Lucie could only define as pure happiness. She relaxed again, detaching her hand from Matthew’s and before the boy could miss her presence, she put an arm around his and put their hands back together. He smiled at her, tilting his head to the side and leaving a kiss to her hair.

If someone had told her a few minutes before that the nigt would end with her and Matthew walking the cold streets of London, she would have never believed it.

They had just passed Christopher’s favorite cupcake shop, when Matthew interrupted that comfortable silence they had created, "Do you want to hear some bad noodle jokes?"

Lucie opened her eyes, smiling, "Of course I want to hear them."

Matthew cleared his throat, standing still, ready to recite the ugliest lines Lucie would ever hear in her whole life, she was sure, "Okay, then. What do you call a fake noodle?"

Lucie twisted her mouth thinking of an answer, "A needle?"

Matthew pulled back slightly, confusion in his eyes. "What? No-What?"

"I don’t know, I said the first thing I could think of." Lucie retorted.

"An impasta."

"Not funny, try harder."

"Rough crowd, I see." she scoffed, but he smiled widely, "My housemate told me he went to the noodle bar and got food poisoning..." he made a short break, to create suspance, "I was like ‘Why would you even order that? '"

Lucie sniffed a laugh through the nose, but nothing more. She turned to him, with an expression that said ‘can’t do anything better?'. Matthew then started making jokes over jokes, and even though Lucie seemed amused, nothing was really making her laugh. At least, that’s what she wanted the boy to believe. She was having the time of her life, and the fact that they were still holding hands was just a plus.

"Okay, since the good-guy jokes don’t seem to make you react, I’m gonna start with things a little bit… stronger."

Lucie tensed. The flirtatious behavior was a feature of Matthew’s. He always had it, and it was one of Lucie’s favorite things on the face of the earth, but in that moment, if he had made a sexual joke, she would probably have died on the spot. "Oh shut up. They were all beautiful and I’m dying of laughter." the fake laugh s made was one of the ugliest laughs either of them had ever heard, and that led to real laughter. Lucie hoped to have distracted Matthew from the idea of saying dirty things, but it didn’t seem to have worked when he stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, turning slightly towards her and placing her hair behind her ear.

He got menacingly closer and when his lips touched her skin, a shiver ran down her back, paralyzing her. She felt the hairs of her arms standing up and her cheeks reddening, when Matthew came even closer, crushing her against his chest, "What do girls and noodles have in common?"

Lucie closed her eyes, trying not to think about the closeness of their bodies or the fact that Matthew was talking noodles to her, which if she focused too much on would have ruined what had just been created there. If it wasn’t for every point where their bodies were catching on fire, she would probably have laughed out loud, but as she was struggling to catch her breath, laughing was something completely foreign in that moment. All she could come up with was a feeble, "I don’t know."

She felt as Matthew’s lips bent upwards against her ear, "They both wiggle when you eat them." His voice became more hoarse than she had ever heard and had to hold back the sound of awe that went up her throat. Her eyes fluttered open.

She was about to turn to him and Matthew’s lips brushed her cheek. And she knew that if she moved half an inch she could finally kiss him. She moved in his arms and he made her back away a few steps until her body fully adhered to the wall of the bulding. He put his hand on her cheek, pushed her face up towards him.

They were looking each other in the eye and Lucie had described that color so many times on the pages of her notebooks that this could only be a dream. She had tried to capture that spark that made them so alive with dozens of words, but nothing had ever done justice to that green that she loved so much.

"Matthew."

Their lips grazed and then the ringing of a phone cut through the silence. The boy jumped backwards making an exasperated noise. Lucie tilted her head back and slammed it against the wall, closing her eyes, annoyed, while Matthew answered the call.

Obviously their first kiss would not have been in that moment.

Obviously something had to go wrong and ruin everything.

"Anna?" He asked him with a confused look, as he approached Lucie again, placing his hand on her face gently and fixing her scarf, as if it were something he did every day. Both of them opened wide tehir eyes when the girl shrieked through the phone, "Where the hell is Christopher?"

"He had to go to Grace’s place. Why?"

Lucie pulled away from the wall, telling Matthew to put the phone next to her so she could hear better. A very bad feeling was forming at the mouth of her stomach.

"Because he just texted me, ‘If mom and dad ask you, I’m sleeping at your place, don’t worry.’” she said in a slightly calmer voice, but always worried, "As if writing such a thing at three o'clock at night was normal." Anna snorted. Lucie pictured her passing her hand in the hair. "I’m out with Ari, but if he needs anything, we’ll get to him immediately."

"Nono, don’t worry about it." Lucie immediately said, taking the phone from Matthew’s hand. She knew how little free time the two girls had since Ari started working full-time, and that was the first night that the two of them could go out without having to worry about setting up too much. "He asked us to stay out of it this time and in case he needs help, Math and I will go."

"Oh hello Luce." Anna’s voice seemed more than pleased to find out that her cousin was with Matthew at that time and when the girl turned a questioning look to the boy, he scratched his head embarrassed while shrugging. "All right, by the way."

"Don’t worry, Kit is distracted, we all know that, but he seemed more lucid than I’ve ever seen him in my entire life. Nothing will happen." Lucie reassured her, while Matthew shook his head agreeing with her.

"If you say so." Anna sighed, "What are you doing anyway? Are you always with the others?"

Lucie started coughing thinking about what they were going to do a few seconds before they were interrupted and Matthew took the phone, hitting his hand on her back. Lucie couldn’t hear what Anna was saying.

"No, we’re going to eat."

"Yeah at three, yes."

"I don’t know where it is."

"Why do you want to come? Isn’t it your date night?"

"Wait, I’m asking Lucie."

"It’s at the cross between Lafone St and Gainsford St." she said in a raspy voice before he could ask her anything. Matthew raised an eyebrow, raising a thumb up as a sign of question. Are you all right? Lucie nodded, coughing one last time. She had to start reacting better to the image of the boy’s lips on hers, or she’d die soon.

"Alright, meet us there in about 20 minutes."

"No, we won’t be late."

"Anna."

Matthew’s tone became a warning and Lucie immediately realized that her cousin was teasing him. Anna wasn’t stupid, and if there was one person that Math told his feelings for her about, it had to be Anna. Lucie grimaced at him and then heard laughter on the other side of the line.

"See you later and say hello to Ari." Matthew hang up and sighed deeply, staring at the phone with amused eyes for a moment. He put it back in his pocket and gave Lucie a shy smile. He offered her arm and they started walking again as if nothing had happened.

But something had happened. And she couldn’t stop thinking about the feeling of her lips so close to Matthew’s. And their breaths sharing the same air, or the name of the boy who came out like a prayer from her mouth.

They were now five minutes from the park when Matthew pulled away from her and clenched his fists, making Lucie’s eyebrows arch. She was gonna ask him if anything was wrong, if he’d rather go home or something, but he stopped for the third time and Lucie found herself thinking that they would never make it to the restaurant in time if he was about to push her against the nearest wall and started kissing her again and Anna would be right.

Probably if he kissed her right then, they’d never go to eat, and her house was just a few blocks away anyway.

But when Matthew turned, his face slightly pale, Lucie knew that there would be no new kisses. At least not that night. Because the expression on the boy’s face promised only broken dreams and hearts. She took a few steps back, embracing herself and trying not to look Matthew directly in the eye.

She knew she had hoped too much. She knew that night would be the only night she could pretend to be truly loved by someone. She knew Matthew would never consider her except as a friend. She’d already been in that situation, and if she could talk before the other one, maybe she could save herself the apology that someone had to make after an unwanted kiss.

"Lu I-" he whispered, turning a blind eye and rubbing his forehead, "shit."

"You don’t have to say it. I’ve already figured it out for myself." she said much more feebly than intended. "You’re lonely, I understand. It’s hard for me too to be in a group where everyone gets together and shows love to each other every five seconds." She smiled at him with watery eyes, always without meeting his eyes. She was fiddling with her fingernails, biting her lower lip. Don’t cry, don’t cry.

"Tonight was just a mistake, I get it. Really. But please don’t apologize." she replied with her eyes downcast. She didn’t want to hear it. If she said that, it would have hurt less, it would have been easier.

"What are you talking about?" Matthew asked, interrupting her train of thoughts.

Lucie felt brave enough to look up and Matthew had his eyes slightly opened, him mouth gaping, as if he didn’t understand why she was telling him all those things. "You mean… Are you saying that-" Matthew stuttered, taking a step towards her, putting his hands in his pocket, "Do you really think it was a mistake?"

Lucie swallowed visibly. She had never lied to Matthew. And she would not start now, even at the cost of making a fool of herself. She shook her head no lowering it again, but the surprised sigh that seemed almost a laugh from her friend made her raise an eyebrow.

"Oh Jesus, Lucie. How can you think those things," he sounded so happy, "after I almost kissed you against a wall and after we held hands for an hour?" he laughed. “I don’t go around holding hands with strangers, you know? I usually keep it for the special ones.”

Lucie felt a rush through her body, "You’re the one who started acting weird by letting go of my hand." she replied slightly raising her voice so that she could hear her.

Matthew laughed, "Yes, because I’m trying to tell you that I like you and I’m nervous, Lu."

Lucie’s head snapped up, and she finally looked Matthew right in the eye. His cheeks were red and he was torturing the edge of his jacket. Well, it was obvious he was nervous.

But she didn’t care that he wasn’t relaxed. She was more interested in the fact that the guy who had driven her crazy the last few months just told her he liked her.

"I thought," she shallowed again, "I thought you were gonna tell me it can’t work. I’ve been there, Math." Lucie noticed how he gritted his teeth before he spoke.

"Yes, I know. And it also seemed to me that we had already talked about the fact that the only one who lost something was him."

"I don’t want to talk about Jesse now." she murmured, approaching him.

He made a sly smile, "No, definitely." he placed a hand on her cheek and she leaned on that long-awaited touch.

"But I’d like to hear more on the subject ‘I like you’, you know?" she drawled positioning herself so that her chest was pushed against his body. She stretched her neck and laid a soft kiss to his jawline.

Matthew brought both his hands to her hips, "Oh yeah?" he kissed one cheek and then the other, blowing on her nose, before leaning his forehead against hers. "I like you, Lucie. I had for a long time."

She smiled calmly, starting to feel her eyes pinching.

"And I never did anything to make you understand that," he continued, "and I’m sorry I wasted all this time. But I’m not going to let you go now, if that’s what you want." he said in a soothing tone. His eyes still glimmering with that emotion so strong, so fierce, that lit up his whole face.

"Don’t let me go." she said with graceful simplicity.

Matthew stretched out to her and finally their lips touched, melting in that kiss.

They had waited so long, both unaware of each other’s feelings, yet their hands knew exactly where to rest and their lips and tongues how to dance.

Lucie had had the opportunity to kiss some boy, but she had never felt so alive. She had never felt her heart overflowing with joy.

And the boy before her, who was now breathing her as if his life depended on it, who had protected and reassured her when she needed it the most, whom she had considered as a brother for much of her life, but that was the furthest thing from a brother he could represent.

Lucie almost broke off screaming when Matthew’s phone rang again.

"Anna, fuck you, I just did it." he said, answering exasperated, passing a hand through his hair. Lucie burst into laughter when a chorus of joy from the two girls exploded on the other side of the phone. He saw Matthew looking at her with a satisfied smile. "We’re coming, but please don’t call again."

The boy didn’t even give her cousin the time to say  goodbye that he was on her again. Hands stuck in her hair and eyes closed as he kissed her desperately.

They just stood there and basked in that new sensation for a few more minutes and only when Lucie was fully satisfied and her lips were given the right attention they broke off. They burst out laughing, hugging again and holding on to each other.

"Let’s go eat noodles, Math." she said, taking him by the hand and pulling him towards the restaurant. "You deserve it."

But he stood still and looked at her, smiling too broadly. "What?" she asked, smiling faintly. He shook his head and began to walk beside her, "Nothing. It’s just the best night of my life." She nodded and gave him a stealthy kiss on the cheek.

"Well, at least now we can be alone together, right?" she asked.

Matthew chuckled, "You will never be alone again, Lu. I promise." He gave her a quick kiss on the lips, and then he started running, leaving her behind, while he screamed that if she didn’t hurry, they would surely run out of noodles and he would never be able to eat anything.

Lucie burst into laughter, started running after him.

Yeah, that was definitely the best night of her life.

MY HEART

taglist

@tyherondaletrash @clara-sm @cordelia-carstairs-owns-me @tessaherongraystairs @idontgetit-whydoihavetosaymyname @jamescordelias @grxceblqckthxrn @thecerridwen @stitch-kiss @alastairlightwxod @ahiretsinging @allofmywonders @tremendousheadachecollector @tlh-tea @taco-taco-belle @city-of-fae @ifeelfreewithoutmyshoes

[thenamesseven]

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Angst

A/N: FINALLY! I’m so so sorry for making you all wait so much for an update. Truth was school is taking up most of my free time with homework and by the time I get some free time I’m too tired to do anything. I felt a bit desmotivated about writing but I think I’m back again! Thanks for being patience and I’ll try to update sooner, like I used to do before. Sorry again! Enjoy the chapter ^^

When Park Jinyoung called his employees into his office it was extremely obvious something was very very wrong. Being called by the boss to discuss private manners wasn’t something that brought good news, in fact, it was always related with somebody being fired or somebody getting yelled at for doing something wrong.

Unfortunately, even when they thought they would never go through something like that, the day when Jackson and Jaebum were called by their boss came and none of them knew what could possibly be wrong. Since they had spent the whole afternoon trying to come up with a plan to find you and bring you back home with them, none of them had checked out their social media and realize what was truly going on.

Sitting on some stiff yet pretty uncomfortable chairs, the both of them waited patiently until Park Jinyoung spoke, he only looked at them quietly, trying to think of a way to explain the big problem without getting insanely mad at them.

“What’s this”

Jackson and Jaebum jolted slightly scared when the stack of paper JYP had been holding, landed on the desk situated in front of them pretty hard, hard enough to send some sheets away before one of the boys could read whatever was written on them. By the way they looked some of them seemed to be magazine articles, the ones online pages post and the others were things posted in social media, specially Twitter and Tumblr. None of them dared to reach out and take one of the papers to read them though, whatever was going on was bad enough to have Park Jinyoung fuming in front of them when they were more or less, the favorite group of the company.

But by the looks of it, they have fucked up big time.

Since none of the guys seemed eager to reply to the easy question, JYP sighed, attempting to get some answers once again “I’m going to ask again and this time I expect a reasonable answer” He looked at both of them, leaning back against his chair while he pinched the bridge of his nose. Jackson and Jaebum knew him well enough to know that whatever the problem was, it was stressing him out a lot and that it would only made the issue even worse. “What’s the meaning of this?”

It was Jaebum the one that caught the sheet of paper Park Jinyoung tossed away. With insecure hands, he cleared out his throat and held it far enough for Jackson to read it with him. His eyes scanned the paper nervously, not really focusing on the paragraphs below but on the colorful details that could instantly give him some clues about what was truly happening. The first thing he noticed was the name of one of those gossiping magazines that are always following idols around, they had people hidden with cameras everywhere, ready to snap the perfect picture and manage to ruin their lives and careers by revealing rumours or secrets that shouldn’t have been revealed. 

His stomach started turning into tiny notes that made him feel incredibly horrible. Jackson and him were hiding an incredibly big secret after all and it definitely wouldn’t be good if it had been leaked out of nowhere, without them having enough time to prepare for it. It really wasn’t a good time for that kind of drama, specially right after you were kind of missing.

Jackson, who was already fearing the text underneath the name of the magazine, had only managed to read the first sentence before his heart started beating so hard and loudly that he could feel his brain pulsing in synch with it.

The article said:

An anonymous message that has been recently received finally gave some meaning to the pictures we posted earlier! Jackson Wang, mostly known for being a successful rapper and part of the boy band GOT7, was spotted exiting his apartment earlier in an agitated way. The reporter that was there clearly saw how he was crying but also shaking with frustration, impotence for some unknown reasons that now are not so unknown.

Thanks to our anonymous reader we know that apparently Jackson and Jaebum are sharing that same apartment with an old friend who surprisingly is a female. Her name is (Y/N Y/LN) and luckily, our best researcher managed to find her instagram. We won’t post the username here but down there you can see a picture, kind of pretty isn’t she? Who wouldn’t want to date her?

Now get ready my dear ahgases because apparently and trusting the information this anonymous reader passed us, Jackson and Jaebum are in an open relationship with this female. Yeah! The three of them are dating, living together and doing all the heated things you all describe in your fanfics behind doors. 

Jackson was seen crying after-

Jaebum crumpled the paper in his hands, making it a small ball before tossing it away. Jackson kept his eyes down on the floor one of his knees had started bouncing nervously, as a reflex of his body to get rid of some stress, shaking his head dissapointed while his fingers fidgeted with the hem of the shirt he was wearing. Honestly, he wasn’t thinking about the consequences this scandal could have for Jaebum and him, Jackson couldn’t help but think about how stressed you were probably feeling after your face, name and some other intimate things had been exposed to the public so suddenly and without any consent.

“What the fuck is this bullshit?” Jaebum suddenly spoke out, frowning as he looked at JYP straight in his eyes. Jackson, who hadn’t been expecting that reaction, turned his head towards his direction slightly surprised.

“J-Jaebum” Jackson slightly worried his language would only make things worse, attempted to warn him, to shut him up but that didn’t stop his boyfriend

“You better start explaining and pray…Fucking pray that there is an explanation that won’t led to the two of you being fired and kicked out from GOT7” Their boss sat back down onto his chair, breathing heavily as he stared at both males waiting for one of them to start explaining.

“Do you really think I’m dating him?” Jaebum pointed at Jackson with his thumb,the latter only raised one of his eyebrows to glance at him. If Jaebum wanted to die and try to save all of their asses, he better start playing his game too.

“Dude, am I that ugly?” Jackson scoffed leaning back against his chair, rolling his eyes

“This is not something that we should laugh about. This freaking article is appearing in every social media, even in some news channels” The two boys quietly gulped at that, you had seen it for sure then and they didn’t even want to think how their families were probably feeling about this scandal.

“I’m sorry but I really do not understand why the company hasn’t deny this rumour yet” Jackson told him, erasing the small smile from his lips to look as serious as he could “Not only are they damaging our image but they’re also putting in danger somebody who we consider our little sister and not a fuck toy that we could share”

Jaebum nodded to Jackson’s words, poker face on as he stared at his boss. He looked really serious and slightly angry on the outside but inside? He was about to cry and start panicking, Jaebum had never been so scared before “(Y/N) has been our friend for years, she’s been living with us for so long too…Don’t you think that if we really had a relationship with her it would have been leaked by now?”

“With the amount of people that knows us? Probably” Jackson added as if the question had been directed to him “Sir, we never lied to you, we never cause any major problems like this one. Why would we do something like this? Ruin our careers, our success for a girl? No thanks”

“Exactly” The words hurt Jackson, he knew you didn’t deserve to be spoken about like that but if it worked, it would probably safe their careers and your reputation, if that was still possible.

“Then why the hell were you crying Jackson? What the hell happened?” He asked, still not completely believing the words that were coming out of their mouths.

“We had a really strong argument in which we said some pretty nasty things to each other” Jackson explained, he wasn’t really lying, things have been rough for the three of them. The male was just omitting some details that would definitely get them in trouble “It got to the point where she left, only leaving a note behind saying goodbye”

The room stayed in silent, Jackson’s broken tone echoing through the room as silence took over it. Park Jinyoung sighed, leaning back against the chair once again as he stared to the ceiling, attempting to go through the entire situation in his mind. He didn’t believe the guys completely but he didn’t have the clues to accuse them of lying either.

If the rumour stayed going through people’s social media the situation would only kept getting worse and worse and it would simply be impossible to deny the news at some point, ruining the reputation of some of the best idols the company had along with the one of an innocent girl.

Sighing, Park Jinyoung, CEO of JYP Entertainment, stood up and looked down at both of them “Get out of here, let me try and sort this out” 

-○-

Not too far away from that room, Jinyoung sat by himself in the lobby where they usually hang out during their little breaks in their practice sessions. Mark, Youngjae, Yugyeom and Bambam were there too, having some coffee as they talked about Jackson and Jaebum. Since they whole group knew about their relationship, the guys couldn’t help but be slightly worried about them what honestly surprised Jinyoung. Weren’t they worried about their own future? He didn’t mean to be rude but had they stopped to think what would happen to them if the group disappeared? Honestly, Jinyoung hasn’t fought so much for his dream to be ruined like this. You could say that was the reason he hasn’t said anything about yet, or maybe it was because he knew exactly what was going since he had been the one who sent those pictures to the online magazine. 

Leaning back against his chair, with his legs crossed, he kept messing around with his phone, checking out some social media to pass the time when he stumbled onto a couple of tweets that caught his attention. At first, Jinyoung just wanted to read them because of the drama but then when he realized what the issue was, his blood turned cold and his heart stopped beating for a second. 

“We all want that bitch out of our lives, why would she try to get involved with our two oppas?”

“Sluts are meant to be ashamed, you can’t let them do whatever they want”

Those were the beginnings of a trail that was full of original threats and insults that you wouldn’t even know existed. Jinyoung knew immediately who they were talking about, after all this was the effect he had expected after the anonymous message he sent to that online magazine started spreading through the internet. Messages like this will be the ones to make Jackson and Jaebum realize how much their fame could hurt you if anything of your relationship went wrong.

What he didn’t expect was the replies underneath where some people were planning to go and look for you, something that was totally crazy and unthinkable for Jinyoung. Were there fans who would go to that extent for two guys that would never know they existed? Even though something in him knew his plan was going the wrong way and that the backlash you were getting was way worse than he had expected, Jinyoung kept reading, eyes widening when he read the things they were planning to do to you if they find you.

Stumbling, the male stood up abruptly almost spilling his hot coffee all over the table. The guys looked at him, noticing how scared and tense their friend was but still none of them asked any questions and just waited for him to explain what was going on. However Jinyoung knew you didn’t have much time and that explaining everything would only make his chances of finding you smaller. 

“Where are you going?” Yugyeom finally asked, too curious to hold the question back.

Jinyoung only glanced at his direction, face as pale as a ghost, he grabbed his hoodie from the chair and shook his hair, quietly telling them he didn’t have the time for explanations. “It’s (Y/N)” He simply said, pushing his phone out of his pockets to dial your number “Tell Jackson or Jaebum to call me as soon as they get out”

After saying that Jinyoung simply exited the break room, phone glued to his ear as he desperately prayed that you would answer the phone.

Nobody picked it up though and he could just hope that it wasn’t too late for you.

-○-

You didn’t know how much time had passed since you were dragged back into the alley by this unknown girls, all you knew was the pain in your body indicated something was probably broken after all the kicks and punches they threw. You were confused to say the least, since they seemed to know about your relationship with Jackson and Jaebum but none of the guys had called you to warn you about the situation, honestly, you would have never thought that if the fans ever found out about your relationship some of them would react the way these girls did.

They had walked after getting tired, only saying that a bitch like you would learn her lesson after the pain they inflicted on you. Your eyes were dry, there were no tears left to cry at this point and your throat was sore after all the begging you did. Your eyes were staring to get swollen, your vision was becoming incredibly blurred and unfortunately, your body was too weak to move an inch.

You would have called the police or even an ambulance if your phone hadn’t been stepped on and broken in your face, you could simply lay there on the floor praying to whatever God was up there that somebody would find you.

It was scary yet crazy the things some fans could do for their idols. You didn’t blame your guys though, this wasn’t their fault even though it was their fans were the ones that did it. In fact, you found yourself wishing to be with them, receiving all the love and affection they always gave you when you weren’t feeling well….If only you hadn’t ran away.

“(Y/N)!?” 

You tried opening your eyes more, move your head towards the direction of the voice in order to see if you had hit your head so bad that you were now starting to have delusions, it was impossible Jinyoung was in the same alley as you, the guys were probably preparing for their new comeback.

“(Y/N)!?” When his voice sounded closer, you unconsciously frowned. What was he doing here? How did he find you? “Oh my God, what did they do to you?”

Looking down at you made Jinyoung feel like the worst person alive, you were drifting in and out of consciousness probably too weak to open your eyes and look at him. With shaky hands, he kneeled down besides you and rested your bleeding head on his knees not even caring about staining his new sweatpants. You groaned in pain, complaining about the movements as he gently brushed some of your hair out of your forehead, looking around, not really knowing what to do.

He never planned this to happen, the only thing he had wanted to do was scare Jackson and Jaebum to death, separate you from them so when the secret came out you would be far enough to not get hurt like this. You didn’t deserve this, what happened to you was extremely unfair and totally his fault.

“I’m going to get you some help” Jinyoung whispered, trying to dialed an ambulance but his hands were shaking too much and his eyes were full of tears “We’re going to the hospital”

“Where are they?” Jinyoung didn’t need to ask to know who you were asking for, it was normal that in this kind of situation you would want to see Jackson and Jaebum.

“They are okay, JYP needed to talk with them” Jinyoung replied, managing to call an ambulance “You’ll be okay (Y/N), just don’t fall asleep on me alright? You need to stay awake”

Using the last bit of strength you had, you nodded to his words, keeping your blurry vision on his face as he asked for an ambulance to come as fast as they could but tiredness was calling for you, the pain was overwhelming and deep down you knew that as soon as you closed your eyes everything would be gone. Who knows? Maybe all of this was part of a twisted nightmare, those that were too real for your own good. 

“Please come as fast as you can, she’s losing consciousness again” Jinyoung pleaded, gently slapping your cheek with his hand to keep you awake.

“(Y/N)?”

You weren’t opening your eyes anymore, you weren’t even moving your head to him when he spoke.

“(Y/N)!? Oh god, (Y/N)?” He asked again

But nobody answered this time.

[memoirsofamessybitch]

In My Mind Part 7

Joe x Fem Reader

Warning; Strong Language/Fluff

The gap between 6 & 7 wasn’t as big as 5 & 6 and THAT is an achievment we can all get behind!

Enjoy!

Prologue  Part One  Part Two  Part Three  Part Four  Part Five  Part Six

“I'm not an easy person to be around, In fact I sometimes don't even like being around me” after a long silence I finally spoke. I didn’t want to give him any kind of delusion or illusion. The truth.

“I just don't see that Y/N....not in the slightest. You've been the highlight of my days on set, I know I may seem like 100% all the time but I struggle. Big time. God I just wanna...” He looked at me longingly. I bit my lip and sighed with my whole body. 

“Do you like insert favourite food?” I wanted to avoid any more speeches that would lead to touching. Mostly because I was naked under my robe and...I didn't want to start something that;

one: I wouldn't be able to stop myself from finishing and

two: I think would ruin this if rushed into too fast.

“I fucking love it” Of course he did, this man was perfect! 

I sniffed once more and dabbed my nose with the sleeve of my robe and noticed that he was fidgeting a little, then he spoke. “Are we doing like first date questions because I was totally going to actually take...”

“This is the first date stupid....make yourself at home, I'll order in and make myself less... naked” I touched his shoulder, signalling him to step aside so I could go get changed. As I brushed past him, his hand tickled my own and I felt my stomach knot up. I kept walking and changed into the cutest “comfy” clothes I had. When I returned I noticed Joe flicking through my portfolio. I always kept it on the coffee table. It's a great conversation starter.

“You worked on Star Wars?” I nodded and exhaled remembering the most stressful 3 months of my life. I slumped down next to him and pointed to generic alien I spent hours getting into makeup.

“Yeah I wasn't called back for The Last Jedi, but this paid off a lot for me, this got me some of my best gigs...and worst” I looked off, my brain almost forgetting Joe was sitting next to me.

“Okay scale of one to ten....how much do you hate this film we're working on” Joe smirked nudging me with my portfolio. I rolled my eyes and shook my head.

“I ain't saying shit, I know you're friends with the director...” I giggled like a child and covered my face. “Let's not talk about work....that's more like second date vibes. This is the part when you ask me about my childhood, what I like, what I don't like....you know date stuff”

“You really wanna do the generic first date questions...okay...lets do this” I kicked my feet up on the couch and got myself comfortable as we engaged in deep conversation. He told me about his family, his love for films. How many bones he has broken, his first kiss with “Sam Neil” which after him showing me a YouTube clip from Jurassic Park to refresh my memory caused a roar of laughter.

I brushed over my past very hazily. I focused mostly on my post College years. Rather than before. I thought Joe struggled to read the room, especially when it came to me, but he could tell I wasn't overly comfortable talking about anything earlier than that. And that just made me adore him even more.

I showed him photos of me and my friends, asked him about his. We played never have I never while eating dinner by my half melted candelabra I fished out from my broom closet. For ambiance of course. We drank only a little wine. I wanted to keep this as PG as possible. And of course Joe respected that. He even helped me clean up and heat up some hot water for some late night cups of tea.

“I can't believe you've NEVER yelled at a crew member, I do it on the daily” I leaned across the back of my couch and watched him busy around my kitchen area.

“I know you do, but I believe I certainly wouldn't have a job without the efforts of a crew. We are all as important as one another, even the interns you cuss out constantly” I covered my face in slight embarrassment.

“Ugh why are you so pure and wise, quit making me feel bad...how dare you” he chuckled and stirred our tea's one at a time. The slight clinking of my china cups drowning out my shame.

“When you've been in the business as long as I have, and worked with some of the people I have....you grow to have nothing but respect for an entire film crew. I know you respect them, just might not like them” I threw myself back on the couch and groaned.

“STOP” I looked up at my ceiling as I listened for Joe's footsteps back into the living area. He stood above me with the tea and shook his head.

“Never” he replied to me in the most over the top villain voice he could muster. He put the cups down, so I sat up and let him back into his seat. I went to sit back in my original position but he took me by the shoulders gently and eased me down so my head and shoulders were resting on his lap. I looked up at him with a genuine look of wonder in my eyes. Okay, surely i was asleep in the tub...this couldn’t be happening...so I opened my fat mouth.

“Serious question”

“Oh god” Joe replied with a slight chortle to it.

“Once the film is over....” My brain immediately went back to how it was thinking before. Joe's hand covered my mouth softly. I knew what was coming next.

“I understand you're still feeling a little nervous about this....trust me Y/N. I'm sticking around” His hand moved and revealed my smile of relief. Then his hand moved to play with my hair. Next thing I was snoring gently in his lap. 

                                                      *******

My eyes strained from the morning sun coming through my living room windows. My neck was stiff as was my back. I was on my couch with an arm lying heavy across my body. I felt someone breathing on the back of my neck. I grew even more ridged as I remembered last night.

Jesus, Joe and I must have fell asleep on the couch together. My very uncomfortable couch. I tried to sit up but Joe groaned half asleep still and held me tighter.

“Joe...Jooooe” I whispered gently shaking his arm. His hand gripped my waist tightly as I continued to call him and shake him.

“What” He groaned. Perhaps he was much more comfortable than I was. 

“Um...morning” I said in the sweetest voice I could get from my croaky throat first thing in the AM. I wiggled around awkwardly to face him as his eyes were slightly open.

“Hey” he whispered sleepily with a cute little smirk on his lips.

“Didn't have this in mind last night did you at all?” He shook his head in response and began to rub my back. His eyes opened more as his hand trailed down lower and lower. I didn't stop him, I maybe should have but the mornings always had me feeling a certain way. His hand stopped at my ass and squeezed gently. I smirked and lent in to kiss him. He didn't pull away so I guess he was game, even if it was just some early morning groping. 

My free hand rested on his waist as our kiss became a little more repetitive and a little more intense. Eventually I found myself on my back and Joe leaning above me resting his head on his right hand and his left hand running across my collar bone and down my chest. He looked at me with sleepy wanting eyes. I looked back at him with a similar look. The left hand kept travelling to the waist band of my sweats and then under them.

“Just tell me if you're not....”

“ssshh” I put my finger against his lips. As Joe's hand slipped deeper into my sweatpants, my heart was beating loud enough to hear above and below us. 

However a sudden series of vibrations coming from Joe's crotch caused us both to jump in surprise. He instantly took his hand from the inside of my sweat pants and rummaged around his own pants pocket for his cell. I rolled my eyes and then rolled off the couch carefully onto the floor.  

“Uh what time are we due on set” Joe asked shakily.

“7 am” I groaned back at him rubbing my eyes.

“Well its 9am and I have 12...now 13 missed calls from the stage manager”

“Fucking FUCK” I scrambled to my feet and rushed into my bedroom to change.

“You wanna ride in with me” Joe shouted through my closed bedroom door. I stopped hurriedly putting on my jeans to contemplate the offer for a moment. Would save me an ear ache if I went in with Joe....but then....I wasn't keen on everyone knowing about Joe and I. And gossip on the lot spreads faster than the flu.

“Um...maybe not...” I opened the door and looked at him disconcerted. He nodded.

“I totally get it, I don't wanna like put any pressure on you....”

“I just don't want anything to ruin this....I like....us” I groaned once more and rubbed my lower back. Note to self, get a new couch.

“I like us too kiddo. Okay but let me take you out tonight...I owe you for last night” The loving beam that came from him made what awaited me at work worth it. I got a good look at him in that moment. His hair full and fluffy mess. His half smile was enough to give me butterflies for the rest of the week let alone the day. His t-shirt half tucked in his pants. I could get used to seeing him in the mornings like this.

“What for shitty take-out and a lumpy couch” I snickered, I really knew how to show people a good time.

“And?? I loved every second of it” He winked at me. I very visibly blushed. Joe met me at my bedroom door way and planted a very gentle but warm kiss on my cheek.

“I'll see you on set”

“Okay” I exhaled through my words and watched him walk out. I stood a little dumbfounded for a moment. Unable to continue getting ready. Am I dreaming...or am I delusional. Everything felt a little too perfect. I heard my phone go off in my jacket pocket, it hung behind my bedroom door. I rummaged for it and answered straight away knowing what befell me as soon as I did.

“WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU....YOU ALREADY ON THIN FUCKING ICE” I didn't even care. I couldn't stop smiling.

Please let this work...please let him be different....please let this be something

[mypassionfortrash]

Nothing Serious (Parts 7 & 8)

SUMMARY: You and Roger decide to make a go of it and behave ‘like a normal couple’ in the wake of The Sun running a damning exposé on Roger’s love life and his divorce – and your disastrous attempts at dating other people. He also drunkenly makes you an offer you find hard to refuse.

Roger Taylor x Reader; Modern AU; Strictly 18+

💫 CATCH UP HERE! 💫

TAGS: @jennyggggrrr​​​; @sarahgurl09​​​; @sunshine112​; @biscuit-barrel​; @sitonmyhot-seatoflove​; @jhoemazzellhoe​; @justgivemethekeys​; @qweenly​; @picturepowderinabottle​

NOTES: Thank you so much for all the lovely feedback on this; I honestly didn’t think anyone still gave a shit about my fics anymore, so I’m glad you’re enjoying it. Again, any and all feedback is greatly appreciated!

[Part 7]

The morning after that awful date, you and Roger decided to – in his words – “Make a go of it.”

This meant him sleeping over at your place every other night. According to Roger, this was to avoid rousing suspicions. But actually, Roger just loved being around you.

Your habit of neglecting your dishwashing duties didn’t bother him. And you couldn’t care less that he was more of a morning person than you; you enjoyed lying in bed, listening to him singing Taylor Swift in the shower. His day didn’t start until his bandmates kicked into action, so with time to spare, he always made you breakfast in bed, and packed you lunches to take to work. He insisted. When he learned that you always skipped breakfast, he was dismayed. This became a habit for him, looking after you. Mornings, evenings, everything, ran like clockwork.

Even sex.

That promise Roger made in Ibiza about teaching you a thing or two? That was long gone. Tamed and domesticated,  he loved missionary and whispering sweet nothings in your ear while he pumped you full of baby batter on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays – with double helpings on Saturdays. And neither of you minded. 

What your sex life lacked in kink and depravity, it made up for in a kind of intimacy that you doubted you’d find elsewhere.

So that was love. Finally.

A fortnight on from the Night of Terrible Dates, a sunny Sunday morning, Roger slid out of bed. He fumbled in the dull orange glow, tugging on a pair of jeans and a tattered t-shirt; he didn’t bother to comb his hair. It didn’t matter. He was only going to the end of the street to bring you your Sunday coffee. A proper one. 

Roger gently kissed your forehead and left you in a sweaty heap in bed. 

You shot him a dumb, delirious smile, watching him leave and trying to psyche yourself up for the notion of getting out of bed. You only knew one move in the bedroom, but you sure knew how to tucker yourself out, you huffed to yourself.

You got up, slipping on one of Roger’s t-shirts. Then you padded through to the bathroom. Your makeup from the night before had burrowed into caked lines around your eyes, and your foundation flaked around your nose. Drawing your cheeks up into a measly grin, you assessed the damage. And wondered how Roger put up with seeing your ugly mug in the morning.

You had no idea how he did it.

You got a bit carried away, though, feeling the last of Roger’s seed dribble down your thigh. Staring down at the offending swimmers in disgust, you fumbled for some loo roll to dispose of them once and for all.

Above the flush of the toilet, you heard the door slam. Roger was home. And it made your heart race. Kind of like the way dogs get excited to see their owners when they come home from work. You laughed at the thought. 

“Hey, Roger… Am I a pug or a lab?” you asked, watching as he slipped off his shoes.

“Huh?” he asked, turning around. He looked gormless, peering at you through his glasses with his mouth hanging open.

“I was thinking,” you began, throwing your arms around him, almost sending your coffees flying, “About how excited I get when you come home. I’m like a dog that gets all hyper over seeing its owner.”

“Right?” he asked, wondering where this was going.

“So I was wondering whether I’m a pug or a labrador. What do you think?”

He narrowed his eyes, a goofy smirk spreading over his lips. “I think you’re more of a terrier. Small and yappy.”

“Well, in that case,” you pouted, crossing your arms. “You’re a chihuahua.”

“Very funny. We all know I’m more cat than dog,” he quipped. When he safely managed to remove you from him, avoiding any spills, he made his way into the living room and slapped a newspaper down on the coffee table.

The bold, red stripe at the top made your heartbeat accelerate. “What are you buying that muck for?”

“Brian texted me this morning. Dom’s told them everything. That Charlotte girl’s sold her story. And they have eyewitness accounts of how I forced a crying girl out of the toilets in a French restaurant two weeks ago.”

“Fuck,” you sighed, folding your arms and trying not to laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“All of it,” you said. “This is just our luck, isn’t it? The girls at work are constantly pestering me for information about you and I don’t even know what to tell them anymore. They know more about us than we know about each other.”

“How are we supposed to be a normal couple if this is going to keep happening?”

And then a lightbulb dinged above your head. Your eyes lit up as you threw yourself on to Roger’s lap. “Why don’t we do that?”

“Do what?” Roger asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Be a normal couple. Keep our noses clean. Do everything normal couples do.”

Roger tucked strands of your hair behind your ear as a smile broke across his face again. “How do you propose we do that?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. See our friends. And if they talk, they talk. We need to be careful about what we say, though. But it might go well for us.”

Roger nodded, pressing his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “This could definitely work. But if we fuck up, they’ll never stop hounding us.”

“It’ll die down soon, though, won’t it?”

“I wouldn’t be so certain. Remember, I’m going to Montreux at the end of the month. So, you’re on your own if anything goes wrong.”

Feeling defeated, you sighed. That had slipped your mind. He’d be gone for two months. Maybe even more if arguments got the better of his bandmates.

Roger stroked the base of your back. “I’m only thinking about you,” he said, his baby blue eyes turning more and more watery. “I want you to be safe and for no one to bother you. And if anything else got out, how are you going to take it?”

You cupped Roger’s face in your hands. Your noses touched and your bodies pressed together.

“We’re going to need to get your friends on board,” he sighed, twirling strands of your hair around his fingers. 

“Do you want to meet them?” you asked.

“It can’t hurt, can it?”

A week later, you and Roger sat in his Panamera outside your building. It looked so out of place parked on a rammed residential street; it belonged outside a mansion or an opulent Notting Hill townhouse. You were dressed to the nines, poised for Roger to meet all of your coupled off and drowse-inducingly dull friends. He vibrated with nervous energy, but that much you could deduce from how he talked.

“Now tell me again what I’m not supposed to say to Cassie?”

“Don’t crack dead baby jokes in front of her. I, personally love them. But her and whatshisface have been trying for over a year and they’re looking at IVF now, which is going to wipe them out. She’s had like three miscarriages.”

“Got it,” Roger nodded, chewing his lip. “So is there anyone going tonight that’s actually… you know… fun? Do they have a sense of humour?”

You shook your head, loathe to admit that these people were your friends. You collected them back when they were much more adventurous; in high school when the only things that bothered you were which Charlie body spray your mum was going to buy you that week, or how you were going to score a packet of cigs on your lunch break. Now they were all paired off with kids. Some of them dropped out of uni when they met ‘the one.’ Some of them didn’t even make it to uni. “None of them are particularly funny. Their humour got dumped out of their uteruses.”

“Right,” Roger said, starting the car. “This is going to be a long night.”

“I’ve got a bottle of fizz in the fridge for when we get back. Thought we’d need it.”

“I knew there was a reason I kept you around.”

“What? The mild drink problem or the disdain for boring people?”

“Mild? I’ve seen how much you swallow on a school night.”

“Impress my pals and I’ll swallow more than a bottle of prosecco.”

“You mean, you’re actually going to shove the whole bottle down your neck? Now that, I need to see.”

You and Roger sat side by side as your friends grilled you. It felt like you were on trial. They asked him everything. Why he got divorced. Why he was on Tinder. Why you. And then. The question of your thirteen year age gap came up.

It was Grace. The gossip. She leaned over the table, as far as she could, with eyes bulging out of her head. Her stubby fingers gripped her glass of gin and tonic. 

“So, he’s so much older than you,” she guffawed, darting her eyes between you and Roger. “Bet it turns him on.”

Roger’s fingers found their way to your lap, and tangled with your own, locking your hands together. “Actually,” Roger began, glancing at you, “I think she’s lovely. She could be twenty-four or eighty-four and I’d still adore her.” When he finished that sentence, he looked so proud of himself – flushed cheeks and glassy eyes. He gave your hand another squeeze.

But that wasn’t the answer Grace the Gossip was looking for. “Oh, come on! I’ve heard you like shagging younger women.” Then she turned her attention to you, jabbing her finger at you. “And don’t pretend you don’t like him because he’s famous and rich.”

“What are you?” Roger asked, narrowing his eyes. “You’re starting to sound like one of those rats working for the red-tops. Are you?”

“Come on, that’s enough. Both of you,” Jade said, trying to mediate.

“No, I want to hear Grace’s answer, actually,” you piped up. You and Roger exchanged smug looks, while Grace rolled her eyes.

She sighed. “I’m curious. There are plenty of men out there your age. And there are plenty of girls out there Roger’s age. Thirteen years is a lot.”

You sensed Roger slumping in his chair beside you; you felt his disappointment.

“I don’t fucking know, Geraldine–”

“It’s Grace, actually.”

“I don’t give a fuck. We’re both bloody adults and as far as I’m concerned, your mate’s more mature than most people my age.” He looked at you, visibly annoyed. “Are we done here, can we go home?”

“I was thinking the same thing,” you huffed, looking around at your friends. “You should all be ashamed of yourselves, by the way. All of you. You’re all coupled up and you constantly tell me that I should be too. And now I am–”

“It’s not that,” Lily – the mouthpiece – interrupted. “It’s him.”

“And that you met him on Tinder,” Jade added.

You regained your composure, painfully aware that your friends were beyond seeing sense. “And now that I am,” you seethed, “You don’t have it in you to be happy for me.”

“We are,” Cassie, the doormat, cooed.

“Is it because I’m not stupid enough to get myself pregnant within two weeks of meeting someone new?” you asked, glaring at Grace. “Or that I haven’t had to give up my career for a man?” you continued, shooting daggers at Cassie. “Or perhaps it’s because my boyfriend isn’t a fucking deadbeat?” you concluded, directing that remark at Lily and Jade.

Your friends looked at each other in stunned silence.

Lily slapped her hand on her husband’s. “He’s not a deadbeat. I mean he’s quiet, but at least I know when he gets bored, he’s sensible enough not to trade me in for a younger model.”

Cassie was next to refute your claim: “I quit my job by choice. He got a better job and he supports us both. I’m happy.”

James, her husband, nodded.

“Well, if you’d like to keep lying to yourselves, then I’m sorry but I’m out of here. I don’t have the patience for this,” you announced, throwing down you and Roger’s share of the bill, plus a tip. You got to your feet, stretching out your hand which Roger gladly took. “We’re going home.” You cast an eye over the stunned table. “And if any of you want to apologise, remember what you did wrong before you go bashing us. We’re happy. This is the happiest I’ve ever been. And if you were any kind of friends, you’d support that.”

Your friends said nothing as you and Roger stormed out of the restaurant at breakneck speed. But when the pair of you got to the front door, Roger mumbled something, staring straight on ahead.

You didn’t quite catch it, so you leaned in closer to him. “What was that, Roggie?”

“You were amazing,” he repeated with a faint simper on his lips.

You gave his hand another fleeting squeeze, feeling a swell of pride in your chest. “So were you.”

When you were safely inside Roger’s car, you both sank with relief. “That was a nightmare, wasn’t it?” Roger said.

“Yup.”

“Suppose that’ll end up in The Sun?”

You turned in your seat to face him, wearing a serious expression. “Hope not.”

“You never know who to trust,” he warned, speeding off in the direction of home.

He didn’t say much for the rest of the journey back. Choosing to drown out the thought of your horrible evening, he turned his playlist up. The one he made for you. And belted no less than five love songs at you on the journey.

It earned a few cautious laughs from you, too. But the seed of doubt grew in your mind. What if you couldn’t trust your friends anymore?

The pensive silence stuck around like a bad smell well until you arrived home. You stood in the hall with your back to Roger as he shuffled your coat off your body and hung it up.

Then his arms snaked around your waist, his chin propped on your shoulder. “You’ve been awfully quiet, Kitten. Anything I can do to help?” he asked.

You exhaled, turning towards him. Your eyes had gone glassy and your lips curved into a frown. “It’s been a bad night, hasn’t it?” you lamented. 

“It’s not gone that badly,” Roger reasoned.

“Yeah, but what if they hate me now?”

“They can’t possibly hate you.”

“Why?”

“Because… it’s…” Roger paused, shrugging, “Illegal?”

You rolled your eyes and stormed into the kitchen in search of something to take the edge off. “That’s the best you can do?” you asked opening the fridge and plucking out the bottle.

“You know what I mean,” Roger said, trailing behind you. “You’re lovely. And an amazing friend. They should be lucky to have you. And if they can’t see that, then I’m sorry, but they were never your friends to begin with.”

You grimaced, slapping the bottle down on the countertop. A deluge of sadness dropped on to your body like a lead balloon. “I’m twenty-four and I’m back at square one when it comes to friends,” you squeaked, leaning against the counter. The tears weren’t far off; you could feel the warmth burning your eyes. Not wanting Roger to see you in this state again, you bowed your head. Of course, it made the tears fall faster. “This is fucking awful.”

“Hey,” he said in a low, warm voice. “You’ve still got years to meet new people. And makeup with everyone else. You’ve got me. And Freddie was saying the other day, he’d love to meet you. He knows a few characters. You’re only twenty-four. It doesn’t matter.”

But it did.

Roger wrapped his arms around you and leaned his head against your shoulder. “It’s not the end of the world. I’m sure they’ll come round.”

Your whole body shook with grief as Roger held you close. “It feels like it is.”

The following day, you woke up to the sound of the intercom ripping through your empty flat. Your eyes shot open as you turned over, clawing at the empty space in your bed in search of Roger.

You heaved yourself on to your feet and padded through to the door, picking up the receiver. “Hello?” you spat.

“Hello, my love,” a sort of familiar voice beamed. “Is that Roger’s lovely girlfriend there?”

Your stomach sank. Surely Roger wasn’t behind all of this?

“Well, is it?” he pressed.

“Uh, yeah. Come on up.” You smacked the receiver down and sped through to your bedroom, slipping into more modest attire. With any luck, you thought, you might be able to brush your teeth before your guest arrived. But you were wrong.

Three loud knocks boomed into your home as you pulled on one of Roger’s shirts, earning a pained sigh from you.

And then another three while you hurried back to answer the door.

“Alright, alright! Hold your bloody horses,” you hissed. When you flung open the door, you found Freddie standing in the hall. He looked inconspicuous in his leather jacket and ripped up jeans, aside from the bottle of Moët he clutched. “Christ, it’s ten in the morning,” you remarked.

“I know,” he grinned, looking pleased with himself. “Aren’t you going to let me in, dear? This bottle’s getting warm and we can’t have that!”

You shuffled aside, allowing Freddie to barge in. “Make yourself at home,” you hummed, throwing your arm out in the general direction of your humble abode.

Freddie sashayed through to the kitchen like a wrecking ball through your lazy Sunday morning. “Roger says you were very down last night.”

“Oh, did he now,” you shrugged, following him. “Suppose he sent you here to make me feel better, then?”

He threw himself into a chair at your kitchen table. “No,” he began, popping open the champagne. “I’m here to talk to you about planning a party, my dear.” He held up the bottle, silently asking for glasses.

“A party?” You threw open the fridge and pulled out a bottle of orange juice; you couldn’t stomach straight champagne this early in the morning. “What kind of party?”

“Oh, I love mimosas,” he smirked. “Get some glasses and I’ll tell you all about it.”

“Already ahead of you.” You opened the cupboard where all the glasses went to die and pulled out two mismatched flutes. You slid them across the table towards Freddie – along with the orange juice – and he got pouring the drinks.

“Well,” he began, placing your glass in front of you. “I’m sure you know, it’s Roger’s birthday next week?” It was more of a question than an explanation.

You nodded in response.

“Well, I thought it might be a nice idea, as one of Roger’s best friends, and you, as Roger’s very beautiful lady friend, to organise a party for him. It’d be nice to celebrate, and it’d be lovely for you to meet everyone. How does that sound?” Freddie asked with a manic look in his eyes.

You knocked back your mimosa in one swift gulp and sighed. “That doesn’t sound too bad.”

Freddie excitedly clapped his hands together. “Excellent! I was hoping we could have it at my house. I have a few ideas for the cake, too! And invites! Yes, I’ve drawn these up,” Freddie rambled, scooting over towards you and whipping out his phone to show you some crisp, white invites with gold borders and greenery around the edges. “What do you think?”

“They’re beautiful!” you smiled. “I’m not sure they’re very Roger, though.”

A mischievous smirk emerged from beneath his moustache. “What do you mean?”

“Let’s make it filthy.”

[Part 8]

“I don’t see why we can’t stay at home and celebrate with a take away,” Roger grumbled, staring out of the window of the car.

“I  thought it’d be nice to get a bite to eat somewhere nice,” you explained, brushing your fingers against his thigh.

The sweltering July evening seemed never-ending and the sun still hung high, even though the clock approached nine.

It was weather for light linen shirts and cropped jeans and sunglasses, hair that smelled like the beach and tanned skin on display. It suited Roger down to a tee, you thought, as your eyes wandered. He scratched at the undersides of his arms, his sleeves rolled up to the elbows. Then, slipping his hand beneath his shirt collar, he sighed as he rubbed his aching shoulders. “But I love your cooking.”

“Would it stun you to know that I’m sick of cooking?”

Roger’s lips curled into a smile as he shook his head. “But it’s my birthday. It’s as good as steak and blowjob day.”

“Well, you can eat some nice steak tonight and I’ll give you a blowie later. How does that sound?”

“Oh, alright!”

The pair of you went back to absentmindedly staring out the windows, every now and again, reaching across the seat to touch hands. The nerves in your stomach brewed, wondering what he would make of the party you and Freddie planned. 

“Hang on?” Roger said, edging forward in his seat as he peered out the window. “Where are we going again?”

“For dinner, Roggie,” you stated. “Why?”

“Why are we going to Freddie’s?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“You’ve been spending an awful lot of time with Fred recently.”

“And what of it?”

“You’ve been planning something, haven’t you?” Roger asked, his voice streaked with giddiness.

“No!”

“Why are we pulling up in front of Fred’s house then?”

“We’re going to pop in and see him so he can wish you a happy birthday.”

“Oh great!” Roger tutted mockingly. “That’s half the night wasted then. No blowjobs for me.”

“Don’t be like that,” you scolded. You reached into your bag and handed the fare to the driver, then you both stepped out on to the street outside Garden Lodge.

“This better be quick! I’m fucking starving,” Roger warned, rubbing his tummy.

You knew how grumpy he could be when he was in the throes of hunger and you hoped the catering and free booze would be enough to sustain him through the night. But there was one thing you were certain of: Roger loved a good party. “Come on,” you urged, grabbing his hand and tugging him in the direction of the large wooden door that insulated the mansion within. You jabbed your finger against the intercom. “Fred? We’re here!”

Fred’s laughter came over the intercom, and then he finally spoke. “Come in, darlings!”

You and Roger exchanged puzzled looks at how jovial he sounded, but then you shrugged and pushed open the gate.

“SURPRISE!”

The garden was packed with anyone who was anyone in the music business. Producers, musicians, even actors and actresses, and models, too. They had all assembled to celebrate Roger’s birthday. You were certain Roger hadn’t even met half of the guests – most of them looked like Freddie’s circle.

Roger laughed nervously as he took in the sight of the garden, decked out with strings of twinkling gold lights and picnic benches. And then, his face settled into a look of wonder, eyeing the waitresses in knee high boots and leather bikinis, doling out canapés. One tall and stony looking blonde thrust flutes of champagne into your hands, and a friendlier flame-haired floozy moseyed up to you and Roger, popping tiny cherry pies into your mouths. “Good?” she purred, relishing how flustered Roger became.

Roger mumbled enthusiastically, catching crumbs that tumbled from his mouth. He had turned a delightful shade of pink as he took in his surroundings. He shuffled up the garden path towards a pair of oversized inflatable legs, spread eagled. Between them, in lieu of the female anatomy, was the door to Freddie’s house. Roger marvelled at them, open mouthed.

From the crowd, ever the perfect hostess, Freddie emerged with a cake. You and him had spent days in bakeries all over London, sampling their wares. But you had finally decided on one. Two glorious mounds of chocolate cake, moulded into an ample bosom, complete with a set of erect, rosebud nipples. The number 38 blazed away beside it. The throng surrounding Roger erupted into a bout of ‘happy birthday.’

Roger looked at you, bewildered and wondering what part you played in this, but you nodded towards his cake.

Roger was always the life and soul of the party, and it didn’t take him long to bust a few moves that you feared might seriously injure him. After all, 38 was two years shy of forty. And that would be really old.

You admired him from one of the picnic benches, as you drained another glass of champagne. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves and you felt completely at home and relaxed on the sidelines. Until Freddie burst into view, dragging none other than Elton John with him.

“My dear, there’s someone I need you to meet!” he beamed, throwing a rather drunk Elton down opposite you. “This is Elton!”

Elton waved and nodded, giving you a quiet, “Hi.”

“Elton, this is Roger’s girlfriend, isn’t she a peach?”

“She’s lovely, yeah!”

“I’m going to leave you two to get acquainted,” Freddie cooed, wandering off to pester someone else.

Unsure of what to say to Elton, you searched your brain for something, anything, to make inroads into a conversation with him. “So,” you began, dragging out that vowel. “How do you know Fred?”

“Me and Fred go way back! All the way to the nineties, would you believe? Back when I was practically bald. You probably don’t remember that, though,” he slurred. “How old are you again?”

“Twenty-four,” you mumbled.

Elton’s eyes bulged. “I knew Roger liked them young, but you’re half his bloody age! I heard you met on Tinder, too? Bold move on Roger’s part!”

“Yeah, he was telling me about some of the experiences he’d had before he met me,” you laughed. “Must’ve been desperate. Hence why he set the bar this low.”

“Oh not at all,” Elton said, flapping his hands. “It’s  nice to see him with a girl who doesn’t look like she’s in it for the money. God knows, that’s all Roger’s got going for him.”

You shook your head. “I don’t know about that.” You glanced over at Freddie and Roger, who were huddled in a corner of the garden, blathering away at each other like a pair of gossiping old biddies. You loved the way Roger laughed with his entire body when Freddie presumably told him a dirty joke and the way Freddie’s eyes bulged when he embellished his stories with theatrical action. “He’s kind and does everything he can to drag me out of my shell. And he doesn’t seem to mind that my friends hate him or that the world feels like we shouldn’t be together. He’s always so positive. I love that.”

“So you’re smitten, then?” Elton said, leaning in. “And you’re serious?”

Your cheeks burned as an awkward smile cracked over your features. “I think so,” you said, nodding with youthful enthusiasm.

“Well, you’re absolutely lovely,” Elton said, grabbing your hands and speaking to you with the wisdom of an old babushka. “I hope this works. Because you clearly make each other happy. And don’t let anyone or anything, take that away from you. Fred and I know what it’s like, having everyone out to get you.”

On the other side of the garden, Roger was busy gushing to Freddie about his party. He had already sunk a bottle of champagne all to himself, and, having loosened up, he was prepared to tell anyone who would listen how glad he was to be spending his thirty-eighth birthday, surrounded ‘by people he cared about.’

“This is so different from last year,” he smiled, looking out at the partygoers. “And it’s the first birthday in a while that I’ve actually been happy. Remember how Dom and I used argue at these things?” He turned to Freddie, looking bleary eyed. “I  love her, Fred. I fucking love her.”

“I know you do,” Freddie said, linking his arm around his friend’s shoulder. “This was all her idea, you know? The legs and everything. I think she knows you better than I do!”

He shook his head, wearing a cute, dumb expression. “I think she gets me. And to think she thought she wouldn’t be enough for me.”

“Nonsense!” Freddie exclaimed, slapping Roger’s arm in a ‘fuck off’ kind of way. “Why ever would that beautiful thing think that?!”

“She was nervous because she’d never really seriously dated anyone before. And then I went and told her how many women I’d slept with. And she got cold feet.”

“Did you tell her how many men you’ve shagged too?”

“Fuck off,” Roger said bashfully. “I mean it, though. I could definitely see myself really making a go of it with her.”

“She loves you very much,” Freddie explained, bolstering his friend. “She told me you make her a nice breakfast every day before she goes to work and that you have her lunch packed for her. Sounds like you bloody well do everything for her. Spoilt little thing.”

“I just worry about her,” Roger admitted, crossing his arms. “Sometimes, when you look at someone, do you ever  see that tiny flicker of sadness there in their eyes? And then you promise yourself, you’ll never allow it to really get a grip on them? Because I see that all the time. I want to look after her. I never ever felt that way about Dominique.”

Freddie glanced at his best friend. “You did all those years ago. I remember you used to make any excuse to see her. Hell, you even sprawled yourself across her desk in Richard’s office one Monday morning, a big fucking rose between your teeth.”

“But this is different.”

“How?”

“I thought I wanted sex and filth and something to take my mind off the whole bloody thing. All that excitement you get when you first meet someone and you fall for them. But I don’t. I don’t have that with her,” he slurred, gluing his eyes to you and only you.

“What do you have? A sore arse? I bet she’s good with a strap.”

“No.” Roger glared at Freddie. “I have this overwhelming need to protect her, like she’s the most precious thing I’ve ever had in my life.”

“Does she know that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well you should tell her before you go to Montreux.”

Roger’s eyes widened. “Fuck. That’s soon, isn’t it? Why – has she told you anything?”

Freddie shrugged. “It’s not really my place to say.”

“But she did tell you something…”

“Yes and no.”

“What is it then?”

“I think she’s worried it might be a bit too soon for you to be apart.”

“And she told you that, did she?” he asked with a pout. 

“Not in so many words. But yes.”

“Do you think I should invite her out?” he asked, turning his head to look at Freddie again. “To Montreux?”

Freddie’s eyes widened as soon as he heard Roger’s plan. “That’s a bloody wonderful idea! I’m planning on bringing my new man, Jim out with me. He could probably do with the company when I’m holed up in the studio with you.”

“You think so?” Roger asked, patting his hand on Freddie’s shoulder.

“I think you should go and ask her now!”

Roger stood up straight and puffed out his chest like a great, brave emperor penguin, ready to journey across a continent. “I think I will!”

“Go get her, tiger!” Freddie called, sending all eyes at the party on to Roger as he staggered up the garden.

You were still deep in conversation with Elton, but silence fell as Roger approached.

“Does he look drunk to you?” Elton asked.

“He looks fucking wasted.”

Roger wore that dreamy look in his eye that could make you do anything, even if he was three sheets to the wind. When he arrived at the table, he almost fell over as he leaned forward to plant a sloppy kiss on your cheek.

“Hello, birthday boy!” you cooed. “I see you’re having a good night!”

“Elton, my man!” Roger exclaimed making finger guns at him. “I’m gonna need some alone time with my woman. Can I steal her away?” he slurred.

“Excuse me?” you blinked. “Your woman?”

Roger flung himself down beside you and put his arm around you. “Sorry. What I meant to say is, I’d like some alone time with this absolutely delectable creature, where I shall seek to woo her with my potent, sexual allure,” he elaborated, dragging his palm down his exposed torso.

You gave Roger a glare that told him he was done for, and, not wanting to attract further attention, took his hand. You led him up between the pair of giant inflatable legs, through the vagina, and into Freddie’s kitchen. Much to your annoyance, there was a crowd of kitchen dwellers dotted around the room, so you continued your journey, further into Freddie’s not-so-humble abode. “Come on,” you said, pulling Roger up the spiral staircase in the hall. “There’s bound to be a room up here for us.”

“Oh, we’re going upstairs,” he purred, giving his eyebrows a knowing wiggle. “I know what that means.”

You continued to lead him by the hand through the tastefully decorated hallway, until you reached what Freddie liked to call the ‘Pink Room.’ You and Roger entered and stood in silence in the middle of the room, gawking at each other.

Roger obviously found the situation hilarious as he searched for something to focus on to take his mind off the fit of giggles that simmered away under his dishevelled exterior. His shoulders bobbed every now and again when a small laugh escaped.

“What’s so funny, Roggie?”

“It’s nothing, sorry.”

You crossed your arms and tilted your head, gauging how drunk your boyfriend was. “It’s something.”

“No, I’m thinking about how we’re gonna shag in Fred’s house.”

“We’re not going to shag in Freddie’s house, Roggie. At least not until you’ve sobered up and told me what you wanted to tell me in the garden.”

Roger’s mouth formed an ‘o’ shape as soon as he remembered why he wanted to get you alone. Then he nodded. He shuffled his feet as he looked at the floor to pluck the words out of his champagne-addled brain. “Fred and I were talking,” he began.

“Uh huh?” you urged him on, crossing your arms. 

“And we were talking…” He continued, his eyes rolling up in his head as he still wore that boyish, naughty expression.

“You were talking and…”

“Well, all the other guys are bringing their girlfriends, and Freddie’s got his new boyfriend and I was wondering, if…”

Unable to contain your annoyance for Roger’s penchant for trailing off mid sentence, you erupted: “For goodness sake, Roger, spit it out!”

Roger puffed out his cheeks at your sudden outburst and exhaled. “Do you want to come to Montreux with us?”

Roger’s proposal came as such a shock to you that you had to stumble around to find a place to sit. Eventually, you found a dusty pink chaise longue that overlooked the garden and flopped on top of it. “Jesus,” you muttered.

Roger dropped to his knees and shuffled over to you, pouting and silently attempting to convince you that this was a good idea for both of you.

“How long do you want me out there for?”

“However long you’d like. Montreux’s really beautiful. We could maybe even stay there?” Roger begged, clasping your hand in his. Shimmering gold flecks from the lights in the garden danced in his tired eyes. “I’d love it if you came with me.”

“It’s a big ask,” you sighed, leaning your forehead against his. “I’ve got work to think about. I can’t just quit. I don’t want to be like my friends.”

“I’ll look after you, though. And you’ve got all of us. We’re a family.”

“I don’t know, Roger,” you admitted. “I think I’m gonna need some time to think about this. I can’t get up and leave. It’s not that easy.”

Roger’s entire body deflated right in front of you, his disappointment palpable as he slouched. “Take as long as you need, Kitten,” he said. His tone became measured and calm now; the sparkle and optimism had disappeared. “Even if you’re able to come out  for a day or two, it’d be better than nothing. I’m gonna miss looking after you when I’m out there.”

“I’ll let you know how I feel in the morning. More importantly, how are you feeling?”

“I’m a bit drunk,” Roger spluttered. “But I’ve enjoyed myself.”

“You’ve had a good birthday?”

He nodded with enthusiasm. “Best birthday in years. And I’ve got you to thank for that,” he said, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “You make me so fucking happy.”

The pair of you scrambled to your feet, your arms enveloping his body. Your head rested against his chest, so close you could hear his heart racing and his lungs slowly sucking in air as you danced together in the window of the Pink Room, and gazed down at the party below. “I love you, Roggie,” you whispered, burying your nose against his shirt to inhale his scent. 

“I love you too, Kitten.”

“How about we head home? Hm?” you asked looking up at him.

He swept the hair out of your face with a contented, heavy lidded smile. “That’s a fantastic idea,” he whispered, kissing your forehead. “I’ll even bring you a nice breakfast in bed to thank you for this in the morning.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

The following morning, you felt the bed dip beside you and the soft, warm sound of Roger’s voice. Bliss. Turning on to your back, you stretched letting all the tensed muscles in your body unfurl and your bones crack back into place with a groan. “Morning, Roggie,” you purred with your eyes still closed.

“Morning, Kitten,” he said. 

You could see the smile behind his words inside your mind. And you could also smell bacon. Your eyes flicked open to find him wafting a bacon roll right under your nose.

“Knew that would wake you up in no time,” he grinned, pulling the duvet over both of your bodies. “I’ve made you some tea, too.”

You grabbed the cup from Roger’s hands and took a swig like it was the holy grail. Your mouth was so dry from all the alcohol the night before that you almost finished the cup in one big gulp. “Thank you,” you sighed, sitting the cup down on your nightstand. Then you went back to the most important meal of the day.

Roger took small bites of his own, in between stroking your hair and admiring you in the golden rays cracking through the blinds. “Did you sleep well, Kitten?” he asked.

You gave a contented groan. “Like a log – how about you?” you asked, curling yourself against his body. “Hungover?”

“No,” he mused, “I feel good.”

“You look tired.”

“I am a bit, but that’s nothing a little siesta can’t fix,” he sighed.

But there was something off. You could tell Roger was holding something back; his body was tense and he had a habit of moving his lips to start a sentence with no sound coming from them when he was too apprehensive about asking you something. Then you remembered his proposition from the night before.

“About last night–” you both began in unison.

“You first,” he said, sounding uncharacteristically coy.

“No, no… you asked the question.”

Roger sucked his lips together, and stayed silent for a moment. Then the lightbulb pinged above his head. “I know I asked you to come over to Montreux, but I don’t want you to feel any pressure to go. You’ve got a life here. You can’t abandon that. I was a bit drunk and over excited.”

“It’s fine,” you said, shaking your head. “I  need to see how many holidays I can realistically take off work this summer.”

Roger nodded. “Ok. I’m not going to pester you about it,  have a think. It might do you the world of good to go out there.”

You gave a haughty laugh, still feeling raw from the invasion of your privacy back in Ibiza. “What like it did when we spent that weekend at the villa?” you asked.

Roger’s features fell. “I’m trying to do what’s best for us. Montreux’s not like Ibiza at all. Fuck, no one even knows where Montreux is. No one pesters us there. Not even Freddie.” He sounded hurt. “Please think about it.”

And then your phone rang. Convenient timing, if only to prevent an argument. You fumbled around on your nightstand for your phone and looked at the screen. It was Jade. “What the fuck does she want?” you mumbled to yourself.

“Who?” Roger asked, peering over your shoulder. Then he scowled in disgust. “Her?”

“Should I answer it?” you asked, glancing up at Roger.

“It’s up to you.”

You answered the call, putting Jade on speaker for Roger to hear. “What do you want?”

“Please don’t read The Sun today,” Jade said, sounding panicked.

Roger sat upright, looking puzzled.

“Why?” you asked, feeling a pit of dread growing larger and larger with every passing second. “What have they done now?”

“Just don’t read it, please.” She repeated her plea with more desperation. “I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry? What for? What have you done?”

Roger tapped away on his own phone and then showed you the screen. On the homepage of The Sun’s website, there were a series of articles about you and Roger. One about Charlotte and Lewis. Blurry phone photos of Roger leading you out of La Rouvenaz after your date from hell. A photo of Roger’s ex wife, with the headline: “Dominique Taylor: My Side of the Story.” And another headline. “Pals Spill the Beans on Queen Drummer’s New Squeeze.”

By the time you had finished reading everything on the page, you could hear Jade whimpering on the other end of the line.

“You fucking bitch,” Roger hissed. “You snake. How much did they pay you?”

“Please,” Jade cried. “I’m so sorry. They got it out of me without me knowing I–”

“I want to know how much they paid you!”

“Ten grand.”

Too stunned to speak, Roger verbalised exactly what was on the tip of your tongue. “Ten grand? Is that how much your best mate’s worth?”

“If I could  come over and explain, I could make things–”

Without saying a word, you hung up. Still in a state of shock, you took Roger’s phone and began at the very top of the page, scanning every single article for opinions on everything from how much you weighed to what you wore. All of your friends had something to say. Some of them even surrendered photos of you from your school days, back when the gang was much more close knit – before life got in the way of your friendships. You were too exhausted to shed tears. Too humiliated to want to set foot in the office again. You turned to Roger, whose eyes had clouded over as he seethed. “Montreux doesn’t sound like such a bad idea after all,” you said.

“I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”

“I think you’re probably the only person that actually cares about me at this point.”

“I hope I’m worth it.”

Realising what was at stake, you spent the rest of your Sunday preparing yourself for Monday. You drafted your letter of resignation, organised boxes to empty the contents of your desk into, and you had packed a suitcase with  enough to get by in Montreux until you found your feet. 

The next morning, you and Roger sat in his car outside your office building in silence.

“Just remember, I’m out here,” Roger said quietly, stroking circles above your knee.

You took a series of deep breaths, doubting your ability to march into the office and drop the letter on your boss’ desk. “All I need to do, is give Stephen the letter, clear my desk and then we can go.” You nodded, walking yourself through the perfectly plotted road map in your brain. “What if someone stops me?” you groaned, throwing your head back against the headrest. “I don’t know if I could face the Spanish Inquisition.”

“Just tell them it’s a family emergency and that you don’t want to deal with it right now.”

“But you’re better at these things than I am. You only have to breathe their air and people like you.”

“What do you care if those idiots like you?” he snorted. Then he grabbed your shoulders, ready for another one of his world class pep talks. “You’re never going to see them again. And if they talk to the papers, you’re not going to be in the bloody country to read it. You’re gonna be chilling on a lakeside promenade, with a cocktail in your hand, enjoying night after night of boring missionary sex with me, your adoring and very rich boyfriend. You’re better than that fucking dump behind you and you know it!”

“Yeah, I guess I am,” you reluctantly agreed. Staring down that the carefully typed and labelled letter in your hands, you huffed. “Guess I’m gonna have to do this now, before everyone else arrives.”

“You’ve got…” Roger paused, looking at his watch. “Five minutes, to complete your mission, Agent Kitten. Good luck.”

You chuckled and grabbed the boxes in the footwell. 

The walk into your poky marketing agency went well. Your legs managed to function and your head stayed high as you sauntered through the doors one final time. The nerves dissipated as you entered the office, weaving your way through the gigantic fishbowl, looking at all the soulless drones, sitting at their desks, tapping away at their keyboards on the company’s next big brand project. And you knew, in that moment, how much you hated it. 

That swell of hatred spurred you on as you stopped by your desk to dump the boxes. Of course, Steph and Cheryl looked up from their computer screens with raised eyebrows.

“What are those for?” Steph asked.

“Nothing,” you spat, turning on your heel towards your boss’ office.

He sat in a glass room at the far end of the main office. He loved to look out on his sea of minions and watch them waste their lives while he collected a vastly overinflated salary that said more about his greed than his talent or work ethic.

You breathed a sigh of relief when you realised his office was empty. You were able to slip inside his glass tank and pop the envelope on his desk, feeling the weight lift off your shoulders once and for all.

Mission accomplished.

Time to clear your desk.

Like a panther on a hunt, you slunk back to your desk undetected, and cleared your personal belongings away, erasing the two years of your life you had spent at this very spot. You removed the photos of your friends from the grey partition boards, and ripped them up. You safely stowed your collection of cacti and succulents in one box. Then you moved on to your drawers; rifling through them for the essentials.

It astounded you how much crap you accumulated in two years. But then, you couldn’t remember the last time you tossed anything out. There were spare packets of star shaped confetti from your first Christmas party, birthday cards, five half empty jars of instant coffee, not to mention a stack of unfinished notebooks and pens in abundance. Knowing where your real priorities lay, you scooped up the bundle of notebooks and pens and dumped them alongside your plants.

You eyed your prized possessions with overwhelming satisfaction. Standing there with your hands on your hips, you realised that you managed this with no resistance from your co-workers. Until Steph lingered beside you.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” she asked, jabbing her finger painfully into your arm. “You’re leaving and you didn’t tell us! Did you get the sack?” she prodded.

“No, it’s an urgent family thing abroad that I need to get to. I don’t now when I’ll be back,” you bumbled, trying to remember the spiel Roger taught you, for use in emergencies. 

“Won’t you have time for drinks?” Cheryl piped up, peering over the partition.

“I’m afraid not,” you said, shaking your head in an attempt to sound disappointed. Inside you were elated. “I need to be at the airport in an hour. Flight takes off soon.” And with that, you grabbed your belongings and headed for the door as fast as your legs could carry you.

But then, your boss slipped through, his face falling when he saw the box in your arms. “Where do you think you’re going? Get back to your desk, I haven’t given you permission to leave.”

You barged past him. His mistake for holding to door open for you, you thought. You could still hear him bellowing down the corridor as you headed for the exit. “Fuck you, Stephen!” you roared, throwing up the middle finger behind you.

Roger was waiting for you as you practically ran to his car. He stood, leaning against it. Sunglasses on, sleeves rolled up, pushing his thick, messy mane out of his face. “How’d it go, Kitten?” he asked, taking the box from you and looking inside at your loot.

“It was amazing,” you wheezed, realising how cathartic the experience was for you. “Threw my boss the middle finger as I left. It felt so fucking good. Better than sex. Better than driving one of your cars. I can’t even describe it,” you wittered as Roger put your box in the boot.

He closed it and turned to you, a smile trying to burst from his lips. “I’m really fucking proud of you.”

“So, now we go to the airport?” you asked, pressing your toe into the pavement.

“To the airport,” Roger grinned, getting back into the car.

“I’ve always wondered,” you pondered as the car hurtled down the motorway, “what happens when you leave the car at the airport?”

“I’m not leaving the car at the airport. Some poor intern at the label is going to come and collect it, and they’re going to put it into storage for me for when I make my return. Whenever that’ll be.”

“Right,” you sighed, remembering that you had a flat to empty. “And what about my place?”

“That’s easy. We can get some removal men in when we get to Montreux and they’ll put all your stuff into storage with my car. For when you make your return!” he explained excitedly. “Whenever that’ll be!”

“Fuck. We’re really doing this, aren’t we?” you sighed.

“Yeah!” Roger grinned, his eyebrows peeking out from the rims of his shades. “We really are!”

Just like the first time you and Roger boarded a plane together, your stomach stretched itself tight with apprehension. But that wasn’t to say you didn’t feel like you were making the right choice. Roger made you happy, you thought as he led you across the tarmac towards the small private plane. When you got inside, you realised it was exactly the same one as before and again, you took care not to touch anything, for fear that some other couple had done exactly what you and Roger had done between your trip to Ibiza and now. 

You and Roger plonked yourselves down next to each other on the leather sofa as stewardesses flocked to you, offering canapés and flutes of champagne. Something to make the flight to Geneva go in  a  bit faster.

The plane took off, and the pair of you watched like excited children as clouds shrouded the plane, and then dissipated just as fast, leaving you soaring through the air, high above home and not knowing when you’ll ever return.

“Should we put on some music?” Roger murmured, twirling stands of your hair around his fingers. “Spice things up a bit?”

“What like last time?”

He grinned, looking utterly irresistible with his half-buttoned shirt and his dark sunglasses. “Exactly like last time. But better.”

You watched from the sofa as Roger got to his feet and wandered over to the stereo.

“Taylor Swift?”

“Nah.”

“Springsteen?”

“We always listen to Springsteen.”

“I know,” Roger giggled, waggling his finger in the air. “I’ve got just the song for this occasion.” 

You narrowed your eyes, waiting for him to hit play on his phone.

The first few bars of ‘Danger Zone,’ boomed through the speakers, sending you into a fit of giggles. But nothing could prepare you for what came next as Roger moved towards you, swaying every part of his body to the beat.

“What are you doing?” you laughed.

“Just sit back, relax,” Roger said, turning away from you. He batted his hips from side to side, bending over to give you an unrestricted view of his bottom as he wiggled and writhed. “And enjoy the view.”

>>NEXT>>

[unikornu]

Page 14, Hit In The Head,

- Whoa easy there, Boss. We still have a lot of work ahead of us tomorrow. Gage could barely unglue Lucy off his chest once she had again one too many drinks that evening.

-Ughhh… the work never ends here Gage so who the hell cares, lets have some fun once in a while. She mumbled under her nose, the heat from the alcohol bringing a warm color on her cheeks. On a one side Gage didn’t like her drinking, alcohol was good for relaxing the atmosphere but in a raider world it was also be the fastest way to get yourself stabbed in a back with the senses dulled to a level of a butter knife but on the other side he almost enjoyed her mumbling and how openly she was flirting with him and teasing to a point that he could feel something twitching in his pants. It was kind of funny but also dangerously tempting.

Normally Lucy used to drink only when she was sure that the only company that was around was a bottle in her hand. The only time before the war she let herself drink with someone around was Rosey, a red haired girl….from the Sapphire strip club - a huge room filled with neon lights and round tables covered in silky dark red cloth each already set up with expensive drinks, ashtrays and a tall candle.

 Rosey was one of a strippers working in a place so exclusive that the most important figures did tend to stroll there when no one else was looking. Letting their families wait for them home, thinking they got caught in work while actually finishing some dirty business with bare asses shaking around them and neon lights blinding out every sharp sense from the brain. Be it politicians, important high figures, policemen, but also Lucy along with her employers from the gang secretly lurking around there. She got assigned to that club as intelligence agent to look out for anything that could be useful in their favor, information, gossip, hell maybe even steal some documents when targets were too busy throwing the money out and getting themselves choked in alcohol. 

The barman and owner were both working for the gangs so they could assign the people in the spots they needed to be. No one knew about the schemes in this place as no one would believe such an exclusive club could be owned by some under law criminals. The reputation was there for years and that’s what was covering them. Lucy was assigned as a stripper’s assistant, helping them getting ready and looking out for them as they performed. That was letting her have access to their rooms in the back and pretty much whole club. And with the outfit, and tons of make up as well as mask no one could recognize her as oppose to her soft innocent look at the office during daytime.

Rosey was also working for the gangs and there were no barriers she wouldn’t cross. Fucking their clients and letting them spill out their dirtiest secrets. Money was top for her too but then again she had no one else to take care of, just herself. Lucy on the other hand was just a big liar, still pretending to have a normal life, moving on to smaller office after what court mobs did to her, making them think she understood and stepped out. But that was also on a plus for her boss as she could easily slip into the court when she wanted, knowing where all the achieves and documents are stored along with keeping some contacts inside as well. At the beginning it was hard to lie, in face of a man who just slipped a ring on her finger one evening, telling her how much he loves her, moving in together but the longer she went with a lie the more it shaped into her reality and became just part of her routine. She knew she was a bitch and a coward to hide like that but after she tasted the money and freedom of her actions she wouldn’t let it go. She was already crooked at this point.

She loved working in the Sapphire. The luxury, the lights, the music, smell of the money and perfume from the strippers dancing on their platforms and stage. She respected them as she got to know Rosey. They weren’t putting up with any shit that was being thrown their way, they knew how to throw a punch and just live the most out of their lives, not scared of anything. In time they got to work together and became quite efficient in their job, putting their charm first while slipping their dirty fingers for anything that could be pulled out of fools pockets or mouths. Lucy polished few skills there, stealing, lying, charming and eventually some dancing too as Rosey performance was always on top.

___

Back at Fizztop, Gage eventually did let himself to be pushed on a couch, a grin slowly stretching on his face as he watched her approaching, swaying her hips to the side in a sound of a tune from radio. But as she sat on his lap, with her legs spread the hard knocking on a door occurred.

-Seriously…what the actual fuck. What is it?! She shouted towards the door angry on being disturbed yet again in a heat of a moment.

- Boss…i don’t want to disturb but we have a problem at the bottling plant. A familiar operator voice responded from behind the door.

-Well…you already did disturbed me so just tell me what the hell is going on? She pulled herself up from raider lap and looked around for her gear gulping down a bottle of water to make herself at least sober enough for eventual fight.

-The Mirelurk Queen…Boss. Just poped out of nowhere, and started attacking our people there. We could use both of you there too. Its all glowing and just refuses to fucking die. Lucy almost choked while drinking a water.

- Fuckin hell, ya told me there was no Queen before, Boss… Gage stretchted his back and started gathering his gear as well.

- Maybe she just hid so well i didn’t notice her. We get there right away! Lucy shouted and let out a deep sigh. - It can’t be...not now.

____

As they arrived the situation indeed seemed a bit too much out of control. The queen was enraged, slashing and pushing everything and anyone in her way. The blue bright acid flying from her burning on the ground and melting every piece of skin of the ones unfortunate to find a cover in time.  

- Well…shit. I thought we cleared this place thoroughly last time we were here, Boss? Gage took a cover with her to not drag the mirelurk attention just yet.

- Because we did. I mean u do not miss something like that eh? She rolled her eyes at him. But in the back of her head she had an idea what actually went wrong there.

She got herself stocked up on grenades' from Lizzie on a way there and started throwing them hiding after each one to not let to be spotted. Gage moved towards the other operators to help them with the firepower from there.

-Porter…last person i would expect to be here right now. Said one of them ironically.

- At least i’m dressed for the battle, not a fucking banquet. Just shut up and lets get rid of this shit. He responded, saving the swears for later and nodding towards the creature.

After a short struggle and a cooperation they managed to put the queen back to the bottom of the lake, dead for sure this time. Gage took a step closer and poked one of her legs with his rifle. The strong quantum glow from her body almost  shed him a tear from an eye. Lucy walked around, pretending to do same thing but was actually looking for something. A small box, device, something that Insititute planted there as she started her career in Nuka World. She spotted it, small chip blinking a red light from under the water. She snatched it when Gage wasn’t looking, stuffing it in her pocket.

- So…did u stare enough at it to make sure its dead? Lucy approached him and looked around at the wounded operators, feeling a twinge of regret.

- Yeah, let’s hope that was last of it. They walked away but as soon as they reached the corner of the building Gage pulled her abruptly by the arm and pushed to the wall.

- Maybe i have just one eye but its enough to see what’s going on. What did u pick up and why the hell i have a bad feeling about it? Gage growled under his nose, squinting his eye at her.

- That…was not suppose to happen, i swear. She responded fast without thinking too much about it. -Shit….

-So u fucking knew about it all that time?! What is going on again Boss? He kept his voice low to not drag attention but firm enough to send a shiver down her spine.

- It was a job from…Institute. The data on mirelurk queen spawn in exchange for some supplies back then. But they said that the device would also keep her asleep, hidden deep in the lake before it grows. I swear that was not suppose to happen. Lucy started explaining waving her hand around. Gage caught it by the wrist and leaned down.

-But it did fucking happen now. Putting your fucking people in danger and i don’t understand for shit why i do not know about it. I accepted these fucking eggheads because it does indeed sounds like a good deal. Keeping their shit under ground and us doing our shit up. But you fucked up and you lied to me Boss.

- I did not…lie. I just..didn’t tell you about it. It was still early and..i wasn’t sure if it was good idea to tell you back then and then..i forgot. She pulled her hand away from his grip.

- I’m not sure what is worse Boss. You lying or you avoiding to fucking enlighten me with all your little plans cooperating with goddamn Institute. I thought we had this behind us.  You know what. Fuck you, i need a fucking drink and a break right now. He pushed her aside and walked away towards Nuka Town.

-Break from what Gage? She shouted at his back moving away from her in the distance.

-You, Boss. It was sharp, right in her gut.

_____

The next day she spent alone. Fizztop was silent without him swearing around, tinkering around the gear and lending her ear for more advices on the next steps. It felt weird. Lucy got used to his presence too much, strolling confused around the town as well as to what to do.

She decided at last to pull her thoughts back on preparations for the galaxy park and visit the Lizzie for the rest of the remaining day and help her with the grenades' and gear but she kept what happened to herself. Pretending was her talent after all, tinkered through years.

As the sun was going down she was hoping to see the familiar face back at Fizztop but to her surprise it was a sharp metallic one instead, leaning against the table at Porter’s room.

-Savoy…what a surprise. What brings you in? She remained calm. Savoy was not the one to fuck with and neither to trust.

- Nisha wanted to be sure you know what your next step is. If u don’t want to make her more angry than she is. That last park is gonna be fucking ours, right, Boss? He pushed himself from the table and approached her right away, looking sharply through the gap of his mask.

-I told her to be fucking patient. Preparations are needed. She will eventually get what she deserv…wants. Lucy responded as sharply looking up at him.

- Fine Boss. He moved past her side but turned away right after. -Just last warning as she ordered. Lucy faced him. A knife fell in his hand hidden in the sleeve and slashed her under the ribs so fast she couldn’t react in time. -Also..its a shame that your tiny little device failed…but it was fun to see those fancy fools run around like a bunch of rad chickens. 

-Fuck! So it was him… She thought and pushed a hand into the cut. Her kneels felt suddenly soft but she didn’t fall until Savoy left the Fizztop chuckling with a low voice under his nose. Disciples knives were no joke, leaving not just a cut but a skin ripped apart in a very brutal manner making sure the pain lasts longer than it should.

- Easy..ye its just an ordinary cut. Nothing that stimpak and some med-x cannot handle. She said to herself looking at the blood dripping to the floor and moving slowly towards the bathroom. She would not allow herself to wait for Gage, he wasn’t here and she had to deal with it. With shaky hand she searched the drawer and finally pulled the stimpak out, shoving it in her skin. After a while she managed to get herself under a control, stopping the bleeding and sitting with her legs stretched on the bathroom dirty tiles. She knew Gage would come back because the work was almost done and the goal was higher than some arguing and fucking around, she just wasn’t sure when.

_____

It was late. Porter still wasn’t back. Lucy was sitting at her dressing table near the working station that was an ordinary furniture before but she managed to make it resemble almost the one the strippers had in her quarters back then. With a round half broken mirror attached, a shiny silver brush lying beneath and all the jewelry and shines hanged and put around. She was sitting in her underwear, shoving a whiskey bottle down her throat and looking in the mirror mumbling to herself. The pain from the wound was still sharp and booze was the only thing that was around right now. She still couldn’t resist it.

- What would i do to hear your take on this…Rosey. She sighted and pulled the hair away from her face. The corner of her eye spotted a syringe popping out of the half open drawer. It was calmex that Maddox made for her before to help her with phobia and overall stress that was kicking her up from time to time. In this world it felt understandable to her to shove one or two in a while. And Maddox indeed had a talent, boosting the mixture even better than regular one. Calming down her need for doses for a longer time.  

- What the hell…what’s the worse that can happen tonight anyway. It was stupid but Lucy was known for being impulsive and acting so. That’s where Gage was stirring here in the right direction most of the time but he wasn’t present now. She hesitated a second but at last pushed the needle in her vain and watched the violet liquid pump in her blood. The feeling of relaxation filled her immediately but mixed with high amount of booze her mind drifted deeply away. She leaned on the chair, her head falling slightly backwards.

The flashes of the Sapphire coming back in her mind. Rosey calming her down in her room and handing her a pistol. - If u want to last in this business u need to know how to count girl. But on yourself, fuck. Don’t depend on the words or care of others, even Harrison’s. Now go.

The memories banging her head, first betrayal on the new grounds, second in her life. Learning the survival and fucked up rules of the city jungle and its roots. The blood started dripping from her nose and she could feel the strength keeping her on a chair slowly evaporating. She spotted the shadows growing behind her in the mirror, forming into the well known figure. 

- Fuck. Before she could move or turn its hands grabbed her by the throat. 

- Ohh, poor Feit. Going all sobby and soft on yourself? I won’t allow that, i made you for something more than that but apparently you forgot. Let me remind you, kid. 

She dropped heavily to the floor, hitting her head. Not sure if she was so high, throwing herself down like that or Harrison’s shadow was becoming more and more real to her. 

- Why are you still there, you ain’t even real! She shouted at him and reached for a pistol at the edge of the table.

- Oh, you don’t want to do it, Feit. After all that care i gave you, all the training and opportunity to be one of my best. He just stood, the smoky clouds raising around him and colorful check patterns blurring around his face in a disturbing manner.

- I don’t want to...but i had to, you left me no choice. She pointed the gun at his face, her hand shaking, leaning against the table, trying to hold herself up. 

- Feit...turn around. You can’t just get rid of me, i’m stuck with you the moment you entered the cryo. Just look at yourself. He pointed at the mirror behind her.

She turned around slowly, gasping and throwing the pistol away, as it was actually pointing at her head in the reflection. As she turned back she saw only Harrison’s shadows coming back at her, almost slamming inside her body before dropping to the floor.      

As the vision got more blurred and her eyes were slowly closing the last thing she could hear were the heavy familiar steps approaching the door, saving her again and the smoke around her vanishing away. The last feeling she remembers were the big strong palms under her back carrying her and putting down on a soft fabric. She knew she fucked up and didn’t deserve it at that moment but after all maybe she learned something.

[concussed-to-pieces]

It’s Going To Take A Lot; Bonus

Fandom: WWE

Pairing: Diesel [Kevin Nash]/OFC

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Enjoy and merry Christmas, ya' filthy animals! A little bonus content in the spirit of the season. Tagging @toxiicpop, @oraclegazes and @hardcorewwetrash as ever!

Part One

Epilogue

December 24th, 1990

He stood on the front steps, his hands tucked tightly into his pockets. He could hear the faint sound of a piano being played, as well as some singing and laughter. A botched Christmas carol maybe, but no one seemed to mind that it had been botched. He swallowed hard, nervously taking off his hat and smoothing out his hair for what felt like the hundredth time since he’d arrived.

He rested his forehead against the front door for a minute, trying to muster up the courage to ring the doorbell. Finally, squaring his shoulders and gritting his teeth, he talked himself into pressing it.

The piano music ended abruptly and he heard the sound of footsteps approaching the door. He kept his shoulders squared, kept his jaw tight. Wish my knees would stop shaking. Does my hair still look okay? Hat might have--

She opened the door and it was like everything else faded out. All he heard was the saxophone solo from that George Michael song. The way she was lit from the back made her blonde hair look like a halo, and really? A halo? He scolded himself. But then again, that was par for the course around her. “Kevin!” He somehow heard her voice over his mental saxophone. She sounded thrilled. “You made it!”

“I promised, didn’t I?” He asked gruffly. “Thanks a million for this.” He tapped at the scarf around his neck, offering her a lazy smile. “Thing was a lifesaver on the last drive.” Kimberly flushed bright red and Diesel couldn’t help cupping her chin and bringing her in for a kiss. “Missed you.” He breathed when they parted.

“I missed you, too.” She nuzzled her nose against his jacket, her hands tucked into the back pockets of his jeans. “I’m so glad you came, Kevin.”

Diesel buried his face in her hair. “Glad I got here in time.”

“You’re good at that.”

“I’m assuming you’re Kevin?” Diesel jumped at the new voice, pulling away from his…well, his Kimberly. A short, rounder woman with curly blonde hair was regarding him with the utmost suspicion from behind Kimberly.

“Yes, uh. Yes, that’s me. You must be Kimberly’s sister.” Diesel extended his hand, more than a little gratified by the fact that Kimberly hadn’t really released him. He was confused when the woman in front of him tittered to herself.

“You didn’t tell me he was a charmer! I’m Kim-Kim’s mom, Kevin. Call me Anne.”

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, ma’am.” Diesel managed to say, feeling like an idiot. She told you that her siblings were younger than her, stupid!

“Likewise! I’ve heard great things.” Anne smiled like Kimberly, Diesel noticed absently, or more accurately Kimberly smiled like Anne.

“All probably false, but I appreciate you softening the blow.” Diesel teased Kimberly.

“Oh my God Kim-ber-ly, you didn’t tell us he was a Clydesdale.” The owner of the new voice had just emerged from the kitchen, and yeah, that would be the younger sister. Complete with off-the-shoulder sweater and makeup applied in experimental fervor.

“Amy, don’t be rude!” Anne scolded while Diesel tried his hardest to muffle his laughter with his arm. A Clydesdale. That was a new one on him, he’d have to tell Razor.

“No harm done, ma’am, I’m used to hearing much worse.” He cocked an eyebrow in the direction of Amy, taking in how her eyes were narrowed at him. “I get it.” He said simply, and her shoulders relaxed a fraction. “Whatever questions you have, I’ll try my best to answer them.”

“Oh honey, please stop glaring. Your face will get stuck like that.” Anne chided Amy like she hadn’t been giving Diesel the same look not five minutes prior.

A lanky, brown-haired man with thick glasses came wandering in from what Diesel assumed was the living room, carrying a cup full of pretzels. He started visibly at the sight of the…Clydesdale in the entryway, nearly dropping his pretzels. “Oh! Hello, hello! You must be Kevin.” He fumbled the cup for a second until Kimberly finally rescued him, scooping the plastic out of his hand so he could properly greet Diesel with a firm handshake. “I’m Daniel, the Dadinator around these parts.”

“It’s great to meet you, sir.” Diesel didn’t mean to sound so stiff, he was pretty sure that Anne was the one who kept the gate in this household. He just wanted to make a decent first impression (for once in my life, please).

Daniel immediately waved off the formality, smiling down at his daughter still cozied into Diesel’s side. “Our little Kimbles seems to have taken quite the shine to you, Kevin! Her and Anne have been hard at work most of today making the traditional Christmas fare. You just missed the before-dinner carols!”

“I’m pretty sure my singing could destroy the most ravenous of appetites.” Diesel chuckled, shaking his head. “Where should I hang my coat?”

“Ah yes, the infamous coat!” Daniel winked at his oldest daughter, who rolled her eyes at him. Diesel, on the other hand, felt his face heat. His jacket would be a topic of conversation now or later, he was sure of it. “There’s hooks by the door, Kevin. Hats off indoors, Anne is very firm on that.”

“Oh, of course.” Diesel quickly yanked his trucker cap off.

“Wait!” A young boy with a mop of brown curls came skidding out of the living room, his socks squeaking on the hardwood floor. There was a tense moment where Diesel waited for the crisis to strike, but then the boy managed to catch himself before he fell. “Wait, I want to see the truck! Hat back on! Coat back on!” He demanded, making Diesel snort in disbelief.

“Jeff! Manners!” Daniel scolded, giving Diesel an apologetic look. “Sorry, he's kind of a mile a minute kid.”

“He's excited. I get it.” Diesel put his hat back on while Jeff hopped anxiously from foot to foot. “Ask your parents first, okay?” The little boy grinned excitedly, already mid-turn to beg his father to let him go see the huge rig parked out front.

…

After dinner and the cleanup, Jeff (sporting a crisp new Wolf Packing ballcap) headed up to bed without being asked. He was of the impression that the sooner he went to bed, the sooner Santa would come and the sooner he could open presents.

Daniel passed out glasses of egg nog, dosed with healthy splashes of cognac and rum. Except for Amy's, to the obvious disappointment of the self-proclaimed almost seventeen-year-old. While Anne was distracted at the counter Diesel watched Kimberly let her little sister have a sip, barely keeping himself from laughing aloud when Amy made a disgusted face.

“Alright Kevin, we want the whole sordid tale from you.” Anne said as her cherry winks made their rounds.

Diesel almost choked on his cookie. “'Scuse me?”

“They want you to tell the, uh...” Kimberly trailed off, going an attractive shade of pink.

“The epic story! Give us the rescue from your point of view.” Daniel urged, his glasses a little crooked. “It's not every day we have a real live knight at the table, after all!”

Oh God, they want a retell. Diesel took a healthy swig of the egg nog to fortify his resolve. Telling stories with Razor in a filthy bar somewhere was one thing. This was something entirely different.

“So uh, once upon a time, I stopped at a little dive that’s out of business now.” Diesel glanced at Kimberly. “Saw this lovely lady standing outside and I didn’t think much of it, figured she was having a smoke. I head inside to chat up the clerk, get all the gossip.” Diesel cleared his throat. “I’d taken another woman from this particular stop previously. But that had been a while back, folks change. I didn’t think I’d hear a sales pitch again.”

“Sales pitch?” Anne’s voice trembled a little.

“I broke his nose. Should have broke his whole face.” Diesel muttered, feeling Kimberly’s fingers lace through his own. “I saw her move like she was going to head to the trucks that had just come in, I didn’t want to make a scene. Wrapped my arm around her, probably scared the daylights out of her because I’m…well, I’m a big guy and I know it must have looked bad. I’d just broken a guy’s nose!”

“We’ve dealt with him in court. He deserved whatever you did to him and more.” Daniel grumbled, taking another sip of his egg nog.

“So what then?” Amy asked, her eyes huge. Diesel had to bite back a smile.

“Brought her to another stop to shower and eat, took a nap, drove to the last stop and got into a fistfight.” Diesel shrugged. “Guy was claiming ownership. Sometimes the uh, young guys get possessive. Kimberly is nobody’s property. So I straightened him out.” He licked the corner of his mouth absently, where his lip had been split during the fight. “We had a nutritious breakfast of…hell, I think it was Spam?”

“Spam, chips and Coke.” Kimberly supplied helpfully.

“Yeah. Not breakfast food. Took another sleep, drove through the night and arrived safe and sound on your doorstep.” Diesel knew he was paraphrasing a bit, but he wasn’t exactly about to tell her parents that he’d spent a good chunk of the ‘sleep’ time with his mouth buried between the legs of their eldest daughter. Hell, he and Kimberly hadn’t even been dating, he just knew that she needed it to be safe going forward. Oh, I was all noble intentions, he thought wryly.

“Why didn’t you come in?” Anne asked, “At least let us thank you!”

“You have to understand my side of this, ma’am.” He felt so dumb saying it now. “I…I didn’t want her feeling like she owed me. Didn’t want to be like the folks she’d interacted with before. I left before I could think better of leaving.” He straightened his shoulders. “And then I was a wreck for the better part of a year.”

He heard Amy sigh dreamily and he wanted to laugh because of course, lovesick brooding would be something to catch the teenager’s attention. It definitely sounded much more glamorous than, ‘I attempted to start my promising career as an alcoholic’.

“But you guys know how that story goes.” Diesel said quietly, his fingers twined with Kimberly’s under the table. “This one braved a cold winter’s night, gave me some grand speech about making her own choices.” He teased, boldly nuzzling her cheek with his nose. “I’ll be forever grateful.”

“It was worth it to find you again.” Kimberly murmured, smiling up at him and oh Jesus, her parents were right there, a minor was in the room--

Diesel had to tear his eyes away from her before he did something wildly inappropriate, clearing his throat again to buy himself some time. Because now came the part that he had been dreading all night. “Daniel, Anne…I understand if you two would rather that I just hop into my rig and never come back. A lot of terrible things happened that never needed to all because of guys like me, so I honestly underst-” Anne rose to her full height, which was…not very tall, but the look on her face gave Diesel pause.

“You’re part of this family. You would be whether you got together with Kimberly or not.” Anne’s voice was soft steel. Diesel could see where Kimberly got her resolve. “You brought our daughter back safely. The police had essentially given up. All they had to go on was some CCTV footage from the last gas station she had been in, and obviously that was many, many miles from that…terrible place.” Her lower lip quivered. “We didn’t want to lose hope, but when you have police officers telling you that your case is a lost cause, that ‘young women disappear all the time due to trafficking’, it…it can be hard to stay positive.”

Daniel’s hand rested on the small of his wife’s back. “Waking up on Christmas morning with Kimbles on the doorstep was…I don’t think I’ll ever forget that.”

“Yeah, and she was wearing your jacket!” Amy recalled brightly. “A token, like old knights.”

Diesel blinked, a little overwhelmed. Regardless of what good he’d done, he had been bracing himself for when they would tell him to fuck right off. He was a trucker. He hated to think of it like that, with the unwarranted poison suburbanites tended towards, but he was of the same profession as most of her abusers.

Anne maneuvered around the table and pulled him into a hug that was the most maternal thing he’d ever experienced. “You’re not like them, Kevin. You listened to our baby, kept her safe and brought her home.” She patted his hair and yeah, yep, there was the lump in his throat. He was a grown man. “We’re so thankful you looked out for her.”

“She’s a human being.” Diesel said thickly. “I did what anyone else with a shred of decency would have done.”

“Mom, I think you’re smushing him.” Kimberly, obviously sensing his distress, swooped in to save the day. Anne immediately apologized, settling back down beside Daniel and dabbing at her eyes with a paper napkin.

Diesel huffed out a breath, giving Kimberly’s hand a grateful squeeze. “I’d like to formally ask permission to date your daughter.” He began cautiously. Across the table, Amy looked like she was about to dissolve into another sigh at the trepidation in his voice. “I would be gone for a week or so at a time. Maybe longer hauls if the pay is good. I-I have my own apartment, I promise I’m not trying to skim off of you for a place to crash between trips. I also know Kimberly still has college to get done and I’m not trying to get in the way of that.” Diesel felt out of breath, terrified. “I…care about Kimberly a hell of a lot and I-”

“Honey please, you’re going to pass out if you don’t take a second.” Anne looked far too amused. “How long have you been rehearsing this pitch?”

“Most of the ride here.” Diesel admitted, staring down at his forgotten glass of egg nog. “Over and over until it was right, ma’am.”

“Kimbles is a big girl, Kev. She can make her own choices.” Daniel said gently.

“I didn’t want either of you thinking that I was going behind your backs. Figured asking permission formally was the way to go.” Hope flared bright in Diesel’s chest. “I uh…Kimberly?” He floundered for a second, trying to wrap his head around the fact that this good thing wasn’t being ripped out from beneath him.

“Yes, Kevin?” Kimberly rested her head on his shoulder, giving him a smug look. And here he was, Big Daddy Cool, Diesel Power, Kevin Goddamn Nash reduced to opening and closing his mouth while all his carefully-planned words evacuated his brain.

“I…” Diesel swallowed hard. Got to his feet, pulled her up with him. Cupped her face so it was just them, no audience. “I care about you more than I’ve ever cared about anyone in my life. I want to give this a serious try, Kimberly.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “You interested in giving me a go? It’s not going to be easy, we both know that. It’s going to take a lot. Communication and patience and…shit, say something, please interrupt me, I’m dying of nerves here.” He begged.

Kimberly raised an eyebrow, looking bemused. “I didn’t really think that you had to ask.” She laughed, rubbing her forehead against his own. “Anybody who tries to drag me away from you is going to have a rough time. Two or a hundred men, hell, more than a hundred, it doesn’t matter. Okay?”

“Okay.” Diesel knew he was smiling like an idiot, but he hardly cared at the moment.

“Kiss already!” Amy snapped, folding her arms across her chest and pouting when her mother scolded her. Diesel chuckled, his heart still hammering wildly against his ribs.

“I’d hate to disappoint.” Kimberly gave him a look of feigned shyness from beneath her lashes and oh, that was a good look if Diesel’s body had anything to say about it.

He exhaled hard, trying to ground himself. “’Course.” He gave her a quick peck on the mouth, losing his fight with laughter at her incredulous expression. “Only teasing, sweetheart, only teasing.” Diesel finally relented when she wouldn’t stop giving him that look. She caught the front of his sweatshirt and dragged him down for a real kiss, one that they probably shouldn’t be having in front of her parents and younger sister. Diesel’s common sense had taken a back seat to his relief however, and he kissed back just as fiercely.

“So rad.” Amy murmured enviously. “Just like the books.”

“What books?” Daniel sputtered and Kimberly started giggling into Diesel’s mouth, effectively ending their kiss. “If I find out you’ve been reading those trashy novels again-”

“They’re romantic!” Amy protested.

“Romantic trash.” Daniel huffed.

“Hey, it’s better that she knows what she wants, right?” Kimberly reasoned, unable to keep from laughing at the expression on her father’s face.

Anne nudged her husband pointedly, a little giggly herself. “Daniel, let the girl have fun. At least she’s reading, right?”

…

“May I walk you to your car?” Kimberly teased while Diesel stood awkwardly on the front steps.

“Didn’t want to ask.” He mumbled, jumping a little when she kissed him on the cheek.

“Thanks for letting Jeff poke around in the cab. I know it meant a lot to him.” She said, looping her arm through the crook of his elbow and laying her head against his shoulder. She couldn’t understand why he had been so nervous inside, but whatever the reason it had been more than worth it to watch him light up after she kissed him.

“I kinda’…promised to take him for a spin tomorrow. As long as the weather holds.” Diesel winced when she looked up at him. “He’s a good kid.”

“One of the best I know.” Kimberly smiled. “How are you doing? I’m sure tonight was…well, a lot. Just making sure you’re okay.”

Diesel paused midway through opening the door of the cab. “It was a lot, but I’ve got a lot to get used to.” He offered her that lazy smile. “Your folks didn’t need to be that nice to me. I can handle some punishment, sweetheart.”

“Would you believe that’s what they’re like normally?” Kimberly asked dryly. “It’s pretty rad.”

“Damn.” Diesel seemed at a loss, so Kimberly slipped past him to climb up into the cab.

“C’mon, the sooner we go to sleep the sooner we can open presents!” She urged.

Diesel shuddered all over, his eyes narrowing. “I dunno’ about that. Pretty sure I’ve got something to unwrap before bedtime.” He replied playfully, following her up into the cab and pulling the curtains across the windshield after he shut the door behind him. “Shit, I should have started it before we came out. My bad, Kimberly.”

“Looks like we’ll have to cuddle for warmth.” Kimberly laughed when he groaned loudly. “Naked, skin to skin so that the heat can distribute properly. You know.”

“It sounds more like you’ve been reading your little sister’s trashy books.” Diesel pointed out.

“Who did you think got her into them?” Kimberly asked airily, unzipping her coat. Diesel shook his head, silently watching her every move with a heat that raced down Kimberly’s spine. Kimberly shed her jacket and immediately regretted it, the truck was not warm in the slightest. She crossed her arms over her chest, shivering a little.

Diesel surged against her, pinning her to the passenger seat with his hands on her shoulders and his mouth on her own. “I’ll warm you up. This…oh my God, Kimberly, fuck.” He growled out the swear, shaking fingers groping her through her turtleneck.

Kimberly couldn’t help her needy whimper, draping her arms around his neck and pulling him in for another kiss. “Missed you, missed you so much.”

“You just saw me the other-“ He paused at her look. “Okay yeah, who am I fooling here? I didn’t see you for almost a year and it was awful. I’m not letting you go again.” Diesel promised, yanking off his hat and tossing it over his shoulder somewhere. “Pants off, I need…c’mon, lift your hips.”

Kimberly eagerly obliged, laughing when he fumbled with the button on her jeans. “Through the loop, you know how to do this.”

“Don’t you sass me, sweetheart.” Diesel grunted, “Nothing funny about these nerves. Holy shit. We’re dating.” He shook his head, sliding her pants down her legs and jumping a little when she yelped. “What, too much?”

“Seat is…very cold.” Kimberly squeaked.

“I know.” Diesel teased his thumb over one of her nipples through her turtleneck and she arched up into his touch helplessly. He knelt between her legs and the cold faded to a back corner of Kimberly’s mind, her attention absorbed by this huge man who should have been terrifying. “Still alright?” Diesel asked, resting his temple on her thigh while he looked up at her. She nodded and his eyes softened. “Good.”

“Good.” Kimberly echoed, feeling ludicrous for being nervous. She cupped his jaw and Diesel closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. “Be gentle.”

“Absolutely.” Diesel slipped her panties off and nudged her thighs apart again, then moved her hand to the back of his head. “You know what to do, sweetheart.” He murmured, mouthing the words on her thigh. “You’re in charge here.”

He pressed a kiss to her stomach and Kimberly ran her fingers through his hair, forgetting about her nerves as Diesel watched her slick collect for a second or two.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful.” He muttered finally, sounding dazed. He spread her open with his fingers, the look of greed on his face making Kimberly’s hips twitch up. “Shouldn’t make you wait. Shouldn’t do it.” Diesel continued, walking his fingers up her torso to tweak her nipple through her shirt again.

“Oh! Please, Kevin!” Kimberly begged, making him rumble in his chest. “Please, please please I was so good, please-”

“That kiss in front of your parents is what you define as good?” Diesel asked incredulously. “I could have ripped my Levis with my cock, you tease.”

“P-Please, please I’ve been wet all night, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, need you so much--” Kimberly kept begging, desperate at this point. And he could tell, of course he could tell, her panties had been soaked through!

She felt his jaw tense when she tugged on his hair, and he rewarded her finally with a stroke of his tongue on her clit. “You are so fucking wet, oh my God.” Diesel moaned out, the noise low and ragged. “Sweetheart, Kimberly, oh my God, you’re so beautiful.” His facial hair tickled her thigh, rubbing a little harder when he resumed his previous activity. “I’m gonna’ take good care of you.”

Kimberly sighed, rolling her hips against his mouth. “Yes.” Their time together the other night hadn’t been nearly enough to make up for their long period of separation. She reached out to him and he responded with gentle noises of reassurance kissed into the skin of her thighs, yes I’m here, yes I’m real.

The Kevin who haunted her dreams, slipped into her bedroom and brought her to the brink of completion didn’t hold a candle to the Diesel of reality. His teeth, his tongue, his fingers, all working in unison to coax an orgasm from her quivering form. She was hot all over her body, aching sweetly with the work of wanting him.

“Give it to me, sweetheart.” Diesel growled. “I want it and you will give it to me, come on my face, come on my fucking face-”

Kimberly cried out, her fingers digging into his scalp as the tension in her stomach broke. Diesel hungrily lapped up her slick, his eyes locked with hers while she came. “Kevin--” She panted when she could speak again. “Bunk?”

“Yeah?” Diesel asked, sliding his index finger across his chin and making a lazy show out of licking it clean. Oh, that was nice. Kimberly felt her face flush. “I was having a pretty good time here, but I suppose…” He got to his feet, and then pulled her upright. “How’s your legs?”

“How do you think?!” Kimberly sputtered, clinging tightly to his shirt so she didn’t collapse. Stupid, stupid legs!

Diesel grinned, obviously pleased with himself. “So once we move to the bunk…” He drawled, tugging the partition aside. “How do you want round two to go?”

“I’m riding you.” Kimberly said quickly, before she could lose her nerve.

Diesel made a sound like he’d been punched in the stomach, kissing her hard. “Shit Kimberly, I could get used to this.” He groaned when he pulled back, running a hand through his hair.

Kimberly sat down on the bunk and crossed her legs, giggling at his expression when she made a ‘come-hither’ gesture with her finger. “Too much?”

“Never.” He stripped his shirt off and climbed over her until she laid down, massive body on full and obvious display. “Undo my jeans? Please.” He asked, shivering like he couldn't help it when she dragged her fingers over the dark trail of hair on his stomach. “God, God, Kimberly.”

Kimberly boldly slid her fingers down into his boxers, loving the heft of his cock in her hand. Diesel's head lolled forward when she stroked him, his hips rocking down into her hand. She rubbed her thumb over the head of his cock and Diesel swore, his hands clenching restlessly into the blankets.

“God don’t tease, with your tits all snug in that shirt, fuck don’t tease me.” He snarled. Kimberly undid his jeans and pushed them down his hips, making him grit out another swear.

“You like my breasts in this shirt?” Kimberly asked, loving the sensation of having him at her mercy. “Nice tight little turtleneck. Bra is uncomfortable though.”

“Get rid of it.” Diesel said curtly. “Hop up onto me and I’ll unhook it for you.” He patted his hip in the least subtle manner possible, offering her that lazy grin. “I live to serve.”

“You're impossible.” Kimberly stuck her tongue out and Diesel rolled onto his back, shifting his weight until she could straddle him properly. He was still snickering to himself and so Kimberly sank down onto his cock without any warning. That got his attention and shut him up all in one fell swoop. “Well?” She sighed after a minute of just enjoying the feeling of his cock in her. “My bra?”

Diesel's fingers raked firmly over the skin of her back, making her arch against him. “Fuck, yes.” Diesel grunted, fumbling to undo the hooks on her bra. “That's right, fuck down onto me, ride me into a fucking lather sweetheart.”

Kimberly caught a handful of his hair and tugged his head up a little so he could watch the way his cock stretched her deliciously. “See what you do to me, Diesel?” She crooned, not really sure where this behavior was coming from but more than satisfied with the results.

Diesel's eyes widened and the large man's jaw tensed yet again. “God, Kimberly...do you have any fucking idea-” He shook his head and grasped her hips. “All those nights I spent alone, drinking or fucking my fist while thinking about having my mouth and hands all over you, thinking about burying myself in this sweet little pussy--fuck, having you here, and you're real and we're...I mean, you're the best gift I've ever been given.” He admitted fiercely, getting her to squirm as he pinned her to his hips and bucked up.

“You're the best thing that's ever happened to me.” Kimberly shifted her pelvis in his grip, arching just so against the deep thrusts of his hips. “You saved me, Kevin.” She slid her hands up to her breasts, teasing herself through her shirt.

Diesel rumbled in his chest, cupping the back of her neck and tugging her down to touch their foreheads together. The intense look in his eyes took her breath away. “You saved me, don't get it twisted sweetheart.” He gritted out, carding his other hand through her hair. “Beautiful, precious fucking...beautiful woman. Best thing in my life. Don't know what I did, but I'll be damned if I ever let you go again.”

“Kevin I'm so close-” Kimberly begged. “Come with me, please please-” Her eyes kept rolling back but Diesel urged her to maintain eye contact, keeping their foreheads together. Her blonde hair curled around his face, muting the outside world to nothing but his eyes, his mouth, that lazy smile firmly in place as she rode him hard.

“Come for me, sweetheart.” He murmured tenderly, cupping her jaw and kissing her. “You come first, Kimberly, come for Diesel like a good girl.”

Something about that phrase struck a chord in the young woman and she tensed down on his cock. Her hands clutched vaguely at his shoulders as everything faded out and she broke apart with a hungry cry muffled by his mouth. Diesel moaned along with her as he pumped his cock in and out one last time before he came as well, and he wound his arms around her tightly.

“Stay with me.” He breathed in her ear.

“L-Like I can even move--” Kimberly gasped.

“Not just now.” Diesel's voice was so quiet. “Once you're done with...y'know, the important stuff, college. Stuff. If you're still interested in me. Please...stay with me.”

“Kevin...” Kimberly barely managed to sit up, her stomach still quivering. “Nothing could separate us after all of this, as far as I'm concerned.” She panted, trying to get her hair back under control.

“You really mean that?” Diesel asked tentatively, his fingers stroking through her hair and soothing her back down against his chest.

“Absolutely.” Kimberly answered firmly, pressing a trail of exhausted kisses over his pectoral. Diesel fell silent, reaching a hand out to hit play on his boombox and then pulling the blanket up over the both of them. Kimberly nuzzled into his chest, thoroughly warm and more than a little tired out.

“If I had another chance tonight...” The tape carried on softly, and Kimberly snickered into Diesel's chest.

“What?” Diesel mumbled.

“This song, you lovesick nerd.” She yawned widely. “Figured you would have gone with the other tape, the Just Tell Me You Love Me tape.”

“Wasn't feeling the England Dan last night.” Diesel held her a little tighter. “Thank you.”

“I'm pretty sure that's still supposed to be my line. Until I throw down with some big scary guy in a Mack truck on your behalf, of course.”

“Seriously, Kimberly.” Diesel cupped her chin again so he could see her eyes. “Thank you. You're the best present a guy could ask for.” Kimberly flushed at the praise and he smiled slowly, nudging her nose with his own. “C'mon, the sooner you go to sleep, sooner you get to open your presents.”

“Mm, pretty sure Christmas came early-”

“I held off as long as I could!”

“That's not actually what...oh my God, Kevin, you're ridiculous.”

[coffee-and-kpop]

我想要把你灌满我的喉

    Wo xiang yao ba ni guan man wo de hou

         I want to fill my throat with you

El Paso 11:13 -> 11:14

“Where are you going so early?” I turned back around, a sleepy voice tugging my attention back towards the space I’d just left.

“It’s literally almost noon. My dad might actually kill me this time for being so late to work,” I replied, but I didn’t move any closer to throwing on the clothes that were lying on the floor.

“So it’s, like, really early and you should come back to bed,” Kris said, stretching his arm out across my empty spot.

“I’m dead-ass serious, Kris. I have to go to work,” I snapped, this time really pulling on the sports bra and underwear from where they were in my pile. However, instead of pulling on the rest of my clothes, I efficiently peed, brushed my hair and teeth, and put on a layer of mascara in the motel mirror in my underwear, all while the feeling of Kris’s eyes flashed across my back. I made it a point not to look at him.

"What’s the worst your dad is going to do? Fire you?” I heard his singsong voice, which always managed to grate on my nerves whenever he used it.

“As a matter of fact, yes. He will fire me. He’s the CEO of one of the largest oil companies in the west. How do you think it looks when he continues to let his daughter, who’s supposed to manage the books and deliveries, be late every day because she’s sleeping with a guy he definitely doesn’t approve of,” I snapped, pulling on the final articles of clothing and turning to face Kris. This lecture was one I’d heard numerous times: one I could quote word for word, and I was on my last straw.

“No one knows we’re sleeping together, Y/N.”

“They all know we’re sleeping, Kris.” He just briefly rolled his eyes at my reply before covering them with the back of his arm. The cheap sheets he was laying between slipped further down his stomach, showing off more of the thin line of hair that led downwards from his naval. I swallowed shallowly, choosing instead to focus on the foot that was peeking out of the sheets and hanging off the end of the bed, his toes curled against the air. You’re too tall, Kris, I wanted to say to him, and laugh. But I was mad at him right now. I was mad at him and this whole situation and I had to walk out of there was angrily as I could.

And that’s what I did. With Kris’s arm still covering his eyes, I grabbed the rest of my things and slammed the door of room 101 as loudly as possible. I could hear Kris shout my name behind it, but I kept my gaze piercing into my car until I was safely inside and cranking the engine. I could see the blinds pull down beneath a finger to allow a small gap of room 101 to peer outside, but the gap disappeared as soon as my tires rolled against the hot, inky asphalt.

You don’t even like tall boys, Y/N. I told myself that as soon as I met Kris, when he’d walked into my office looking for my dad, trying to sell some product or another, one of the numerous odds and ends jobs he’d picked up while in El Paso. I said that statement to myself the first night he’d ask me to stop by a party with him, the first night my father hired him as a sales assistant to travel around the country selling our oil. And I’d told myself the same thing ever since. Yet, somehow Kris, in all his six foot two glory and death glares, none of which I was attracted to in the least, managed to slip through the cracks and take me back to the motel he was living in, night after night.

Maybe it was the fact that he was actually really ugly, really ruggedly ugly. Yet something about how ugly he was made him attractive. The way his face was always pulled together too harshly, as though he was naturally glaring at you. His height alone was terrifying. In fact, he looked more like an arm piece for my younger sister, or cousin. But instead, I was stuck with him, and for some reason, I didn’t unstick myself.

It was probably the whole flight/on the run thing. Maybe what attracted me most about Kris was that he was always leaving. Eventually, he’d come back. I knew that he would. And yet, I always liked him the most when he was leaving. Whether it was when he was going off on a business trip for the company, or when he was laying low for a couple weeks because those white vans that rolled through town a couple mornings ago looked way too suspicious to be regular white vans. No matter what the reason, Kris was constantly leaving, and I was constantly staying.

In all actuality, there was only one thing I hated more than showing up late for work, and that was the monthly employee parties. So by the time my shift ended, I was forced to rush home and then rush back primped and ready to woo all the employees and confirm their suspicions, once again, that I was indeed sleeping with the sales boy. No matter how inconspicuous we were, they figured it out somehow, and I was always the topic of whispered discussions for the next few weeks that followed.

“Y/N, you look absolute beautiful tonight, sweetheart. How are things on your side of the office?” I glanced up, groaning internally as Maryann, one of the front desk secretaries made her way over, parking herself in front of me like an eighteen-wheeler.

“They’re good,” I replied coolly, trying to keep the conversation as absolutely short as possible. Over Maryann’s shoulder, I could see Kris emerging from the entrance, clad in his regular employee function suit and tie, his short hair slicked back and freshly shaved on the sides. The minute he caught my eye, I glanced back down at Maryann and pretended to be enthralled with whatever it was that she was telling me about ‘her side of the office.’

“Can you believe a customer would do that? I mean, don’t they understand that we, as employees, have to take regular breaks to keep our work ethic up? It’s just unbelievable, some people,” Maryann was blabbering, who usually employee function horror story running through one of my ears and out the other. I kept a sharp peripheral on Kris, who was lazy sipping from a glass in his hand and chatting smoothly with some of the truck drivers, who were very distinguishable by their goodwill coat jackets and stuffed dress shoes.

“Oh yeah, that’s terrible,” I replied coldly, Maryann still chatting away. I knew Maryann’s stories by heart, of which usually portrayed her as the victim. I knew this to be completely false, since she had little work ethic and hardly should up on time when she did have one.

And then Kris was moving, right towards us. I tried not to look, not watch him as he smoothly made his way over, smiling a tight charming grimace at Maryann. “Ladies, I hope you don’t mind if I interrupt to tell you how stunning you look tonight.”

I could have gagged, both from Maryann’s Walmart brand perfume and Kris’s nonchalant flirting. He was so calm when I was about to erupt, and it enraged me even more. I rolled my eyes charmingly, giving Maryann a fake, knowing smile.

“Oh, Kris, always the charmer. Did I tell you he brought us lunch the other day, Y/N? He is just the sweetest.”

“Yeah, just the sweetest,” I tried to open my teeth more when I replied, but they mainly stayed clenched around my words. Kris noticed, and I saw his expression become more amused as Maryann continued to gush over him: her hero.

“You know who was just looking for you, Maryann? Lexi. She was telling Flannery how much she wanted to talk to you and catch up. I think they’re over in the next room,” Kris said, like it was the most natural thing in the world to pass Maryann off to my sisters.

“You really do look great,” Kris said as we watched Maryann bumping along in the hopes of spreading more gossip. I narrowed my eyes at her back, not looking up.

“My mom told me the same thing,” I said, picturing her in my mind. She was around my dad’s arm, her thick blonde hair full and perfect as she smiled and talked about the company she could have run herself.

“You looked even more beautiful this morning,” he said, perfectly natural, as if me climbing out of his bed naked was supposed to be mentioned at a monthly employee function.

I darted my eyes back to him sharply, finally meeting his gaze. His dark pupils sparkled under the fluorescent lights. “You’re disgusting.”

“Do you want to get out of here?” he asked casually, taking another sip of his drink before returning it to that perfect height at his chest that made him look both relaxed and tense.

I hesitated, not wanting to answer him. He knew my answer was automatically yes; I wanted nothing more than to get out of this stuffy atmosphere and the tight dress I was wearing. But I didn’t want to do it with him.

I avoided his eyes, instead glancing around the room at the different groups of employees that littered the space. There were the janitors off to the corner, invited for their sweet smiles and hard word; easily my favorite group of employees that worked for my dad’s company. A few more of my siblings, blonde and dark, where standing at the punch bowl, chattering and laughing with the various secretaries that wore skirts too short to be considered professional during the week. I knew the core of my family were just in the next room, and occasionally I’d catch glimpses of my dad in his wire glasses and collared shirt, laughing and always refusing to wear a suit. I was surprised he wasn’t wearing sweat pants. There were the truck drivers, most who didn’t finish high school but still worked so support families, and my cousin who was picking at a plate of appetizers that her date was holding, a bright green tie the color of a broccoli steam standing out against the dull room. They’d been together since high school, lost their virginity to each other, and just scored internships at the company to look good for the various med schools they were applying to in the fall.

And then, when my circle was complete, I found myself coming back to Kris. I didn’t have to say anything, I didn’t even have to nod, but I did and in reply he turned and strode towards the door. I followed a few seconds after, although I knew it would be obvious we’d just left semi-together, and Maryann would be telling everyone about it for the next week, again.

But the promise of fresh air, and the unzipping in the back of this dress, was so much more tantalizing. I followed Kris, up and up the skyscraper that H&L Oil was located in, until the roof sign was clearly visible on the doors. I was huffing by the time I saw the stars, but I kept going towards him.

During the day, the desert air of El Paso hit you like a brick wall. It was dry, suffocating, and ungodly hot. But for some unknown reason, the nights were cool and beautiful, and I always loved finding myself in this position, drinking in the inky sky and milky stars.

“Remind me again. You’re not the one scared of heights, are you?” Kris’s eyes were invisible under his brown line in the dark light, but I could clearly see the military tombstones of his teeth.

“Negative, that would be my sister,” I snapped, knowing he knew the answer to this question, but he had to be annoying anyway.

He pulled me close to him without warning, crushing my cheek against his chest. I sighed into him, letting myself lose it for just a second, breathing him in deeply.

“I’m going to miss you so much,” he whispered, his voice rumbling against my cheek.

“You’re leaving again?” I knew I shouldn’t be feeling the little pang in my stomach, especially since he’d gone and come back so many different times. But every time he said these words, my stomach sank just a little bit.

“Some weird shit it happening with Exo. Suho called me this morning after you left. I think I need to go see him.”

“You’re going back to them?” I narrowed my eyes, pulling my head away to look at him.

"I have to. They need me,” he replied, sighing deeply. He pulled me in for a kiss, his lips pressing delicately against mine. Maybe this was another I liked. The fact that you would expect Kris, in all his terrifying stance, to be rough and forceful. But he surprised me every time with his gentleness: his soft touches, the soft strokes and light kisses.

I could only concentrate on his lips for a second before I felt his arms wrap tightly around my waist. I braced myself, knowing exactly what was coming next. His lips left mine slowly, my hands tucked into his shirt on instinct, and then he was tipping us over the edge.

The wind rushed through my hair dangerously, the ground hurtling up to meet us. I pressed my cheek against Kris’s chest, but still kept the pavement in my sight as El Paso rushed up to swallow me whole. And then it wasn’t. We avoided the city’s snarling mouth effortlessly as Kris took me up, and up and away. And this was the real reason I couldn’t unstick myself from him, try as I might; in these soft minutes when I knew I loved him.

El Paso 23:14

<– pt 10     pt 12 –>

[247krp]

— Rejoice, little lambs! We have recovered our own Park Jiyeon, spotted prancing about in the Southwest Side. I don’t remember seeing her with any clique back in high school, but I’m not here to spill yesterday’s tea. So straight to the rundown: can you say secretive and calm? Apparently now she spends time as the owner of the Dark Paradise Strip Club, and keeps skeletons buried at Prague Tower, 102. But those won’t stay hidden for long, if you and I have any say on it. Welcome back, Bambi; we missed you so.

In case you don’t remember the devil’s name, here’s to refresh your memory: 

Back in high school, Jiyeon was a very secretive girl. She looked down at her feet everytime she had to walk down the halls of Cheongnam High. She never got along with anyone nor did anyone ever try to talk to her. She was a nobody and her high school days  were filled with calmness and tranquility. She had kept a clean image of who she was

and no one knew she lived in a foster home. On the day of her seventeenth birthday, she decided she wanted a place to call home. She started working as a bartender by lying to the owner that surprisingly took a liking to her angel face and big eyes. Although she had no experience what so ever,  the owner, Jaehyun, had just lost his best bartender, and Jiyeon was just at the right place, at the right time. For the first couple of months, she learned the ropes of how a strip club worked, how to make drinks and remember each one of them. She loved it there, she loved the atmosphere. The people that worked there including the security, the strippers and the owner loved having her around and she felt like she didn’t have to hide her personality like she did at Cheongnam High. At some point, Jiyeon decided she wanted to start stripping, it was more for the money kind of thing and she did think of it as dancing. She had always loved dancing but hid it  to everyone else. It was something she liked to do, just a hobby. As time went by, she got really famous around the club and the clients loved her because she stood out from the other girls. She looked like an angel and seemed so innocent that men loved the possibility of being able to spend a night with Bambi. Bambi had become her stage name due to her boss. The first time he actually met Jiyeon, he said she had doe eyes. However, one day, in Geometry class, all of her classmates phones rang at the same time. She suddenly felt nervous because she thought she had seen familiar faces lately at the club. And boy did Gossip Girl not go easy on her. There was pictures and videos of “Bambi” performing at Dark Paradise Strip Club. Everyone’s eyes were glued to Jiyeon. Fear took over her body, she wanted to get up and run away as far as she could get from them but it was like she was paralyzed. It was senior year, and she had managed to not get any attention to herself for three whole years. So why now? Everyone knew she was Bambi and the jokes didn’t stop until she graduated. The plastics made sure no one would even dare to try to talk to her and the boys even forgot her name was Jiyeon and made disgusting sexual suggestions to her all day.  Gossip girl humiliated her and made sure everyone and their upper class families remembered that Park Jiyeon was from the low class and will always remain there. Jiyeon hoped every night that they would all regret this one day. She knew she would be successful, at least she hoped.

Nevermind the memory lane though, the present is always the ripest fruit: 

Park Jiyeon has remained close to her boss via emails and phonecalls even though she now lives in Miami. And on her twenty-first birthday, after thirty five years of running this club, he had no children to pass his business to so he decided to let Jiyeon know that if she wanted she could be the next owner of Dark Paradise. She was so taken back by the idea of having her own business one day that she had told him she needed a day or two to think about it. A few days passed, and she said yes to his proposition. She was so proud of her for actually making something of herself. Two years has passed and the club is still as visited as before. There’s even a possibility that a lot more people visit the club now. Jiyeon’s personality has changed. She’s not the little girl she was in high school, she’s a grown independent woman. She has a confidence that cannot be broken. She knows she’s beautiful and men know it too since they’ve made attempts at trying to get  with her. But even if Jiyeon’s business is a strip club, she still has never kissed a man. She has never told anyone and people assume that she has been around due to her back round. She has now decided to change of apartment and even though high school is way behind her, she is still reluctant to reunite with her fellow classmates. Well, turns out that the new building she just moved into is full of her old Cheongnam High’s students. I truly wonder, how would Park Jiyeon cope with that?

But we are nothing if not open books – my job is to ensure you get to the best pages: 

Back in highschool, it was almost like Jiyeon never existed. She didn’t want to be a part of any clique and it wasn’t like she would have fit in anyway. Jiyeon always had a problem speaking to people; but when she was speaking to boys, it was another problem. She would always  get nervous and would never be able to look at them in the eyes. She was socially awkward and she tried to avoid any interaction. She was always alone and she liked it that way. It had been that way ever since her mom put her up for adoption when she was just a little girl, and truthfully she never felt like she belonged anywhere hence why she jumped from one foster home to another. She was only five years old but growing up without any parents supervision did make other families look at her in a different way. Jiyeon had always been struggling with money because her foster families were mostly always taking her in for the money and they never bothered to make conversation with nor help her financially.  She has never truly felt what it was to have a family nor friends. She has always created a barrier between herself and other people, especially in high school. The principal always tried to reach out to her and ask her questions. Due to her activities at night, she would always be sleeping in her classes which would make her teachers question her lifestyle. The principal had always taken an interest to Jiyeon as she always maintained perfect grades throughout her whole academic experience.

After the big scandal, Jiyeon decided to move to Miami after graduation. She lived there and worked at different clubs for over 4 years and never looked back. She was happy, she knew that no one judged her, it was a different culture and it was far, far away from Seoul. And then, one day, she gets a job proposition from an old friend to become the new owner of the club where it all started. Of course, she was terrified of coming back and possibly reuniting with everyone from Cheongnam High, but she was a new person now. She couldn’t really pass on the offer, could she?

[brywrites]

Unconventional Love II

Author’s Note: Guess who’s finally done with exams? So, as requested, here’s the second part of Unconventional Love! 

(Part I)

It’s unconventional. He knows that. Knew it from the moment he realized how young she was. It scared him away for a few weeks, but he found himself quite unable to resist her. There was something about Y/N that pulled him in. Perhaps it was the way she made him feel safe and wanted. Or the way she could keep up with his mind when they talked – most of the time. Or the way she looked at him, how a single glance could make his heart rate jump drastically.

The moment he kissed her, it was all over. He knew then that he was too far gone to ever recover.

So he agreed to start seeing her. He wouldn’t admit out loud that in a way, it thrilled him. The whole “forbidden-love” trope. A sort of mentor-student relationship. The twelve year age gap made him hesitant – and yet, excited. He doesn’t think he’s had a thing for younger girls. It’s this particular girl. Everything about her draws him in.

After only a few months of dating, he knows it for sure: he loves her.

It’s why he finally invites her to meet his team. They’re his family, his life, and he wants her to be a part of his life. All they know is that he’s seeing someone. They know only her name, nothing else. She is one secret he has kept closely guarded, and for good reason; but she wants to be a part of his life just as much.

He never has been good at saying no to her.

So when Rossi throws a dinner party, he brings her along. In order to avoid too much attention, he picks her up at a coffee shop just off campus, away from the prying eyes of college students too prone to gossip. After several months, she still manages to take his breath away, sitting on a bench in a velvet dress, her hair pinned up, a book in her hands. At the sound of his car, she looks up, and immediately stands to greet him, the sound of her heels clicking on the sidewalk. A smile spreads across her face and the reflection of the lamplight in her eyes makes her look absolutely radiant.

The ride over is filled with a quiet anxiety for the both of them.

“What if they don’t like me?” she asks.

“Nonsense,” he assures her. “They’ll love you. My team is my family, and they’re all amazing people. There’s nothing to worry about.” There are exactly twelve things worrying him, however. Twelve years that separate him from her. Twelve things that his team will inevitably notice.

He can see it on Rossi’s face when he answers the door. The older agent is skilled in keeping a poker face, but microexpressions come through of their own accord, quiet messages to the those who know how to read them. They plainly say: shock, surprise, confusion.

Reid doesn’t miss a beat though, smiling and putting his arm around Y/N’s waist in a way only romantic partners do. “Y/N, this is David Rossi, my colleague. Rossi, this is Y/F/N Y/L/N. My girlfriend.”

Rossi dons the warm expression of an impeccable host and shakes her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I didn’t realize our Dr. Reid kept the company of such pretty girls.” Beside him, she visibly relaxes. Greeting Rossi is only the beginning though. The rest of the team is waiting inside, and he can only hope it goes smoothly. He’s never felt this way about someone before, and the last thing he wants is for tonight to put an end to the fairy-tale life he feels he’s been living in.

At first, it seems fine. He makes introductions, and she makes small talk with his team. She’s trying, she’s trying so hard to make a good impression. All smiles and strong handshakes and that genuine warmth she always exudes. Surely they can tell how much this means to her? To him?

JJ asks how they met. “In a library, actually,” she says. “Which only seems fitting. I was studying and Spencer asked about one of the books I was reading. One conversation led to another, and we just sort… fell together. Like it was the easiest thing in the world.”

“Studying?” JJ repeats. “Are you in a doctoral program?”

Y/N falters, and glances to him. He nods, encouraging her. Lying will only make things worse. The truth always comes out in the end, so it’s better to be honest up front. Nevertheless, it feels like pulling out a thorn, and he tries not to wince at the pain he anticipates.

“I-I’m a student at Georgetown. In the College.”

Conversations with in their earshot suddenly fall quieter, and he tries not to notice the way every head in the room turns ever so slightly their way. JJ blinks, her eyebrows raised. “In the College? How old are you exactly?”

Reid holds his breath. She squeezes his hand. “Um, twenty. I’m a sophomore.” The silence is so pervasive, the entire room is nothing but a series of inhales and exhales.

He feels someone grab his arm, and Hotch says, “Reid, can I speak to you outside?” The unit chief drags him out to Rossi’s patio, and he realizes the rest of the team has followed.

Morgan shuts the glass door behind them, then rounds on him. “Reid, man, what the hell are you thinking? Twenty? That girl’s not even old enough to drink!”

“I’m aware of that,” he says. More than aware. Morgan has no idea how many nights he would lie awake wondering if it was worth it. Going over every reason to say no to her in his mind, trying to keep his distance. It was never enough to keep him away from her. Some things defy logic, explanation and reason.

“What if someone finds out about this?” Hotch asks. “It could cause trouble for you.”

“She’s over eighteen,” Reid answers, indignant. As if he would be so stupid as to get involved with a minor! “And in college. There’s no need for it to be a scandal.”

JJ jumps in, her usual smile a firm frown. “Spence, she could tell someone! She could lie and make something up about you. I mean, what does a college girl want with someone like you anyways? How do you know she’s not just using you?”

It doesn’t escape his notice that they refuse to use her name. She, it, they, that girl. He can’t help but jump to her defense. “You don’t even know her! If you took the time to, you’d realize she’s not like that! Y/N has been nothing but careful and kind. And is it so hard to believe that someone like her is genuinely interested in me? I realize I’m older and I’m not exactly cool, but she likes me for me, and that much I know for sure!”

“Spence, I didn’t mean-”

“Then why did you say that? Why is everyone’s first assumption that she’s a problem? I realize it’s unconventional. I’m well aware that she’s twelve years younger than I am. I get it, okay? But we’ve been seeing each other for a while, long enough for me to know I trust her, and long enough for me to know that I love her! I brought her here because I thought you all would be happy for me!”

An uncomfortable silence settles over them. “We’re only trying to protect you,” Rossi says.

The door opens, and Alex steps out to join them. “Spencer, your girlfriend is really quite lovely,” she says. “I’m so glad you brought her with you.”

Morgan clears his throat. “Blake, it doesn’t bother you at all that she’s still in college?”

Alex shakes her head. “No, not at all. She seems intelligent, sweet, and very mature. I don’t think it has to be a problem. I mean, James and I are nine years apart. He was a TA in one of my college classes. That was far more forbidden, but when you know… you know. I’ve never stopped loving him. I think that if Reid loves her, and Y/N loves him, then that’s enough.” She flashes him a smile, and he hopes that she can read the thank-you in his eyes.

Then he realizes that Alex was the only one who hadn’t immediately joined them on the patio. “Wait, if you’re out here, is Y/N just alone inside?” Alarmed that he’s been so careless, he runs back inside, only to find her happily engaged in conversation with Garcia, who’s laughing loudly at something Y/N has just said. Seeing that, he can finally breathe a little easier. If Garcia is laughing, it’s a yes from her. That’s two of the team down, four more to win over.

The agents slowly file back inside, and when they do, Y/N pulls him aside. “You were talking about me, weren’t you?” she asks. Remarkably observant, she is. He nods, embarrassed. Softly she says, “Maybe this is a bad idea. I don’t want to get you into any trouble. Not with the FBI, and not with your friends. If my age is going to ruin things for you, maybe it’s best if we stop seeing each other.” Each word comes out strained, and she can’t make eye contact. Her body language takes away the fear that she wants to break-up with him, as every part of her is screaming that the last thing she wants is to leave. Which is good, because every part of him wants her to stay.

“No! Of course not! I mean, yes, we were talking about you. But I don’t care about any of that. There are no rules against it, and I don’t care if they don’t see how incredible you are, because I do. It doesn’t matter to me how old you are, I know what I feel for you is real. And I have to believe that eventually, they’ll see that. If nothing else, they have to see how happy you make me.”

She blushes, finally glancing up at him. “You’re sure you’re not embarrassed by me? I mean, I know it isn’t easy to be dating someone so young.”

He takes her hands and kisses her fiercely. There’s no way he could ever be embarrassed by her. Not once has she ever made him feel ashamed. On the contrary, she’s given him new confidence. As someone who had to grow up so fast, she makes him feel young in all the best ways – not immature or childish, but alive. Around her, he finds he has more energy, and everything feels more exciting. As though somehow he has managed to be more present in the world with her. He never realized it was possible to live this way until she came along.

There is more light in his life with her, whether they’re walking in a park or she’s kissing him in the back of his car. She never asks too much of him, but she always challenges him to be better. If there is anything he learned as a twelve year-old child prodigy, it’s that age is merely a number. An arbitrary value that matters very little outside of important legal definitions. Maybe that’s why he finds it strangely thrilling to be with someone twelve years younger than him – he himself spent so much of his life out of his own league, around people so much older than him.

“I don’t want easy,” he says, when he finally pulls away. “I want you. I knew what I was getting into the moment I kissed you, and I have never regretted that. I don’t care what they think – I know that I love you.” It has taken him this long to finally get those three words out, but he wants to show the kind of confidence in their relationship that she has demonstrated. She was the one who believed in them, who was willing to fight for what she felt when he was too scared to.

He doesn’t want to keep this a secret anymore.

“I love you too,” she replies, and he’s never imagined how good it would feel to hear her say that back to him. He’s just about to kiss her again when someone whistles, and they both whirl around to see Morgan standing there, eyebrows raised.

“Don’t stop on my behalf,” he laughs. “Look, we want to apologize. Y/N, we meant no disrespect. When it comes to Reid, we do want him to be happy. That’s why we’re so protective of him. But if you two are happy together, then that’s cause for celebration. So what do you say? We good?”

She smiles. “Yeah. We’re good. Thank you.” They follow Morgan into the kitchen, where the rest of the team offers up amends. Y/N takes it all in stride, and he knows that if she can handle this – his job, his team, all the demands of that life – they’ll be okay. He sends a silent thank you up to Carl Jung for the book that brought them together. Never in a million years did he think he’d be with someone like her.

Rossi proposes a toast, and is doling out glasses of wine, when Morgan says, “Oh! And Y/N, of course. Don’t wanna forget you.” Then he grins and hands her a juice box. “We can’t exactly have the FBI condoning any lawbreaking.”

She bursts out laughing, and rolls her eyes, but Reid can tell that means Morgan is accepting her. It’s not a harsh judgment, but a brotherly sort of teasing. Garcia and Alex have already warmed up to her, and he figures it won’t be too long before Hotch and JJ come around.

It’s late at night when they leave, and she falls asleep as he drives back to her dorm. In the glow of the streetlights, he stares at her, in all her perfection. Peaceful, gentle, and so incredibly lovely. She’s his. And he’s hers. And it’s unconventional, of course, but he’s never done anything traditionally. Unconventional though it may be, that spark is real.

He’s tired of giving himself a thousand reasons why he doesn’t deserve to be happy, when there’s someone right in front of him who proves him wrong each time. With her, he doesn’t have to overthink or overanalyze. It’s easy. As it should be.

This love makes him better. This love is unconventional.

But this love is very, very real.

[theoppositeofadaydream-blog]

Call Me. URGENT.

There is a moment in everyone’s life that becomes special to them for some reason. Not a moment in the relativity of life, but an exact moment in time. For me that moment is 11:47 pm. At 11:47 almost every night my eyes find the nearest clock and I sigh. This exhalation is the physical signal that my mind has hit my mental wall. There is nothing more I can do this evening, all that’s left is to is take an Ambien and go to sleep, hoping for a dreamless night. At 11:47 pm, the world is too quiet, the lights too bright, and my mind too busy. At 11:47 all the tragedy comes rushing back to me and I no longer have the brain capacity to deal with the bad events. At 11:47, my day is done.

July 8th, 2016

“Call me. URGENT”

Whenever I see those three words come from contact “Momma”, my stomach turns inside out.

“Call me. URGENT” was the text I received on the most heartbreaking days of my life.

“Did you get this text from Mom?” I asked my sister. More frequently than not, Mom texted us both at the same time.

“Yeah…” came the reply. We puzzled for a moment over what it could be, then had a little back and forth on who would call. Sometimes an URGENT text from Mom meant someone was in trouble. We decided I would call Mom, but my sister stayed close to listen. After one ring, Mom picked up.

“Sweetie?”

“Hi, Momma, what’s wrong?” I immediately  asked. I could hear the strain in her voice as she asked me to put her on speaker with my sister.

“It’s your Uncle…” she finally managed out, “They- They found his body this morning… H-he jumped off the Bay Bridge.” The world stopped as I tried to process what had just happened. Dead? My Uncle? I couldn’t believe that this could happen. But, I also could believe it.

My uncle had been sick. Physically he was perfect -- he played tennis, hiked, ate healthy, and kept his mind sharp. But none of it was enough to help him later.

Last December Mom had given us the family gossip that he had admitted himself into a hospital for suicidal thoughts. Twice. He was at his ranch up near Sacramento when he called his aunt to take him to the hospital. She did, and he was admitted for 72 hours. After the three days were up, he got picked up and began to head home. But it was still too much. He freaked out and needed to go back, before he even got a chance to see his house. My grandma flew in from Colorado the next day to see him and take care of him.

At Christmas that year, he was his usual self -- happy, cheerful, slightly flustered. But it was all normal. He brought my cousin and everyone had a great time. We were all together and it seemed the worst was behind us. He spoke openly about what had happened and how much better he felt now that he was taking medicine for his troubles. It seemed like a bout of depression, more stress than he was able to handle. But it all turned around.

A few months later, we heard that my uncle was “going off the deep end”. My sister and I were warned to keep an ear out and tell Mom if he called us. He had had a schizophrenic break. He fully believed the government was out to get him, and that his father’s death (also suicide) was a government ploy as well. He thought my grandparents were gun and drug smugglers, he thought my aunt wanted to take his son away, he thought his whole family was in on the conspiracy. As heartbreaking as hearing the accusations was, it was even more heartbreaking hearing how much he believed them. If anyone tried to convince him to see a doctor, he would repeat his hollow mantra, “I am fine. I am absolutely fine.”

On Christmas he said those words. When we came to him as a family, he said those words. On the night he died, he said these words. These were the words he gave to the people he cared about. These are the words he gave to himself as he drove to the bridge, parked his motorcycle, and jumped.

“I am absolutely fine.”

The next month was a flurry of emotions and consolations. Every night we went to my grandmother’s house to comfort her. She became frail and weak with grief as she attempted to process. Both of her children were dead -- taken by the most cruel ways a child can be taken. Her daughter, taken by drugs, her son taken by mental illness and fear. We could not begin to imagine the pain she was going through.

As we helped her move forward, we began to heal as a family. I took up the position and responsibility of helping my aunt with my cousin. It was difficult to believe that such a huge influence on my life would no longer be there. He was the man who stepped up as a father figure to my sister and I when my mom had cancer. He taught me how to play tennis, and got us one of the best coaches. He helped with homework, and took us on trips. The only silver lining is that we still have the man we knew, instead of the man he became, forever in our memories.

September 21, 2016

“Call me. URGENT”

When I woke up that morning, nothing could stop me. I went to my therapy appointment after which my boyfriend surprised me by skipping class to take me to breakfast. It was a beautiful morning, a perfect day to get my homework done outside and enjoy the sun. As we were driving back from breakfast at my favorite cafe, I got the text.

But the text isn’t what set me off that morning. It was the follow-up phone call from my grandma. When I saw “Nanny” pop up on the screen, I assumed she just wanted to check in about my plans for the day and evening (I lived with her, so we had constant communication).

“Hey Nanny, what’s up” I began, not knowing what was in store.

“Have you talked to your mother today?” She immediately asked.

“No, why?” I replied. As I said this, I felt the all too familiar uneasiness of a bad situation start up in my stomach.

“You need to call her.” Nanny said, “Your sister is in the hospital.”

“What, why? How? What happened?” I began to cry as the hysteria began to set in. My chest tightened and white noise filled my ears as Nanny tried to tell me what happened.

“She was at a friend’s house, I guess, and they found her not breathing this morning,” I heard her say through a fog. “It looks like a drug overdose. Your mom is on the way to the hospital now, I’m on the way home.” By this time my boyfriend had pulled over to try to comfort me as I sobbed. I hung up with nanny and my world caved in. And I screamed. I had never before understood why people screamed when bad things happened in movies. What was the point when nothing was hurting? But in that moment, I understood. The pain of the thought of my baby sister in a hospital, dying, was too much for me to take. So I screamed. And screamed and screamed. What felt like an eternity was only really a minute or two, until my brain turned back on into crisis mode. That’s when I finally saw the text.

“Call me. URGENT” And so I called.

When my mom picked up, I began to sob again.

“Sweetie,” came the quick reply to my tears, “Do you have any idea who she was with or what she was doing? She was in Vacaville? Does she know anyone there?” I have never heard my mom so desperate for answers before.

“I have no idea, Momma,” I sobbed back, “Is she going to be okay?”

“We don’t know yet, honey. She’s in really bad shape. Wait for Nanny then come up here. Don’t drive. I’ll text you the name of the hospital.”

I felt like a switch had turned off on my mind. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t react. I heard my boyfriend trying to talk to me, but I couldn’t hear the words. I felt like I was sinking down a dark hole that not even light could escape from. All of my optimism and positive energy was useless as I pictured my sister lying in a hospital.

Finally I snapped out of it and was able to respond. My voice sounded as if it was coming through a tunnel.

“We need to wait for Nanny,” I finally managed to choke out. “Can you drive us?” I turned to him with pleading eyes. I knew he had to go to work and had things to do, but I also knew it wasn’t safe for me to be alone or driving.

“Of course,” he replied, “Anything you need.”

He took me back to my house to wait for Nanny and my dad, who were both coming from San Francisco. While we waited I sat on my sister’s bed and looked around her room helplessly for anything that would give me a clue to what had happened. With nothing to show from my search, I hugged Tabby’s favorite stuffed animal to my chest and cried. I packed her favorite (and my least favorite) pair of boots, some pajamas, and her stuffed animal to bring with me to the hospital.

Finally, we got the word that my dad and grandma were at Bart ready to be picked up. The drive to Fairfield usually takes a little over an hour, but we made it there in 45 minutes. The longest 45 minutes of my life passed before me as I frantically texted all of Tabby’s friends trying to find out more. Her friends told me about her drug use, and how they had become a little worried. By this time, her toxicology screen had come back. She was full of Cocaine and another unspecified opiate. My world caved in a little more. She should know better! Drugs were a constant negative theme in my family. I was taken away from my birth parents because of drug use, my dad had been an addict, my mom’s sister had died from drugs. The swirl of emotions was overwhelming as I tried to piece together what happened.

After the most agonizing 45 minutes of my life, we arrived at the hospital. My grandma and I sprinted in to find my mom. I ran into the waiting room we were given, and flung myself into my mom’s arms. I began to cry once again with her as we mourned for my sister. Mom filled us in to what happened as best she could.

My little sister had gotten way in over her head. She had gone over to a friend’s house, someone none of us knew. She was drinking, smoking, doing drugs, and it all went too far. The last contact anyone had from her was a text I received from her at 12:03 AM saying “Don’t look at my snaps”. Once I realized what had happened, I tried to look, only to find out she had blocked me from seeing them anyway. At 10 AM, her friend woke up and tried to wake her up. He noticed she was “gurgling” and was unresponsive. He immediately called 911. When the paramedics got to her, she was declared dead. Her heart had stopped and she wasn’t responding. They performed CPR for 7 minutes until they got a thready pulse from her. They put her on a breathing tube, adrenaline, and all the monitors they could. She died three more times in the ambulance.

 Once she got to the emergency room and did a scan, they discovered one of her lungs had popped, so a tube was placed in her side. Her chances of living were 50/50 at best. She had more vomit in her lungs than anyone thought possible to come back from. 

When the doctor came in to give us the news, the only sound was my mother’s desperate “Oh, God…” We huddled together, waiting, waiting, waiting. We waited while they put her in a coma and lowered her temperature to as low as they could. As we sat, Mom clung to the stuffed animal I brought for my sister, using it as a surrogate for the daughter she couldn’t hold. We all sat nearly silently as we processed and grieved in our individual ways. My dad sighed, my mom cried, and me… I didn’t even know what to do. I clung to my boyfriend as fresh waves of emotion crashed over me. He was my beacon, my floatation device that prevented me from sinking down into my despair. I cried, I paced, and I cried some more. Every time someone spoke, fresh tears welled in my eyes.

When the doctors finally finished getting my sister on a bed and hooked up to all the machines, we were allowed to go see her. The image of my baby sister on that bed will forever haunt me. There was blood on her face, her eyes were swollen. But the most horrifying part was her skin. It was one thing to know what had happened, but to be able to physically see it was terrifying. Her skin was grey with a blue tone. She looked dead already. I gently put her stuffed animal under her hand and kissed her forehead before they wheeled her away to the Intensive Care Unit.

Leaving her room, the shock really set in. It really was my sister in there. There was no mistaken identity, no mix-ups. My little sister was lying in the hospital on Death’s doorstep. My mom, dad, and I huddled together outside of her room and held each other up as we cried. Never before have I seen my parents so broken. Never before have I felt so lost. There was nothing we could do but wait.

“When is it going to get easy?” I heard my mom wail through her tears. “When do we get to catch a break?” All I could do was cry and hug her, because I had the same questions. When would it get easy for us? After everything we had been through, why couldn’t we catch a break?

For six days we waited in the ICU. For six days we took shifts, making sure she was never alone. For six days we prayed and hoped and waited for her to wake up out of her coma. Every day the nurses yelled at her, trying to get her to open her eyes. Every day I read to her and held her hand, holding back tears so she wouldn’t hear how sad I was. For six days, we lived at the East Bay Medical Center of Fairfield, surrounded by nurses and doctors, hoping for the best but preparing for the worst. For six days I called my therapist, called my friends, and fought the notion that I was the worst sister in the world. For six days, we waited.

The morning my sister woke up, her dog jumped onto my bed. I had been staying with my dad for the past couple of days since his house was less of a drive than mine. At 10:13 on a Tuesday morning, Ginger woke up minutes before my dad knocked on the door. He came in and shook me lightly as he said the most wonderful words I could have hoped for.

“She woke up!”

This time when I cried, the tears were not bitter with loss, but sweet with the hope of recovery. My baby sister had woken up! After six days in a coma, she was going to make it. Then relief I felt was indescribable. The weight that had been sitting on my chest finally lifted and I felt like I could take a breath for the first time.

The next few days only looked up as we met with neurologists, speech therapist, social workers, and cardiologists. They all said the same thing. She was lucky to be alive, and even luckier to have the minimal damage she had. I had never before been so overjoyed to see my little sister’s green eyes glaring up at me when I wouldn’t let her use my phone. I had never been so thrilled to have my hands swatted away when I tried to fuss over her blankets. She was back. My baby sister was back with us.

At 11:47 PM, the world slows down as I think about the past three months and all the trials it brought me.

Although these horribly tragic things happen, we must grow and learn from them as best we can. My uncle taught me that family is the most important thing. That no matter where in life we all stand, we have each other to rely on. His death gave us the one thing he always would have wanted -- unity. We came together in a time of grief and held each other up in our movement forward.

My sister taught me to appreciate my mortality and how to prop myself up when faced with heartbreak. I never would have thought I could get through something like this, yet I did. The strength I showed to myself surprised me, and taught me how much I can handle in my struggle forward. She showed me how I can make smarter choices and live my life to the fullest.

We still have a long way to go in recovery. My sister, my mom, my dad, me. We all have places we need to get out of, and directions we need to change. Though my sister’s will be the most eventful recovery, we all have a road to take. All we can do is support each other and do our best as we continue together.