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demetriandelibinaryboyfriends · 4 years ago

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Hello! So, something that always intrigued me is the concept of “reverse aus,” and I’ve been thinking about that in the context of Cobra Kai for a while now. How do you think it would go down if Demetri was the one to get roped into Cobra Kai? Obviously, I don’t think he would be as into as Eli canonically was (probably due to it becoming a special interest for him), but I’d be curious to hear your take on it. Would Eli end up going to Miyagi-Do like canon Demetri did, or would Demetri and Eli sort of become the new Evil Karate Husbands™️? And possibly, how do you think Demetri and Johnny’s dynamic would go? (I’m just going to awkwardly add that this is cc-tinslebee, coming to you live from my main blog because I don’t think Tumblr let’s sideblogs send asks-)

So this is actually the SECOND ask I’ve gotten about this scenario--Cherry sent in another one!--so I figured I’d give it a stab. Took me a while to work out how I think it would go and how everything would play out different if Demetri and Eli’s roles were reversed, but I’m pretty happy with how it turned out. I tried to make it more interesting than just “Demetri does all the stuff Eli does and Eli does all the stuff Demetri does.”

Also I lowkey LOVE the idea of Evil Karate Husbands and even though that isn’t the direction this particular AU goes in, I might do a divergent spin-off AU to explore that too??? Because man...the thought of Miguel desperately trying to save his two best friends who have fallen to the dark side...*cries*

Fair warning that this AU is gonna get dark as shit--I fully belive things would’ve gotten equally fucked up between them in a role reverse AU, just, ah...in slightly different ways. A lot of this will not be Happy Times later on, much like their canon relationship XD

OKAY TIME FOR PAIN, LET’S GOOOO

Longboi post so be warned!!!

Season 1

After getting his ass handed to him--for trying to stick up for Eli, no less--Demetri was pissed. Why the hell was he paying some guy to beat him up for daining to have a problem with him bullying his best friend? Going home in a rage, he nearly texted Miguel to tell him he was quitting--but something stopped him just before he hit Send.

He remembered the look on Eli’s face just after Kyler shoved him away. He remembered seeing Eli stiffen when Kyler grabbed him by the chin, practically feeling the terror emanate from his friend’s body. He remembered how completely and infuriatingly helpless he felt.

It certainly wasn’t the first time something like that had happened. But maybe if Miguel was onto something--maybe if karate really could protect him and Eli from the bullies--it could be the last.

Mr. Lawrence (or Sensei Lawrence, as he obnoxiously insisted on being called) hardly let up on bullying Eli. Even at Eli’s request not to call him “Lip” and the pleading of his star student Miguel Diaz himself, the man only seemed to crack down harder--in some sort of twisted effort to “toughen Eli up,” Demetri guessed. Demetri defended Eli every single time, not mincing any words mouthing off at Sensei Lawrence. It got Demetri punched in the face, flipped on the mat, saddled with much harder drills than the rest of the class, but he didn’t give a shit. He wasn’t about to let anyone treat Eli like that, no matter what pain he had to endure for it.

Johnny, meanwhile, is immensely annoyed by this obnoxious, sarcastic kid who just can’t stop running his mouth--but working him twice as hard as the rest of the class is proving to be fruitless in shutting him up. But, Johnny’s finding, Demetri constantly antagonizing him doesn’t have to be a hindrance. Anger like that can be weaponized--the more he provokes Demetri, the more he insults and belittles that Eli kid he’s so attached to, the harder Demetri punches. The quicker he moves when he fights. The stronger he kicks. Johnny sometimes comes home after training covered in nasty bruises, almost entirely from sparring Demetri--they’re enough to make Carmen and Rosa Diaz worry he’s getting jumped on the way home.

One day Johnny takes his ribbing of Eli just a little too far, hoping to get an especially vicious reaction out of Demetri. Eli, pushed to the end of his rope, runs out of the dojo, barely holding back tears. Demetri starts to go after him, but Miguel puts a hand on his arm and stops him, saying they can both check up on him later.

When Demetri finds Eli after practice, Eli’s sobbing. “I can’t do this anymore, Deme. No matter what you say to him, he just keeps picking on me. It never stops.” Demetri winces, because Eli isn’t wrong--Sensei Lawrence really hasn’t stopped bullying Eli at all, and while Demetri was busy letting himself get riled up by it, he didn’t actually think to see how it was affecting Eli. “Well, I know it sucks now, and Mr. Lawrence is a huge asshole, but we’re learning to be tough,” Demetri reasons. “We’re learning to be intimidating. A few more months here, and the bullies will never touch us again! Just like Miguel!” And Eli just scowls, uncharacteristically angry for his timid self, and says “Well, it’s not worth it if I have to feel like shit the whole time! If every time I step in here I get everything about me picked apart, over and over again! I’m done with this, Demetri.”

And just like that, Eli is out of the dojo. Demetri can’t help but be disappointed--he’d looked forward to them training together, and seeing Eli become a badass, fearless fighter who could hand Kyler’s ass to him after all those fucked up things he said to Eli. And to make matters worse, Sensei Lawrence doesn’t stop using Eli as fuel to rip out Demetri’s rage long after Eli’s gone. “Oooh, Loudmouth, feeling sad today? Missing Lip the Quitter?” “You keep throwing punches like that, and you could get beat up by that loser with the fucked lip you were so enamored with. Although knowing you, you’d let him win anyways.” And Demetri can’t help but hate the man, but damn, if it doesn’t feel good to land an especially good hit on him, or jab him in the thigh with a powerful kick.

But things aren’t bad--Demetri still has Miguel, and their new friend Aisha. Eli still hangs out with them outside of practice, and indulges Demetri in his ever-increasing ramblings about martial arts, no matter how nervous and uncomfortable karate tends to make Eli. If Demetri likes it that much, maybe he should make an effort to show interest in it. The four of them crash Yasmine’s birthday party, and Demetri even finds himself smooth-talking them into getting alcohol with his newfound confidence. After all, if he can land punches faster than a snake can strike, how difficult can it be to weasel his way into getting a little beer?

Meanwhile Moon, feeling understandably unfulfilled in her popular clique, takes an interest in the Cool New Karate Gang in town, and after apologizing to Aisha at the beach rager, the two strike up a friendship. She comes to hang out with their group more and more, and Eli finds her surprisingly easy to talk to. Moon constantly makes an effort to include him when the others get to wrapped up talking about karate, and he appreciates her kindness and sincerity. It’s odd, really, how easy it is to have a conversation with her, considering how nervous he tends to get around her. But Eli doesn’t think too much about it.

When it comes time for the tournament, Moon and Eli go together to support their friends. Eli finds his gaze flickering back and forth between Moon and Demetri, lingering on each of them longer than he would care to admit--and he can’t quite explain why. Something about Moon’s wide, excited smile, the smell of cherry shampoo in her hair...but also Demetri’s smug, triumphant smirk when he pulls off an especially impressive move, the way his wiry arm muscles ripple when he fights. They’re both just so...captivating.

Demetri, for his part, is ruthless. Much more so than Eli has ever seen him be. He’s always been sarcastic and cynical, but resigned to his fate--at the tournament, Demetri lashes out in vicious ways the old Demetri would never have had the courage to pull off. He talks shit to the other contestants far beyond what’s considered “sportsmanlike”--and Eli can tell he’s not holding back, with the theatrical body language channeling every awful thing he’s saying.

Demetri fights like lightning--he weaves and maneuvers and strikes at breakneck speed, a limber, flashing form hitting all across his opponent’s bodies before they have any idea what’s happening. He dodges hits and jumps aside like he has some cosmic sense of when and where they’re coming. And it scares Eli, seeing a viciousness and relentlessness in Demetri that he’s never encountered before--but somehow, he finds, he just can’t look away.

Season 2

After the tournament, Demetri’s life has never been better. At the summer’s start, he’s still riding the high of the Cobra Kai tournament win. He didn’t take home the trophy, but suffice to say he got much farther than anyone believed a scrawny, lanky nerd ever would, and he is incredibly smug about it. He realizes, at the end of the day, he’s gotten what he always wanted after all--the bullies don’t come near him and Eli at all, and he can rest easy, knowing Eli is finally safe. However, he’s so busy embracing his new skills that at times, he almost forgets that was ever even an issue. His newfound fighting prowess has caught the attention of Yasmine, of all people--maybe someone who can throw kicks that good isn’t as much of a loser as she originally thought.

She finds out after her family’s plans to go to France for the summer fall through, and she finally patches things up with Moon after their fallout at the beach party. Moon can’t stop gushing about how amazing Demetri was at the tournament--both she and her new friend Eli (who Yasmine definitely thinks seems like a weirdo, but hey--maybe if Moon thinks he’s worth her time, he can’t be that much of a loser) were so impressed with him. Interest piqued, Yasmine joins their little but ever-growing group. She finds herself quickly drawn in by Demetri’s ever-growing confidence, intelligence, and surprisingly enjoyable (if somewhat annoying) sense of humor, and before long, the two are dating.

Yasmine and Aisha are...cool. Kind of. Yasmine doesn’t quite apologize, and the two aren’t friends by any stretch of imagination, but they tolerate each other, and Yasmine refrains from making awful comments and picking on Aisha in front of their friends. Aisha, for her part, does her best not to lash out or be mean to Yasmine either, keeping the peace mainly for Demetri’s and Moon’s sakes.

Meanwhile, it would take an idiot not to notice the rather starstruck looks Eli’s been shooting in Moon’s direction. Moon, for her part, is either entirely oblivious or simply doesn’t even think to consider a shy, timid, nerdy kid as a romantic option, even if she does consider him a friend.

Oddly, Demetri finds himself extremely bothered by Eli’s doe-eyed crush on Moon. He really can’t place why--he has a girlfriend already, so it really shouldn’t bug him so much that Eli is finally growing noticably interested in girls too, now that they tend to be in closer proximity. And it’s not even like Moon seems to be at all interested in reciprocating. Maybe, he figures, it’s the fact that Moon never would have even looked their way if it weren’t for the fact that he and Miguel and Aisha were the “Cool Karate Gang.” The same karate gang, of course, that Eli quit. That Eli didn’t have it in him to fully be a part of. And yet here he is, reaping the benefits still.

Interestingly, Yasmine also seems bothered by Eli’s affections for her friend. Demetri feels her stiffen beside him and sees her shooting disapproving looks whenever she catches Eli staring at Moon. Demetri isn’t sure why she seems to take issue with this too--perhaps she thinks Moon is too good for Eli, and her friend deserves better than a shy, awkward nerd.

Something about this mindset very much rubs Demetri the wrong way, but he pushes the feeling aside. Maybe he should count his blessings instead of being so inwardly critical of his girlfriend. After all, not everyone gets to date the hottest girl in school.

The day of Valley Fest arrives, and Yasmine goes to support her boyfriend. Moon and Eli tag along, eager to support their friends as well. Caught up in the thrill of the blaring music, the bright, flashing lights, the audience cheering, Demetri feels a wave of pride as he looks at his little group of friends that came for him, yelling and whooping and jumping up and down. For some reason, he finds his gaze drawn specifically to Eli, wearing a grin bigger than Demetri’s seen in months and eyes absolutely glowing.

Suddenly Demetri feels an overpowering urge to wrap Eli up in this world he’s fallen in love with, immerse him entirely in the karate that’s made Demetri feel so much more happy and free in the past several months. Grinning, he strides forward and reaches down, using the absurd upper body strength he’s built up since he’s started karate to yank Eli up onto the stage. He hands his best friend a wooden board and steps back, racing forward and snapping it in half with a jumping roundhouse kick. For a few seconds, Eli can do nothing but stare at the broken board, something shifting inside of him.

After that, Eli decides maybe it’s time to give karate another go. Something about the way Demetri positively shone onstage--how genuinely happy all of it seemed to make him--makes him thing it can’t be so bad, even if he does get taunted for his lip again.

He stops by the dojo the following week, gathering up every ounce of courage he has to ask that mean blonde man how he goes about joining the dojo again. He’s hoping against hope that maybe, after all these months of teaching students and a tournament win under his belt, the edge of his pathetic cruelty will at least have been taken off.

No such luck. Upon seeing Eli walk into the dojo, Johnny greets him with “Hey, Lip is back! Real world not treat you as nicely as you thought?” The two are, regrettably, completely alone in the dojo. Eli sucks in his breath--Demetri isn’t around, so if anyone is going to defend him, it’ll have to be him himself.

“Could you please not call me that?” His voice shakes as he says it, but nonetheless, he finishes the statement. It occurs to him that not once in his (admittedly brief) stay in Cobra Kai did he simply...request that Sensei Lawrence not call him Lip. Demetri’s approach was always to get angry about it, go off on the sensei about how wrong it was to mock someone’s appearance, but Eli himself had never been the one to make a case for Sensei Lawrence to treat him better.

It hardly helped. Sensei Lawrence just claimed that if he didn’t want him to call him Lip, he shouldn’t have a freaky lip, and then went on to claim whoever did his cleft lip surgery must have done an awful job. Eli attempted to move away from the topic, but Sensei Lawrence didn’t let up. “It’s hard to when it’s right in front of me. Hard to believe Demetri was so willing to defend you like some knight in shining armor or some shit. You’re pathetic.” Having heard enough, Eli storms out, anger overtaking him. How could he have been so stupid, to think this was going to go any better? Why did he think that just because this man had been willing to help Miguel and Demetri (who were normal) become badass meant he would extend the same treatment to the freak with the lip scar?

Eli calls Demetri in tears. “I don’t know how you can train with someone like him,” Eli spits out. “He’s a shit person, Demetri. I--I don’t know what you and Miguel are thinking. It’s like he gets some kind of...I don’t know, sadistic pleasure out of bullying people. He’s not any better than the people he claims he’s trying to help you fight.”

Demetri, to his horror, reacts only with scorn, scoffing and rolling his eyes. “God, all this drama because he was mean about your lip again? Jesus christ, grow a backbone, Eli. I hate to say it, but I think Mr. Lawrence was right--if you can’t even handle someone making some insensitive comments about your scar, how are you going to handle an elbow to the teeth? Or any training more intensive than a slap on the wrist, anyway?”

Eli can do nothing but just stare at him through the screen. Demetri, the one person who he has always been able to count on to not comment on his scar, the one person who has always comforted him or talked him through it when he cried, is brushing him completely off--being an asshole about the one thing Eli was certain he never would be. Why is Demetri, of all people, not taking his side on this?

All Eli knows for sure is that he doesn’t like this new version of Demetri one bit. What happened to the best friend who was always willing to fight for him, no matter what it took? Now, he seems more concerned with looking cool and tough and upkeeping some kind of ridiculous reputation than Eli’s own well-being.

Over the next few days, a rage he didn’t know he even had in him bubbles up inside Eli. He decides if Demetri’s going to play dirty, so is he. And maybe, if Eli plays his cards right, the old Demetri will come back.

Despite his long-standing frustration with the way adults treat him--delicately, condescendingly, like a Thing of Pity--Eli figures he can get some use out of it for once. If this is the only way they’re going to see him regardless, he might as well use it to his advantage. And so he goes crying to his mom, who he knows for a fact other adults talk about being a “valued member of the community” and probably has some influence and some strings she can pull. He bawls to her about how his best friend has turned into an unrecognizable jerk, all because he’s training with a middle-aged man with the mindset of a high school bully who has no issue verbally abusing his students. Sure enough, discussions are had with the Neighborhood Committee, phone calls are placed, and Eli overhears his mother vowing to shut down that degenerate karate place if it’s the last thing she ever does.

Meanwhile, back at the dojo, Kreese makes an announcement. The elderly, intimidating man has recently teamed up with Johnny to teach--and he gives Demetri the creeps, if he’s honest, but he seems to know his stuff when it comes to karate, so Demetri goes along with this new addition to the sensei roster. However, when Johnny goes off to visit his high school friends and leaves the kids alone with the new Sensei, Demetri can’t help but feel uneasy.

“Now, the dojo’s been getting some concerned phone calls,” Kreese says, arms crossed and expression difficult to read. He doesn’t seem to be angry--if anything, he looks faintly amused. “Parents of the local teenagers are worried. They think Cobra Kai is full of bullies. Think our methods are...abusive, even. They want to shut us down.” Worried murmurs start to echo around the room, but Kreese silences them as he goes on. “Oh, don’t worry. It won’t be a problem. I have my ways of talking people down. We know better, anyhow. They’re just...intimidated by us, because we’ve honed skills here they couldn’t even dream of having. But nonetheless...” Kreese smirks in a way that makes Demetri feels ever-so-slightly unnerved. “If you run into one of your little peers whining to your parents about getting rid of us, well...show them Cobra Kai can’t be messed with so easily.”

And suddenly Demetri’s seething, because he knows exactly who made sure those phone calls got made.

Eli, for all his timidness, is notoriously smart. Demetri knows this intimately. He’d hardly put it past Eli to be this cunning, to manipulate the pitying adults around him to get what he wants.

When the Cobra Kai kids take a trip to the mall later that day, Demetri knows exactly where Eli will be. Every Wednesday, a new issue of Dungeon Lord comes out--they used to go get it together, but since getting into karate, Demetri hasn’t been keeping up. Demetri would figure someone like Eli wouldn’t have the balls to go out in public alone, if not for the fact that he knew how invested Eli was in the current plot.

And so Demetri heads to the comic book store, a group of reluctant Cobra Kai “pledges” in tow. Maybe it’s a bit sadistic, but he likes having someone to be able to boss around--it feels nice to be at the top of the food chain for once. Lord knows it’s the first time that’s happened. And if he isn’t going to milk that tournament win for all it’s worth, then what even is the point?

When Demetri arrives, Eli turns to look at him in confusion. “What are you doing here?” he says, lip curling slightly. “I figured you were too tough for this kind of stuff now.”

Demetri just scoffs and crosses his arms. “Well, Mr. Kreese said the dojo’s been getting some calls from weepy parents concerned we’re bullying their poor kids. Saying our Senseis must be some evil, abusive monsters twisting and corrupting the neighborhood teenagers. So I think you know exactly why I’m here.”

Eli just looks at him with a doe-eyed innocence that makes his blood boil. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Demetri advances on him, eyes flashing. “Don’t bullshit me, Eli. I know you’ve been meddling.”

To his surprise, Eli looks up to meet his gaze evenly, pretense of naiveté completely gone. “And what if I have? I don’t like the influence they’re having on you.”

Well, Demetri doesn’t know what that’s supposed to mean, but he doesn’t like it. “What is it about Cobra Kai that’s got you in such a tiffy, huh? You’re jealous I found a way to fight back and actually protect us? You don’t like that I’m not a pathetic loser you can look down your nose at anymore?”

Eli just looks at him in bewilderment. “Jesus, no, that’s not it at all, dude. Just...do you even hear yourself? You’ve turned into such an asshole since you started all that karate shit. It’s like I don’t even know you anymore. You walk around thinking you’re hot shit and everyone has to bow down to you all because your dojo won some stupid tournament. Well, news flash, Demetri--nobody cares.”

The callous way Eli, of all people, says it can’t help but throw him off. Is that really what his best friend thinks about him now--that he’s just some arrogant prick strutting around flaunting his success?

And then Demetri remembers how he got here--what it was that pushed him to be such a hard-assed fighter in the first place--and he feels a wave of venom coarse through him so powerful that he nearly chokes on it. Before he knows it he’s grabbing Eli by the shoulders and shoving him up against the wall.

“You fucking ungrateful brat,” he spits out, his words poison. “I did it all for you, you know. Everything I did was so that I could finally protect you. And this is how you thank me? After I’ve been getting my ass kicked over and over again so you wouldn’t have to worry about bullies anymore?”

Eli is surprisingly unfazed. “And where was I when you were learning to be such a good protector, Demetri? Getting shit on as a tool to motivate you? Nobody bothering to check how I felt about that? A real good bodyguard you turned out to be.”

“And yet Kyler and his little posse haven’t bothered you once. Who do you think that’s thanks to?”

“Miguel too. You don’t get all the credit. And anyhow, not like it matters when your Senseis would just as soon take the same cheap shots.”

Demetri just curls his lip. “Don’t get mad at me because you were too weak to survive Cobra Kai. Because...what, a middle-aged karate teacher hurt your feelings? I’d like to see how you go about taking a real fist to the jaw.”

Demetri raises a fist as if to demonstrate. Eli flinches, anger and defiance suddenly completely gone as his eyes widen in horror.

“You’d actually hurt me?” he asks softly.

Demetri slowly lowers his fist, realizing the answer as soon as he sees the terrified look in his friend’s eyes.

“Consider this your warning, Eli,” he spits out, with as much venom as he can manage. “Don’t mess around with Cobra Kai, or things are going to get ugly.” He smirks--a little sadistically, he has to admit. “You saw the tournament. Well...you’d better believe that’s the least of what I can do.”

When a downtrodden Eli shows up at Daniel LaRusso’s front door, timidly requesting to learn karate, far be it from Daniel to turn away a new student. Eli’s sob story about how he’s being bullied and threatened by his best friend only makes the new sensei more determined to take him under his wing--Daniel is no stranger to bullying, after all.

The next time Cobra Kai goes on an outing to the mall, Demetri catches Eli in the food court, eating with Samantha LaRusso and that kid whose ass he kicked at the tournament--Robby Keene, was his name? Mr. Lawrence’s kid. This seems...odd. How would Eli have met them?

An unexpected wave of jealousy rips through him. How did shy little Eli manage to make other friends? Let alone with an ex popular girl, of all people. Nonetheless, he figures this might be a good time to make sure his ex-friend isn’t trying to start any more shit with Cobra Kai.

He catches Eli in the deli line, sliding up behind him and purring, “Oh, I hope you haven’t been poking your nose where it doesn’t belong, have you, Eli?”

Eli turns and glares at him with a venom Demetri didn’t know the other boy had in him. “Why, Demetri? Scared your precious Cobra Kai is going to lose all its coolness cred if it gets out how shitty you all are?”

Demetri seethes with anger again, and before he knows it, he’s shoving Eli out of the line and ramming him up against one of the pillars on the edge of the food court. The crowd of eaters around them “Oooooh”s, but Demetri ignores them. He raises a fist again, fully prepared to follow through this time. “I’d watch your mouth, if I were you.”

Eli just curls his lip, more defiant than Demetri’s ever seen him. “You don’t scare me, Demetri. I know who you really are.”

The Cobra Kai pledges start to loom behind them, ready to provide Demetri with backup if needed. Eli notices and scoffs. “Wow, siccing your goons on me too? Way to set up a fair fight, Demetri. You’re so badass.”

Struck by a sudden desire to prove him wrong, Demetri socks Eli in the jaw before he can think better of it. He pauses afterwards, momentarily shaken by what he’s done.

To his dismay, Eli’s horrified shock is short lived before he laughs darkly. “Well, you’re not the only one who knows karate now. I joined Miyagi-Do.”

Demetri just scoffs. Ah yes, a little karate training and Eli, of all people, is going to kick some major ass. “All right then. Let’s see what you got.” He takes a step back, allowing Eli to try and get a hit in.

When the fight breaks out in full force, it’s vicious. Eli throws the first hit, but it’s weak--he’s out of practice since abandoning Cobra Kai. Demetri has him on the ground in seconds, throwing punches and kicks with a speed and rage he had no idea he had. Eli barely has time to get up before he’s getting his ass handed to him.

What Demetri doesn’t count on is Eli’s new dojomates coming to his rescue, getting the smaller boy behind them and executing a near-perfect synchronized fighting routine. Even with his lackeys helping him, Demetri is completely annihilated--nearly unconscious on the food court floor within minutes. The last thing he sees before he passes out is Eli staring down at him, blue eyes wide with horror.

When word of the incident at the mall gets back to Moon, shit hits the fan--to put it lightly. Yasmine is with Moon when she confronts Demetri, but she doesn’t say anything--just stands glaring with her arms crossed while Moon goes off at him. “How could you treat Eli like that? He’s your friend!”

“Not anymore.” Demetri curls his lip. “He joined Miyagi-Do. He’s made it pretty clear where his loyalties lie now, and it’s not with me.”

“Who cares about Miyagi-Do?” She retorts. “He’s still your friend! Our friend! And I don’t like the way you’re bullying him.”

Demetri scoffs. “Don’t you get it? He’s just a pathetic nerd who can’t handle the fact that I’m cooler than him now. All he wants to do is drag me down to his level again, I guarantee it.”

Moon’s gaze is more poisonous than he’s ever seen it. She turns to Yasmine. “Tell him, Yas,” she says, her tone dangerously quiet.

Yasmine sighs. She says--with notable hesitation, Demetri notices--“If you don’t stop bullying Eli, we’re through.”

Thrown off, Demetri laughs harshly. “What do you care? You don’t even like Eli! I see those...disgusted looks you shoot in his direction, when you think we won’t notice.”

Yasmine bites her lip. “That doesn’t matter. Moon is my best friend. If she’s not okay with this whole...thing, then neither am I.”

“You’re not fucking serious. You’re dumping me because your bleeding-hearted friend told you I wasn’t being nice enough to a guy you can’t stand?”

Yasmine pauses, but ultimately stands her ground. “I’m sorry, but if it’s between you and Moon, it’s going to be Moon. So her word goes. So either stop with this whole stupid feud with Eli, or we’re finished.”

“I...” Demetri can only stare at her, shocked. He never could have imagined getting this ultimatum...and yet here he is.

He must have hesitated a second too long, because Moon grabs Yasmine’s arm and starts to pull her away. “I think that’s all the answer we need,” Moon hisses.

“Wait!” he called helplessly after them. Yasmine turns around once as she walks away, but only to spit “It’s over!” over her shoulder. As if for good measure.

Kreese finds Demetri circling a punching bag in the back of the dojo, spinning around it and throwing kicks and punches faster than cobra strikes. Seizing his opportunity, he advances. “What’s wrong, son?”

Demetri turns, tensing. He’s still wary of the man, but to hell with it--it’s not like he has anyone else to talk to. “Fight broke out with Miyagi-Do, and we lost. Pathetic, I know. Please don’t rub it in.”

“Cheer up.” Kreese smirks. “The fight isn’t over until you say it is.”

Demetri just sighs. “No use going in for a rematch. They’re strong. I couldn’t take them again on my own.”

Kreese’s smirk widens. “You’re a smart kid. There are other ways to fight back, you know. You don’t always have to beat them into the ground.”

As he leaves, Demetri lets that sink in.

Well, Demetri is nothing if not tech-savvy. May as well make some use of that Yelp Elite status. He spends hours setting up dozens of sock puppet accounts, programming them to post terrible review after terrible review blasting everything he can think of about Miyagi-Do. The encouragement of violence in youth (Eli had technically punched first, hadn’t he?). The weak, subpar fighting style that broke down as soon as it was challenged by serious fighters. The pretentious, culture-appropriating sensei. Daniel LaRacist indeed.

During the Coyote Creek excursion, Demetri finds himself pitted against Miguel, fighting in the world’s most intense game of what essentially boils down to Capture the Flag. Demetri, about to get the better of Miguel, finds that he can’t help but gloat about his little online attack. Can’t be long before a one-star dojo goes out of business.

When Miguel seems to take issue with it, saying the whole thing is mean-spirited and over the top, Demetri can’t help but scoff. Miyagi-Do has been plenty clear in declaring war--their little battalion at the mall proved that. Demetri wishes Miguel wasn’t still too caught up in pining over Sam LaRusso to realize that.

Miguel, meanwhile, decides this dojo war of sorts is getting out of hand. It turns out Demetri isn’t the only tech-savvy student in Cobra Kai--Miguel designed their website, after all. With a little bit of basic internet coding and some rudimentary hacking, he manages to access the sock puppet accounts Demetri made and take the bad reviews down. He even goes so far as to go over to the Miyagi-Do dojo and personally apologize for how Cobra Kai has been acting, telling Robby Keene that he found out who blasted the bad reviews and took them all down. “We’re not all assholes.”

Come Moon’s end-of-summer party, Demetri is surprised to get an invitation. He hasn’t seen her or Yasmine since they both chewed him out, and Yasmine ended things. But perhaps this is a show of good faith. Maybe Moon wants to be friends again--and maybe that means Yasmine’s come to her senses too, and might be willing to talk things out.

Moon welcomes him when he arrives, previous animosity gone for the moment. “Hey, thank you for inviting me. I’m...sorry,” he starts. “Of how we left things off. I was an ass to you and Yas.” “It’s alright,” Moon replies cheerily. “I invited you because...well, I’m hoping that before school starts, we can stop all the fighting and be friends again.”

His heart sinks as he sees Sam LaRusso lead a stream of kids through the door, Eli trailing at the end, and he realizes exactly what she means. The Miyagi-Dos are here.

He sits forlornly on a couch with Mitch and Aisha, thinking about how much worse this night just got. He brightens, however, when he sees a shock of blonde hair at the door not long after. So Yasmine came after all.

Moon grins in delight, calling over to her. Taking a breath, Demetri stands up and approaches the two girls, determined to smooth things over with them both.

He’s not surprised to see Yasmine make a beeline for Moon, not noticing him for the moment. What he isn’t expecting is for Moon to sweep Yasmine into her arms, kissing her full on the mouth.

Demetri stops in his tracks. The girls turn to him a few seconds later, seeming to notice him for the first time. They look at him expectantly, as though waiting for him to finish walking over to them. Or say something, and not just stand there gawking stupidly.

“Uh...are you two...um...like...uh...” All he can do is shuffle closer and gesture abstractly, not able to find words. Yasmine blushes and looks away, while Moon tucks a hair behind her ear, her smile strained.

“Yeah. It’s new,” she admits, laughing nervously. “We’re, um...”

“Girlfriends?” Yasmine offers, looking up and smiling at Moon with uncharacteristic shyness. Demetri can’t help but bristle--shyness she never showed him.

Well, far be it from him to be judgmental. Even if Yasmine broke his damn heart just now, Moon is still his friend. He gives them a strained smile. “That’s...that’s great! Happy for you two. No shame in uh...trying out something like that.”

Demetri excuses himself and sulks back to the now-empty couch, mind racing as he sits down. Is that why Moon was trying to encourage Yasmine to break up with him? Was it even about Eli at all? Did Moon just want Yasmine for herself? It seemed unlike Moon, but who could say?

And Yasmine...had she always wanted Moon, too? Is that why she seethed every time she saw Eli shooting lovestruck glances at her friend?

...had she even ever liked Demetri at all, or was he just a cover-up for the fact that she was...lesbian? How was someone as feminine and fashionable as Yasmine a lesbian, anyways? All the lesbians Demetri saw on tv cut their hair boyishly short and had about 5 nose rings and walked around in leather jackets and combat boots.

His thoughts are interrupted by the last sweatered boy he wants to see taking a seat at the other side of the couch, glancing nervously at him with darting eyes. What did Eli want? And why was he so nervous? He’d been unduly bold as of late.

“You seen the new Doctor Who trailer?” Eli mutters.

Something about the nonchalant way he says it--like this is the olden days, when Demetri always felt like shit about himself and had no one who tolerated him but Eli--makes Demetri’s blood boil. He scoffs. “I have better things to do than watch nerd crap like that.”

A short silence. “Capaldi regenerated,” Eli offers finally. “I know you weren’t big on 12.”

No more Capaldi? Demetri turns to look at Eli, interest suddenly piqued.

“What’s the new doctor like?” he asks before he can stop himself.

Eli grins. “She’s a badass.”

“She?” Demetri finds himself grinning back. “How progressive of them. Welcome to the 21st century, Doctor Who.”

A sudden giggling catches his attention, and Demetri looks to where Yasmine and Moon are sharing a chair across the room, tangled up in each other’s arms and trading soft kisses like they don’t have a care in the world. He tenses.

Eli seems to sense his discomfort, and sighs. “Hey, I’m sorry, man. If it helps at all, I liked Moon a lot, too.”

Demetri just scoffs. “Yeah, but I guess it doesn’t matter now. They just have to be gay, right?”

Eli gives him a strange look. Demetri shuffles uncomfortably, realizing what he’s probably thinking about. The...incident, 4 years ago. Demetri glares at him, hoping to banish the thought before it arrives. None of that meant anything--they were just dumb kids. Dumb kids doing dumb shit that didn’t matter.

“I don’t know, I mean...if they’re happy together, shouldn’t we just be happy for them?”

Eli reaches out and squeezes his shoulder, and Demetri hesitates. Their special touch. Eli still remembers, even after everything that’s happened.

For a moment he’s overcome with longing, wishing things with Eli could just go back to how they used to be. Back when he knew no matter what hell he went through at school, Eli would always be there to pick him back up again. But then it sinks in what Eli’s really trying to say.

Be happy for them. What a bunch of Miyagi-Do bullshit. Just accept his sad little lot in life, just like he used to do. Go back to nerdy little Eli at the bottom of the food chain, doomed to spend the rest of his youth admiring pretty girls from a vast distance.

He never wants that to be him again.

“Oh, fuck you, Eli,” he spits, grabbing Eli’s hand and yanking it off of his shoulder. Eli freezes, looking like he’s just been slapped.

“What, so I’m supposed to do like you, moping and pining and hoping a pretty girl will look my way if I wish hard enough and just sucking it up when she doesn’t? Well, I’ve had plenty enough of that--I’ve been on the top. And I’m going to be on the top again. But you? You’ll always be pathetic--you and your entire sorry excuse for a dojo.”

He gets up and walks away, bristling with an anger he can’t even fully place anymore.

As Eli watches Demetri go, he realizes he’s finally had enough. Demetri doesn’t want to patch things up? He just wants to keep being an arrogant shithead? Fine. But Eli’s not about to take his prodding and insults anymore.

Eli makes his way over to Moon--still his friend, despite the unreciprocated feelings--and Yasmine, strikes up a conversation with them. Yasmine, he notices, is being notably nicer to him--probably at Moon’s request. They get to talking about sexualities, and Eli accidentally lets a little something slip about Demetri.

When they were 12 years old, they had kissed. It was Eli who suggested they practiced kissing, to get ready for all the girls they would inevitably date. However, a bit of choice wording and it sounded like Demetri had planted one on Eli out of nowhere...and Eli, of course, hadn’t liked it one bit, because he was totally straight. “You can’t tell anyone, though,” he pleaded the girls, big sad eyes every bit as convincing as he had hoped. “Demetri doesn’t want it to get out that he’s...you know. Gay. He’s worried it’ll ruin his reputation.”

Moon nods sincerely, but Eli can tell from the almost imperceptible smirk on Yasmine’s face that she has other plans. If there’s one thing he’s learned about Demetri’s ex over the last few months, it’s that even trying to be a better person, she can’t resist a good bit of juicy gossip.

And from what Eli gathers...two girls dating? No problem, as long as they’re hot and popular. At least creepy guys can fetishize it. But guys liking other guys? Now that...Eli has a feeling that won’t go over well.

As soon as Eli excuses himself, Yasmine gets to work. A few whispers at the snack table when Moon isn’t looking, and news of Demetri’s supposed orientation spread like wildfire.

Demetri, meanwhile, is determined to prove Eli wrong. So what if Yas doesn’t want him anymore (or never did, the mean voice in his head keeps prodding)? He’ll find another hot girl to have on his arm. He’s a top Cobra Kai fighter, after all--it’s not like it’ll be difficult.

He saunters over to a group of girls, leaning up against the wall in what he thinks has to be a very suave way. “Hey ladies,” he says. “Name’s Demetri. I’m sure you’ve heard about me--seasoned Cobra Kai fighter, finalist in the All-Valley tournament. But no need to be intimidated--if any of you beautiful ladies ever need a hand with anything, I’ll--”

“Take it off of the nearest dick to help us out?” one of the girls cuts him off. They all break out in snickers. “No thanks.”

Demetri freezes. Why would they think...?

Then he realizes there’s only one person who could have made them think he was into that sort of thing.

He tenses. “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but--”

“We’ve heard all we need to,” another girl says, eyeing him up in disgust. “Not interested in getting it on with someone who’s probably had his cock up another guy’s ass, to be blunt. Gross.” Before Demetri can say another word, the girls are gone, turning and slinking hurriedly off into the crowd.

Every time Demetri tries his luck with another girl, he gets similar rebuffs. And every time, he seethes a little more. Fucking figured--timid little Eli couldn’t take the fact that Demetri had worked up the confidence to win over a girl and he hadn’t, so he had to ruin Demetri’s chances with every other girl so he’d feel better.

Besides, Demetri remembers that day from 4 years ago. He remembers that Eli was just as into...all the stuff they did.

Unfortunately, before Demetri has a chance to go over and confront Eli about the whole business, the cops show up. He’ll just have to wait until school, he figures.

Meanwhile, word gets back to Sam that Miguel showed up at her door, apologizing and promising he took all the bad reviews down--apparently Robby didn’t relay any of this to her. When Miguel admits to Demetri about the drunken kiss, Demetri chuckles, slapping him on the back. “My man! Trying to build up a whole harem here, are we?”

Miguel sighs, looking sullen. “I cheated, dude. That’s shitty.”

And then comes the PA announcement. Tory Nichols is starting shit, and Demetri can’t pretend he’s not intrigued to see where this goes.

As soon as the fight breaks out, Demetri is overcome with adrenaline. He whips through the crowd, spinning and throwing kicks and punches like explosive flashes. All he can think of is Eli, Eli, little Eli...oh, when he finds him, there’s going to be hell to pay.

And it doesn’t take long--of course Eli is the one who tries to pull a teacher in to stop the fight. The fucking wimp.

When Eli makes a run for it, Demetri can’t help but smirk when he leads him straight to the computer lab. How very typical, for someone whose hero is Steve Jobs. He grins, something frighteningly sadistic bubbling up inside of him.

For a second it almost scares him, how badly he wants to drive his foot into Eli’s chest.

“Little Eli Moskowitz!” he taunts, before he can stop himself. “Cowering away in the computer lab, just like the little nerd he is. Can’t hide forever, outer. I know damn well what you told them about me.”

He tries door after door, continuing in a singsong voice as he goes. “Oh dear me, what would they say if they knew you enjoyed it too, Eli? Well, I guess they won’t believe me now. But I know. I know you’re no better than me.”

Ever since they were kids, Demetri has been the speedier one. They used to race across the playground at recess, pretending to be Quicksilver and the Flash, but Demetri always came out ahead. Long, gangly legs tended to do that. So when Eli turns to see Demetri in the doorway, and he makes a run for it, he doesn’t get far.

Demetri grabs Eli around the waist and throws him against the wall, whipping kicks and hits into his stomach and thighs faster than he can block. Demetri hardly notices the bruises forming, or the bleeding cuts.

It’s then that Eli does something Demetri doesn’t expect--flips the script, as it were. As Demetri reaches out to strike again, Eli surges forward and grabs him by the shoulders, flipping him around and pinning him against the wall. Maybe Miyagi-Do specializes in defense, but they still taught him how to throw a good hit or two. He throws defense to the wayside and starts raining punches down on Demetri--sloppy, uncoordinated, but something the “Strike First” Cobra Kai student is entirely unprepared to defend.

When his chest is stinging and his head throbbing, Demetri can’t take anymore. Eli was a lot more...well, powerful than he expected. At his first opportunity, he turns and books it. Maybe this isn’t a fight he can win after all.

Eli doesn’t chase. As angry as he still is at Demetri, he can’t stop thinking about the mars and bruises and cuts that appeared across Demetri’s face and skin as he punched him, mirroring his own, and he feels sick. He can’t hurt Demetri anymore, no matter what Demetri thinks of him now.

Demetri just makes it to the staircase when he sees Miguel motionless on the floor, Robby Keene looking over the railing. Sam LaRusson hovering over him. He runs to Miguel’s side, world crumbling around him.

Turns out he showed mercy, just like Mr. Lawrence always said to. And look where it got him. When John Kreese offers him a place in a new Cobra Kai, determined to make the Miyagi-Dos pay for hurting Miguel, Demetri isn’t about to say no.

In his grief, it seems like the only option.

Season 3

On the first day back at school, Mitch is quick to remind Demetri that there are other girls in the world besides Yasmine. Surely it won’t be too hard to work his charms on some of the freshmen--after all, word about that little incident with Eli when they were 12 can’t have gotten across the entire school, can it?

“Well, hello, ladies!” he purrs to a passing group, leaning against the wall in the most nonchalant way possible. “Welcome to West Valley High. I know freshman year can be intimidating, high school classes and new people and all, but if you ever need help with anything, I’m--”

“--the scrawny little gay kid who ran his pussy ass away from the world’s easiest fight?” one of the girls finishes scornfully. “Yeah, we know.”

As they walk away, he notices one shoot a flirty smile at a passing Eli, surrounded by his squad of Miyagi-Do losers. “Ooooh, you’re famous now, E!” he hears Chris say, and his blood boils all over again.

Ah. So everyone knew about Eli’s little triumph.

Mitch saunters over, and Demetri follows his lead. “Got something to say?!” he snaps.

Demetri’s eyes lock with Eli’s, and he glowers down at him. Eli’s face is tight, expression almost...sad.

Not like he’d expect anything less from that little crybaby.

“Oh, little Eli,” he chides. “I’d like to see you try and hide behind security.”

“I don’t need to,” Eli mutters, not breaking eye contact.

“Everything all right here?”

At the sound of the counselor’s voice, Eli does something unexpectedly bold. He sidles up to Demetri’s side and presses into it, throwing an arm around his shoulder. “No, Counselor Blatt, we’re all friends here!” he says, offering that shy little Eli smile that made every adult in a nearby vicinity go mad with protectiveness.

Eli’s arm is tight around his neck--like a chokehold. But, Demetri notices after a few moments, it’s shaking--the grip almost frantic. Like he’s scared of when he’ll have to let go.

Odd.

Demetri turns, and his and Eli’s eyes lock. He tries to give the shorter boy the most intense, seething glare he can under his forced smile, but Eli returns the look with equal intensity. Demetri jostles his backpack his backpack and thumps him on the chest, feeling an odd compulsion to touch his old friend right back.

Maybe he missed feeling Eli’s body underneath him. But that wasn’t a thought he could afford to spend a lot of brainpower on right now. “Yeah!” he says. Of course we’re still friends! Of course you didn’t fuck up my love life and humiliate me to the entire school because you couldn’t handle the fact that I was getting some and you weren’t!

When the counselor chides them about having somewhere to be, Eli just nods, murmuring, “Yeah, of course, Counselor Blatt. Sorry.”

As Eli pulls away, he pats Demetri’s shoulder a couple times. Small, almost imperceptible, but there.

Demetri can’t tell if it’s serious--if Eli still cares--or if it’s just a cruel mockery of their old touch. He’s not sure he wants to know.

When Demetri runs into Samantha LaRusso in the hospital and she insists she wants to help, he hardly expects a whole fucking fundraiser gleefully using Miguel as their poster child. As though the Miyagi-Dos weren’t the ones who put him in the hospital in the first place. When he catches a glimpse of the carwash while driving Mitch to practice, he decides he’s going to do something about it.

Beating up the kid is an easy fight, getting the money with Mitch and the others a sinch. Maybe at some point he would’ve felt bad for this--pummeling some short kid and then taking his charity money. But all he can think of is Miguel, his best friend, lying in a white gown and hooked up to wires. Because of this kid and his stupid “peaceful” dojo.

Peaceful, Demetri’s ass.

When Demetri walks into the cafeteria the following Monday, he’s not sure what he expects to see at Yasmine and Moon’s table, the place where he would be sitting, under different circumstances--but it definitely is not Eli Moskowitz with his hair dyed bright blue and spiked up. Miyagi-Do blue. Apparently all that coolness cred he felt he got from “scaring” Demetri off in the school brawl has gotten to his head, and he’s playing out his new “badassery” up to 11. He’s showing something to Yasmine and Moon, and they’re smiling and giggling. Yasmine, of all people, is smiling at nerdy little Eli’s antics.

Demetri squints, and sees that Eli’s showing the two girls a comic book--he recognizes the copy. It’s Eli’s limited edition Captain Marvel comic book, signed by Kelly Sue DeConnick herself. Demetri remembers standing in line with him at a con to get it a few years back--he’s pretty protective of the thing.

And now he’s using it to impress girls? Because apparently Yasmine and Moon are into that kind of thing? Oh, but of course Yasmine couldn’t be into nerd shit when DEMETRI was dating her, could she?

And those gooey eyes Moon is giving Eli, her little giggles--Demetri doesn’t like them one bit. What, now Eli’s worth her affections--now that his “nerdiness” is cool? Aren’t she and Yasmine a stupid item, anyways?

Deciding he’s going to put a stop to this, Demetri saunters over, lunch tray clutched so hard his knuckles are turning white. Before the group can react to his presence, Demetri picks up his chocolate milk carton and dumps it all over Eli’s stupid blue hair, making sure to get plenty on the rare comic book in front of him.

“Oh, I hope that wasn’t important, was it Eli?” he taunts, voice thick with mock sympathy. “That sure would be a shame.”

Eli turns to look at him, eyes wide with heartbroken shock. For a moment, the anger doesn’t set in.

“I had to wait in line 5 hours to get that,” he says quietly. “You know that.”

“Sure do.” Demetri smirks. “And it took all of 5 seconds to completely ruin. How tragic.”

Eli tenses, eyes darting around for a couple seconds. Demetri starts to walk away, his point made, when he feels an iron grip on his wrist. He turns to see Eli smirking at him, clutching his arm with more force than he ever thought possible from the once-timid boy.

“Careful there, Demetri,” Eli sneers. “Coming all the way across the cafeteria to bother me when you’ve got your cool Cobra Kai friends to hang out with? People might think you’re a little...obsessed with me.” Yasmine and Moon snicker, and Demetri bristles as he realizes the implication.

“Although I shouldn’t be surprised since you love obsessing over other boys, don’t you?” Eli goes on, like his point isn’t clear enough. “Y’know, I feel bad for Yasmine. I mean, any idiot could tell she used you as a beard, but I had no idea it was a mutual thing.”

Demetri tenses, willing himself not to lose his cool. “Really letting that little victory get to your head, aren’t you, Eli? Honestly, I was going easy on you. Now I know not to next time.”

It’s at that moment that Sam LaRusso decides to show up, sliding up next to Eli and glowering up at Demetri. “There won’t be a next time if I have anything to say about it,” she retorts.

Demetri can’t help but scoff. Of course Sam LaRusso would be all too eager to defend her little pet nerd now, even though she was all too happy to laugh at him with her mean girl friends a year ago. “I’m not scared of you,” he says. “Like you’d start any fight daddy couldn’t bail you out of. Or that doesn’t end with your ex boyfriend getting thrown over a railing because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.”

It’s a low blow, but Demetri doesn’t care. It’s hard not to look at this girl and see part of the reason Miguel might never be able to walk again.

Sam LaRusso shoves him just as the godawful counselor is sauntering over, but to hell with it--maybe Demetri could spin this to his advantage.

“She hit me, Counselor Blatt!” he cries out, pointing at Sam. “Attacked and physically assaulted me, completely unprovoked!”

“That’s not true,” Eli mumbles, eyes darting. Flawlessly slipping back into the poor little Eli role in a way that never fails to make Demetri seethe. “It wasn’t unprovoked. He started all this by destroying my limited-edition comic book for no reason.”

Demetri puts on his most convincing remorseful face and sighs. “Look, that was an accident. I just tripped while I was walking and my milk spilled. Anyhow, if your book’s that valuable, you probably shouldn’t bring it into a school cafeteria where people are more than likely going to spill food on it.”

He’d like to see the dumb counselor argue with that.

“Look, I don’t want excuses. I just want you all to respect each other.”

“Oh, absolutely.” Demetri turns to give Eli a forced smile. “Nothing but 100% respect in this environment going forward, I assure you. Sorry if we caused any problems.”

Please, just anything to make her leave.

With one last warning to Sam LaRusso, the counselor is gone. Demetri turns to the two Miyagi-Dos and smirks.

“To hell with respect,” he sneers. “Your lot hardly deserve it.”

It doesn’t surprise Demetri when Eli and his little gang of Miyagi-Do losers decide to start shit in gym class. What he isn’t expecting is for Eli and his stupid blue hair to start running next to him--right after he’s tried and failed to catch Yasmine’s attention after scoring a goal.

He’s been thinking about her all morning--was Eli right about her? Did she only use him as a cover-up?

...would no one ever want to date him for him?

Well, maybe if he won Yasmine back, he could disprove that. If Moon was going to be hanging off of Eli’s arm before too long, chances were her and Yasmine’s relationship’s days were numbered.

Whatever Eli is about to say, Demetri can already tell it’s not going to help.

And it doesn’t. “Wow, Demetri. Few guys are so bad in a relationship that they manage to turn their girlfriend gay. I hope you feel accomplished.”

Demetri balls his fists. “Say that again. I dare you.”

“You really did have a good thing going with her,” Eli sighed, voice laced with condescending pity. “It’s a shame she decided she could do better than some belligerent Cobra Kai douchebag.”

And then suddenly Eli lunges for him and tackles him, knocking him to the ground just as easily as Demetri once did to Eli at the mall.

Not that it ended up mattering all that much--Demetri was able to talk the Cobra Kai’s way out of trouble in the principal’s office, just as he so often could. Nonetheless, it seemed Eli was hardly turning out to be as much of a pushover as he thought.

When Mitch and the guys invited Demetri to go to Golf N Stuff--fuck around for a bit, cause some mayhem--he wasn’t about to say no. The thrill took over, running around, snatching tickets and prizes away, throwing them in the trash--he almost felt as powerful as Kyler must have, all those months ago when he tossed the lesser kids’ backpacks in the garbage. Is this how it felt, to be on top? To have everyone else too scared to mess with you?

Because Demetri loved it.

What he wasn’t counting on was Sam LaRusso and her little posse arriving to confront them in the laser tag arena--including Eli, face hardened and ready to fight.

Things seemed to be going pretty poorly--that was, until Tory Nichols and the backup arrived. That reduced Sam LaRusso to a sniveling mess, and finally it looked like this would be an easy finish.

Demetri found himself only stalling for a second when the way cleared for him to go at Eli. Something about the sudden terror on the other boy’s face made him hesitate, but not for long. Eli threw a weak punch, and Demetri quickly flipped him onto the ground, pulling his arm up behind him.

“No, please, stop, Deme, stop! It’s me!”

Deme...

Eli’s old nickname for him.

Demetri pauses, and suddenly he feels sick. Deme...Eli’s nickname. Eli.

Wasn’t all of this for Eli? To protect Eli?

And now here he was, about to hurt him. The one thing he swore he was going to stop everyone else from doing.

And then comes the goading cries from Tory, Mitch, and the others. Do it! Finish him! He deserves it!

He deserves it.

And then Demetri remembers what happened to Miguel when he didn’t take his chance to finish the fight with Robby Keene. Suddenly Demetri’s running out of the end of a hallway again, seeing Miguel’s motionless body lying on the stairs, and the rage and horror and mind-numbing devastation hit him all over again.

“Demetri, finish him!”

In a split second, Demetri makes his decision. Eli’s arm snaps in half.

All it takes is one terrible, pained scream from Eli for Demetri’s entire world to come crashing down on him. What the fuck did he just do?

He can’t even hear the other Cobras, gleefully congratulating him and sneering at the “pussy” on the floor. All he can hear are Eli’s pained sobs.

He’d seen Eli cry before, but never like this. Never thanks to him.

When everyone congratulates him next practice, Demetri barely hears. He’s just numb. All he can see is Eli, curled up and crying on the dirty cement floor. When Tory tells him she didn’t think he was going to do it, all he can manage out is that Miyagi-Do had it coming for hurting Miguel.

And as if his week can’t get any worse, here come Kyler and his goons sauntering into the dojo like they own the damn place. Demetri does his best to convince Mr. Kreese this is by no means a wise idea, but the sensei will not hear of it.

When Kyler and Brucks realize who he is, it only makes Demetri more livid. “Oh shit, it’s the yogurt backpack kid! Lip’s little friend! I thought he moved away!” When a fighting ring is formed, giving the new recruits a chance to “earn their spot,” Demetri is all too ready for combat.

He’s horrified at how quickly Brucks takes down Mitch, how quickly his friend is ushered out the door. It was bad enough to see Bert go, but this...this is different.

He can’t remember the last time he’s felt more alone.

When Kyler steps forward, looking for an opponent, Demetri volunteers before anyone else can. Mr. Kreese shoots him a surprised look, but he doesn’t care. This fucko has been making his life hell for years--he can already tell this is going to be therapeutic.

Demetri doesn’t hold back. The fight has barely started before Kyler’s had enough. A few fast hits and his lip’s already bloody, and he’s backing away. “No...please stop...”

And suddenly Demetri’s back in the library, on that afternoon that seems like an eternity ago, watching Kyler grip Eli by the throat. Hearing him sneer “who would ever want to kiss THAT shit?” like Eli was the most disgusting thing he’d ever seen. Feeling absolutely powerless, hand clutching the back of a chair as he burned with rage that had nowhere to go.

Well, he wasn’t powerless now.

And before he knows it Demetri has Kyler pinned to the ground, landing punch after punch to his face. Because, he realizes, at the end of the day, who gives a fuck if Eli’s on the other side?

That’s still his Eli, even after everything. The same Eli he stood by for over 10 years, the same Eli who he wished so long that he could protect from everything, the same Eli who felt like he had to constantly hide a tiny red line on his face because his peers collectively decided--for no good reason at all--that it was ugly.

And maybe he couldn’t make those people hurt the way he wanted to then, but right now...well, he could hurt at least one. And that was enough.

He doesn’t stop until Kyler is practically pulverized and his hands are drenched in blood. After throwing his last punch, he smirks, leaning down to whisper into Kyler’s ear.

“Now who’d want to kiss THAT shit? That’s right, asshole--I remember.”

Demetri kicks Kyler’s limp form as he walks away. He shoots Brucks a glare as he falls back in line--just for good measure.

When Miguel comes back to school, Demetri’s one of the first to greet him at the door. “Cobra Kai’s still going strong! It’s going to be great to have you back!” He’s a little confused as to why Miguel seems so hesitant, but he doesn’t worry too much about it--they can sort through all that later.

Miguel’s certainly taken aback by the clunky cast he sees on Eli’s arm when he runs into him in the hall--but perhaps even moreso by the fact that he has both shamelessly dyed his hair blue and spiked it up in a mohawk and is currently walking the school hallways with Moon on his (unbroken) arm. As it turns out, once word got back to Moon that Yasmine was the one who had shamelessly whispered around the school about Demetri being gay, she had broken things off with her. And, with his new “coolness” upgrade, she’d taken quite a liking to Eli.

Not like she had any way of knowing he’d been planning on Yasmine’s cruel gossip, after all.

But the cast, Miguel quickly learns, has a much darker backstory than anything he could have expected.

He wastes no time confronting Demetri about it in the lunchroom. “I heard what happened with Eli. How could you do that?”

Demetri’s stomach clutches. He scowls, determined not to show his discomfort.

“Wow!” He scoffs. “We go to all the trouble of getting payback on those assholes for getting you thrown over that railing, and this is the thanks we get?”

Miguel shakes his head, horrified. “Dude, who cares what dojo Eli’s in? He’s our friend! And in any case, it’s not his fault what happened to me. What the hell were you thinking?”

I don’t know. I don’t know. Demetri’s face hardens. He can only imagine how angry Mr. Kreese would be with him if he caught him showing any kind of weakness. Any kind of second-guessing.

But he can’t help it. Glimpsing Eli in that cast for the first time...

“Look, the Miyagi-Dos were the ones who picked a fight with us,” Demetri retorts. “We just had to do what we had to so they’d back off and leave us alone. We had to finish the fight.”

Miguel pauses, looking pained. “This isn’t...this isn’t you, Demetri. You’re letting Kreese get in your head. He’s trying to manipulate you, get you to...obsess over revenge so you’ll hurt people. But I know you, and I know you don’t want to. Eli, or anyone else.”

Demetri clenches his fists. “What would you know about how I feel about Eli?”

“Look, I can’t claim I know what’s going on between you two,” Miguel amends. “But you have to believe me--Kreese is dangerous. He’s using you. He doesn’t care about you, Demetri. Just...come to Sensei Lawrence’s new dojo. Please. Things can be like they used to. You don’t have to be in this...this war.”

This gives Demetri pause. “He...made a new dojo?”

Okay, so he’s still not Mr. Lawrence’s biggest fan--the man is an asshole at the best of times. But to be able to train with Miguel again...to be able to be badass without being expected to be some soldier...

He can’t finish speaking before Brucks’s voice rings out through the cafeteria. “Look everyone, Lip’s got a dick in his hand!”

Demetri looks up to see Eli being held by the cast, eyes darting around as the entire cafeteria bursts into laughter. Involuntarily, Demetri bristles.

And there it is again, that feeling of being the helpless kid in the library as Eli’s taunted. And even after all this time...he still hates it.

Miguel turns to him, shaking his head. “So these are your friends now? I thought you were better than that.”

And just like that, Miguel’s gone. Gone from the Cobra Kai table, gone from Demetri’s life.

It makes him wonder if he’s making a huge mistake. But he knows he can’t back out now--not when he’s this far in. Who would even want to take him back? Probably not Miguel and Mr. Lawrence--despite what Miguel said, Demetri knows there’s no way he’s going to forgive him so easily for hurting their other friend. And certainly not Eli.

What makes it even worse is seeing Eli later that day, curled up against some lockers with Moon. Moon is tracing over his cast in colored sharpie, slowly transforming the dick pic into a beautiful landscape and night sky. Eli is bragging about how the arm-breaking didn’t hurt that bad.

Demetri remembers when that soft little smile was reserved only for him, and a pit starts to form in his stomach.

Well, no use bitching. You did this to yourself.

It seems like the world is out to just make Demetri’s existence in Cobra Kai as shitty as possible these days. Mitch and Bert are gone, Miguel isn’t coming back, Brucks is being a royal douchebag like always, and perhaps worst of all, Robby Keene shows up at the dojo. Demetri tries his damndest to appeal to Mr. Kreese about how outrageous this is--this is the kid who paralyzed Miguel in the fucking first place, what’s the point of dojo-wide revenge if they just take in the main culprit like an old buddy? But of course Mr. Kreese spouts some nonsense about how they need all the help they can get for the All-Valley, and sometimes you have to be allies with people you aren’t the biggest fans of, blah blah blah. To make matters worse, Tory--not a friend exactly, but probably the closest thing Demetri’s got to one left--is getting far too chummy with Robby for Demetri’s taste.

Maybe Demetri’s insane, but it seems like more and more ridiculous shit is being handwaved in the name of...what? Winning a karate tournament? Getting revenge for a kid who’s already recovered, and doesn’t even seem to want it?

When word gets back to Cobra Kai that Miyagi-Do and Eagle Fang are teaming up, Kreese sends the students on a special mission: Show the other dojos that even with their combined forces, they’re no match for Cobra Kai. It seems like a waste of time to Demetri--why antagonize other dojos just minding their business? It’s not like there was anything worth fighting for in this dumb war anymore, considering Miguel was on his feet again (literally AND figuratively). Nonetheless, Demetri finds he’s itching for a good fight--it’s been way too long since he’s charged into a full-fledged battle.

Maybe this will help him get it out of his system, if nothing else.

When the fight breaks out at the LaRussos, it doesn’t take long for Demetri to be overtaken by the thrill of it. Just like he was at the school fight. Just like he was at the tournament. He’s zipping through the house, landing kicks and punches left and right. And it feels good. With everything having been so awful lately, he can’t remember the last time he’s felt more alive.

And then he lands a fierce kick, and Brucks chest-bumps him. “Hell yeah! kick some ass! Dumb losers never had a chance.”

Brucks. The same kid who laughed when he saw Eli starting to cry about the comments he made on his lip. The same kid claiming Kyler tossing his backpack into a yogurt-filled trash can was “brute.” And now here he was trying to be buddy-buddy with him.

Everything comes crashing down on Demetri at once.

Miguel’s speech, saying Kreese is manipulating him. Saying Kreese doesn’t care about him. Kreese cherry-picking what does and doesn’t count as vengeance--hurting Eli, someone who had nothing to do with Miguel’s fall, does, but teaming up with the kid responsible for said fall apparently does not. Demetri’s friends being booted from Cobra Kai one by one, just for not being strong enough.

The sound of Eli’s screams and sobs in a dark laser tag room.

Miguel was right, wasn’t he? Kreese never cared about getting payback for him. He only cared about starting a war for his own sadistic pleasures.

Demetri hears grunting and whimpering, and he looks up to see two of the other Cobras kneeing Eli in the chest over and over. Pinning him into an arm bar.

“Yo, ‘Mete!” one calls out. “Free shot!”

Eli looks up, gaze full of fear and pain. Bright blue irises glinting with welling tears.

Once upon a time, Demetri made a promise to himself that he would stick with karate, aggravating as it may be, so he would never have to see that look on Eli’s face again. It’s time, he figures, that he finally made good on that.

His face contorts into a snarl, and he runs to Eli. Eli closes his eyes and scrunches his face, bracing for a pain that never comes.

Demetri kicks one Cobra to the wayside and smashes the other into a glass table with perhaps more force and adrenaline than he’s used all night.

When he turns to Eli, the other boy backs away, eyes still wide with terror. Demetri feels sick to his stomach, and the tears come before he can stop them.

“God, Eli, I’m so sorry,” he splutters. “I’m so fucking sorry, for everything. I don’t know what I was thinking, and it was all so fucked up, and--”

“Demetri.”

“--I’ll never hurt you like that again, but if you don’t want anything to do with me now, I totally understand, and--”

“Demetri.”

“--I was so awful to you, and I didn’t listen to you, and I should’ve been there for you, and I’m such a piece of shit friend and--”

“DEMETRI!”

Finally Eli raises his voice enough that Demetri pauses. “...yeah, Eli?”

“Please stop talking. I forgive you. Now are you going to shut up and help me finish this?” He raises a hand, as if to initiate their old handshake. An olive branch.

Demetri grins so wide he thinks his face is going to break, and he grips Eli’s hand like a lifeline. Something to finally pull him out of the darkness. “Yeah.”

They’re a lethal fighting team. Between Demetri landing speedy hits and Eli protecting him and shielding them both with his bulked-up form (where did he get all that muscle? Demetri wonders), they dispatch half the Cobras in minutes. Whatever rush Demetri was feeling fighting when he first got here is nothing compared to fighting with Eli.

When they stop the fight between Tory and Sam, Tory wastes no time voicing her disdain for the ex-Cobras. “You’d better watch your back,” she spits at Demetri, and he feels a chill run through him. Turns out this girl is terrifying when she’s not fighting on your side.

Eli intercepts her as she leaves, staring her down defiantly in a very un-Eli-like manner. “You’d better watch yours,” he growls. “Touch him, and I’ll end you.”

Demetri glances over in surprise. When did Eli get so bold?

Well...he thinks he could grow to like it.

Season 4 (because fuck it)

Demetri is hardly expecting Mr. LaRusso and Mr. Lawrence to forgive him, never mind let him into their new dojo. But life has a lot of pleasant surprises in store for him, it seems, after the shitshow it recently put him through. It’s also possible Eli (and maybe Miguel too) but in a good word for him.

Demetri can’t stop apologizing to Eli. Seemingly every day, he finds a new thing to apologize for. Eli gets aggravated with it before long, having to reassure Demetri at least 50 separate times that he forgives him for everything. Nonetheless, Demetri refuses to stop--because he’ll never stop being sorry.

Or trying to find new ways to make it up to Eli. Going easy on him during sparring. Buying him lunch after practice. Helping him perfect some of the most badass Cobra moves.

Things end between Eli and Moon. Eli can’t fully elaborate on why--he just tells Demetri something didn’t feel quite right. The spark died out, like Demetri’s adrenaline rush slowly seeping away toward the end of a fight. That, and, Demetri gathers, something seems to have been distracting Eli from his girlfriend as of late.

Most likely the approaching, high stakes All-Valley. Karate is Serious Business, as they’ve both embraced now.

Rumor has it Yasmine and Moon are trying again, Yasmine realizing for seemingly the first time how awful she’s really been and making an effort to be better. Moon makes her want to be better--more than Demetri ever did, he realizes. And maybe that’s okay--he and Yasmine probably just weren’t right for each other.

Then one day, after yet another one of Demetri’s long-winded apologies, Eli offers something other than an exasperated. “It’s okay. Seriously.” There’s a pause before Eli quietly says “I’m sorry too.”

“For what?” Demetri blurts out, baffled. Everything Eli’s done has paled in comparison to his own atrocities.

“For outing you,” Eli says simply. “That was fucked. And it wasn’t my place, even if I was mad at you.”

“It’s all right.” Demetri shrugs. “You were right, anyways.”

Eli gives him a strange look. “I was?”

“Yeah, I mean...” Demetri laughs dryly. “I don’t...like girls. I pretended I did, because I felt like I was supposed to. That’s what people expect you to do when you’re a top athlete and all that. But dating Yasmine, chasing other girls, it always felt...empty. Like I was just acting out a role in a play or something. And at the end of the day, I think...” He pauses. “I think I was always looking at you.”

Because the last few months have made him realize something. Training with Eli, teaching Eli how to protect himself, watching Eli step up and defend him from the mistrusting stares and the scornful whispers...

Just how much of the person he’s become is thanks to wanting to protect Eli. The fact that that was always how all this started.

“I love you,” he blurts out, before he can stop himself. “I know I did a shitty job of showing it, and I know you were with Moon and you’re not like that, but I need you to know, and I understand if you don’t feel--”

Eli cuts him off with a fierce kiss, pinning him up against the dojo wall with unexpected aggressiveness.

When Eli pulls away, he’s smiling softly. The same smile he gave Moon in the hall as she drew on his cast--the smile that’s once again all Demetri’s.

“I love you too,” he murmurs. “Why do you think I broke up with Moon? Every time I was with her...I couldn’t stop wishing it was you. She’ll never know me like you do.”

And Kreese had better look out because Miyagi Fang’s next big power couple is a force to be reckoned with--the snarky, frighteningly fast-attacking ex-Cobra, and the buff, blue-mohawked Miyagi-Do with more inner peace than anyone would expect.

SOME RANDOM SIDENOTES ABOUT THIS BECAUSE I DIDN’T FEEL LIKE PUTTING THIS ALL IN THE TAGS

~I’m sorry if anyone is OOC in this--I know Johnny is kind of a fuck, but he genuinely WAS pretty crappy to Eli at first and who knows if he would’ve treated him any better if he didn’t “flip the script”??? ~Dark/Evil Demetri is so fun but also so awful to write--I hope you like him being an absolute fuck because the Corruption Arc is REAL ~Yes, I DO in fact fully believe Demetri would go on a crazed revenge quest just like Eli/Hawk did out of his grief for Miguel--the boy absolutely loves Miguel and arguably would want vengeance as much as Eli if their roles were swapped!!! Because Demetri cares about Miguel SO FUCKING MUCH even if it’s not as obvious as it is with Eli but that’s a rant for another post ~I included YasMoon because fuck it, I thought it’d be interesting. That and, unlike the Cobra Kai writers, I am not at all afraid of what conservative audiences will say, so I am not afraid to make things as gay as possible. ~There’s a good chance I swapped Kyler and Brucks’ places near the end solely so I could have Demetri beat the fuck out of Kyler because I just really need that ~Yes, even without formally becoming “Hawk,” Eli could learn how to be a conniving manipulative little shit if he wanted to be. Look at some of the shit he pulls with the counselor in canon Season 3!!! Boy sure as hell knows how to play the victim. ~Honestly not sure if being outed as gay is better or worse than being outed as a bed-wetter, but I had to think of something that would pack the same kind of emotional punch. In Eli’s feeble defense, the West Valley High kids don’t seem like the types to be like...especially violent against queer kids (otherwise NO WAY would Moon and Piper have been able to be that open about their relationship), they’d just be assholes about it. So Eli wasn’t putting Demetri in legit danger here so much as just opening him up to a lot of ridicule. Which is still fucked, but hey, I DID warn you this would be kind of fucked up XD ~Maybe short, concise apologies work for Eli, bUT NOT FOR DEMETRI THE RAMBLER ~Dark Demetri chasing Eli through the school like a goddamn serial killer = 10/10 gave myself a big Spook writing ~Yes, Eli does still have (and always had) his “Hawk” traits, even without the formal “transformation.” I just think his “Hawk” side would be a little more subtle and subdued if he were in Miyagi-Do, but it’s still there for sure.

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samanthadalton · 4 years ago

Text

Star crossed lovers part 7 (au)

pairings: poppy x mc (bea)

warnings: throughout this fic there will be mentions of substance abuse, homophobia, sexual abuse, violence, NSFW, mentions of abandonment, depression and death including suicide

reader discretion is advised

taglist: @somewillwin @cloud9in @save-me-the-last-dance @baexpoppy @stanzoeywade @ognenniyvolk @thepotatobleh @crazzyplays @rxssians @helpconfusedpersonhere @dopeyouth @boys-girls-i-cant-help-it-baby @clowneryme (if you wanna be added on let me know)

word count: 5.2k (my longest chapter yet)

if there’s any mistakes i’ll fix it later bc its like 5am here

part 1: part 2: part 3: part 4: part 5: part 6:

Birthday Bash

“Bea.”

Poppy stares at the brunette, wide-eyed, her knuckles turning white as she firmly grips on the doorknob, but she doesn’t let go. She definitely wasn’t planning on seeing her girlfriend tonight, and judging by the haunted expression on Bea’s face, neither was she.

“Hey,” is all Bea can squeak out, lips slightly quivering, her eyes a bloodshot red as if she’s been crying for days. Poppy quickly peaks her head out of the doorway, analysing her surroundings, looking for any traces of anyone's presence before clutching onto Bea’s arm and dragging her into the foyer.

“What happened?” Poppy’s voice is soft, timid, her brows furrowed as she takes in Bea’s demeanour. As the lights shine on Bea, Poppy can see her girlfriend’s features more clearly, her cheeks glisten with dried tear stains, while her hair looks like a bush, most likely from Bea running her hand through hair constantly, a habit she does when she’s upset or angry.

As if right on cue, Bea runs a hand through her hair, her expression distressed.“ Is it safe to talk here?” Bea’s tone’s insecure as she gazes into the strawberry blonde’s eyes for the first time tonight, and Poppy notices the sad glint in her eyes. It takes all of Poppy’s strength to not break down in tears just by looking at her girlfriend.

Poppy clears her throat, blinking away the tears, “uh yeah, my dad’s not home. Come let’s go to my room.” Poppy contemplates holding Bea’s hand as she sees it fitted closely to the brunette’s side, but reminds herself how volatile things are between her and Bea so she walks ahead of Bea and not looking behind her until she reaches her room. She opens the door and lets Bea into the room, making a beeline for her bed, sitting at the edge while Bea hovers near the door frame, nervously fidgeting as if it’s her first time in the strawberry blonde’s room, her eyes wearily glancing around the room.

“You can sit if you want” Poppy pats the space near her and Bea gives her a small smile as Bea gives a small nod of appreciation and meanders over to her bed and settles down, leaving a wide gap between herself and Poppy. As the girls look over at each other, familiarity slowly begins to wash over them as the memories that they spent together in the room come flooding into their minds; the late nights, the sneaking out, the kisses, the cuddles, the I love yous. It wasn’t that long ago where the girls were lying down in Poppy’s bed together discussing their future and senior year, but now as they’re in the same space everything has changed, and deep down inside they both know that.

Poppy gives Bea a warm smile, her eyes full of affection as she waits patiently for her girlfriend to speak first. Poppy knows firsthand to be submissive when Bea is in a mood, otherwise Bea will just close off and the girls won’t make any progress. After some deliberation, she tentatively reaches out, her hand slowly clasping around Bea’s, giving it a squeeze, a small gesture to reassure her girlfriend that she’s willing to wait. Bea smiles internally at Poppy’s action, but after the dispute between herself and her mother, it has been on a constant replay in her head, almost like a never ending nightmare which she can’t wake herself up from. The girls continue to sit in the silence as Bea tries to gain her bearings, her mind going a million miles a minute, but Bea fights against the flight instinct she has become accustomed to over the last couple of months taking a deep slowing breath before opening her mouth to speak.

“Thank you for letting me in.”

Poppy frowns, “you’re my girlfriend Bea, I would never turn you away.”

Bea glances down at the floor, “so why didn’t you want me at the hospital? Or why haven’t you answered my calls? Texts?” A guilty expression flashes across Poppy’s face, as she stutters, struggling to come up with a valid reason, instead she clamps her mouth shut, her lips pressed together in a thin line. Bea reaches out to take Poppy’s cast in both of her hands, her soft fingers delicately brushing against the rough plaster, a solemn look on her face. “When you fell I-” she abruptly cuts herself off as hot tears begin to stream down her face, she shifts her gaze away from Poppy, in an attempt to hide her face.

Poppy reaches out, cupping Bea’s face in her hands, her thumbs swiping the tears as she places her forehead against the brunettes, speaking softly against her lips, “Bea I know. I’m okay though.” The strawberry blonde’s voice begins to waver but she clears her throat, pushing away the lump in her throat, “I know I’ve been distant lately. Pushing you away and it isn’t fair. We need to stop avoiding this conversation.” Bea nods into Poppy’s hands, sniffling as she blinks away the last couple of tears forming in her eyes.

“You’re right.”

And so Bea tells Poppy everything; her unexpected visit from her dad, the argument with Isabella, the night she was almost mugged. Poppy stares intensely as Bea, quietly taking in the information, part of her feels like an idiot, like she’s being selfish. Crying over a broken arm while Bea’s life is completely falling apart. But another part of her feels hurt, hurt that Bea had been concealing all of this. Suppressing all her emotions to the point where Poppy almost blamed her for her fall.

She understands that her and Bea live in two completely different worlds. But would that be their downfall? Or would they be able to push through their differences and love each other unconditionally? Promise that they will never keep something from the other? Promise to love and commit to each other no matter the consequences?

Maybe Bea would be able to, but could Poppy? She has more to lose than Bea does, more at stake. But all those doubts perish when Bea gazes at the strawberry blonde, relief flashing across her face. She seems more at ease than when she first came in, like the weight has been lifted off her shoulders and Bea’s problems shouldn’t be her own burden, Poppy knew what she was getting herself into when she decided to be with Bea. No matter how much life threw at them nothing could take away the fact that they were soulmates, who were brought together to balance each other out.

“Pops?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Poppy moves in, she places a soft, long kiss on Bea’s forehead before fitting herself in Bea’s bigger frame, her arms wrapping around the brunette’s waist, while her head nuzzles into her neck. “You have nothing to apologise for Bea. If anything I should be sorry. I’ve been such a bitch, when I should’ve been there for you. I hate that we’ve come to this. Not being able to tell each other anything.”

Poppy hears Bea sharply inhale and lifts her head to look at her girlfriend, “Was there something else?”

One of Bea’s hands moves to stroke the strawberry blonde’s hair, she solemnly nods, “yes. Don’t be mad I didn’t say anything earlier because I would’ve but you were ignoring my calls.” Poppy pushes herself off her girlfriend studying Bea’s remorseful expression. “It’s about Carter.

“What about him? Did he do something to you?” Poppy brow’s furrow while Bea shakes her head.

“He approached me the night of the volleyball, the game where you fell.” her gaze drifts down to Poppy’s cast, “he knows about us.”

Poppy feels the blood rushing to her ears, as her heart thumps powerfully in her chest. ‘This isn’t supposed to happen, no one is supposed to know’ is all she can think, while her face pales and her eyes continuously blink, wondering if she’s heard Bea wrong. “What are you talking about?”

“I don’t know how Poppy but he swore he wouldn’t say anything,” Bea stammers.

Poppy feels anger flaring up in her body as her eyes shoot daggers at Bea, “what the fuck Bea. You know how many times Carter has been to my house in the last week? And this entire time he fucking knew?” Poppy wildly throws her arms around, face reddening by the second.

Bea feels anger exploding within her, her face scrunched up in a scowl and she starts yelling, “You were ignoring me. I called. I texted. You couldn’t be bothered to check up on your own girlfriend. So don’t you dare” she points an accusatory finger at Poppy, “blame me.”

Both girls glare at each other, anger reaching a boiling point, the sounds of their tiny quick breaths fill up the deafening silence in the room. Bea takes a step towards Poppy, who in retort takes a step forward too, and without hesitation both girls move in for the kiss, their tongues already tangled together as they fight for dominance. Bea grabs the Poppy by her hips, pulling her closer to her frame, as she angles her head downwards, pushing her tongue into Poppy’s mouth who responds with small moans, her mouth invitingly opening up, as her hands creep up around Bea’s neck, wrapping around it and pulling her down onto the bed. All the pent up anger, passion, the absence of intimacy is met in the kiss, the girls feeding off each other’s kisses not breaking apart for air, as if they can live off the very feeling they’re giving each other.

Soon the girls pull apart, their gaze fixated on one another, until they break into a fit of laughter, realising how ludicrous the entire situation is.

“I’m sorry for snapping. I guess I’m scared about people finding out about us.”

“Hey.” Bea cups Poppy’s face, her thumbs stroking her jawline as her eyes look intensely into Poppy’s brown doe eyes, “I would never let anything bad happen to you. Carter said himself, he’s not the enemy, he’s just an ass.” Poppy lets out an airy laugh, slightly shaking her head, while Bea returns a small smile, “I’m just glad we’re okay now, I missed you.” Bea leans down and places a chaste kiss on the strawberry blonde’s lips.

“I missed you too. From now on no more secrets okay? We need to make sure we are healthily communicating with each other because I hate fighting with you.”

“I know, I guess sometimes I just don’t want to burden you.”

“Bea, you’re my girlfriend, you could never be a burden to me.” The girls share a long look, one filled with affection and appreciation. “You gonna be okay going home? You can stay here if you want.”

Bea shakes her head, “your dad will be here soon and I don’t wanna risk it. It’ll be fine, I think.” Bea hesitantly adds.

‘Well, I’m here if you ever need a getaway. And I’m glad we’ve made up because there is no way in hell we are not going to celebrate your birthday.”

Bea lets out a loud groan, “Dammit it.”

“We are going to celebrate your birthday Bea Hughes, you are not getting out of this one so easily.”

….

In the following weeks, Bea and Poppy could not be in a better place, though their relationship was still a well kept secret from the students of Belvoire, or at least the majority of them, the girls back to being madly in love. Since cheer was not really an option for Poppy currently, she began investing into her role of head of the school newspaper more, while offering more hours to volunteer at her local animal shelter. Bea on the other hand was pouring herself into maintaining a healthy work/school balance. Her and Aria began a family night once a week, where her, Aria and Poppy and sometimes Veronica, Zoey and AJ would all get together and cook and play board games for a couple of hours. Although Bea and Poppy recently made up, they almost got into another fight after Bea put down a +4 in Uno and Poppy almost lost her shit. All the while, Poppy and Zoey were planning Bea’s birthday party. Bea was never too crazy about her birthday but after a lot of petitioning from Poppy, Veronica and Zoey she eventually agreed to a birthday party which would be hosted by Zoey.

….

Soon it’s time for Bea’s birthday and as soon as the brunette wakes up from her slumber she immediately goes onto her phone to see a bunch of birthday messages from all her friends. Poppy of course had wished Bea a happy birthday at exactly 12am and left her girlfriend a very long paragraph including all the reasons she loves her. Zoey leaves a drunken voice message, telling Bea that she’s starting the party early while Veronica gives a short and very mundane message just simply wishing Bea a happy birthday. Bea scrolls through the rest of the birthday wishes thanking everyone for the wishes until a pillow comes flying out of nowhere smashing into her face.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY BIG SIS!” Aria jumps onto Bea, giving her some very brutal birthday beats while also not forgetting to give one for luck. Once she’s done, she jumps off Bea’s bed laughing. Bea massages her arms tenderly, mentally planning her little sister’s demise until Aria brings out a small wrapped box from under her bed, holding it out to Bea.

“Aria you didn’t have to.”

“Shut up and just open it.”

Bea amusingly huffs as she carefully unwraps the bow on the box, before lifting the lid. She lets out a small gasp as tears begin to form in her eyes. “Oh my god Aria.” She endearingly stares at her sister before pulling her in for a massive bear hug, “this is the best present ever thank you.’

Aria returns the hug for a few moments until breathlessly cries out, “Bea, you’re crushing my lungs.” Bea instantly lets go, sympathetically rubbing her younger sister’s back,

“Sorry Aria, but this is perfect, how did you know?” She affectionately stares at the picture frame in her hand, beaming at the photo of a young Bea holding a baby Aria in her arms.

“Because you love that kind of stuff. Mom helped me with it.”

Bea visibly tenses, “she did huh?” Aria who is completely oblivious about the severity of the altercation between Bea and her mother, only thinking it was just a petty argument that resulted in them not being on speaking terms, merely nods and flounces to the bathroom to get ready.

After a birthday breakfast where Bea had to take over from Aria who can barely make a decent pancake batter, the girls sit in the living room reminiscing about the past, laughing at the past memories of one another. They’re interrupted by the sudden creaking of Isabella’s door who gingerly looks out of room before stalking towards the kitchen to fetch herself a glass of water. Bea pointedly avoids Isabella’s presence by directing her complete focus to her younger sister until Isabella’s low voice interrupts the conversation.

“Happy birthday Bea.”

Bea ignores her mother, clenching her jaw, furious at her mother’s attempt to simply sweep her previous proclamation about not wanting anything to do with her aside. “Hey Aria, why don’t we go to Zoey’s and then I’ll drop you off at your friend’s. We’ll even take my bike.”

Aria squeals hugging Bea tightly, “seriously? You’ll let me go on the bike?”

“Yeah, of course. Now go get your stuff I’ll wait here.” Aria rushes into her room while Bea reluctantly makes her way to the kitchen, where Isabella’s expression is downcast as her long nails tap against her glass. “Aria’s staying over at a friend’s tonight and I’ll be home late so I guess you have the house to yourself. Don’t trash it because remember who’s paying the bills in this house.” Bea turns away but Isabella latches onto her arm, her tone pleading.

“Please Bea. It’s been weeks.”

Bea aggressively shrugs her mom’s arm off hers before looking directly into her eyes, a fire blazing in them. “And? I meant what I said. No more handouts. You’re on your own. Tell Aria I’m waiting out front.” With that she walks off without a second thought or glance.

….

Bea’s birthday is soon in full blast, and as Bea walks into the back yard she can’t help but be in awe of Zoey and Poppy’s collaboration to make the party a hit. The fairy lights carefully placed around the trees, shine brightly, a stark contrast to the dark night sky. A arm slings around Bea’s shoulder pulling her close to the warm body, “Happy birthday bitch!” Zoey places a plastic crown on Bea’s head giving her best friend a kiss on the cheek. As looks up and down appraising Bea’s short red dress, “damn girl, 18 looking good on you already.”

“How are you already drunk? The party just started.”

“How are you not drunk yet? It’s your birthday, let loose a little.” Zoey grabs Bea’s hands doing a silly dance before Bea breaks apart her gaze serious.

“What’s wrong Zoey? I’ve known you long enough to know something’s up.”

Zoey sighs, slumping her shoulders, her expression dejected, “I asked Veronica if she wanted to come to this party together but she said no.”

“Aww Zo,” Bea pulls in Zoey for a hug. “I thought you guys really liked each other?” Zoey in retort lets out a bitter laugh.

“I guess it was just about sex for her. But fuck her. I don’t need her to have a good time.” She takes a huge swig of her beer, “besides, tonight is a celebration.” She downs the rest of her drink, exhaling sharply, “I’m gonna go grab another drink.” She makes her way to the drinks stand until Bea is tackled by a hug which almost sends her tumbling to the ground.

“Happy birthday baby.” Poppy gives Bea a huge kiss on her lips, and when the kiss breaks off, Bea licks her lips a little, tasting the cherry lip gloss from Poppy’s lips.

“Mmm, thank you,” she pulls Poppy in for another kiss until they’re interrupted by a loud cough.

“Umm I’m here.” Veronica lifts a hand up waving, while a huge wrapped box is fitted to her side, wrapped around her other hand. “Here, happy birthday.” She shoves the box into Bea’s hands who just looks at Veronica gratefully.

“Wow, thanks Veronica.” Veronica responds with a small hum as Bea begins ripping off the wrapping and then looks back up at Veronica wide-eyed. “Holy shit V, thank you. This is awesome.” She takes out the fresh biker helmet, staring at it in astonishment, a glossy black exterior, with white stripes painted all over it, brings a huge smile to Bea’s face and she gives Veronica a strong one armed hug.

“You’re welcome.” Veronica beams as she hugs Bea back, “See told you she’ll like it P.”

Poppy facetiously rolls her eyes, “fine you were right. But” she pulls Bea back to her side giving her girlfriend a quick peck on her lips, “my present is a million times better.”

“Well duh you’re her girlfriend.”

“Oh shush Lombardi, you’re just bitter that Zoey isn’t interested in you.” Bea furrows her eyebrows slightly at Veronica who just embarrassingly turns away. “Well let’s go get some drinks.”

Many of Bea’s friends from the south join the party including Razor who gets a stern (and slightly drunken) telling off from Poppy for giving Bea a knife. Poppy excuses herself to join Zoey and a bunch of others in a game of truth or dare which Bea respectfully declines. As the party carries on, Bea stands at the edge of the living room carefully sipping her beer as she looks around, the music infectiously blaring from the speakers as everyone begins to dance. AJ sidles up to Bea giving her a warm hug wishing her a happy birthday.

“I was wondering when you would show up.”

“My dad wanted me to stay for a family dinner since my aunt came over but said I could come to the party once it ended.”

Bea gives AJ a sincere pat on the back, “Well I’m glad you’re here. Have you spoken to Poppy yet?”

AJ sheepishly rubs his hand on his neck, a slight frown on his face, “not yet. I’ve been kinda avoiding her but I’ll speak to her and apologize for scaring her.”

“Alright, go and enjoy the party, I’m just gonna head out for some air.” AJ joins the fray as Bea heads out to the front yard staring at the night sky.

“I thought you’re supposed to celebrate on your birthday?”

Bea turns her head slightly to see a smirking Veronica making her way up to her and amusingly huffs, “I just needed some air. Sometimes the music gives me a headache.”

“Yeah, these parties can be a bit much. But they’re definitely better than the shitty parties from Belvoire’s most finest.”

“I’ve never been to a Belvoire party before.”

Veronica exapgreentlying gasps, holding a hand to her chest, “who would’ve thought, Belvoire’s most hated has never been to a Belvoire party,” her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Bea smirks but her eyes look lost in thought until she looks over at the ombre-haired girl, curiosity in her eyes, “so what happened with you and Zoey, I thought you guys liked each other?”

Veronica clicks her tongue, her expression contemplating, “she just wasn’t what I wanted.”

“Oh so there’s someone else?” Bea raises an eyebrow at Veronica who just whole-heartedly rolls her eyes in retort.

“Maybe. But I don’t know if they want me like that.”

“Why not? You’re a great girl. I’m sure you would make them very happy.”

Veronica shakes her head slightly, throwing her head back to stare at the sky, “well, I don’t want to ruin what they already have, it seems” her brows knit together as she ponders what word to use, “solid.”

“Well you’ll find someone I’m sure. I mean I’m grateful for Poppy, I don’t know where I would be without her.”

“Yeah, she’s pretty great isn’t she?”

“Yeah. She is.” Bea smiles, her eyes twinkling as she thinks about her girlfriend. She shakes out of daze and smiles back at Veronica, “thanks again for the bike helmet.”

“It’s fine Bea. I know how much you love the thing. I just thought you should look cooler while riding it.” Veronica turns to Bea, her expression pondering, “Why do you love motorcycles so much?”

“Wait.. have you never ridden on a motorcycle before?” Veronica shakes her head. “Oh my god, it’s the best feeling ever, the wind blowing in your face, the speed. It feels like freedom I guess.”

“Huh. That’s nice I guess.”

“You guess? No I won’t have that. Come on.” She grabs one of Veronica’s hands steering her towards her bike that’s parked outside the house. “We’re going for a ride now.”

“Uhhh are you sober enough for that?” Veronica raises an eyebrow at Bea, “I don’t wanna end up on the news for being the influencer who died while riding on a motorcycle with someone under the influence of alcohol.”

Bea lets out a guffaw, holding her stomach, “I barely drank anything tonight. Trust me, you’re in good hands.” Veronica gives Bea a nod of okay, “uhh wait, let me tell Poppy we’re going for a ride, I’ll be right back.” She leaves Veronica on the sidewalk making her way into the house in pursuit of her girlfriend. She finds the strawberry blonde in the middle of the dancefloor, dancing her heart out to the music, drunkenly singing along to the words. Bea comes from behind, pulling Poppy’s hips to hers, and leans down to whisper into her ear, “looks like you’re having a good time.” Poppy in response, reaches back, her hands entwining around Bea’s neck as she grinds against her hips.

“I have to admit, even though I had a hand in this party, Zoey really outdid herself.”

Bea twists Poppy around placing a kiss against her girlfriend’s lips, “i’m glad you’re having fun, you deserve it babe. Veronica is waiting outside for me though. She told me she’s never ridden on a motorcycle before so imma take her for a ride on my bike okay? I’ll be back.”

“Okay.”

Poppy slightly freezes when she sees AJ enter the room, Bea follows her gaze, a solemn look on her face, “he wants to talk to you by the way. I think he wants to apologise.”

“Yeah I guess we should talk,” Poppy sobers up slightly as she releases Bea and stands a little taller, “I’ll catch you later okay, I still need to give you your present.”

“Okay,” Bea smiles down at her girlfriend before planting a chaste kiss on her lips, “let me know how it goes between you.”

Poppy nods and makes her way to AJ while Bea moves towards the front yard. When Poppy reaches AJ she gingerly taps him on the shoulder, AJ jumps from the sudden touch, spinning towards Poppy almost dropping his drink in the process.

“Gah! Sorry Poppy.” He drinks the contents of his cup before placing it on the counter and looks at the strawberry blonde. “So I’m guessing you spoke to Bea huh?”

“Yeah, we should go somewhere quieter and talk.” AJ follows Poppy out to the corner of the back yard, away from the rest of the partygoers. “So.”

“So.”

“I know Bea already spoke to you about the party and stuff but I guess I wanted to thank you.”

“Thank me?” AJ says surprised.

“Yeah. What you did was kinda dumb but your heart was in the right place.” AJ lets out a small laugh shaking his head slightly. “I’m just grateful you would protect me like that AJ.”

“Of course I would Poppy. You’re Bea’s girlfriend. And even if you weren’t you needed help. I hate when guys think they can do whatever they want to girls without facing the consequences.” There was a depth to AJ’s words, like he wasn’t just talking about that one ordeal, Poppy contemplated asking but AJ is just as fickle as Bea if not more, his behaviour and moods are often unpredictable so Poppy made a mental note to speak to Bea about it later.

“Well it was very brave of you AJ. I’m glad Bea has amazing friends like you.”

“Well you’re my friend too Poppy, and you deserve to have someone other than Bea to have your back.”

Poppy turns silent, absorbing AJ’s revelation, were any of her friends as diehard as Bea’s? Would they ever assist Poppy like how AJ did? Poppy begins wondering if her friends were truly her friends at all, as she looks over at AJ, the young sophomore goofily grinning back at her, and she can’t help but smile. AJ is family to her, how Bea is like an older sister to him means that Poppy is also a sister to him too, and family, look out for each other which is something she’s beginning to learn. She tugs AJ close to her, pulling him into a back-breaking hug as she sobs softly into his shoulder, “thank you AJ, for everything.”

AJ is too stunned to reply, so his hold around Poppy just tightens as the two just bask in the warmth of the embrace, content that they can rely on each other.

All the while, Bea takes Veronica out for a ride on her bike while wearing her new helmet which was graciously gifted by the ombre-haired girl herself.

“It looks good on you.”

“Thanks.” Bea swings her leg around the bike before settling on the seat, she nods her head towards Veronica, “so? Hop on.”

Veronica timidly ambles towards Bea’s bike and climbs behind the brunette as her legs brushes slightly against her hips.

“Hold on tight okay? We don’t want you falling off.” Bea says looking back, a widespread grin on her face. Veronica moves closer to Bea on the bike, her hands coming around to grip Bea’s stomach, “just a little tighter V.” Veronica squeezes her arms around Bea’s waist, “perfect. You ready?”

“Let’s go.”

Bea takes off on the bike, slowly at first but when she feels Veronica’s fingers beginning to relax around her waist, she begins to speed up, the wind breezing against her helmet while Veronica’s hair freely moves against the wind. The streetlights begin blurring as Bea increases the speed, the motorcycle going almost 50 miles an hour, and Veronica closes her eyes, relishing in the freedom Bea promised she would feel. They circle around the block a couple of times until it comes to a stop and Bea takes off her helmet shaking out her curly hair.

“Oh my god.”

“So? How was it?”

“It was fucking exhilirating. Holy fuck Bea. Maybe I should invest in a motorcycle.”

Bea lets out a laugh, “you definitely should, see I told you it’s amazing.”

“Yeah yeah you were right.” Veronica pulls out her phone and gasps, “shit Poppy texted like a hundred times, come on it’s time to cut your cake.”

The girls make their way to Zoey’s kitchen where everyone stands in a circle, eagerly and a few impatient, waiting to cut the cake.

“There she is!” Zoey screams as the rest of the party goers cheer and Poppy sidles to Bea’s side giving her a kiss on her cheek. Zoey lights the candles as the group of people break into singing happy birthday. Bea pauses before blowing out her candles, a fond look in her eyes as the candles are blown out and eventually the cake is distributed between everyone and Poppy and Bea settle on the couch with Veronica sitting next to Poppy while Zoey and AJ sit next to Bea all silently eating the cake.

“So how was the ride?” Poppy asks.

“Awesome. Veronica is now a motorcycle convert.” Bea jests and Veronica rolls her eyes slightly.

“Hey, I never had anything against motorcycles okay? I’ve just never been on one until tonight. But it was honestly life changing.’

The three girls break into a fit of giggles until Poppy reaches over, intertwining her fingers of her non broken hand, with Bea’s whispering in her ear. “Well I think it’s time for your present.” Bea gleams at Poppy as she allows herself to be pulled away from the couch but not before looking back and giving Zoey a sly smirk hinting at the fact Zoey and Veronica are now sitting next to each other.

Poppy pulls Bea into Zoey’s empty bedroom before pulling Bea into a long passionate kiss.

“Is this my present?” Bea grabs Poppy’s hips, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“That’s for later babe,” Poppy indulges in Bea’s desires for a few moments, allowing herself to get lost in Bea’s kiss as their tongues tangle together, eliciting a few soft moans from the strawberry blonde. Poppy pushes Bea slightly back, and rests her forehead against Bea’s, “stop distracting me, I gotta give you your present.”

Poppy brings out her phone and pulls out a picture of an empty apartment, showing the picture to Bea. Bea looks at the photo confused, raising a pointed eyebrow at her girlfriend. “Uhhh I don’t get it.”

“This is our apartment in New York. I put an early deposit on the place so it’s officially ours.”

read part 8 here

#playchoices #queen b #poppy min sinclair #poppy x mc #star crossed lovers

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dresupi · 4 years ago

Text

Be True - Fremione

for @that-wimpy-cowboy-doll Fred Weasley/Hermione Granger Rated T 2,402 words

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hermione, please,” Ron pleaded.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out again slowly before she could bear to respond to what was likely the very last thing she wanted to hear. It was Valentine’s Day, and for once, she wasn’t tied down to anyone. She was going to spend a night in watching movies with a friend.

True, a friend who she’d very much like to be more than a friend. A friend who made all of this so much more complicated than she’d wanted. It was also true that her ‘friend’ was her ex’s brother, but that was allowed. Especially when the ex had left her over a year ago, and her ‘friend’ had been there for her.

Her friend was Fred. Fred was the friend. The friend who she’d very much like to be more than a friend.

Merlin, how could she have thought this could ever happen without it being complicated?

She must have been temporarily addled because she could see now that there wasn’t any way this could work. If she dated Fred now, she’d hurt Ron.

Never mind that Ron had hurt her. Greatly. How dare he come back just when she was getting comfortable? When she’d dusted herself off and had come to terms with the long-standing crush she’d seemingly always had on Fred, and was almost ready to act on it?

“Ron, don’t do this,” she groaned.

“Why not, Mione? We belong together. I see that now.”

“You don’t see anything other than you’ve made your rounds and all the witches have your number and know you’re not the marrying kind. So you’ve circled back to me.”

Ron actually looked offended. “That’s what you think of me?” he asked, his voice rising at the end of the sentence to the point where it might have been comical if this conversation were about anything else.

“This is what you think of me?” she asked. “You think I’m this stupid, Ronald? You and I didn’t work. We didn’t. I see that now. You want a different life than I do.”

“But that’s the thing. I want to get married now,” he said. “I’m tired of coming home to an empty flat. I want you to be there. Waiting for me when I get home.” He reached for her hands, she kept them limp.

The sad thing was, he probably thought he was being sweet.

Hermione sighed again. “That’s just it. I don’t want to wait for you.” She tugged her hands from his. “I haven’t been for nearly a year and it’s been the best I’ve felt about myself. There is someone out there for you, Ron. Someone who will wait for you and will be happy to do it. I’m not that someone. Now come,” she placed both hands on his shoulders and steered him to the fireplace. “Go on back home and eat some ice cream. Watch some sad movies and get over this, because it’s not happening.”

“You-you’re rushing me out of here, aren’t you?” Ron stammered. “It’s Valentine’s Day. You’ve got a bloke coming over don’t you?”

“That doesn’t matter! You’ve had loads of women since we broke up, what gives you the right to be angry with me?” she asked, indignant at his lack of common sense.

He spluttered a bit, sounding a lot like the time her father’s car had stalled out, the engine made sounds similar to the ones Ron was making now.

“Besides, not that it matters, but he’s just a friend.”

Even she didn’t believe that.

“Just a friend who comes calling on Valentine’s Day? In your home?” Ron snorted derisively and Hermione scrambled to think of what she could say to convince him otherwise when at that precise and inopportune moment, the fireplace popped and fizzled. Fred stepped out amidst a green glow onto her living room carpet and reached up to brush the soot from his hair.

“Oh,” Ron wheezed out a combination sigh of relief and a laugh. “Here I was thinking you had a bloke, and it’s just Fred.” He patted Fred on the shoulder. “Had me going there for a second. Carry on, carry on. I’ll see you later, Mione.”

She set her jaw and sighed. “No you won’t, just go.”

Fred had something tucked up under his arm. But he sent it shrinking and into his pocket while he watched Ron go. He turned back to her, his eyes scanning her face quizzically. “You alright, Mione?”

She chuckled a little. “I am, not sure about him. He’s gone positively barmy.”

“What was that about?” he asked, tilting his head towards the fireplace.

“That was Ron leaving after literally begging me to take him back. He’s delusional,” she said, huffing out a sigh. “It figures he would have done just as I was coming to terms with everything. Bloody nutter, mucking about for a year and then begging me to take him back. That’s just like him, you know!” She grumbled under her breath for a moment before glancing over at Fred, who was staring at her like her hair had turned green and it was his fault. Like he was sorry for her or something. Which wasn’t the tone she’d intended at all. “I’m fine, I just need some tea.”

“I can get that,” Fred offered.

“No, no, I’ll do it the muggle way, I need the distraction for a moment,” she replied, turning to sulk off to the kitchen and curse Ronald Bilius Weasley under her breath the entire way.

“He’s my brother, you know,” Fred said suddenly from behind her, and Hermione was just about to collapse into so many apologies when he continued. “He’s my brother, and I know I”m supposed to love him and all, but he’s a dimwitted moron with dust for brains and I’m sorry he did this.”

Hermione closed her eyes and nodded. She ran water into the kettle and placed it on the stove. “It’s not your fault, Fred.”

It wasn’t. It wasn’t his fault that Ron had mucked up everything. That she now couldn’t rightly tell Fred what she wanted to tell him because it would hurt Ron and likely divide the Weasley family. And there was always the chance that Fred didn’t return her feelings at all. If she were to confess her feelings, she’d not only lose Fred, she’d likely cement her position as Weasley enemy number one. A wretched trollop who broke one brother’s heart while trying to get into another’s robes.

No, it wasn’t Fred’s fault at all. He hadn’t asked for any of it.

“I had a year to move on, I should have done when I had the chance,” she sighed.

“That’s codswallop, Mione.”

“What?”

“You can still move on. You don’t have to put everything on hold just because my idiot of a brother can’t make up his mind. You’ve made yours up, I can tell. Don’t lie to yourself out of some misplaced affection for him. He isn’t the only one who matters, you know. In fact, I’d say that when it comes to you, Ron shouldn’t matter at all.”

The kettle whistled and she quickly turned off the burner and poured the water over her tea, inhaling the aroma as the steam carried it to her nose.

“I suppose you’re right,” she acquiesced, vowing to change the subject. “What did you bring me?”

Fred’s eyebrows raised comically. “What makes you think I brought you anything, you daft witch?”

She fought back a grin. “I saw you hide it in your pocket when you stepped through the fireplace. What’d you bring me?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he teased, taking a seat at her kitchen table and forcing her to Accio whatever it was from his pockets.

Of course, when she did, she was forced to hold the shrunken down box in her hand for a long moment, glaring at Fred.

“What’s that look for? You’ve got the thing, haven’t you?” His eyes twinkled and while Hermione knew it was exactly what he was after, she glared all the harder. “Fine, fine. You’re so picky. You want your gift, but you want it life-size. How completely boring of you, Hermione.”

“That’s me,” she deadpanned. “Boring as sin.”

“See, to me, that means you’re not boring at all because sin isn’t very boring,” he argued, flicking his wand and muttering the counter-incantation to turn it back to life-size once more.

“That’s your opinion,” she countered, looking at the now right-size box in front of her. “What is it?”

“See, a normal witch would have torn it open by now. I’m not sure you understand how presents work, love.”

She rolled her eyes and pulled the lid off the box, only to stop short when she saw what was inside.

By all outward appearances, they looked to be salted cream caramels from a lovely little sweet shop near her parent’s home. But this was Fred, so they could really be anything.

“These won’t make me puke rainbows or anything, will they?”

Fred sighed heavily as if he were the one who was greatly put upon here. “They’re from your favourite sweet shop in Muggle London. I Muggled up to go there and buy them for you, and you ask me if they’re going to make you puke? Why would I make you puke on Valentine’s Day, Granger?”

“Because you’re you,” she countered, pointing at him in a very accusatory way.

“That’s a fair cop, but I wouldn’t do that on Valentine’s. Your birthday, perhaps, but not Valentine’s.” He placed one hand over his heart and one in the air. “Trickster’s honor, I didn’t meddle with them.”

“That’s exactly what a trickster would say if he did meddle with them.” She reached for one and sniffed it.

“Merlin’s beard, woman.” Fred yanked it out of her hand and popped it in his mouth, chewing. “Shall I eat them all, or do you believe me now?”

“There’s over fifty here. You’d be puking something if you ate all of them.”

“But not rainbows,” he replied, grabbing another from a different part of the box. After no rainbows, glitter, or fireworks issued from his mouth, she gingerly chose one of her own and ate it.

It was, of course, delicious. As illustrated by the groan that did issue from her mouth the second the decadent sweet touched her tongue. “Oh, I could eat myself sick on these,” she murmured.

“So you like them?” Fred asked.

“I do. But I’m afraid I didn’t get anything for you, didn’t know we were doing gifts.”

“I thought you were making me dinner,” he said with a shrug. “Not that I’m demanding it or anything.”

Hermione arched an eyebrow and flicked her wand to get things started. “As you wish, kind sir.”

Fred rolled his eyes. “Said I didn’t demand it.”

She shrugged and reached for another caramel. “Didn’t say you did.”

“Mione, um…” His tone had changed. It was lighter. Quieter. “You know that whatever you choose to do, I’ll support you, right? George and Ginny would too. No matter what any of us say to the contrary. Don’t feel you have to try to work things out with Ron. Or that you have to dump his arse to the curb either. We just want you to be happy.”

“Awfully nice of you to relay the message for all of you,” she said with a short laugh. She reached for another sweet, and Fred’s fingers closed around her hand. “I just want you to be happy, Hermione.”

Her skin burned where he touched her. And when she looked up into his eyes, it only got worse. Or better, whichever way one wished to look at it.

Hermione licked her lips and decided to call it better.

“Really?”

“Truly,” he insisted, running his thumb over the back of her hand before letting it go. She pushed up from her seat and grabbed for his lapels, pulling him back closer so she could kiss him.

He’d started talking just before her lips met his, so she pulled back. “What?”

“Table’s in the way,” he muttered, sending it sliding across the floor and pulling her into his arms. One wrapped around her waist, the other cupped her chin and tilted her amicably so he could kiss her properly.

A bit dramatic, but effective, nonetheless.

“I really, really hope these aren’t delayed puking sweets,” she mumbled.

“Hush you,” he replied, nuzzling her nose with his before finding her lips once more.

“What are we going to tell--”

“Can you just enjoy a moment without having to think it to death?”

“No,” she answered. “You know this about me.”

He sighed. “Merlin help me, I love that about you. Even if I’d rather just snog you silly instead.”

“Maybe we could just keep this quiet--”

“Nah,” he shook his head.

“What? Why?”

“I’ve been wanting this for a while now, Mione. I’m not going to keep it quiet because it might hurt ickle Ronnykins’ precious feelings. He’s a grown man who made many mistakes. Which worked out well for me, so…” He shrugged.

“Your mum--”

“Will be thrilled that you’ve both moved on from Ronald and are still dating one of her sons,” he assured her. “Best of both worlds for her, I’d wager. Now, if you’ve finished worrying about everyone else in the entire world…”

Hermione grinned. “Fine. Snog me silly.”

“Oh, I intend to.” She giggled and he kissed the tip of her nose before moving down to her lips. “Doing my job for me, I see.”

“I can’t help it, I’m too happy.”

“Good.”

He’d just started to move in again when she spoke.

“Do you think we should--”

He groaned. “Hermione.”

“Go in the other room?” she continued. “I’ve a rather comfortable sofa in there.”

He clasped her hand and tugged her along after him. “Fine, but no more interruptions.” He pulled out his wand and cast a warming charm on the dinner before they collapsed in a pile on the sofa.

He pulled her into his lap, lips brushing over her jaw and she raked both hands through his hair, catching and holding his gaze for a long moment.

“Get a good look?” he asked, cheeky to a fault.

“I might have done,” she whispered.

“Hermione, please kiss me.”

She didn’t have to be asked again.

#Fremione #Fred x Hermione #Hermione x Fred #Fred Weasley #Hermione Granger #Fred/Hermione #Hermione/Fred #sweetheart prompts #that wimpy cowboy doll #oneshotwednesday #orange #my writing

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novantinuum · 4 years ago

Text

Intake (SUF one-shot)

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: Teen Audiences (TW: brief discussion of mental illness related topics like suicide ideation and intrusive thoughts.)

Words: 2800

Summary: Steven fills out an important form.

This is set multiple months pre The Future, and is a small glimpse into Steven’s journey to find a therapist.

If you read this and enjoy, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos/comments on AO3 as well. AO3 link will be provided in the reblogs. Thank you! <3

____

His leg bounces with a restless fervor as he slumps in the waiting room chair, clutching the clipboard and pencil the receptionist gave him with a white knuckled grip. Gaze hardened, he takes a good long look at the other patients spread across the room, a few of them appearing equally as spent and fidgety as him, and hunches over the intake form so his answers will be conclusively obscured from their view.

He grimaces. Ugh. Why would a place like this lay out their chairs so close, anyways? Why even give people the option of being nosey? He may be stuck seeing this therapist Connie’s mom recommended because he’s all messed up in the head, but it’s not like he wants the whole planet to know about it. Goodness knows all of Beach City and Little Homeworld already does thanks to his little ‘incident’ a month back. That’s bad enough.

His chest almost feeling hollow as he sighs, he scrawls in his name, his birthday, his cell number, address, and an emergency contact (Dad, who left for the car to give him privacy after signing a few forms he can’t fill out as a minor) on the lines indicated. He leaves out his many middle names for once, all of them leaving a bitter taste in his mouth at this present moment. Briefly, he wonders if this will be a problem, as these past few weeks Dr. Maheswaran assisted his dad in finally acquiring legal documentation and health insurance for him, and per those records he’s officially ‘Steven Quartz Universe’ in the eyes of the law.

Eventually he shrugs, figuring the likelihood of there being another sixteen-year-old ‘Steven Universe’ here today to confuse him with is nearing zero.

Okay, what’s next?

He briefly skims over the next few passages— a bunch of legalese about the terms of counselor-patient confidentiality and when they might have to breach that for safety reasons— and signs where indicated so they know he looked over it.

Someone sitting two chairs away coughs. He can’t help but flinch at the sudden noise, and folds himself tighter in his own seat as he flips over the first page of the form and continues to read.

In a few words, explain why you’ve chosen to reach out to us today. How can we help you?

Steven frowns, fingers twitching around the shaft of the pencil as he contemplates how to respond. For whatever reason, the question “explain why you’re here” feels very blunt and antagonistic to him in a way he can’t quite ascertain. Like... in a “give the wrong answer, get booted right out the door” sorta way. He lifts his head, peering at all the humans spread across the room, each and every one with their own story, the central character of their own worlds. Some are texting on their phones as they wait for the receptionist to call their names, others are filling out forms as well. What brought these people here, he wonders? Surely there’s plenty of people having a worse time than him right now. Surely there’s people with real problems, people who are literally struggling just to stay alive from day-to-day. He’s not like that, right? Besides that one little wobble a month back, he’s been handling his problems on his own fairly okay. Hasn’t he? So what makes him selfish enough to think that he’s worth anyone’s time?

In his pocket his phone vibrates, knocking him back into reality. He yanks it out and switches it on to look at the new text splashed across the lock screen:

Dad: Hey Schtu-ball, just wanna let you know that I’m proud of you and love you very much. You’ve got this!

He stares at these words for a good minute, the kind sentiment— despite reading as a little hopelessly over-encouraging— filling the hollow space in his chest partway. Even if his dad’s been a bit overbearing in his affections this past month, it’s clear he means well.

So. Why am I here today, he thinks, reading the question over again. He folds his fingers up into a stiff fist, pulling his thumb across his knuckles. After licking his chapped lips and shoving his phone back in his pocket, he scribbles a hasty reply.

I feel really angry and empty and tense and just want to be better.

The teen pauses, allowing those words to echo over and over in his mind, to truly sink in. It’s such a succinct and to-the-point admission that he suddenly wonders why he ever doubted he was less deserving of aid than anyone else in this waiting room.

His countenance a little lighter now and his shoulders growing less stiff, he moves on to the next section.

To aid our counselors in providing you the best possible care, please rate the following statements on a scale from zero to four, zero meaning “not at all like me,” and four meaning “extremely like me.”

Steven’s eyes dart across the length of the massive table below these instructions, his previous anxiety rushing back into his brittle bones as if it’d never left. Each row is host to a short sentence and five blank boxes, numbered zero to four. Read it and rate yourself, right? Should be simple enough. But as his glance flits over these statements and he understands the sort of personal, probing questions they’re asking through them, he begins to mistrust his previous burst of optimism. Dread floods his system, making his cheeks flush bright pink. Heart pounding at the mere thought of people staring, he drops his head lower, successfully hiding most of his face behind the clipboard until he can coax that betraying glow into fading away.

In the end, this goes to prove that it doesn’t matter if everyone says therapy will be ‘helpful’ for him; reflecting on all this junk is still gonna suck.

Quietly, he takes a steadying breath and forces himself to read on, to crack open the hornet’s nest that is the depths of his crap brain.

1. I am shy around others.

He considers this for a moment. Shy. Historically, this has never been a word people would use to describe him. For years he reveled in the thrill of meeting new people, new Gems. His childhood eagerness to engage in fellowship with those around is half the reason Era 3 even exists. And he’s fine around people he knows. Like, on a rare good day he has no problem playing board games or watching cheesy soap operas with his friends. But to be fair... as of late, his eagerness to meet anyone new feels like it’s all but vanished. Is that being shy? Or is that just him failing to care for anyone beyond his inner circle?

With a small shrug he checks the box for one, and moves on.

2. I don’t enjoy being around people as much as I used to.

Hmm. Probably a three. People are unintentionally exhausting these days. He used to be energized by social interaction, and now it just leaves him sucked dry. Most days he’d rather stick to his room.

3. I feel isolated and alone.

The weight of the diamond embedded in his belly— something he normally barely notices— grows ever more apparent as he marks off a four.

4. My heart often races for no good reason.

Uh, yeah. What happened just a minute ago is a pretty good tell. Four.

5. I have spells of terror or panic.

Another four.

6. I am anxious that I might have a panic attack while in public.

Four once more. He holds his pencil tighter, squirming in his seat as he tries (and fails) not to think about the pale scars spread across his back, hidden in his hairline, and on the underside of his arms, indentations that once marked the base of the crystalline spines that jut out from between his scales.

7. I think about food more than I’d like to.

Steven pauses at this one. For once, he’s not sure he can say this statement applies to him. Truth be told, he only started caring about what he put in his mouth earlier this year, when he cut meat and fish out of his diet. And that’s not... a bad thing? It’s not bad to want to consider the impact your food choices have on the environment? He definitely didn’t choose to do so for self-denying reasons, and that’s probably what they’re asking about. He checks zero, and moves on.

8. I feel out of control when I eat.

He almost checks another zero, but then he remembers that day after the proposal... and the week after his incident. And he decides that even if he doesn’t consciously obsess over the food he eats, there’s still a few occasions where once he starts snacking he finds it difficult to stop. A one it is, then.

9. I have sleep difficulties.

This statement nearly makes him laugh. Does he have sleep difficulties. Hah. He doesn’t think he’s gotten a truly restful night of sleep since he sacrificed himself to Homeworld at fourteen.

A solid four. No question.

10. My thoughts are racing.

Four.

11. I feel uncomfortable around people I don’t know.

Hmm. Two.

12. I drink alcohol frequently.

The only alcohol he’s ever had is a tiny sip of his dad’s with permission at Garnet’s wedding reception, and it tasted terrible. He has no interest in drinking again. Zero.

13. When I drink alcohol I can’t remember what happened.

Zero.

14. I drink more than I should.

Zero again.

15. I have done something I have regretted because of drinking.

Another zero. It almost makes him feel better, just knowing there’s a decent number of lines on this paper that aren’t a carbon copy of his lived experience.

16. I feel sad all the time.

Aaaand back to “the story of his life.” Briefly, he wonders if ‘feeling sad’ is the same thing as feeling nothing at all. But then again, does the difference really matter? He checks the box for three.

17. I am concerned that other people don’t like me.

Three. Although honestly, he’s even more concerned that people continue to like him after everything he’s done.

18. I feel worthless.

Steven nibbles at the inside of his cheek as he reads this statement, memories automatically flashing through the pathetic events of the last few weeks, through all the days he barely crawled out from under his covers, all the days he didn’t even manage to brush his teeth or run his fingers through his greasy, knotted hair, all those awful days he couldn’t so much as play one of his video games without growing tired of it in minutes and taking a restless nap for the rest of the afternoon instead.

Four.

19. I feel helpless.

Two. Everyday affairs are a drag, but at the very least he knows he can fight his way out of danger in a pinch. He wouldn’t call that helpless.

20. I have thoughts of ending my life.

He freezes. Goes back, reads this line again. Reads it a third time to make sure he’s not horrendously misconstruing the prompt he’s been given.

(Tries not to think too deeply about the graphic images that flood his imagination some nights. It’s just stray thoughts, though. He’s fine.)

One, he marks, although his muscles can’t help but twitch as he shifts his wrist, as if deep down he knows he’s underplaying his answer.

21. I feel tense.

Steven gives a small snort under his breath. Yeah, he outright admitted as much earlier in this form. Four.

22. I get angry easily.

His grip tightens.

Four.

23. I have difficulty controlling my temper.

He swallows hard, his mouth feeling abnormally dry. He’s not sure he likes how blunt and probing this questionnaire is becoming.

Four...

24. I sometimes feel like breaking or smashing things.

His knuckles go white around his pencil, and he only barely resists the temptation to snap it in half as he feels a rush of hard light flow the distance from his gem through the veins of his arm. Geeze, it’s not like he means to break things! It’s just that all of his stupid powers are linked with his emotions, and whenever he gets even marginally upset now things start to splinter, crack in half, and inevitably end up broken. Just another sign he’s fated to ruin everything around him forever, and that his intent doesn’t matter. Why do they have to pry into this? He already feels terrible enough for thinking these things.

Three, he checks, his eyes damp, but mostly because he’s too scared what their response will be otherwise.

25. I am not able to concentrate as well as usual.

He takes a deep breath, coaxing his body to return to a baseline state. Eh. He’ll give this a two.

26. I feel self-conscious around others.

His glance skirts over the edge of the clipboard to monitor the four others currently spread out across the room. One’s rhythmically swinging their legs, another is still filling out a form like him, but sitting criss-cross on the chair, and the other two are quietly typing on their phones. Thankfully none of them are pressing an ounce of attention his way, (at least, not right now), but that doesn’t stop him from feeling like an exposed nerve. Three.

27. I am afraid I may lose control and act violently.

The raw memories hit like lightning before he can even think to prepare.

Flashes of Pink. Orange fragments, cold and slick in his palms. Thunder splits the skies overhead, each cacophonous sound manifesting in perfect synchronicity with his erratic heartbeat, with each tidal wave of thoughts gushing like a maelstrom through his head: SHATTERER, I’m a shatterer, I’m—

Feeling almost dizzy from the intensity of his heart’s pulse, he knows with full certainty that his cheeks are glowing bright pink again. All he can do is clench his fists, suck down whatever amount of fresh air his lungs will allow, and pray to the very stars themselves that it’ll fade away before it garners the attention of every last human in this place.

He checks the box for four, pencil marking so hard that slivers of graphite splinter off onto the page, and moves on before he can be cowardly enough to change his answer.

28. I have thoughts of hurting others.

His fingernails claw into the thin denim at his knee, limbs outright quivering as he stews in his seat, as he’s forced to reflect upon all the ugly, ugly thoughts that have flit across his awareness over the past weeks. Thoughts about one Gem specifically. He’s... always been angry, always harbored deep resentment... but ever since his most recent trip to visit Her, he hasn’t been able to shake this awful idea: a vision of him standing over the remnants of her gemstone, shattered, fragments spilled across the otherwise pristine floors of Homeworld. He... he didn’t do it when he had the chance. He wouldn’t do it, would he?

(Orange fragments, cold and slick...)

Would he??

And yet nevertheless, the thought tortures him with its frequency, makes him feel downright nauseous at every turn. He doesn’t want it. He doesn’t want to feel this way at all.

Four.

29. I am unable to keep up with my schoolwork.

Stop. Sharp inhale. Staccato, shaky exhale. Repeat, deeper this time. Repeat.

(He can no longer see neon pink reflecting in the smooth metal clasp at the top of his clipboard.)

Okay. Schoolwork.

N/A, he writes in one of the boxes, arm still trembling from the last two questions despite his attempt at cool-down exercises. Not applicable. He hasn’t even been to school, and dreads the inevitability of this therapist asking about that mess.

30. It’s hard to stay motivated for my classes.

N/A.

31. I feel confident that I can succeed academically.

N/A, once more.

And like that, the questionnaire is over. Steven is quick to hide his answers behind the front page, and slides the pencil through the length of the metal clip. He glances around him, drinking in his surroundings with pinpoint precision. Despite his earlier concerns, no one is maliciously staring. No one’s whispering. He internally wrestled with a few challenging subjects and what do you know, it didn’t end in an embarrassingly public meltdown. He— he wipes a stray tear from his eye with the butt of his palm— he took a solid step forward today.

Coercing his body to move, he pulls himself out of the cushioned chair and crosses the room.

“I finished,” he says softly, proudly, as he hands the clipboard and pencil to the receptionist. She smiles and accepts his hard-fought offering.

For the first time in a while, the smile he instinctively flashes back almost feels genuine.

I want to be better, he thinks. I will be better.

____

Notes:

This fic is loosely based on my own experience of the intake process, and the questionnaire I had to fill out. No two intake experiences are the same though, of course. This is merely one possibility. I also take personal liberties on the way I depict Steven’s struggle with mental health, and acknowledge and respect that no two fans’ interpretation will be the same.

Additional notes: -Steven’s still a minor, so he can’t actually sign contracts. I figure Greg signed a handful of forms beforehand as his guardian, and then left to allow his son a bit of privacy with filling out the questionnaire stuff. Since he's a teen, they're still giving him the full confidentiality clauses to look over so he's wholly aware how that works, though.

-To expand on a brief comment made in the midst of this, I headcanon that Steven cut both meat and fish out of his diet, and thus actually slipped up on his vegetarian diet when he was training with Jasper. I interpret this as further showcasing how the poor kid— due to being mentally vulnerable at the time and thus liable to coercion/unwise decisions— began to take actions that went against much of his established morality. He ended up sacrificing his dietary choices during those days, just like he briefly sacrificed his pacifistic views to fight Jasper.

-I also headcanon that the therapist Steven is going in to see after this isn’t the one he eventually sticks with and mentions as “my new therapist” in The Future. It’s totally normal and okay to try a few different people to find someone who you click with, after all.

Thank you for reading!

#su #su future #steven universe #su fanfiction #my writing stuff #okay the official crosspost #here you go #i keep switching how i post fics here hhh #i LIKE having the ao3 link in the post itself #but when i do that the fic almost never shows up in tags so *shrugs*

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pixie88 · 4 years ago

Text

A Shoulder to Cry on

Chapter 17 - Always the Bridesmaid.

A/N: This one is very Angsty I hope I haven’t over done it. Mentions of drug abuse. Sorry to be clogging up you tag notes with A&E - Alone chapter today and ATB today! I hope you like it.

Only tagging those who have asked. I hate to annoy people with tags.

Read previous chapters HERE!

Warnings: Fluff & Angst

Word Count: 2103

Pairings: Laila x Harry

Enjoy!

His house was the closest to Rem's but him bring the brother closest to her age, they had always gotten on better than the older two. Harry was at work with back to back sessions, she didn't want to bother him. He answers the door "Lai?" Her eyes are swollen and red "Lai, what's a matter?" He pulls her in for a hug "Nate, I thought I was doing the right thing!" She sobs.

"Hey! It's OK! Come on, let's get you off the doorstep. I'll make us a tea and you can tell me what is going on!" She follows him to the kitchen "Are the kids here?" She wipes the tears from her face, "No, Zeppy has gone to Vicky" he rolls his eyes at the mention of her name "And Jade has taken the boys swimming" he calls back as he makes his way to the kitchen.

A few minutes later he comes in with 2 cuppas "There you go! I can't remember if you take sugar or not"

"That'll do fine!" She smiles as he hands her the mug "So, what has upset ya?" She sighs not wanting to talk about it, but that's why she's here "It's Rem...he probably hates me. Alene has been in contact with Melissa and she wants to build bridges with Rem. I went round just now to have a word with him and he got angry and kicked me out" she sobs.

Nate rubs her back and hands her a tissue "Oh Lai! I'm sure he didn't mean it! It's just a sore subject for him, you know this more than anyone. Once he calms down, he'll realise he shouldn't have taken it out on you" Laila wipes her tears and takes a deep breath.

"I get why he is upset, I do...." Laila's phone starts to ring, she didn't want to speak to anyone right now other than Nate, so she ignored the call, a few seconds later her phone PINGS "You should get that maybe it's Rem?" she huffs pulling out her phone Harry's name appears across the screen.

"It's Harry, Alec has told him about what happened with Rem. Looks like he tried to call me too. I'll give him a call back in bit" she puts her phone away "I think Rems will be fine once he cools off. You've got to also think it's a big thing! Here he is building this new life with Alec and suddenly the past comes rolling in" She feels a little better after talking to Nate.

"So, Zeppy has gone to see her Mum?" Nate rolls his eyes "Yeah, not much I can do able that now she's 18" Nate just shook his head, he always worries when Zeppy is visiting Vic as she always comes home with an attitude.

15 Years ago

Zeppy and Vicky's mother and daughter relationship has always been up and down, but more downs than ups. When Zeppy was 3 Nate went to pick up Zeppy as usual, she would spend weekends with him, he knocked on the door and got no answer.

He knocked a few more times again, still no answer, as he opened the flap of the letter box he could see straight into the kitchen where Zeppy was turning the dials on the gas cooker hob.

That's when the smell of gas hit him, he calls out to Zeppy to stop and open the front door.

After Zeppy unlock the door he rushed his daughter out the house and into his car before going back inside to turn off the gas and in search of Vicky but there was no sign of her in the house. Zeppy's bag was packed near the front door, he picked it up and left the house.

30 minutes later a frantic Vicky calls him, after the 5th call he finally answers "PLEASE TELL ME, YOU HAVE HER NATHAN!!???" still angry she had left their 3 year old daughter in the house by herself, he decides to be cruel "Have who?" he calmly asks "WHAT DO YOU MEAN WHO?? OUR DAUGHTER!!?" she screams down the phone at him.

"No, I'm running late. I did call to tell you" this was a lie he had called her after he found she had left Zeppy at home alone. "NATHAN! SHE'S GONE!!" she's sobbing on the other end of the phone "How?" he asked, hoping she won't lie like she has on other occasions. Like when Zeppy had used Vicky's phone to call him because Vicky had collapsed. When he got there she lied saying she had the flu, but he knew better the reason why she collapsed was the same reason they split - Drugs.

"She was in the shops with me....I turned away for a second and she was gone" this was the last straw for him. She had flat out lied to him, on the way to his, he asked Zeppy where Vicky was she told him that she had left with Scott (One of her druggie friends) and told her not to answer the door to anyone leaving her there.

"Good job she's safe then! I have her, I was early, but thank fuck I was! Vic, she was playing with the gas cooker! What the earth possessed you to leave our 3 year old daughter by herself?" Vicky knew she had been caught out "Nathan! You scared the shit outta me!" his blood boiled he couldn't even be bother to answer that she clearly couldn't see what she had done was wrong.

With the help of Terry and Liz, he won primary custody of Zeppy before she was 4. When Zeppy started school Nate was a single dad, so Liz would always pick up Zeppy from school as his job at his grandad's Garage was until 5PM. He met Jade on her first shift at the pub, he was covered in oil, but her smile won his heart the first time he saw her.

The next day he came to collect Zeppy he had gone home to change his clothes and shower. Liz looked a little confused when she saw Nate walk through the door clean and smart, but she soon realised why when her eyes followed the direction he was stupidly smiling in. He made the excuse that he and Zeppy would have dinner at the pub that night just so he could stay a little longer. By the end of the night he finally worked up the courage to ask her out....

2 years later.

Jade gave birth to their first son Blake by his first birthday they were married soon followed Isaac and Alfie.

When Jade had gone into labour with Blake, Vicky assumed she would automatically get Zeppy for a few days, but Nate had already planned for Liz and Terry to have her. This broke her heart, so she turned to her only friend and overdosed. Waking up in hospital, she was greeted by Nate stood at the bottom of her bed with a sad Zeppy. She smiled at her daughter as she opened her eyes, but Zeppy didn't return it "Zep? Baby, Aren't you happy to see Mummy?" she asked. Zeppy teared up, "NO!" she shouted back at her before storming off upset.

Vicky looked to Nate "I couldn't keep it a secret from her anymore Vic. She knows how you got here" the look of realizations spreads across her face, "You told her?!" she hissed, he leaned over the end of the bed "Believe it or not...she overheard the doctor. Vic this was supposed to be a happy time, but you went and shat all over it!" he walks off leaving her with nothing, but her tears.

Although Zeppy wasn't biologically Jade's daughter, she treated her exactly the same as the boys, Vicky hated this. Whenever Zeppy would call Jade Mum in front of Vicky on the supervised visits at the contact centres, she would always hiss "She's not your Mum!" Jade would ignore her.

Jade obviously knew what happened with Vicky, but she also understood she was a Mother and how much it must have hard her to hear her daughter call another woman Mum. Much to Nate's disapproval Jade always encouraged Vicky and Zeppy's relationship she even got him to change the fortnightly supervised visits to once a week. If it was left up to Nate, she wouldn't have any contact what so ever.

As far as Vicky was concerned, he thought Zeppy would be better off without her in her life. But Jade would always convince him as much as he doesn't, like her, it has to be Zeppy's decision on whether she kept in contact with her or not and if he took that away from her she would resent him for it. Zeppy kept contact in hope that one day she might have a normal Mum, one that might put her daughter and her health first.

So far that seems a long way off.

Present day

"Probably Vicky talking in her ear, but don't take it to heart, Nate" she smiles her phone rings again. She takes a look at the screen, it's Harry again "You better answer that he'll be worried about you" Nate gets up "I'll make us some lunch and you speak to your boyfriend" Laila answers the phone.

"Hey handsome!"

"Hi my love, Are you OK? Alec called me and told me about Rem's blowing up"

"Yeah, I'm OK! I'm at Nate's just talking about it with him"

"Are you sure you're OK? I can see if I can get Ollie to take on the rest of my PT sessions for today?"

She smiles at his sweetness "I'm fine now....what time do you finish? I'll pick you up in the car?"

"If you're sure? I finish at 4 today"

"Yeah, I'm sure and I'll see you at 4"

"OK 4...I love you!"

"I love you more"

Nate makes a gagging noise at his sister, she laughs as she hangs up "Things going well between you two then?" she rolls her eyes at him "Clearly!" he hands her a sandwich "Cucumber and lots of butter" she laughs, "You used to make me these for my packed lunches at school or if I was ill"

"You loved them, I remember someone telling mum not to make your lunch box because you wanted me to do it!"

"To be fair mum would normally chuck in some Jacobs crackers with butter and grated cheese, that stuff would always go everywhere! Do you make the kids these?"

"Yeah, Zeppy used to love them. Alf, Blake and Isaac still have them if they are having packed lunch"

They heard the front door slam "Jade? Zeppy?" Nate called out soon after he heard footsteps hammer up the stairs before another door slam "Zeppy?!" Laila said as she looked to Nate. He sighed and was about to get up from the sofa to deal with his daughter, but Laila grabbed his arm "Let me!"

He sat back down, leaving Laila to deal with one of Zeppy's mood swings. She knocks on the bedroom door to hear Zeppy yell "Dad, go away!" She knocks again "Zippy, it's me!" She heard her huff followed by footsteps coming closer.

The door swings open, Zeppy's eyes are swollen "Will you stop calling that Aunt Leia!" Laila laughs.

It was 3 months after Nate had found out about Zeppy that Laila first met Zeppy. She could never pronounce her name right, it always came out as Leia, it kinda stuck until she hit her teens and she started calling her Aunt Laila and she asked her to stop calling her Zippy.

"Are you going to let me in to have a chat?" she doesn't respond, she moves away from the door and wanders back into her room leaving the door open. Laila walks into the bedroom Zeppy is slumped on the side of her bed, head down looking at her feet. Laila saw her wiping her eyes, "Zep's, what's wrong?" she sits down next to her, Zeppy turns away from her "Come on, you can tell me!"

"She's using again!" she hisses towards Laila, she pulls Zeppy to her chest and she begins to sob "Am I not enough? I told her after the last time if she used again that's it...I'm cutting her out of my life"

It breaks Laila's heart to see her niece like this.

Why can't she see what an amazing daughter, she has!?

Continue reading this story here - Chapter 18.

@lem-20 @ridgy--didge @secretaryunpaid @irisofpurple @khoicesbyk @txemrn @tea-me-kah @casualpostqueen @gloriousalmondvoiddreamer @beautifuluknownvoid

#atb #fictional story #Always The Bridesmaid #Original Work #original writing #original character #original story #pixie 88 #harry x laila

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cstormsinukagblog · 4 years ago

Photo

Thank you @ruddcatha for helping with the banner and thank you @neutronstarchild for helping with the title.

Happy birthday @lavendertwilight89!!! I hope you enjoy the traditional Birthday Smut.

A/N I do not own Inuyasha or any of the characters.

Please enjoy and be warned that this is definitely smut.

Read it on Ao3 here and on ffn here. If you enjoy it, feel free to buy me a ko-fi here.

She was listening intently to the radio. She knew she had almost zero chance at this silly drawing, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want to hear them call her name. It had been a whim when she bought that silly ticket and put her name in a box. Sure, that $5 would have bought her a hot cup of coffee, and maybe even a danish; but she just wanted to take a chance. She had just as much a chance as anyone else, right? Well, probably not. She had seen several people buy a whole slew of tickets and put them in. She had promised herself if it was meant to be, one ticket was enough. Ok, so she had zero chance, and when they called someone else’s name, she’d go see Bankotsu and he would hold her and make her feel better.

“And the winner of the all expenses paid 3 day, 2 night, ski excursion to Club Med located in Hokkaido for 2 is… Higurashi Kagome!!!”

She felt her eyes go wide. She won! She actually won! She jumped off the bed, threw her hands in the air and let out a loud whooping, ‘WHOO HOO!’

She jumped up and down a few times, almost shouting, “I won!!!” Then, once she settled herself down a bit, she grabbed her jacket and keys, threw on her loafers and ran out the door. She had to go tell Bankotsu! He would be so excited! A weekend ski trip! She was out the door and in her car before she could catch her breath. She hoped he would be as excited as she was, she’d never won anything like this before.

She pulled up to his apartment and let herself in using the key he’d given her. She usually called or texted to let him know she was coming, but she was too excited about that! She wanted to surprise him!

Unfortunately, it seemed Bankotsu wasn't the only one who was getting a surprise.

She walked through his door and stopped dead in her tracks, her mouth agape and eyes wide. Her boyfriend was standing next to the couch as naked as the day he was born, fucking some woman with huge breasts and a black bob. She knew some sort of sound came out, but if you asked her, she wouldn’t be able to say what it was, nor did she think she could make it again. And just as the mystery sound left her, four eyes landed on her, as both Bankotsu and his lover looked at her like she was intruding. And sure, she probably was, but that didn't mean that this was okay.

She dragged her eyes off the woman whose breasts were still bouncing as Bankotsu had still managed to keep his rhythm. Once they met Bankotsu’s, all she saw was boredom.

“What are you doing here, Kagome?”

No shock, no apologies, nothing. Just a ‘what are you doing here’. As if she had inconvenienced him. With those words she finally closed her mouth and let out a growl. He was cheating on her and didn't even seem fazed by the fact he was caught. How long had he been cheating on her? Had he ever been faithful? She was furious. Her voice came out low and even she didn't recognize it.

“You know what, Bankotsu? We’re through. Lose my number.”

With that she stormed into his bedroom, grabbed the few belongings she kept there for when she spent the night and left, all before he had finished fucking the woman. Not that he made any move to stop, clearly he was too busy.

As she reached her car, the tears started pouring down. Had she thought she and Bankotsu were going to last forever? Probably not, but she did love him. At least she thought she had. Now she just felt angry and betrayed. And of course her best friend Sango was over Miroku’s. She hated bothering her there, but she needed to talk to someone. She drove over to the apartment and sat in her car sobbing for several minutes before she was able to calm herself down. She knew she looked a mess, but she really just didn't care. She climbed out of her car and went to the door, buzzing number 32. It took several minutes before a gruff and irritated voice came over the speaker.

“Who the hell is it?”

Her heart sank. She knew Inuyasha really didn't like her. He was Miroku’s best friend and roommate, and she had no idea why he seemed to hate her, but his absolute disdain for her was as clear as day, even though she always tried to be as polite to him as possible. She’d be lying if she denied the crush she had on him. She let out a small whimper and then pushed the talk button.

“Sorry to bother you, Yash. But I need to talk to Sango. Please?”

“She-she’s not here. Miroku took her out dancing or something. Are you okay?”

His voice was soft. Almost gentle. She stared at the speaker box like it could explain what the hell had just happened. She’d known Inuyasha for over 5 years, and she had never heard his voice sound that caring. Her silence must’ve gone on too long, because he spoke again.

“Kagome, are you hurt?”

This time, his voice didn't just sound caring. It almost sounded concerned. But why in all the heavens would he be concerned if a person he loathed entirely would be hurt. Well, that wasn't fair. He wasn't a terrible person, surely he didn't want her to be hurt. But it still didn't make sense. As she stood there with her brain short circuiting, she seemed to forget that he was talking to her. She had no idea how long she stood there before the door was practically ripped open and Inuyasha stood in the doorway staring at her.

Her eyes were wide, and she knew she looked like hell. But he wrapped his arm around her and led her upstairs to his apartment. Tears were streaming down her cheeks again, as his arm pulled her close and tucked her into his side. When they finally got upstairs, he deposited her on the sofa and came back a minute later with a glass of water.

“Kagome, are you hurt?”

Her eyes met his, and she realized he was kneeling on the floor in front of her. Why was he kneeling in front of her? Why did he come downstairs to get her? Why would he care about her sobbing in his lobby? Why in all the world was she so trapped in her own head?

“No, I’m not hurt. Sorry for bothering you.”

At her words, he seemed to release a breath. She had never been so confused. What in the hell was going on with this day?!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Inuyasha was sitting on the couch scrolling through his phone. He’d been enjoying the relaxing silence until that damned buzzer went off. Who the fuck would be coming over unannounced at 10 pm? Sure it was Friday, but it's not like he had that many actual friends, and Miroku always bragged about his dates with Sango on social media so no one would be stupid enough to just show up. He stood up and practically stormed over to the speaker on the wall.

“Who the hell is it?”

He waited for what seemed like way too fucking long for a response and was about to assume someone pushed the wrong fucking button when a tiny sniffle came through, followed by a sad voice that damn near broke his heart.

“Sorry to bother you, Yash. But I need to talk to Sango. Please?”

It was Kagome. The girl of his fucking dreams, Kagome. The one fucking person in the world he had been wanting to date for half a fucking decade, but was so fucking far out of his league it was pathetic. And he could hear the absolute devastation in her voice as she spoke to him. What in the hell had happened that hurt her so badly that she fucking came here?

“She-she’s not here. Miroku took her out dancing or something. Are you okay?”

His words came tumbling out before he could stop them, but once the terror that she might be hurt hit him, he stood there waiting for her to answer the fucking question. He tried to wait, but her fucking silence was killing him. Was she fucking bleeding out on his goddamn steps? Was she fucking being followed and tried to come somewhere to fucking hide?

“Kagome, are you hurt?”

The anxiety was drowning him as the seconds ticked by in silence. He waited as long as he possibly could before he repeated the damn question, feeling more panicked as her silence continued. Was she even still fucking there? Had she been grabbed and fucking dragged off by some psychopath while he was up here pissed off that someone rang his damn doorbell?

Fuck! He grabbed his keys and practically flew down the stairs, ripping open the door and feeling at least a small relief that she was standing there. Her cheeks were red and swollen, and her eyes were puffy. Clearly, she’d been crying, and he held back the growl welling in his throat. She wasn't his to protect, even if that's all he fucking wanted to do. He put his arm around her shoulders and took her to his apartment. He couldn't let her leave, not knowing if she was safe. At least, that was the reasoning he was trying to use on himself. He felt her snuggle into his side and he wanted to fucking melt.

He sat her down on the couch and went to the kitchen to collect himself and get her a glass of water. The scent of her tears was so strong he wanted to break something. He still had no idea what the hell had happened, but he couldn't smell any blood on her, which was at least a bit of a relief. After taking a few deep breaths away from the scent of her tears, he felt like he had a little more control of himself and he went back to the living room.

“Kagome, are you hurt?”

She sat there staring at him, no it felt like she was staring through him. He couldn't breathe. His mind couldn't stop freaking out. Then her voice came softly, barely above a whisper.

“No, I’m not hurt. Sorry for bothering you.”

He felt his shoulders sag in instant relief and the breath he’d been holding whooshed out. She was okay. Sure, he knew she had been okay; she was right in front of him. But he needed to hear her say it. Then the rest of her words registered.

“Don’t be fucking sorry. You ain’t a damn bother. What the hell happened?”

Her eyes lifted to meet his, and they were shining with new tears.

“Fuck! Ya don’t have to answer that. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t attacked.”

Her head dropped down and he missed the feeling of her gaze on him. What the fuck was wrong with him tonight?!

He saw her lift her hand and wipe away at the rivulets now streaming down her cheeks.

“It’s okay. Thanks for letting me in. I should probably just go home. Sango will hopefully be back in the morning. I can guarantee you don’t want to listen to me whine.”

His hand landed on her forearm, “Just stay. And I don’t mind. If ya need someone to listen, I can do that. Or Sango and Miroku will be back in a few hours. But you shouldn't be runnin’ around Tokyo all alone.”

Her eyes raised, and the slight twinkle almost made him smile. Almost.

“Thanks, Yash. I’ll stay out of the way. You’re right. I’d rather not be alone right now.”

He let out a slight scoff, “Have ya eaten? I just ordered a pizza an hour ago, there’s still a few slices left.”

At the mention of food, her stomach let out a loud grumble, and her cheeks turned a deep pink. She tried to duck her head to hide it, but it was way too late. Yash let out a deep laugh and went to the kitchen, bringing back a paper plate with two slices. He turned the tv on and handed her the remote.

“Here, we’ve got Netflix. Pick whatever ya wanna watch. I’ll be back in a minute.”

He went to his room to give himself a talking to. He needed to keep himself in check. He knew she was out of his league. Plus, she had a boyfriend, and he was pretty sure they were serious. They'd been together for over a year. -Kotsu something or other. Why was she here and not at his place? He grabbed the blanket off his bed and went back to the living room. She had turned on some cooking competition or something and was huddled in the corner of the couch.

He threw the big fluffy blanket on her, and the smile she gave him made his heart start pounding. Damn, her behavior was definitely not gonna help his fucking crush. He sat back down and scrolled through his phone, his ear trained on her, listening for any sounds of distress from his unexpected guest. She nibbled on the pizza and stared listlessly at the tv. Her small sniffles sounded occasionally, but she seemed to be getting herself under control.

“I’m gonna grab a beer, can I get you something to drink?”

Her eyes were still wet with unshed tears, but they seemed to have slowed down a bit. She seemed to struggle in responding, but finally just gave him a slight nod. He stood there waiting for her to actually tell him what she wanted, and she seemed to be staring at him, waiting for something too. The silence was almost deafening. Until she swallowed and broke it.

“Umm, what do you have?” Her voice was soft, and she sounded so unsure.

And fuck, he was an ass. Of course, she had no idea what the options were. It wasn’t like she fucking lived here. She could live here. Sleep in his bed, curled into his side every night. FUCK!

“We have Sapporo if ya want a beer, I have ramune if you want a pop, or Miroku has sake if ya want that. Or I can make tea for ya.”

Her soft smile had his heart beating a mile a minute, “Tea sounds great. Thank you, Yash.”

He nodded and went back to the kitchen, filling the kettle and turning it on. He grabbed a beer out of the fridge and downed it quickly, tossing the can in the trash, and he grabbed another before getting her a mug out of the cupboard and putting a tea bag in. The water was boiling in no time and he took the honey out with him when he took her the cup of tea. If she kept giving him that smile, he was never gonna let her leave. This tiny woman, who was everything he’d wanted for fucking ever. This beautiful woman who was the first person ever to look at him and not show fear, hatred or disgust at who and what he is. She never seemed to care that he was a hanyou. She never treated him like he was less for not being all one or the other. She acted like she cared. She cared so fucking much, and that shit scared him.

She bobbed her tea bag in her cup a few times and added a small spoonful of honey, then stirred it carefully. He listened to the gentle clinking of the spoon on the side of the cup. Trying so hard not to focus on her completely. But he was scrolling through some stupid app and hadn't even remembered actually seeing anything. Her dainty sip of the hot beverage had him glancing over. As she drank down the warm liquid her whole body seemed to calm down. Then her voice pulled his attention, and he was staring at her. While she stared into her cup of tea.

“I won a drawing today. I won a weekend trip for 2, to Hokkaido. I went to tell Bankotsu. Apparently, we haven’t been on the same page. I thought we were exclusive. He thought he could fuck other women. I think for a woman to hear that her boyfriend has been cheating sounds terrible. To walk in on them fucking, and him not even having the decency to look ashamed of cheating is... I-I don’t even know why I’m telling you this.”

Her bitter laugh seemed to take control over him. He was at her side and had her pulled into him before he even knew what he was doing. Her head was in his chest and he could feel her hot tears soaking through his tee. Her soft whimpers and sniffles were breaking him, but he couldn't let her go.

“He sounds like an ass. Why the fuck would you be sad for getting rid of him?”

The slight giggle against his chest brought a small smile to his face. But he made sure to hide it when she pulled away to look him in the eyes. Her smile was watery, but he was still relieved to see it.

“You know what? You’re exactly right. He was a jerk! Self-centered, thoughtless, condescending- what in the hells did I ever see in that guy?!”

She had pulled away from him during her rant, and his body was missing the contact immediately. But he couldn’t be selfish. She was fiery and spunky, and he was loving seeing the life return to her eyes so quickly, even if she wasn't looking at him anymore. He had to keep her going; he had to stoke the flames.

“Damn, why the fuck were ya with him? He sounds even worse now. You deserve better than that.”

She looked back at him, and her smile had his heart stuttering in his chest.

“Thanks, Yash. I guess I didn’t realize what a shitty boyfriend he was. He was always busy hanging out with his frat brothers, and I don’t think he ever made me a priority except when he was trying to get into my pants. I guess I was a fool. I missed so many signs that it wasn’t a healthy relationship. I just hope I can learn something from it. Maybe things to avoid in future fucked up relationships. I don’t want to make all the same mistakes, or I’ll never make them all in time, right?”

Her bitter smile was killing him, “You’re not a fool. You cared about the guy, so ya gave him the benefit of the doubt. Plus, you trust so completely, it’s amazing, but sometimes that’s gonna cause ya to get hurt. That doesn't mean you should never trust again, it just means you should be a bit more wary of who earns your trust, ya know?”

Now her smile was gone, her eyes were wide and completely on him. He must’ve fucked up terribly. Which was his norm, anyway. But he was so fucking hoping he could salvage this.

“Inuyasha, did you just give me a compliment?”

Her voice had a slight teasing quality to it, but his brain was in panic mode. Fuck, what had he said exactly? Was it a compliment? Was it a mushy compliment? Fuck!

“Uhh, I don’t think so. Why? What did I say?”

Now her smile seemed back to the sunshine he had grown accustomed to.

“You said you think it’s amazing that I am so trusting of people.”

He thought back through what he had said, but couldn't place it. “Keh, I don’t think I said anything of the sort. Don’t be reading into shit too much, Kagome.”

She gave him a soft giggle, and he felt his ears twitch in appreciation.

“Thanks again, Inuyasha. I’ll try to be more careful with who I trust.”

Fuck, her smile was beautiful. Her eyes were deep, soft, brown and he couldn't look away. Even with her cheeks red and still tear stained, she was the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen.

“Keh.” Yeah. Nice job. She’s out here trying to have an actual fucking conversation, and you respond with a fucking scoff.

She, apparently, didn't mind; since she started snickering a bit.

“Hey, are you laughing at me?!” He was trying to act mad, but she saw right through him, apparently.

“Not at all. It’s just weird. We’ve barely been friends for the past 5 years. And I was pretty sure you hated me. This just isn’t how I imagined this night going. I mean, obviously I didn’t imagine breaking up with Asshole, but it apparently needed to happen. But more than that, I didn't know you could be so sweet. Thanks for everything, Yash.”

He felt his cheeks blaze bright red. Fuck, he was in trouble. Especially when she saw it.

“Inuyasha, are you blushing?!”

Then she came closer and her hands were on his cheeks. Fuck, her skin was so soft and warm. And her voice was a whisper. “You are. Why are you blushing?”

Her face was right there, and he could feel her breath on his skin. Her sweet scent was enveloping him.

“Inuyasha, why would you blush when I said that?”

He couldn't breathe, he couldn't talk. She was coming closer. Fuck!

“Inuyasha, can I kiss you?” Her voice was the softest whisper. He couldn't take it. He felt like he had been holding himself back for eternity. He pressed his lips against hers and they were soft, and she tasted so fucking sweet. He knew he was going to be addicted to her taste. He could taste the honey from her tea, and her own flavor was heavenly. Soon their tongues were swirling gently, and he could feel her moan against his mouth. They kissed until she pulled away and they both sat there with their heads touching, panting for breath. Her soft voice broke the silence.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” His eyes burst open, and he stared at her. She’d wanted to kiss him?

His voice was raspy with want and need, “Tell me. How long?”

A grin broke out and her eyes opened and met hers.

“Since the day we met. Didn’t you think it was weird how I didn’t date for years? But you seemed to hate me, so I didn’t want to try. I guess I should’ve tried harder.”

He felt a little growl bubble up and his lips crashed into hers again. He was so deep in the kiss that he almost missed the slight tingle. His senses started fading. He could still taste her, but it was nothing compared to what he just had. Fuck. Now he remembered why Miroku had taken Sango out. It was the fucking new moon. He was hiding from the damn world for a reason. Also, she had never seen him turn human. Fuck, would she prefer him as a human?

He pulled back and closed his eyes. Terrified of her response.

“Inuyasha? What happened? Did I accidentally purify you?”

His eyes burst open. “Fuck, Kagome. I thought you were trained as a priestess. It’s my human night.”

Her expression softened, “Oh, I’m sorry. Should we stop? I mean, I don't know how to do this. I’ve liked you for so long, I can wait longer. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“It’s my human night. I’m always uncomfortable. Did ya wanna stop?”

Now she was blushing. A deep red that went down her neck. Fuck, he could feel his dick getting hard. Stupid human night. It always left him feeling weaker.

“N-not really. I mean, you’re still you. The only difference is your eyes, they’re such a deep brown now, and your hair is so dark. Oh! What happened to your ears?!”

This woman. She was gonna be the death of him. He pulled his hair back, revealing his human ears. She smiled and blushed again. Damn, he missed her scent.

“I mean, of course. I’m such a dummy. You’re human, so your ears would be there. That just makes sense. I’m not good at this.”

Then she covered her hands in her face and groaned. Even as a human he was close enough to hear her mumbling to herself.

“Why am I such an idiot? Why did I say that?”

He pulled her hands down and met her eyes, “you’re not an idiot, ya didn’t say anything bad. Just calm down. Did ya want to keep kissing? If not, we can just relax.”

Her blush was so deep, and he couldn't help but wonder how far down it went. Then she said the most perfect thing.

“I’d like to keep kissing, but I’d rather not do anything else until you’re you again. Is that okay?”

Fuck, could he fall in love with someone this quickly? Of course, he had practically been in love with her for five fucking years. He crashed his lips back against hers, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. She was delicious, and he was gonna eat her alive before he let her leave.

With her arms wrapped around his neck, he pulled her into his lap and wrapped her legs around his waist. Their lips danced, and she gently swirled her tongue with his. Then she dragged her tongue where his fangs would be and she let out a little whimper of disappointment .

He pulled back for a second, “What’s wrong? Were you looking forward to feeling my fangs all over you, Ka-Go-Me?”

He watched her shudder, and her eyes dilated.

“It'll be worth the wait. I’ve waited this long, I can wait. But yes, I have.”

Fuck, he loved her. “Tell me what you've been thinking about. You were looking forward to that, what else?”

Oh, he could feel her pussy getting wet through both of their pants, and it went right to his cock. This was gonna be the longest human night of his life.

“I’ve wanted to feel your claws drag on my skin, I’ve wanted to rub your ears. I’ve wanted to do so much, Inu. I just…” Then she ground her pelvis against his, and he moaned. She was already so far gone. He was gonna have a hell of a time holding on until sunrise.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted to taste you for fucking ever. I’ve wanted to drag my tongue all over your body. See if you taste as good as you fucking smell.”

She grinned, “Do I?” Then she reached down and removed her shirt in one swift movement, dropping it to the couch next to them. Her body was perfect. She was perfect. Soft and pale. Her gorgeous tits gently spilling out over her lacy bra. His hands were on her in seconds, and his head landed in her cleavage. His senses were dulled, but he could still smell her here. She was perfect. She smelled sweet, like vanilla, and his tongue started dragging against her full breasts. She tasted better than he ever imagined.

He moaned against her breast, and she ground into him again. Then as she felt his dick on her pussy, it was so hard for her; she let loose a moan of her own.

“Inu, I don’t think we should stay out here. Can-can we go to your room?”

Fuck, at least one of them was thinking. He wrapped his arms around her ass and lifted her up, silencing anything else she was about to say by kissing her. Well, almost.

“M-my shirt. Sango will know it’s mine.”

He let loose a deep growl, bent down, and she grabbed it before putting her arms back around his neck. Then she kissed him again. He carried her to his bedroom and kicked the door shut behind them. This was going to be the night of his dreams, and he was gonna make sure it was hers too.

He laid her on his bed, and the sight of her topless on his sheet was enough to almost kill him. His dick was straining in his jeans, and all he wanted was her. He took this moment to actually look at her. Her pants were skin tight, and showed almost everything, her bra was plum colored lace and next to her beautiful pale skin it was heaven. He needed to touch her, and after a few seconds she must’ve been thinking the same thing. She sat up and ran her hands along the bottom hem of his tee shirt, gently touching his skin. He gave her a smirk and pulled his shirt up and over his head. The look of awe as she stared at his body was the biggest ego boost he could hope for. She was practically drooling.

Then her soft, warm fingers danced up his abs, and he wanted to fucking melt. Everywhere she touched was on fire. Every line she drew with those delicate hands was burning. He needed so much more. He crawled atop her, and she sunk back into the mattress, allowing him to straddle her. Her hands were on his shoulders as he kissed her. Her nails dragged across his flesh. Oh, the things he wanted to do to her.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Kagome had not been expecting her night to go like this. She had felt so angry and betrayed at her now ex boyfriend. Little did she know that the guy she had been hoping to date for years would be holding her and kissing her to comfort her. Oh, she hoped with every fiber of her being that this was not gonna be just some pity fuck. She seriously couldn’t stand the idea of her longest crush being a fucking rebound. His lips were warm and soft against hers, and the way he fit against her was perfection. But she wanted more, so much more. She had told him she wanted to wait until he was himself to do the big things, but she had never needed to touch someone so much before this.

Her arms were wrapped around his neck as she straddled his lap. His hands were wrapped around her waist, pulling her in so close to him. She could feel the heat of his chest through their shirts and his dick was so hard against her core, she wanted to see him. Then she dragged her tongue against his teeth, hoping to feel his fangs graze against her, and as she touched them, she let loose a small whine.

He pulled back from her and gave her a teasing grin, “What’s wrong? Were you looking forward to feeling my fangs all over you, Ka-Go-Me?”

She couldn’t stop the shudder that racked through her body. She felt the blush of embarrassment cover her face, but she refused to be stopped. He deserved to know, even if it was hard to say it out loud.

“It'll be worth the wait. I’ve waited this long, I can wait. But yes, I have.”

Then he let out a slight groan, and the look of desire on his face had her getting much more brave. “Tell me what you've been thinking about. You were looking forward to that, what else?”

The way his eyes stared at her with such an intense heat had her wanting to melt into him. They weren’t the typical burning gold she’d imagined for the last several years, but somehow she could still see his soul in them. Her words came tumbling out without her permission, not that she would have stopped all of them, just a few of them.

“I’ve wanted to feel your claws drag on my skin, I’ve wanted to rub your ears. I’ve wanted to do so much, Inu. I just…” She was so far gone, she couldn’t stop her body anymore than she could stop her mouth and she ground her hips into his.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted to taste you for fucking ever. I’ve wanted to drag my tongue all over your body. See if you taste as good as you fucking smell.”

Oh, he wanted to taste her? And he thought she smelled good? That was one thing she would love to find out. “Do I?” She should have been nervous and self-conscious, but she knew he would give her exactly what she needed. She lifted her shirt off and dropped it to the couch cushion next to them. It was barely a second before his face was in her breasts, and his tongue was dragging across her flesh. Oh, she had never imagined how sensual that would feel, and she ground into him again. At the feel of his throbbing dick in his pants right against her core, she moaned. Oh, she wanted to feel that. Then the dawning of where they were brought her back to reality for a second.

“Inu, I don’t think we should stay out here. Can-can we go to your room?”

He didn’t say a word to her, he just grabbed her ass and braced her to his body before standing up. His mouth was on hers again and she didn’t want to leave until as she was about to close her eyes she saw her shirt on the couch. Shit. That would be immediately recognizable when Sango and Miroku came back.

“M-my shirt. Sango will know it’s mine.”

He let loose a low growl, but bent down so she could grab it, and then she wrapped her arms back around his neck. She didn't pay the slightest bit of attention to where he took her now. His lips on hers were hot and pulling her into him. She was gently laid down on his bed and he pulled away. She felt cold from his absence until she watched his eyes take her in, and the heat from his gaze scorched her body like a burning flame.

She gave him a moment to look, but then she realized it seemed a tad unfair. Here she was showing a lot more than she really ever did, and he was still in his jeans and tee shirt. She sat up and gently placed her fingers at the hem of his shirt. She wanted to touch him too. The smirk he gave her was pure sin, and then he pulled his shirt up and over his head. By the Gods, this man was ripped. She knew he was gonna be amazing, but hot damn! His abs were cut and chiseled, but not obnoxious. His hips formed a perfect v and he had a dark patch of hair that led into his waistband. She couldn't wait for sunrise to see if that patch went silver with the rest of his hair.

Her hands were gently dancing across his skin, his flesh was solid muscle and she couldn't get enough of it. Of him. Then he climbed atop her and she softly dropped back to the mattress, allowing him to climb up her body. He kissed her again, long and deep, and her hands rested on his shoulders. As he somehow managed to deepen the kiss, she knew she wouldn't be able to wait until sunrise.

He pulled away from her lips and she panted, trying to catch her breath. She’d been kissed before, but never like this. His lips were traveling down her neck, and when he reached her shoulder, he gave it a hard suck. He was definitely going to leave a mark there, and she couldn't care less. Her fingers tangled themselves in his hair, completely lost in the feel of him.

She didn't notice when he pulled her bra down enough to reveal her light pink nipples, but she definitely noticed when his mouth latched onto it, and she let loose a loud open mouth moan. She used her fingers in his hair to pull him closer to her breast. His tongue felt so good on her body, and she wanted him everywhere. She could feel his lips smirk against her breast, but she didn't have it in her to be offended, or upset. His tongue was stirring her up, and she needed him to help her.

“Inu, please. I need more.” She was barely aware of the words leaving her mouth, but it seemed to be exactly what he wanted to hear.

“Thank the fucking Kami, I thought you’d never ask.” He sat up and unbuttoned her jeans, and started pulling them down her hips. She lifted her ass off the bed, knowing he was going to give her everything she could hope for. After he peeled her out of her pants, he started kissing up her calf and down her thigh. Oh, his lips were burning hot, and she wanted to stay in the flames until the world ended. When he reached her core, he gave a long lick on the outside of her panties and she felt tremors rack her body. She felt like she was gonna cum from that alone, and she was still wearing underwear.

“Fuck, ‘Gome. You taste like heaven. I am gonna fucking eat you alive, babydoll.”

She heard a distinctive rip, but she was too far gone to care. His mouth was on her pussy, lapping at everything she had. She could only imagine the sounds escaping her. Her hands were tangled in his hair again, and she tried so hard not to buck off the bed and fuck his mouth. She didn't think she was succeeding when she felt him chuckle against her. Then his hand went to her hip, and he held her down.

“Relax, Babydoll. I am gonna give you everything you want and more. Just relax and hang on for the ride, I have been dreaming about this for too fucking long for this to be over quickly.”

Her eyes were wide as she stared down at him. He gave her a wicked smirk and then his face vanished again, and she let loose a wail. She had never cum so fast or so hard in her life. And Inuyasha gave no sign of stopping. His tongue was lapping at her clit, his fingers were thrusting into her pussy, and she could feel him sucking and nibbling with no rhyme, reason, or pattern. She was gonna scream, and she had never been a screamer.

She finally dragged her hands out of his hair, when she realized she had accidentally pulled a little too hard. His growl against her clit was the clue. But she had to put her hands somewhere. At first she fisted them in his sheets, but the things he was doing to her were more extreme than she had ever felt! Finally, they landed on her breasts and she knew the second he saw her playing with her nipples thanks to the guttural moan against her folds.

“Inu, please I need you. Please?”

He surged up her body and kissed her hard. The taste of her pussy on his lips spurred her on more. She drank herself off of him, as if she were the sweetest wine, after all he had seemed to think she was.

“It’s not sunrise yet. I thought ya wanted to wait until I was me?”

The smirk he gave her was almost cruel.

“I was wrong. You’re always you. We’ll just have to do it again after sunrise.”

He growled against her, but sat up and climbed off the bed. His pants were off faster than she could follow, and his boxers were gone in what seemed like a blink. He opened his bedside table and pulled out a condom. He must’ve been just as eager as she was, because she barely saw him slide it on, before he crawled back on top of her and placed his cock into her folds.

“Are you sure? There’s still time to change your mind, ya know.”

He was still unsure? After everything that had happened in the last couple hours, he really doubted her?

“Are you trying to change yours?”

He let out a low growl, “Fuck no.” Then he slammed into her. She did scream. Fuck, she came on his cock the second he thrusted into her. He had her wound up so tight, she gasped for breath after. Once she was breathing a little more normally he leaned forward and started thrusting.

“Fuck ‘Gome. Your pussy is amazing. I could just fucking do this for eternity and I’m pretty sure I would be in heaven.”

She couldn't form words. She mumbled and moaned something incoherent, but she knew she said his name in there somewhere. His cock was thrusting in and out of her so deep and hard. She wanted all of him. Her hips began bucking against his, trying to meet his thrusts, and he let out a deep groan. Then she must've done something by accident because he almost stopped and started gasping.

“If you do that again, this is gonna be over a lot fucking sooner than I want it to be, Babydoll.”

She had no idea what she had done, but she needed him to be as undone as she was. He had made her cum at least three times and he was building for a fourth. She was bucking wildly until his hands landed on her hips. He held her down and pounded into her ferociously.

“Fine, but if this is gonna happen, it’s gonna happen my fucking way.”

She screamed his name as her core tightened around him and she heard him growl her name before collapsing onto his elbows and kissing her deeply. His hips gave a few short stuttered thrusts as she came back from her high, and he finished cumming. She gasped for breath and he wrapped his arms around her, then rolled her over so she was on top of him. Her head laid on his chest and she listened to his heart pounding in his chest. His fingers tangled in her hair and held her close. She wasn't willing to let this be a one-time thing. She wanted this to be the start of something worthwhile.

“Inuyasha, did you want to go with me on a ski trip?”

@akitokihojo @alannada @arcprz @bluejay785 @cammysansstuff @dezzidance @dog-forest-spirit @eternalnight8806-3 @fawn-eyed-girl @feudalpriestess98 @hinezumi @hnn-wnchstr @juliatheanimelover7 @kazeinori @keichanz @kuddle-cakes-writes @lavendertwilight89 @littlemissinukag @liz8080 @malditamigs @mamabearcat @mcornilliac @nartista @neutronstarchild @noviceotakus-blog @petri808 @redflamesofpassion @ruddcatha @sailorbabydoll92 @shinidamachu @sistasecbhere @superpixie42 @stuckinthewrongworld @witchygirl99 @xfangheartx

#inuyasha #inuyasha fanfic #inuyasha fanfiction #kagome #kagome higurashi #inukag #kagome and inuyasha #A Different Prize #cstorm #CStorm fanfic #cstorms writing

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jawritter · 5 years ago

Text

Broken Me...

Ch. 4

Summery: The Dallas Convention couldn't have come at a worse time for Jensen. His world fell apart earlier that morning, but was expected to just act like everything was normal. You and a friend were at the convention for her birthday. Life hasn't been that great for you either, but a forced meeting on stage changes two worlds. Will you be able to put this broken man back together again...

Series Warings: Cheating, shitty marriage, Danneel is a bitch, I unfortunately have to put that as a warning because some people tend to get turnt up about it if you don’t... Smut, Crying, Suiside Attempt, brief discription of suicide attempt and recovery, depression, hints of self loathing, language. I think that’s it... Suicide Trigger warnings will be placed over each chapter!

Chapter Warnings: Language, sad Jensen, touch starved, angst, fluff if you squint.. I think that’s it for this chapter...

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Word Count: 2265

A/N: BINGE READ TIME!! As always all mistakes are mine! Please do not copy my work! Feedback is gold!! Hope you all enjoy this one!!

Want More? Check out my masterlist!!

****MASTERLIST****

“Jensen?” You hiss, looking up and down the hall, and then back at your sleeping friend before stepping out into the hallway and closing the door behind you..

Jensen stepped back a little in the narrow hallway, not wanting to crowd you, shifting his feet a little uncomfortably before looking back up at you with an almost a shy expression covering his face..

"Hey."

You more than a little dumb founded, of all the people you expected to see standing in outside your motel room door in the middle of the night, Jensen was not one of those people...

You couldn't tell if he was angry or not. Personally you felt like everything was your fault.

You didn't know why, but there it was...

He and Danneel had obviously separated before he got here...

Still you couldn't help the guilty feeling in the pit of your stomach...

So you stood there examining your feet... Waiting for him to say something else...

"Hey." You echoed him.. Needing desperately to break the silence that had fallen between you.

"Let's go grab a coffee down stairs, I think I owe you an explanation." He finally said after what felt like forever.

You still couldn't look up at him for some reason, a strange feeling crossed between shame and confusion from all the drama making you feel more than a little stressed to even be seen with him in public right now..

"I'm a little underdressed."

You were wearing an oversized, faded black shirt that had Stewie from a Family Guy holding a bazooka on it that said 'I don't play well with others', and a pair of pink, purple, and black plaid pajama pants and ankle socks.

Jensen laughed slightly.

"You look fine sweetheart, and besides, I'm not much better off."

Curiosity got the best of you at that point, making you really look at him for the first time since he knocked on your door..

He was wearing a plain white T-shirt, red and black pajama pants, and flip flops. His hair was sticking up at cute random angles, and his face was a little redder than normal, his eyes had an unnatural red tent to them, and looked as if he’d either had a little too much to drink earlier, or he had been crying.. It was hard to tell which...

"It's like 3 am, nobody is gonna be down there." He said, shifting his feet uncomfortably on the floor, and looking around the hall...

He was a mess....but he still looked attractive as ever…

He hadn't shaved all day, so he had a nice five o'clock shadow going, and even though he looked like he'd just rolled out of bed after a long night out he still looked beautiful.

There was a look in his deep green eyes… One you didn’t quite understand that just wouldn’t let you turn him away...

"Fine, let me grab my wallet."

You turn to open the door to your room, but he quickly stops you as if you go into the room, you will just leave him hanging in the hallway...

"I'll pay." He said, reaching out and grabbing your hand in his, then quickly letting it go as if he’d crossed some unseen line.

"Okay."

You silently followed him to the elevators and watched as he pushed the button to the bottom floor, both of you riding in silence, not saying anything until you both had your coffee ordered from the tired looking girl behind the counter, and found a booth in the very back of the kitchen/ eating area of the hotel..

There was nobody in sight. Just the desk clerk, and the girl working for the coffee shop. The hotel was almost eerie quiet compared to all the cayos and movement of earlier today with fans and vendors working throughout the hotel, now it was all but deserted...

"I'm sorry about what Danneel did." He finally said almost in a whisper, staring at his untouched coffee cup that was sitting in front of him. "You didn't do anything wrong, and you didn't deserve that. She was just pissed, and was attacking me. Still you shouldn't have been caught in the crossfire."

He looked exhausted when he brought his hands up to his face, rubbing it harshly, and you just wanted to reach out and hug him..

"You can't control what she does Jensen. Don't worry about it. It's not that big of a deal." You tell him, not wanting him to feel like he owed you anything.

You definitely didn’t want him to feel like he owed you any sort of apology or pity..

"I read the comments." He said, staring you down now, his eyes are cold and hard, emotionless, and that’s just not like him at all. From what you’ve seen online anyway.

"It is a big deal. She was trying to make me look bad. Like I was the one who did wrong, and I didn't do shit." He said flatly, clenching his fist on the table in front of him.

"I came home early from Vancouver. I was going to surprise her. When I came through the door I found her fucking a cashier from our brewery in our living room." He said, still staring you down..

You didn't realize your mouth was hanging open until he smirked at you.

"Yeah that was pretty much my reaction too." He gave you a hollow laugh under his breath. "I stormed out and drove here. When I got here I called her and in so many words told her it was over. I was filing for divorce."

He wasn't looking at you anymore, just rambling like he needed to get all this off his chest.

"She said it was my fault she was cheating on me...... Said she was lonely, and I was never home...." He broke his sentence looking down at his lap taking deep breaths to steady himself. The unshed tears forming in his eyes was enough to make your heart want to stop beating.

Reflexively you reach across the table, and touch his hand, he stiffened, but didn't pull away.

"None of that is your fault. You didn't do anything to deserve what she did. As far as the post to the internet... You're the one that has to get up there in front of a room full of people to answer their......question." You tell him, but he's still just staring you down coldly…

But he hasn't moved his hand...

The man was hard as stone...

You could tell this had cut him deep...

It's not something he would just get over or be okay with in a month or two, this was going to take him some time to get past everything she’d done to him, and you had a feeling it didn’t start today with the cheating, but he had been manipulating him and using him for awhile now..

"You don't even know me.......why are you being nice to me right now........ Is it because I'm famous.... I have money..... What, what's the reason you didn't tell me to go fuck myself like you rightfully should have? I pulled you on stage. I'm the reason there was even a video for her to post."

You hadn't noticed until he'd stopped speaking he had laced his fingers in yours.

It shocked you.....

His words were hard, but it was like he was doing all he could to seek affection and comfort from someone..

"You didn't do anything wrong. She's the bitch that made a post out of a damn cell phone video." You tell him, becoming a little distracted by his thumb making little circles on the back of your hand.

"I don't care about your money, you can keep it. I don't care about you being famous. If you were a UPS driver or somebody flipping burgers at Burger King you still deserve to have better than what she’s done to you. 'Cause you were gone a lot and they were lonely.' That's the biggest bullshit statement I've ever heard, and definitely not a valid excuse for someone to be unfaithful."

He was looking down, jaw clenched, so you decided to stop talking. Not knowing if you were pissing him off, or if he was just tired of talking about it because it was still pretty fresh.

"She wasn't the only one that was lonely." He said, one hand spinning his untouched coffee on the table. "She at least had the kids. I had nobody."

You sit watching as his walls slowly start to come down, walls you didn’t even know were there until they started to crumble..

"I came home a little early cause I wanted some time alone with her... You're not human if you don't crave intimacy from someone, and I’m not talking about sex... Just to have someone to hold while you sleep... Someone when you wake up in the middle of the night you can roll over, and wrap up with so you don't feel so alone......so empty...... I just wanted to be able to be in contact with another person... Just for a little while before I had to be alone again." He still had a grip on your hand, but he still wouldn’t look at you, not directly. Like he was a little ashamed of his own confession.

You were pretty pissed at Danneel before you got down here, but now, now you were even more pissed.

It wasn't fair what she did to him, she didn’t deserve someone like Jensen.... You wished someone would crave you like that, just to be near you… Yet she threw it all away...Then tried to blame him for her fuck up...

"I wish I didn't feel so alone." He said, taking his hand from yours. You already missed his warm hand wrapped around yours. Your skin is still tingling where he’d been touching you.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have just dumped all that on you. Come on I'll walk you back to your room. It's 4:30 in the morning, we both need to get some sleep." He said abruptly, standing and waiting for you to do the same. Walls firmly back in place..

The elevator ride to the 5th floor was a quiet one, and the walk to your room was just as quiet. You both stop in front of the door, facing each other.

There was a look on his face you didn't recognize, pain, fear, loneliness maybe…

"Well I'd say goodnight, but... It's kinda already morning." You say, putting your hand in the door.

Without saying anything Jensen pulls you by your waist into his chest, and for a moment you were too shocked to move, until you hear him take a very unsteady breath. The both of you just stood there holding onto each other for the longest.

Finally, when you looked up at him, his eyes were unfocused, his mind somewhere else. Reaching up in a moment of boldness you touch the side of his face, bringing him back down to reality...

"Where is your room?" You asked, he looks at you confused.

"Very end of the hall." He said, jerking his head in that direction.

You break away from him and grab his hand, you lead him that way. He followed alone behind you, quiet and confused.. When you stopped at the last room he unlocked the door, still confused, but he held it open for you to come in.

Stopping just inside the door he turns to face you, his face guilty, and pained.

"I'm sorry I can't do this." He breathed out, but before he could get too carried away you reached up again touching the side of his face. He leans into your hand without realizing what he was doing.. Or maybe he did… He was a hard person to read when he was acting, and this was no different...

"We're not going to do anything." You tell him, grabbing his hand leading him to the side of the bed.

"I just couldn't stand the thought of you alone again tonight."

Understand hit him hard, and the walls around him broke again, this time like a dam, letting loose a flood of tears in their wake.

Lifting the cover he crawled into the bed. Holding the cover up for you to climb in too..

You climbed in the bed next to him, and he wrapped his arms and legs light around you. Taking another deep shaking breath.

"Thank you." He finally whispers once he gets control of his emotions some...

"Let's get some sleep. You got a lot of people waiting on you in a few hours." You say, running your fingers through his hair, hoping you weren’t pushing him too far.. He was so hurt.. So broken...

You don't know what gave you the boldness to do this.

You just could leave him alone.

Not like that..

Not that hurt.

Not that alone.

He didn't deserve what she did. He deserves to be treated like a damn God as hard as he worked for his family.

Not to be cheated on and lied to.

After only 10 minutes you felt him relax, and his breaths deepen, finally falling into a deep sleep. You drifting off to your own deep sleep wrapped up in the arms of someone you'd had a crush on for almost 15 years. It wasn't even about that at this point though. You Couldn't stand how broken he looked.

You just wanted to put him back together.

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#jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles fanfition #jensen ackles fanfic #jensen x reader #jensen x you #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #dark fick #hurt!jensne #x reader inserts #jawritter

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bugoverlord · 4 years ago

Text

5 times kuroo couldn’t help kenma, and one where he didn't need to///kuroken

Kenma falls to the ground. His wobbly legs give out after running so far and fast. He breathes heavy as he collects himself again. He looks behind him quickly to find that he was not being chased anymore.

He hates the other kids. He hates how they don’t like him or his hair or his shyness. He wishes that they would just leave him alone for once instead of harassing him every chance they get.

Kenma is nine years old and in the second grade when the other kids decide to start trying to get Kenma to open up in the worst way possible. First it started with fake-but-polite smiles in his direction during lunch, but when they realized he wasn’t going to smile back or even look them in the eye, they got mean. They tripped him and pushed him. They would yell and make fun of his hair and voice and clothes.

Thats why he found himself on the sidewalk, blocks away from school after trying and succeeding to outrun the bullies.

His eyes tear up and his throat heaves a dry sob. He started crying even more when he realizes in the midst of running away, that he forgot his backpack. He knew that his mom would get mad and he knew that if he went back to get it, he would just get hurt even more. So, he stayed on the sidewalk helpless crying at his scraped knee and hurt feelings.

He hears a quiet “Kenma!”, coming from behind him. He sees Kuroo, his best friend and the only person that has ever decided to stay with him voluntarily. He has a concerned look on his face as he draws nearer.

“Kenma.. did the other kids hurt you again?” He asks.

Kenma nods shakily, trying to get up from the ground.

Kuroo frowns and shakes his head, obviously angry.

“Well, I knew that you had gone somewhere because when I went to your class after school today you weren’t there but your bag was, and I knew you would never leave your bag unattended with your PSP inside so I went and tried to find you, but you weren't anywhere on school property and I got scared so I ran out of school and-” Kuroo says, his words slightly slurring together as he tries to say all of it in only a few breaths.

“I’m ok.” Kenma says and interrupts Kuroo. His words are slightly wavering but he puts on a brave face and reaches for his bag from Kuroo's hands. Once he has the bag in his hand he just reaches inside and pulls out his PSP and turns it on. He’s already turned around when he says “Let’s just go home.” and starts walking.

2- (S*LF H*RM TW)

Kenma is on his bed playing a video game when Kuroo bursts through the door.

“Hey Kenma! I brought Mario Kart!”

Kenma smiles slightly and scoots to the side on his bed, a clear invitation to have Kuroo sit beside him. Kuroo sits down and sets up the game for two players. Kenma quickly pulls his long sleeves back down his arms when Kuroo isn’t looking, and saves and shuts down the hand-held game he was playing.

He returns his attention back on Mario Kart as he gets ready to play the game.

They play about ten rounds before Kuroo decides he’s had enough of being beaten by Kenma. “This isn’t fair! You know everything about this game! How the hell am I supposed to beat that?”

Kenma grins wolfishly before setting the controller down and shutting the game off for both of them. While he does this, he says “It’s not my fault you’re terrible at video games.” Kuroo gasps, offended and punches Kenma in the arm.

They both laugh and pull out their homework that they got during the day. Kenma is currently in his second year of middle school, while Kuroo is in his third.

They work silently, only making noise when asking about a question or complaining about the amount of work the have each been given.

Kenma huffs. He doesn't get this assignment at all.

“Hey kuro, can you help me?”

Kuroo turns towards Kenma and looks at the page that Kenma has laid in front of him.

“Oh! I remember doing this! So basically..” Kuroo starts but he trails off as he looks at Kenma.

Specifically his arms.

When Kenma realizes this his face turns red and he pulls down his sleeves quickly. He must’ve pulled them up subconsciously while focusing on his work.

“Actually I’m okay I can do it later.” Kenma tries to grab the paper from where Kuroo has placed it under his hands but Kuroo won’t let him.

“Kenma.. where did those cuts come from?” Kenma freezes and doesn’t respond. How could he respond to something like that without being suspicious?

“Kenma. Give me your arm.” Kuroo says, and Kenma can tell that this isn’t a request.

He shakes his head and tucks his arms to his chest, trying to fold into himself so he won’t have to deal with Kuroo’s questions.

“Kenma.” Kuroo says as he grabs at Kenma’s tucked away arms. Kuroo struggles a bit before he latches onto Kenma’s left arm and pulls up the sleeve.

Along Kenma’s forearm are horizontal cuts that are littered everywhere from his wrists to the fold of his elbow. Some clearly new and some light pink and old.

Kenma tries to pull back his arm but Kuroo’s grip won’t let up.

“Did you do this to yourself?” Kuroo asks, concerned. After a few seconds of hesitation Kenma nods slowly.

Kuroo’s expression turns into horror as he stares back down at Kenma’s cuts.

“Why?”

“It just got too much and I didn’t know what to do,” Kenma starts, his face scrunching up tightly while tears start to stream down his face. His breathing gets harsher but he continues, “I’m sorry I won’t do it again, I promise. Please let go Kuroo. I didn’t mean to I promise, It just got to much and I didn’t know how to deal with it I’m sorry-”

Kuroo lets his grip loosen but as soon as Kenma pulls his arm back he throws his arms around the setter.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you Kenma. I love you so much please stop doing this to yourself. I don’t know what I would do if you were gone, Kenma. Please promise me that you won’t do this again.” Kuroo says, his words muffled in Kenma's neck.

Kenma can feel Kuroo’s tears on his skin so he puts his arms around Kuro, trying to comfort the other boy more than himself.

“I promise. I love you too.”

Kenma picks up another ball and puts it on top of the pile in his arms.

“Kozume-kun! Pick up the rest of the balls in the gym for your Senpais!” One of the third years of Nekoma high shouts at him.

This surprises him so much that he drops the three balls that were balancing in his arms. He frowns when he hears laughing coming from behind him.

He starts to pick the balls back up but he pauses when he hears whispers.

“God, look at him, he’s so pathetic.”

“He’s so easy to push around, I wonder why the rooster-head doesn’t use that to his advantage.” “It’s probably because he takes pity on him, I mean, look at the kid! He looks scared of his own shadow.”

His eyes fill with tears and he stubbornly blinks them away and continues to pick up the rest of the balls on the gym floor. Once he puts all of them back into the basket and gets ready to leave, another third year shouts at him again.

“Oh, Kozume-kun, I forgot to tell you, it’s our turn to mop the floor tonight!”

The group of third years leave after that, and Kenma breaths in harshly before mumbling under his breath “yeah, just like it was yesterday and the day before,,,”

He goes to the supply closet and brings out the floor cleaner. As he starts mopping up the floor, he hears shoes squeaking near the door. When he turns to look however, he sees Kuro standing there instead of the third year bully he expected.

Kuroo frowns when he sees what Kenma is doing and walks over to him. He takes the mop from his hand and drags the cleaning supplies back into the supply closet.

“You know you could say no to the third-years once in a while.” Kuroo says.

“We both know that they wouldn’t let me out of the work no matter how many times I say no. And even if they did, they would get back at me for it, later.” Kenma says softly, looking down at his shoes.

“You should have told me.”

“Told you what? That the third years are making me do some extra cleaning? That they’re making me run more than the others? What good would that do? It wouldn’t change how they treat me and you know it.”

Kuroo sighs and brings his arms up and around Kenma’s shoulders.

“I just wish I could do something. I wish they would leave you alone so you can really enjoy volleyball this year.” Kuroo says nuzzling the top of Kenma's head.

“yeah.” Kenma quietly agrees.

Kuroo pulls back from the hug and looks at Kenma's face. He leans down a few inches, and plants his mouth on Kenma’s. It lingers for a few second before he pulls away and pulls Kenma back into his arms. This isn’t a new experience for either of them. They have been sharing kisses since the year prior when they both admitted that they had feelings for each other.

They stand there hugging in the gym until a teacher comes into the gym and yells at them for staying too late into the night.

Kenma is sitting in the corner of his room at ‘his’ 17th birthday party.

It doesn’t feel like his, it feels like an excuse for his parents to invite family and family friends to their house.

His eyes prickle with tears and he covers his mouth as the sobs start pouring out of him. He can’t control them anymore. The people here and the loudness of everything is getting to him.

He can feel his breathing growing ragged as he tries to control his panic, but knowing that there are at least 20 people in his house mingling right now fills him with unexplainable dread and anxiety.

the only person that he actually wanted here was Kuroo, and he is here, but he got dragged away by Kenma’s parents as soon as he stepped through the door and Kenma hasn’t see him since.

While he’s trying to calm himself down he doesn’t hear the door to his bedroom open and close softly.

When he’s finally noticed the legs in front of him and looks up, he sees Kuroo with a sad smile on his face looking down at him.

“Hey kitten. Happy birthday. I’m sorry I didn’t say that earlier but you know how your parents are.” Kuro puts his hand out for Kenma and Kenma gratefully takes it. Kuroo pulls both of them onto the bed, and guides Kenma down to his chest.

“I’m sorry that you aren’t enjoying yourself, babe. I wish I could kick all of the people out and just kiss you senseless for a while.” Kuroo says, rubbing hand up and down Kenma’s back.

Kenma nods against his chest and closes his eyes. His breathing has evened out again and the tears eventually stop coming. Even thought he can still hear the people around the house, the voices have quieted.

Kuroo brings Kenma up to his face and brushes a piece of hair out of his face.

“You are so pretty Kenma.”

Kenma’s face scrunches up in embarrassment and turns red.

“Shut up.” Despite the words, there is no vicious tone in his voice and Kuroo knows that he’s just flustered.

Kuroo brings their faces closer together and says “Happy Birthday, Kenma.” Before kissing him.

“Hello?”

“Kuroo?” Kenma says, sounding nasally and emotional, like he’s been crying.

“Yeah it’s me. You alright?” Kuroo replies already feeling worried for Kenma.

“No.”

“What’s wrong?”

“You made a mistake.” Kenma says, voice wavering. “I shouldn’t be captain. They don’t listen to me no matter how loud I try to be. The first years are constantly yelling and jumping around and nothing ever gets done. I can’t do this anymore. I have to quit.”

“Kenma, they aren’t doing this on purpose believe me i’ve-”

“You don’t know what it’s like to be a failure Kuro! You were always the perfect captain, able to fix anyones problems with just a stupid speech. I don’t have any talent in volleyball and everyone is finally realizing it after I can't hide behind you.” Kenma says aggressively.

“Kenma. You are so talented. You are one of the best setters I know-” Kenma snorts through the phone. “I’m serious. You don’t have the best technique i’ve ever seen, but you see so much. You can come up with the best strategies when you put your mind to it.” Kuroo says.

“I know how tough it can be to get younger players in line, but believe me, when you finally see their full potential and put it all together, you can create a well-oiled-machine. Please just keep trying. For me.”

“I- I just don’t know what to do.” Kenma says after a moment of silence. “How do you get them to listen?”

“Be calm and keep your head. Try to be as authoritative as you can be, and try to show them some cool plays. That always gets them excited.” Kuroo responds.

They both laugh quietly.

“Thank you, Tetsurou.” Kenma says, sounding a lot more calm.

“Anytime, Kitten.” Kuroo responds. “Feel free to call me whenever you need advice. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Hello, welcome to Arcadia.” Kenma says from behind the counter. This job is his favorite one he’s had so far, not because of the customers, but because of the games that are around the store.

The customer that came through the door nods her head and starts walking around the small store.

Kuro comes out of the back holding his bag and some headphones.

“I’ll see you at home, my shifts over for today.” Kenma nods and Kuroo gives one of his small genuine smiles.

While Kuroo is saying goodbye and getting the rest of his things, the young girl that came in just a few minutes earlier comes up to the counter.

She smiles shyly and tucks her hair behind her ears while Kenma rings her up. He doesn't pay any mind and just says “Your total comes up to $12.04.” She nods and pulls out her wallet. After she has paid for her game, she says “Um- can we- I mean- do you want to go out for lunch some time?”

Kenma’s eyes widen. Kuro is standing behind him ready to say something when kenma kicks him under the counter lightly.

“No thanks. Sorry though. Your pretty and all but I’m taken.” kenma says with a bored look on his face. She looks suprised and says “By who?”

“The guy behind me.”

Her face falls into an embarrassed smile and she quickly bows and basically runs out of the shop.

They both let out relieved sighs they didn't realize they were keeping in, and looked at each other before breaking out into small chuckles.

“Wow, I’m surprised at how good you handled that. If we were still in high school you would have turned red and started stammering or something. I guess my shy little Kenma is long gone now.” Kuroo says teasingly as he packs the last of his things from the store.

“Yeah, yeah. Go away.” Kenma says with a red flush on his faced at being teased. Kuroo smirks and pulls Kenma’s face in for a goodbye kiss before leaving.

“See you at home.” Kuroo says.

“Yeah, see you.”

-END-

WOOO that probably the longest fic i’ve posted on here haha! Hope u enjoy my shitty writing!

#kuroken #fanfic #fanfiction #5+1 fic #5+1 #kenma kozume #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu kenma #kuroo tetsurou #haikyuu kuroo #kenma #kuroo #haikyuu fanfiction #haiykuu fanfic #enjoy

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thewritingstar · 4 years ago

Text

The Freedom of Being Yours

This was a commission done for the wonderful @creativecilla Im so excited that its finally done and I hope you enjoy it!! Thank you for commissioning me and putting up with all my questions lol.

Pairing: Reds/Blossick (Brick x Blossom)

Fandom: The Powerpuff Girls

Word Count: 7.8k (this was meant to be a 1k fit but I couldn’t resist!)

Angst/Fluff

Note: thank you to my betas for all their help: @over-under-through1 and @avesthetea

---

On November 17, 1898, early in the morning, a baby girl was born. A soft tuft of red hair rested on her temple and instead of a shrill cry, only a smile was on her small little lips. The only word to define the pink-eyed darling was perfection. There was nothing that could dull the light that sparkled in her eyes.

At the beginning of the year, where she would turn five, everything had been fine. She got to sit and play with her two younger sisters and listen to them babble about nothing as the small creek in the back of their house flowed softly over the rocks.

Life was delicate and sweet. Her mother and father would adore her with presents and toys and even the occasional jewel, yet they often found her perched under a tree or hidden at the creek with a book, much too big for anyone her age to be reading.

Blossom had thought about the stories of travel and adventure. It was freeing and delightful and she had once believed that she and her sisters would live those same lives, of their own deciding. She wanted to see the world and not the same backdrop of her tiny town. Her life would be filled with all sorts of adventures.

But she had been wrong.

Instead of playing outside, she was forced into the study with books that didn’t spark her imagination like the ones before. Her mother was keen on her looking her best and forced her ginger hair into a tightly pulled ponytail or braid and her father wanted her to be enlightened but only because she was the oldest and he didn’t have the luxury of a son.

Just a little before her fifth birthday, she had taught herself to read high literature and how to write complex sentences and even beat out her father in a game of chess. She had also learned from a young age that she would not have the freedom of her sisters, a hard pill to swallow for such a young girl.

♥♥

As the candles became lit on her fifth birthday, everything changed. She was allowed a very small group of friends, yet she hadn’t recognized the boy coming over to her table. He said nothing as he set the pretty pink present down with everything but amusement. His frown was consistent throughout the night and although most noticed his attitude, Blossom couldn’t help but stare at his eyes.

They were the shade of a freshly cut ruby and just as stone cold. Through the blank stares of all the attendants, his was by far the most interesting. They rivaled and complemented the majestic pink of her own iris’s.

He hadn’t said anything to her until he found her sitting away from the party, hidden behind the house with a book open. He thought she had been weird, what little girl missed her own party? He should have turned around but he found himself standing in front of her, toes almost touching.

“You can read?” He blurted out and the soft color of pink graced his presence.

Blossom looked up and her eyebrows drew in. “Taught myself.” She spoke proudly and was slightly surprised when he sat down next to her. “What’s your name?”

“Why do you care?”

She bit the inside of her cheek and held her eye roll. “Because it's my party.”

The boy shrugged. “Fair enough. It’s Brick.”

“Brick.” She whispered to herself. “Why did you come out here? Shouldn’t you be inside?”

He glanced towards the creek. “Shouldn’t the birthday girl be entertaining her guests?”

She closed her book before getting up and smoothing out her light pink dress. “I suppose.” He got up and followed her to the house.

Before they reached the porch, they could hear the commotion from inside and Brick noticed the annoyance on Blossom’s face but chose not to say anything. Even with their young age, they both knew not to speak up and out.

As they walked through the entrance of the house, Brick spotted a chess set in a smaller room off to the side. He gently tugged on her sleeve making her turn as he nodded towards the board.

“You play?” He asked and she only smirked and picked up a piece.

“I'm the best.” She challenged, and soon they were engaged in a long game of chess, ignoring the rest of the party.

Her eyes sparkled as she picked up a piece, her shoulder straightened as she looked into his eyes.

“Checkmate.” Blossom smirked and for the first time that night, his lips turned up into a small smile as he reset the board.

♥♥

The older Blossom got, the tougher her parents were. The yelling and the scolding had become so much that when it occurred, she had learned to take it with a stoic face and never let her lips quiver even as she was breaking inside.

The demands to be perfect in every aspect had led her to be a sufficient dancer, baker, and everything else a lady was meant to do. From the time the sun rose to its setting, she was given a constant stream of scolding which left little time with her sisters

She had thought that she had become a master of hiding her emotions when she had turned fifteen. Her mind was taken over by books and knowledge she found rather useless. The friends she had were more of annoyances as she kept to herself most of the time. If she wasn’t using the same three books to escape her life, she was down by the creek or walking along the rose gardens of her family's estate.

It wasn’t until a random visit by Brick's family got her attention. She came down the stairs and saw him standing there, his brothers already out in the back paying her sisters attention. It had been a few years since she saw him at a summer party, they had played chess for most of it but other than that, their friendship was surface level at best.

“Brick.” She said as kindly as she possibly could praying that he didn’t notice the redness around her eyes and the flush of her cheeks.

He gave her a slight nod. “Blossom.”

She noticed that he had grown taller, just a few inches over her and that puberty was treating him well. Even though he looked slightly unrecognizable, those eyes of crimson were still the same.

Without another word spoken between them, they followed their parents to the living room that had a grand fireplace. She took her seat next to her mother on the couch, just opposite of Brick who rested in an armchair near his father. A chill ran down her spine as she knew what they would be discussing. Brick tried to catch her eye, maybe to go for a game of chess or to the book room but she avoided him just as her mother spoke up.

“I think now is as good as anytime to discuss this.” Her mother said and Brick’s parents agreed.

“Blossom, Brick. After her eighteen birthday, you will be married by spring.” Blossom’s father said sternly.

She felt her body go rigid as the words flooded her mind. Slowly her eyes made their way to Brick’s. He was also frozen and his lips were pulled into a tight line. She could see the way his fists clenched the chair and her soul nearly left her body when he met her gaze.

She tried searching his face for any form of emotion. Anger, sadness, whatever he was feeling, he wasn’t going to show it. But for some reason, her heart sank when he stood and nodded before excusing himself and leaving the room.

Blossom’s mother turned towards her. “You should go.” She said coldly before turning back towards the others. She stood with silence and left.

She found him in the kitchen. A glass of water in his hand and him looking out the window. It was clear as day that he was angry and upset. She couldn’t blame him. Every aspect of their lives had been planned out and she was a fool to expect that she would marry for love.

His shoulder became tense as she stood next to him, taking a glass for herself. They were silent, what could you say? It was a hard pill to swallow at their age and it seemed as if the threads of their personal freedoms were being cut faster and faster.

As much as Blossom abided by her parents wishes, she knew deep down, this was where lines were drawn. She took a deep breath as she looked out the window. She saw her little sister, Bubbles, running after a dragonfly while Buttercup pushed Brick’s brother down. Brick’s blonde brother watched Bubbles spin and laugh and smiled with her.

Blossom watched and her own smile came to her face. The image of her little sisters marrying someone they loved and cherished, melted her heart but reality came back to her as she glanced towards Brick.

“You’re free to go.” She whispered, his head snapping towards her and meeting the pink eyes.

“What?” He asked.

“I won’t force you to be mine. No matter our parents wishes, you are free to do as you please.”

He let out a dry laugh. “You know that’s not possible.”

“Maybe not.” She felt her tears coming but pushed them down. “We can be, or well, we will be married but you do not have to give your heart over to me, I won’t be angry.”

His eyebrows drew together. “I don’t understand.”

Blossom looked away and back to her sisters. “You are free to do as you please. Court any lady you seem fit. My parents might hold you by a chain but I won’t. All I ask is that by the time we are to be wed, nothing is shown to the public to cause a scene or you find a way out.”

Brick thought about it before finishing his drink. “Same to you.” He extended his hand to her and she nodded before shaking it and sealing their deal.

He eyed the front room. “Game of chess?” He smirked.

“Don’t get mad when I beat you.” She matched his expression before passing him and heading to set up their board.

♥♥

As months rolled on, Brick was at Blossom’s estate more and more. Their parents were so content with them being together that parties would be hosted almost every other week, and when Blossom turned sixteen, they had announced the engagement.

They each were given a ring that would be exchanged at the wedding. She stayed up that night, tossing and turning in her bed as she held the box. The golden band that was meant for him was stunning to the random eye but it left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Unlike the pristine gold, it looked like a rusted chain one would put on a prisoner. It didn’t scream beauty or wealth to her but mocked her like a dog left in the rain. She had thought about going into town and meeting with other potential suitors, maybe even rekindling a few friendships from her younger years, but the further she fantasized about falling in love, the more pain was brought to her heart.

The days after her sixteenth birthday had left her with nothing but a hollow heart and false realities. It became very clear that she would hurt herself more in the process of finding her heart than to sit quietly. She closed the ring box and put it into her desk and wiped away her bitter tears.

There was no point in wishing on stars if they all died and fell from the sky.

----

“Checkmate.” Blossom smirked as she placed the final piece on the chess board.

Brick only scoffed before rearranging the pieces, another game after another. Chess and checkers was a small escape from their harsh reality. He made a move and then she did hers. Back and fourth is how it went. By the fourth game, they had an even score and her eyes would find the window again.

She didn’t know if Brick had started looking around for other girls in secret but she didn’t bother to ask, it didn’t matter anyways. As he made a move, she studied his face. He was handsome no doubt and extremely smart too. One of the only people to match her in everything and there was a sense of comfort in knowing she could quote something from a book and he would match it without hesitation. She knew he wouldn’t have a problem finding a partner to keep him company, it would be better that way.

“Bet the creek is cold.” He said randomly and brought her from the wild thoughts.

Her eyes met his and she only placed her piece down gently. “I wouldn’t know.” She quipped. She had never once let herself go into the small river, she could only imagine the uproar her mother would have if she found her doing something fun.

Brick looked towards the clock before standing. “Our parents are still in town for another two hours, even if they leave now.” She hadn’t understood what he was asking before he held his hand out.

Her eyes widened at the thought of her disobeying her parents orders and yet her fingers wrapped around his and soon she was running behind him towards the hidden creek on the east side of the house. The wind wrapped through her long hair and she felt like she could breathe clearer than ever before.

Giggles escaped her lips as he jumped down from the path and onto the small bank before turning and kicking off his shoes. She looked around to see an easier way to get down. Her dress would cause problems if she were to jump and she was scared of hurting herself.

Brick saw the hesitation in her and stepped forward with his arms stretched out.

“Blossoms just jump.” He said before widening his stance to show he would catch her.

Her eyes widened at the statement. “No, I can’t.” Her voice shook and he rolled his eyes.

“Come on. I promise I’ll catch you.”

She gulped. “Promise” And when he nodded, she believed him. His small smile gave her ease and Blossom took off her flats before tossing them down next to his.

She took a breath before letting her feet come off the ground. Right as a small scream left her lips, she felt a sensation she had never encountered before. This idea and embodiment of immunity came over her as she leapt. She felt like nothing bad could ever happen as she fell into his arms with ease.

A strange embrace of warmth she never quite experienced rushed through her as he tightened his hold on her, carrying her like a precious flower.

“Hey.” He whispered, his voice never being this soft as her eyes opened to see the swirl of red closer than before. Her breath had caught in her throat as he had a smile on. He rarely smiled but when he did, she thought it was the most enchanting thing she had ever seen. “See? Caught you.”

A laugh came out as he began to walk and she buried her face into his neck, praying that he didn’t drop her. “Don’t let me go.” She warned him and she felt the vibration of his laugh.

“Relax. Open your eyes.” He whispered in her ear.

Her eyes fluttered open and the first thing she saw was him looking at her. The sun glowed behind him like some sort of halo and her breath caught in her throat when he gave her a smile. She hadn’t realized just how many freckles kissed his skin in the summer sun and she blinked and brought herself back from getting lost in his eyes.

She gazed at the surroundings and saw that his feet had disappeared into the shallow water. Slowly she stretched her legs out until she felt the cool water kiss the tips of her toes. It had shocked her slightly as she forced her foot into the water to stand with him, his arm still around her waist as she held the rim of her dress to not let it get soaked.

“It's cold.” She giggled and she took a step and felt the slippy feeling of the rocks below her. Slowly she walked out of his grasp and carefully went further.

“Don’t slip.” He called from behind as he followed.

Blossom smiled to herself as she looked at the water and saw small fish swimming around. She had never known what flowers grew along the bank or how the breeze was stronger down here.

Her eyes found the clouds rolling above them and she took a step before she felt her foot slid up and found herself falling backwards.

“Ahh-” She let out before she felt the familiar pair of arms holding her up just above the water.

“Told ya to be careful Pink.” He smirked and she only rolled her eyes as he lifted her up and carried her towards the bank.

“I could walk ya know.” She protested but his grip tightened as he stepped over a few small logs and set her onto the sand.

“You would fall again.” He laughed before it fell into the normal frown. “We should head back before our parents return.

The sensation of immunity had faded as she grabbed her shoes and followed him back towards the house which felt colder than the water. That night she laid awake in her bed. The ceiling texture mimicked the way the ripples on the water’s surface and she hugged her blanket to her chest as she kept the memory of joy in secret. It was the first thing her parents couldn’t take from her.

♥♥

After that moment at the creek, the pair began to sneak off more and more as their parents went to town. The chess board was left untouched as they ran towards the river or found hidden garden spots.

It was liberating even if it was as simple as blowing the fuzz off a dandelion. They would run and twirl in the fields, playing like two small children on a summer's day before they fixed their hair and returned to their chess board, keeping their outings a secret.

She learned about his dreams and his deepest fears. Sailing the world and snakes, to be exact. She showed him how to braid his hair and when he wasn’t looking, she would place small flowers in between the strands.

For some reason every time she saw his family arriving at the gates or her own going to his estate, she felt ecstatic. Maybe it was because he was the only one in her world who understood her but even through the sarcastic statements or small taunts, she enjoyed spending time with him more and more.

♥♥

Another year passes by and then another. And before the new set of snow could fall, it was her eighteenth birthday.

She stood in her mirror, still looking at the crack she made all that time ago. She pushed away any thoughts that damn crack dared to resurface and care more about fixing her hair. Pulling her long waves into a ponytail, she wrapped her red ribbon around it. Out of all the jewels and fancy items, this simple silk was her most prized possession. A reminder of her happier days when she was little.

Her pink gove fit her like a perfect chiffon glove and she had to admit that she looked beautiful. She never took much pride in her vanity but on occasion, she would spoil herself with an indulging complement.

A deep breath was taken as she left her room and walked slowly to the stairs where a house full of guests awaited. As soon as her foot hit the bottom of the stairs, a round of applause filled the room and it took her a second to realize that they were clapping for her. Pink dusted her cheeks as she gave a small curtsity and was pulled in every which way to be congratulated on another year of life.

Like her other parties, she barely knew the people there and most were well above her age. She took herself to the ballroom where many guests had already taken up the floor and were spinning and laughing as the music played.

A tap was on her shoulder and she felt relieved knowing that he was here but her heart sank as it was someone she hardly recalled.

“Blossom.” He smiled politely and held out his hand.

Her smile was pulled into a thin line as she took his hand, her mother taught her never to decline a dance. He pulled her closer than what she had liked and smiled at her again.

“Jared.” She said through gritted teeth as she did her best not to groan. She remembered him from random encounterings at other parties. Loud and obnoxious and arrogant, yet he didn’t have the brains to back any of it up. He liked to bother Blossom on occasion and unfortunately, now was the time.

His hand rested on her back, lower than what should have been acceptable. Her eyes narrowed slightly as they danced.

“Ya know Blossom, I heard about your engagement.Congrats”

“That was announced years ago.’ She said sharply. As they danced, she saw Brick across the room. He was dancing with some girl she hadn’t seen.

The girl laughed loudly as she pulled him closer and Blossom couldn’t tell if he was enjoying himself or not, but after the third eye roll, she predicted the latter. Something inside her felt odd as she watched her move her hand to his neck and whisper something.

In a flash, as if he knew, Brick turned his head and their eyes locked. She watched as his eyes narrowed slightly before Jared took her ungiven attention.

Jared chuckled. “And yet he’s dancing with another woman.” He leaned in so that only she could hear what he said next. “You still have a few months until the wedding and no one has seen you two being all that close.” He smirked. “I’d doubt he’d mind.” And she felt his hand travel lower.

Blossom gasped and pushed herself off of him. “Are you out of your mind?” She sneered before lifting her hand and bringing it to his cheek. The sound echoing across the room for everyone to hear and suddenly all eyes were on her and the boy holding his cheek. “Is that what you think of me?”

“I offer you a good time and this is what I get?” Jared scoffed.

Blossom huffed before feeling a hand on her shoulder. She glanced to the side to see Brick next to her. He looked angry and annoyed.

“I suggest you apologize to her.” Brick stated.

Jared’s eyes widened in fear. “Look man I didn’t mean anything towards your girl.” he held his hands up in defense.

Brick took a step forward. He was clearly a few inches taller and a bead of sweat formed on Jareds forehead. He looked down on the now shaking boy. “The fact that you think I would be entitled to her is foolish. No matter her status or anything personal, you don’t just force yourself on a woman or anyone for that matter. So I would be on my knees begging for forgiveness.” He took him by the collar. “And if you ever disrespect my future wife again, I’ll throw you to the wolves.”

Jared’s face turned a sickly white color as Brick removed his hands from him and took a step towards Blossom.

“My apologies Blossom.” Jared looked at his feet.

A smile came onto Blossom’s face. “Get out.” She hissed before turning and holding her head up high. She passed a butler. “The party is done.”

“Of course Miss.” The butler said as he started to escort the guests to the front of the house.

Blossom passed her parents without an explanation and headed outside where the sun had begun to set. All she wanted to do was clear her head as she rested against a random wall. She brought her hand up to her hair and let the long waves fall around her shoulders. Tears threatened to spill but she didn’t want any of that.

“I never got a dance.”

Blossom looked to see Brick standing there.

“What?” She questioned. “Oh. Sorry.”

He let out a bitter laugh. “Don’t worry. Sorry your party got cut short but nice punch.”

She forced a smile while staring at her hand. “Thanks, he deserved it.”

“Without a doubt.”

She saw that his elastic was around his wrist and his hair was down and out of place. Without thinking, she took it and began to braid his hair. He didn’t say anything but let her do as she pleased. She got to the end and saw the small bush of white daisies and grabbed one, plopping it into his hair and standing back in front of him.

“Thanks.” He whispered.

A cooler breeze came by making her hold her arms. “Um, thanks for standing up for me.”

“I didn’t do anything.” He shrugged and saw the saw she shivered slightly. He took off his jacket and placed it on her shoulders. “But I guess you could make it up with a dance?” He held out his hand and she took it.

“I didn’t think you wanted one.” She said lightly She went back to the girl who had kept him occupied all night. She was gorgeous no doubt and even from across the room, Blossom could tell she was drowning in wealth.

Brick narrowed his eyes before he caught on. Realization flooded his face as he spun Blossom. “You mean Princess.” He sounded disgusted to say the least.

“I guess. Friend of yours?”

“A fling in the past if you could even call it that.”

“Oh.” Her voice just above a whisper. “She seems nice.”

He rolled his eyes and scoffed, Blossom coming back from the spin and her chest flush against his. “I wouldn’t call bragging about her dad's money nice. More of an air head that got lucky to be born into money. She can’t even play chess.”

“But she’s pretty.” She mumbled.

Brick moved his hand from her upper back to her lower back and leaned until his lips touched her ear. “Beauty isn’t everything, I prefer depth.” Suddenly she was spun and her back to his chest. “But I think your beauty beats all.”

Her cheeks heated up and she brushed away the compliment. “Depth can get you in trouble.” She responded just as she faced him again. “Pretty things can give you money...freedom too.”

He lifted her arm and she spun under him. He then closed their gap before dipping her gracefully. “Sometimes freedom is right where you are.” He spoke sincerely and when she came back up, he was barely a inch away. His eyes had softened and the way his lips turned into a smile made her heart beat rapidly.

The way he looked at her, was almost canny to the day at the creek. Something within her was pulling her closer to him like a magnet and she couldn’t bear to stop herself.

“I’d never let another man talk to you like that, I promise.” He said softly.

And then she did the unthinkable and kissed him. It was a magnifying spark that coursed through her body and broke down whatever wall she had been holding. But when she realized what she had done, an uncertain silence froze over them and saw the way his eyes widened in what she could only sense as fear.

“I-I’m sorry-” She tried to say but was cut off by his lips coming to hers again. Her hands fell to his shoulders, one cupping his cheek as he pulled her closer. His lips were soft and it was like time had stopped in that moment. Everything bad that had happened in the past, melted away like the snow bringing in a spring she never knew she craved.

His lips were soft and left a cold longing feeling as he pulled away, nose brushing hers. “You never have to apologize, I am yours.”

The tears she was going to shed in anger had turned to pure bliss but as she was about to confess her heart to him, the door opened and she heard the loud shouting of her mother.

Fear sunk in as she watched her mother come from the corner. “Blossom.” She said with spitfire and Brick’s hold tightened on her. “You two are done.” She snapped.

“What?” Blossom shook in his hold.

“Jared’s father said he wouldn’t press charges in exchange for Blossom’s hand.” She smiled wickedly. “I’m sorry Brick, you’re a nice boy but sometimes life isn’t fair and plus, he has more money. The wedding is off.” Her mother spat and left leaving Blossom and Brick with mouths hanging open in shock.

Brick held her. “Blossom?”

“I can’t marry him.” She shook her head.

When his eyes met hers, his heart broke. The bright pink he had grown fond of over the years had seen to fade. It was replaced by a stone cold gaze that only broke on occasion.

He took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it. “You won’t. I promise.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Blossom!” Her mother's voice called. “Come here!”

They looked towards the call and she stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “I’m sorry.” She started to walk. “But for the record, you made the darkest corners of this house feel bright.”

Brick stood in the garden frozen as she left. His own eyes betraying him as tears danced on his waterline. He heard his own name being called behind him. He returned to his parents side, still feeling the spark of the kiss lingering on his lips.

♥♥

She closed the door to her room before she turned until her back was pressed against the wood. Slowly she slid down and hugged her knees to her chest. The tears that came came from an emotion she had never experienced before. As if all the breath in her lungs was gone, she sobbed.

She lost count of the amount of times she had sat with no light but moons and sobbed. The pain her parents had caused her. The insults and ridicule, all of it would be gone by the time the sun would kiss the horizon but this, this cold chill that made her feel hopeless. It was far worse than their taunts.

The way Brick had stared at her. His eyes slightly wide as if he was shocked by how she looked. His expression when he saw her had changed over the years and she wished she had noticed sooner.

But now it is gone. Her parents made sure of that. It was all a game. Her parents had laid out their chess board, counting their moves and every time she felt like she had a chance, she was forced back into her corner as they picked up the piece and moved it themselves.

But for that split second that she looked into his eyes, the game had stopped. The old grandfather clock that hung on the wall had silenced its ticking and she, for however long she got to gaze into those crimson eyes, saw freedom.

And now it is gone. The small gleam of light she saw within him had been extinguished before it had a chance to grow into a blooming fire.

“Blossom?” A voice called behind her.

She picked up her head and whimpered.

“Blossy?” Another voice said again and she brought her hand to her eyes as she stood with shaking legs and opened the door. Bubbles and Buttercup stood with concerning looks before walking in and shutting the door.

“Blossy-” Bubbles hugged her tight. “Why are you crying?” She asked with her own sadness.

The last thing Blossom wanted was her sisters to be upset, so she shook her head and forced a smile that they didn’t buy at all. “I’m okay.”

“Clearly not. What happened?” Buttercup asked as they sat Blossom on the bed. “The party ended all of a sudden and no one knows why. Was it because of Brick?”

“No!” Blossom reassured her. “It wasn’t his doing.”

“Oh, then why are you upset? Did he not want to be with you?” Bubbles hugged her.

Blossom hugged her back. “No. He did. And I wanted to marry him too.”

“But?” Buttercup asked.

Blossom took a deep breath. “Mother decided that another man would be better for me, one that I don’t love. It’s a hard pill to swallow but I’ll be okay.” She tried to be strong.

“That’s not fair!” Bubbles weeped. “Blossy you deserve to be happy.”

Buttercups fists tightened at her side. “It's not.” She got off the bed. “Come on Bubbles, Blossoms had enough tears for the night.”

Blossom gave her little sisters a smile as they left.

♥♥

The next week was spent with Blossom walking slower than she noticed to her parents office. Her face was almost permanently puffy from the tears she had shed for the few days and neither of her parents had given any care. She was sitting at her mother's desk, silent and still. There was no reason to scream and run, hope had been lost.

“Look at that.” her mother quipped as she passed a piece of golden paper to her.

She picked it up and her blood ran cold.

‘An invitation to Princess and Brick’s wedding, how lovely.” Her mother smiled.

Blossom could see it now. The couple saying their vows and dancing the night away and she wondered if he had the choice to run away, would he? She had learned that Princess was an heir to more money this town had seen and quite beautiful too.

“She’ll make him happy.” Blossom lied knowing that she shouldn’t discredit his feelings. Afterall depth was what he liked most. “I wonder what’s that like?”

“What?”

“Happiness.” Blossom said. Her mother met her eyes. “Are you a happy mother?”

“Happiness comes in many forms.”

“And yet the only time I’ve seen you smile, is when it comes from the suffering of me or my sisters. You were given the sweetest little girls who offer nothing but unconditional love but instead of basking in their own light, you chose to block it out. I hope that when they are old enough, they never have to face the same life as mine.”

“You live in this gorgeous house-”

“With no heart or warmth. Vacant like a ghost town. How could you be proud of something so grand, yet broken at the seams? I am thankful for the upbringing on the fairer side of this society but I wish I had the love others have. Sometimes I wonder if a golden spoon is really worth more than a hug.”

Her mother stared coldly. “Do you think happiness gets you far in this world? Do you think that I spent years building up my reputation to be disrespected by my daughter?”

“There is no disrespect because I don’t see you as my mother and I would rather die tomorrow knowing I was in the presence of someone I love then spend the rest of my years, trapped to a man who could care less about my heart.” Blossom stood and grabbed the invitation and stood.

A cold dark laugh came from her mother. “Life isn’t a fairytale. You think that anyone would want to marry you out of love? Even if you are smart enough to know that, he’s going to wed by the end of the week. You have no money, and nothing to offer. What good would it be to beg?” Her mother stood and came towards her, arms stretched out. “Darling, just make life easier for everyone.”

Blossom took a step back. Her shoulder straightened up and she held her head high. “Thats where you’re wrong, mother. I can offer him my heart, something only I can give.”

“Love can’t give you everything.” She spat.

Blossom shook her head and offered a sympathetic smile. “I wish you knew that love can give you freedom and joy even with despair around.” She turned and began walking, her mother not bothering to follow or stop her.

♥♥

Blossom stared at her ceiling, a small white daisy in her hand as she tried to think of what to do. She hardly heard her door open and the shuffle of two sets of shoes.

“Bubbles, Buttercup? It's late, you should be in bed.”

“Shhh. Be quiet.” Bubbles smiled.

“You should go to him.” Buttercup said and Bubbles handed her a bag.

“He loves you and you love him Blossy!”

Blossom sighed. “I can’t just stop his wedding.”

Buttercup laughed. “Sure you can. Go in there and confess your love for him.”

Bubbles nodded. “Or you should meet him before. Run away with him, far from this place.”

Blossom looked between her sisters before they hugged her.

“We will be fine, please just go.”

“Okay.” Blossom agreed.

♥♥

Brick stood in the mirror. His suit was pristine and fit for any king and although he looked fine, deep down he was full of dread.

The moment Blossom’s parents called off their engagement, his own parents wasted no time looking for a suitor. Out of some convenience, Princess hadn’t been engaged and her father was loaded beyond belief that when the opportunity presented itself, his family jumped on it.

He didn’t know if he could ever truly love Princess and she probably wouldn’t love him but he knew there were worse things in life that could happen. Except for the heartbreak that came with the ring. His own brothers couldn’t get through to him and he felt hopeless. How do you go from loving someone, to never seeing them again?

There was a knock on his door and it made him shiver.

“Come in.” He said and the door opened just as soft as the knock.

He turned around to see Blossom standing there. A content look on her face as she looked him over, the desperation clear in her eyes. “You look nice.” She said and he could tell her voice was on the verge of breaking.

“What are you doing here?” He asked.

“To see you, one last time.” She said. She walked towards him and adjusted his skewed tie. “Or maybe not.” Her hands rested on his chest.

“Maybe not?”

She gazed at him with glassy eyes. “When they announced our engagement, I thought I lost any hope of freedom I had left. I thought that you would resent me for being chained to you and that's why I told you that you could leave. And I tried to tell myself not to fall in love because it wouldn’t be fair or it would hurt too much.” She stepped back. “But when I cried myself to sleep or stared at the moon until the sun came up, I realized that in those moments I tried to stop, I was falling faster than I anticipated.”

Brick watched as she took something from her bag. “I think I did too.”

She giggled at that. “When I read all those books about true love and how you see stars in the other person's eyes, I look at you and I see happiness and bliss.” Tears dripped down her cheeks slowly. “Even in the darkest corners of my house, I found indulgence and light with you.” Blossom said.

Brick brought his hand to her cheek, wiping the tears away. “I have spent years pondering these feelings. Wondering what else my parents could take from me. They could take my spirit and my time. Steal my childhood of playing in the creek or chasing the fireflies but Miss Blossom.” He took her hand. “They might have thought that forcing you upon as my wife without a moment of thought would be the cruelest thing they could do, but taking you away was pure anguish.”

Brick shook his head with a dry laugh. “It was the creek, when we had escaped for just a short while. When you stood on that ledge and jumped into my arms, I don’t know, I just couldn’t stop thinking about how your eyes sparkled when you stepped in the water and everything after that-” He stopped to gather his thoughts but she placed her hand on his arm.

“I know it’s selfish of me to ask you this as there is another waiting for you hand downstairs. Although I can’t give you the same welah or land she may be able to provide. I give you my heart and my faith. Every fragment of my being is dedicated to you and all I can ask is if you could accept that of me? If you could choose to follow your heart and give me the honor of loving you for who you are, would you?” She asked as she held out the small box that contained the golden band that was meant for him.

He looked up at her, pure adoration on his face as he kissed her hand. “I give my heart to you. The most suitable woman for me is not one with money or a legacy for her parents to uphold. But a kind and innocent lady who has a mind full of knowledge and dreams. On your command, I will take you far from this place, away from the criticism of our family and give you a life where you can run free and have every opinion of your very own. I promise that you will never spend another cold night wondering what lies beyond the paths of the forest and I promise you that I will love you, not because I am forced but because I choose to.”

“I choose you too.” She sobbed as he took her by the waist and kissed her.

He felt her smile against his lips and that same magnetic spark that came the first time they had kissed returned in an instant. Their kiss was more magical than the first snowfall of the season or that of a shooting star.

They pulled away and she saw the way his eyes looked brighter than they ever had before, like a new life had instantly sparked. He took her hand and threw off his tie.

“Come on, I know a place we can go.” He said with a giant smile.

Without gestation she followed him, leaving her past behind and welcoming the new warmth of her life. They ran from the back of the church to his parked car down by the field and he helped her in and kissed her again and again.

‘I love you.” She whispered in between his lips capturing hers.

“I love you more, Blossom.”

As the key sparked the car to life, and they drove to who knows where, she glanced at him and saw not only freedom, happiness and bliss but a man who loved her for every aspect of her being. Something no one could ever take from her again.

“Say Princess is going to be really pissed.” He laughed.

“I don’t think so.” She shrugged. “I told Jared that there was a hot rich girl at the church.”

Brick chuckled and slid his arm around Blossom’s shoulder. “That solves that problem.”

♥♥

Three months later

“Checkmate.” Blossom smiled proudly as she took the final piece. Normal Brick would scoff or playfully pout but instead the competitive side wasn’t showing.

He stared at her longingly as she began to set up a new game.

“It’s almost like you let me win.” She glared. “Is something wrong?”

Brick chuckled and shook his head. “No. everything is perfect.” He stood and walked over to her side of the table and kneeled down and took her hands away from the chess board.

“Brick?”

“You’ve always been better at chess then me. Even if we tied, I knew your strategy was beyond compare. However, no matter how many times you take my pawns or steal my queen, I already won.”

“You already won?” She questioned with a laugh.

She watched him reach into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. Its golden latch was opened to reveal a pink pearl ring. A gasp escaped her lips as he took out the ring.

“Blossom, there's not enough words or love stories to perfectly say how I feel about you. All I know is that I love you, on our own terms and see you as someone greater than the world knows. If you will do my honor, Blossom, will you marry me?” He asked.

“Of course.” She cried out and slipped the ring onto her finger as she grabbed his face and kissed him passionately. He smiled against her lips and lifted her up, carrying her to the small couch in their small home.

It wasn’t grand or had a ballroom. There was no elegant garden or parties thrown. Instead it was cozy and full of a loveable warmth. It rivaled everything they were taught, yet it gave them a happiness only the lucky could have.

“Hey.” She whispered. “I found something the other day.” She jumped up and grabbed his hand. He followed her to the backyard that seemed to stretch for miles.

The sun was high in the sky as they walked along the dirt path through some trees. Bushes of daisies and roses grew wild along the path and they stopped at the edge.

He looked down and his smile grew bigger. “A creek.”

She playfully hit his shoulder. “Just like old times.”

Brick found his way down to the bank, kicking off his shoes and throwing his shirt to the ground. He looked up at the ledge where Blossom was standing with sunbeams shining behind her. His arms extended and without thinking twice, she jumped and landed securely.

“Don’t slip” She mocked as he carried them to the water.

Brick laughed at her tone and gently set her down. His hands around her waist as they stared at each other. Pink and red complimented against the shallow water of the creek. He kissed her cheek and pulled the red ribbon, making the long trails of her hair blow free in the summer breeze.

“I love you.” He whispered.

“I love you more.” She responded and kissed him, her ring sparkling underneath the light.

She had spent all of her childhood reading books with the grand fairy tail ending. The ones every little girl dreamed of. For the longest time, she had stopped believe that they could be true. But as she stared into the eyes of the person she loved and cherished most, it was as if the stars had alined and the book she never thought would be written, was now opening with a brand new chapter of love and hope.

♥♥

I hope you enjoyed!!

asks/requests/commissions open!

#blossick #blossick fic #ppg x rrb #blossom ppg #brick ppg #ppg x rrb #thepowerpuffgirls #thepowerpuffgirlsfic #ppg fanfic #ppg fit #reds #angst #thewritingstar #thewritingstarcommissions #fanfic commissions

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skelebonecentral · 4 years ago

Text

Hothouse Rose chapter 6

Gotta get that last Fell boy into shape!

(words under cut) And remember, the pictures for the Lust boys are all six up on my main undertale blog.

Whip stared at his brother.

“AND TELL ME AGAIN WHY YOU’RE IN MY ROOM, GLARING LIKE I MELTED YOUR WHOLE SHOP?”

“cause ya ain’t actin’ like part of the family anymore and I wanna know why.” Spice was leaning back against Whip’s door, blocking all exit. “ever since baby doll came, you’ve been sulkin’ and hidin’ from’em and I don’t appreciate it. I know ya ain’t a coward, so what is it?”

Whip’s skull began to color in anger, standing to his full height, “BECAUSE THAT HUMAN IS NOT GOING TO LAST. I’VE SEEN THE HUMANS AROUND HERE, AND NONE OF THEM WOULD ACCEPT US IF THEY KNEW THE FULL EXTENT OF WHO AND WHAT WE ARE. THEIR URGES ARE TAMPED DOWN WITH IRON RODS AND CLOSED OFF EXCEPT FOR THE MOST TABOO AND PRIVATE MOMENTS. OR IN OPEN DISPLAYS IN THE SEEDY UNDERBELLY OF THEIR WORLD AND THOSE WHO PARTICIPATE OFTEN END UP DEAD.”

“I know that.” Spice was unmoved by this aggressive display. He was not afraid of his baby brother. “I’ve done my research on what gettin’ my shop going up here would entail, an’ it wasn’t pretty. but bro, just cause it’s private for them don’t mean they ain’t capable of openin’ up. just gotta work harder for it.”

Whip’s hands were gripped into fists, and even though he was looking down, Spice noticed his gaze was on the floor next to him, not on himself, “AND WHAT HAPPENS WHEN ONE OF THOSE FRIVOLOUS OTHERS FALLS FOR THEM? OR GETS THE INTEREST FOR A ROMP, HM? WHAT THEN?”

“apparently that already happened today. Boa. Baby doll got embarrassed but they’re still pals.”

Whip flinched hearing that, his glare getting more intense, “SO YOU’RE SAYING THEY AREN’T GOING TO TURN ON US? THAT I’M BEING RIDICULOUS?”

“no, I’m sayin’ you don’t need to try an’ protect yourself so hard.” Spice sighed and rubbed a hand down his face, “bro, you usually aren’t closed off like this with people you don’t trust. You’re good at making them think you like’em so they slip up. why are ya actin’ like a frightened cat? All puffed up and angry?”

Whip’s sockets were filling with red magic, “BECAUSE AT LEAST IF I KEEP THEM AWAY IT WON’T HURT HAVING TO LEAVE.”

“there’s the issue,” Spice walked over to where Whip was shaking in place, quickly putting his arms around him, “ya do like ‘em, then?”

“YES.” The answer was wet and miserable, “THEY’RE EVERYTHING PAPYRUS SAID, AND EVEN WITH SUGAR BEING CAUTIOUS, I CAN’T FIND A REASON NOT TO. SANS…” Whip slowly collapsed to his knees and held Spice tight, “I’ve…I’ve never been so close to someone who actually met my standards. They’re kind, and they care about our alternates, and they’re smart, and funny and beautiful and…Sans, I’m so scared to let myself go because we’re going to lose them.”

Spice rubbed his back gently, “I know, bro. but that’s why we gotta try an’ enjoy it, right? when we’re back in that shithole, we gotta have memories to get us through. Cause what good is it pushin’ away good things just cause they won’t last? Just means you spend more time bein’ sad than ya had ta.”

“I don’t know if my soul can take it, though,” Whip whined, hiding his sockets against Spice’s shoulder. “You know how lonesome it was at home and finding someone like y/n here…it’s not fair. It’s not fair that I found an angel and have to give them up.”

“y’know I understand that, probably better than most,” Spice gave his back a pat, making him let loose so he could sit down, “bro, I get it, but like I said, enjoy it while we can. cause once it’s gone, we ain’t gettin’ another chance.”

Whip sat next to him on the bed and leaned over, head on his shoulder, “You’re right, as usual, brother. I just…I’m used to causing pain, not feeling it. It’s difficult to manage.”

“yeah. but you can do it. I know ya can. cause I’ll be right with ya the whole time.”

After a while, just the slow hum of Whip’s computer and the breeze outside, Whip asked, “What did it feel like when you got to hold them, Sans?”

“real nice,” Spice purred a bit, “their whole body is soft, bro. hair, skin, hands, all pillows. Ehehe, they’d be mad if I said that to’em, though. they’re workin’ with their buddies and pap to get in shape. Spend half an hour outside every afternoon with’em in their leggings and sport top. Nice ta watch.”

Whip nodded, “And do they mind flirtations too much?”

“they’re gettin’ better about it, but you still have ta be careful how far ya go. don’t get all out explicit, but suggestive is fine. They actually shot one back at Sugar yesterday, even if it was kinda weak.”

“Good.” He took a deep breath and sighed as he let it out, “I’m going to try to amend my mistake of avoiding them, but it’ll take some time. Please keep me from making an ass of myself anymore.”

“I’ll try, but I dunno much about donkeys,” Spice quipped, only to get pushed onto the bed as Whip got up in irritation. “ehehehe, sorry, bro, but you walked inta that one.”

“I DID AND I HATE IT.”

You were in the kitchen, eating breakfast after waking up late on a rare Friday holiday when Whip walked in. Normally, he’d instantly walk back out looking frustrated, but today he stayed.

It was weird, and you watched as he walked to the fridge, got a bottle of a chocolate protein drink, and sat down near you.

“HUMAN, I….HMGH,” he started, picking at the wrapper on the outside of his drink till he could get the lit loose, “Y/N. I’VE BEEN…COLD TO YOU, TO SAY THE LEAST.”

“Yes.” Where is he going with this?

“I THOUGHT…WELL, I SHOULD EXPLAIN WHY. OR AT LEAST APOLOGIZE FOR IT.” He grimaced while he searched for the words, “I SIMPLY WAS AFRAID OF GETTING HURT WHEN OR IF WE SHOULD EVER PART WAYS. BECAUSE I HONESTLY…I’VE WANTED TO MEET SOMEONE LIKE YOU FOR A VERY LONG TIME AND IT MADE ME FEEL PANICKED. LIKE…FINALLY GETTING TO MEET YOUR FAVORITE CELEBRITY BUT AS YOU NEAR THE STAGE DOOR YOU BOLT. YOU’RE AFRAID THE REALITY WON’T LIVE UP TO THE DREAM AND IF IT DOES THEN YOU FEAR THE PAIN OF THE MEETING BEING OVER.”

That was not what you expected as his reasoning. Pride, specist thoughts, a general dislike of new people, something like that, but not…this. “I do understand your reference, but I’m still kind of shocked you’re even talking to me at all right now.”

“I UNDERSTAND.” He sighed, taking a long drink from his bottle. “I JUST WANTED TO…WELL, TO TRY AND FIX THINGS. I HAD TO ADMIT WHAT I WAS THINKING TO MY BROTHER AND THAT FINALLY GOT ME THINKING ABOUT…HOW UNFAIR IT WAS TO BE ANGRY WITH YOU FOR BEING YOURSELF. I HAD NO RIGHT, AND IT’S KIND OF STUPID NOW THAT I PUT IT IN WORDS. GOOD GRIEF.”

“How about,” you hold out your hand, smiling, “we start over? Hi, my name is Y/n. I’m Sans and Papyrus’ datemate and I’d like to stay in the house for the foreseeable future.”

He looked at your hand, then his shoulders relaxed and his sharp smile turned soft, “MY NAME IS WHIP, IT’S A PLEASURE TO MEET YOU AT LAST.” He shook your hand, “I’D BE HAPPY TO HAVE SOMEONE SO BELOVED BY MY COUSINS STAY WITH US.”

A pool of warmth dropped into your chest at the relief you knew was a mutual experience. You no longer had an enemy in your home, and the comfortable silence as you both enjoyed your respective sustenance was very rewarding.

“Sugar, please,” Charm rubbed his sockets, “I’m trying to plan a fun night out for us all, and your pessimism is ruining it.”

“no, I’m seriously worried. Have you not felt the energy change? Somebody’s doing something and it’s none of us.”

“I felt it and I know exactly what happened, but I’m not telling you because it’s none of your business.” Charm kept clicking from one page to another, looking at options.

“what?”

“You heard me. You do realize there is a loving trio in this house, yes? That it’s not just us and the others from similar universes?” Charm swiveled his chair and looked fully at his brother, “Sans, sometimes your anxiety makes you act like a prick.”

Sugar winced, deflating. “oh. yeah. guess I overstepped again.”

“Yes, you did.” Charm pushed his chair over and poked Sugar in the chest, “but I will remind you again. I love you. I want what is best for everyone here. And I am not some babybones who is naïve about the complexities of relationships. It’s just things are tilted differently here, and yes, that was hard to get used to, but it can be done. And besides,” He smiled, “We’re all going out for Halloween. I need to make sure we go somewhere fun since it’s Y/n’s favorite holiday and Papyrus’ birthday.”

Sugar sighed, “okay. okay, maybe you’re right. and sansy’s been trying to get me to lighten up too, so…” He sat on the floor before laying out like a star, “if sweet-pea can trust them enough to cuddle again, I guess I can try to, too.”

“Bully for you!” Charm smiled, going back to his computer. “And Sweet-pea will be here at the house with our candy bowl, so he will get a costume as well.”

“he’s actually going to greet the trick or treaters?”

“Yes! He’s been doing very well since he started opening up more.” Charm double clicked something and absently scanned the text that popped up, “He’s started sitting on the deck with us while we do our yoga and Sansy is seeing if he can set up video chat conferences with a therapist for him. Apparently, humans get this kind of anxiety too. It’s called agoraphobia.”

Sugar nodded, kind of surprised. Sweet-pea was going outside? Willingly? That was definitely a good thing, no arguing that, and…well, he was getting tired of being jumpy about the human all the time, if he was being honest.

You were a little shy about it, but Boa and Sweet-pea were both bustling around you in Sweet-pea’s room. They were re-taking your measurements to make sure they were accurate for your costume. You hadn’t had a good idea for a costume, but Papyrus had proposed it being a surprise that they chose for you. Sweet-pea had volunteered to make the design, and you’d been excited to see what he’d do. So far, he’d made you a nightgown that made you feel very ethereal any time you wore it, but he’d been too busy with commissions and orders to do anything else till now.

“I take a break every October,” he told you, sketching away, “it lets me have down time to recover and do whatever things I’d like otherwise.”

Boa was very fast with the measuring tape, barely touching it to your body as you stood in a shirt and shorts.

You felt the goosebumps going over your scalp as they worked, just like at the doctor’s office, and felt that strange far away feeling that went with them.

“Pumpkin,” Boa spoke, standing with his tape, “have you ever been fitted properly for your foundations?” He seemed puzzled as he looked you over. “I just want to make sure you’re as comfortable as you can be. Bad support can cause back pain, you know.”

You hadn’t known. “No, I haven’t. What would you have to do?”

Sweet-pea looked up, “just measure around your chest do some more close measurements of your pelvis area. It doesn’t take long. Last time he fitted someone it only took him two and a half minutes. But…uh… you will have to undress. Dunno if you’re up to that or not.”

Boa blushed, but nodded, looking away. “It’s up to you. You’re going to look ravishing either way, but it’s just been bugging me since we went shopping that first day. You deserve to be comfortable…”

It took a moment, as you thought it out. Two and a half minutes, hm? And you trusted them both, at least as much as you trusted the classmates you’d changed in the bathrooms with at choir competitions in high school. Quite a bit more, now that you’re thinking about it, “I think we can do it. It would be nice to know for my next shopping trip.”

Both of them perked up, and you steeled yourself as you undressed down to nothing. Boa’s eye lights shone bright and wide, and you saw the glow start at his throat, but he shook his head and smiled, “I’ll be quick. Thank you for letting me help you!”

True to his word, Boa went fast, around your chest, from your collar to your nipple, and around the area under your breasts. “That’s that, thirty-four triple d, Sweet-pea.”

“thought so.” The younger brother wrote it down somewhere on his sketch pad, but he was still going, “I know someone who would kill for that size for her bleach cosplays.”

You tilted your head and he smiled, “Somebody I know at home. She’s almost as bad as Alphys about anime, but likes JUMP stuff more.”

“Ah, okay.” You were focusing on anything other than Boa being between your legs with his tape, going quickly over your thighs, around your butt, and gently pressing the end of the tape to your core and going up a ways before snapping back and listing off his findings. “Well, that was fast.”

“three minutes. A little slower, but we’ve never measured a human before.”

Boa nodded and handed you your things, “We have everything we need to make you the best costume and find the best things on our shopping trips now.” There was blush on his cheekbones, and his smile was very soft, making your own cheeks heat more.

“Thank you for being fast with it. I’m not exactly used to being naked in front of other people.” You hurry to get your clothes back on, even as you hear something in an almost electronic voice. “Huh?”

Boa blushed, “Um, sorry. I slipped into Wingdings for a moment. I ah…I was saying we were lucky to get a glimpse at such a rare treasure as your body.”

Sweet-pea snorted and giggled, “that’s what he said literally, but wingdings is a monster language, so you don’t get any of the cute undertones and intents that went with it in English. you do look nice, though.”

“You boys are going to be the death of me. I’m going to die of flattery,” You had scrunched up your face from how hot it got, and huffed as you pulled your shirt back on, “and then Papy and Sans will be widowers.”

“You’d have to marry them for that,” Boa smirked a bit.

“smartaleck” you stuck your tongue out at him and walked to the door, “You’re both lucky I love you.”

“we love you, too, y/n.” Sweet-pea poked Boa, who just waved at you.

You shake your head and leave.

As soon as the door shut, Boa’s whole skull exploded in color and he jerked his scarf off as the jewel below burst into brilliant light. “Oh my stars, I’m going to keel over! Humans smell so different and it’s GOOD and they’re so amazing already and then just! Naked right in front of me! ack!”

Sweet-pea chuckled, blushing a bit, “they were lovely. And those hips….gosh, I know kids aren’t the end all be all up here but they look like they could carry so well…”

“I know!” Boa groaned, rubbing the heels of his hands into his closed sockets, “How does Papyrus just have them as his datemate and not keep them in the bedroom all day?”

“He’s just not turned like us, bro,” Sweet-pea sighed, “but I’m glad they’re at least happy with each other. You could smell him on them as soon as the layers came off.”

Boa finally seemed to calm down as the glow in his gem dimmed, “That was reassuring. Now we’re sure they’re not hurting themselves with repression or anything.”

“pretty sure it’s only us that need that regular release for health,” Sweet-pea mumbled. “humans don’t get heats, much less be in one all the time.”

“That still is amazing to me. And there’s so many of them even so! But then again, they are mammals that care for their young a long time. it’s only natural most of their offspring live.”

Sweet-pea laughed, “you should never have dropped out of zoology, bro. you’d have been a great professor.”

“I’ll be a better guardsman slash radio host!” Boa shot back, getting up. “Now, as soon as you have the design ready, bring it to me. We’re going to make the others drop their jaws to the floor.”

“and all in a human-friendly fashion. Gonna be fun,” Sweet-pea waved his brother off, and got down to work. He was going to make the rest of the world see exactly what Y/n was to their household.

Whip was uncomfortable. Not because he didn’t participate in the pillow cuddling normally, because he had before the human had come. No, it was because said human had chosen to sit beside him in the pile. He was still jumpy around them, even if he knew they were on much better terms after his apology.

It didn’t help that Spice was on their other side and snoring so loud he could hardly hear.

“MAY I PLEASE WAKE HIM UP TO STOP THAT RACKET?”

“No, Whip, don’t wake him. He’s actually not trying to fluster me when he’s sleeping,” says the human, looking fondly at Spice. Well, they did have a point. “Here, let me try shifting him a bit.”

Interested, he watched as you gently shifted Spice’s head back, and his brother’s raucous snores quieted to gentle, soft vibrations.

“HOW DID YOU DO THAT?”

“Snoring in humans is caused by some weird blockages in the throat. I figured, if he’s snoring because of his ecto always being on, maybe doing what helps a human would help him.” You continue to intrigue him in the most unexpected ways.

Boa had been almost giddy in his sexy nurse costume when he handed you a bundle on Halloween at noon, “Here, Pumpkin, it’s your costume. Go put it on, hurry!”

Sweet-pea was behind him, a very normal looking scarecrow costume decorating his form, beaming in pride, “if you need help, just holler.”

Curious, you went to back into your room (you’d been leaving it to ask about just this) and opened the bundle. A beautiful Grecian dress, creamy white with golden clasps, lay in a cloud of feathers with a set of very soft, cottony underwear. The ease with which those went on surprised you, and the lifting of the weight of your chest from your back made your eyes widen. “Oh.” Boa had been incredibly accurate in that the wrong underthings could make you hurt.

The dress slipped on, as did a pair of delicate sheer white hose, and some golden sandals. The feathers, you realize, are wings that loop onto the clasps on your shoulders and attach to the golden rope around your waist. You actually get them on yourself, and when you pick up the little harp and halo that were hidden underneath, you grin. “An angel, huh?”

Everything fit like a glove, comfortable but flattering as you exited and came down the stairs. Charm saw you first and gasped, “Oh! Sweetheart, that’s gorgeous, but here, come with me.” He had that sneaky look when he was going to try and goad you or Sans and Papyrus into doing something romantic, but instead of taking you to them, he took you to a room under the stairs that you’d never bothered to investigate. It was like a dressing room in a theater, with lights and make up and wigs of all kinds.

“Welcome to my studio! On of the things I learned from my bestie underground is that half of an outfit is made by your make-up. Let me take you from a ten to an eleven.” He sat you down and gently removed the golden circlet of your halo, setting it down on the vanity. “Now, monster make-up is a lot different than human in that it doesn’t take five hours to do! So, I’m going to turn you around, and in thirty minutes you’ll be the belle of the Halloween ball.”

You only had a brief glimpse of your reflection (thankfully) before the chair was turned and Charm got to work. Smooth, cool creams were dabbed onto your face by his clearly practiced hands, having taken of his gloves to do this. It was kind of hard to keep from laughing, as he’d already made himself up and was wearing a rainbow afro and a red nose on top of his pure white face, blue eye circles, and big red mouth decorations. He was a very colorful clown, and the first clown you’d ever been happy to see.

Charm had his tongue stuck out while he worked, and you just couldn’t help yourself. You reached up and poked it with your finger. “Boop.”

He squinted his sockets and made a short noise that sounded like laughter, then gently told you off, “Don’t boop the beautician, sweet thing. It’s not polite.”

“But you’re my bestie first,” you point out, and his smile grows.

“I know.” He brushes his teeth against your forehead gently, “Now let me work my magic, quite literally.”

You giggle quietly, and he hums, using a puff to place powder over the creams.

He then goes around you and gently begins coming through your hair, adding some things to it as well, “When this is done, sweetie, it’s going to just be you with some polish. You’re always this lovely to us, it’ll just be enough magic to let others and you see what we see every day.”

“Are you sure?” Yes, you’d been pleased with the little bit of change you’d seen in your clothes since starting your daily yoga, but you still felt…gross.

“Oh, I’d put my soul on it.” He squeezed your shoulder gently before returning to his work on your hair, “Papyrus and Sans think you hung the moon, Y/n. And I’d put money on Boa thinking the same. Sweet-pea trusts you more than he’s trusted anyone outside the family, ever. Whip even let his pride go and started to get to know you. That means something.”

“And you and Sugar? Spice?”

“Oh Y/n, I can’t even put into words what you mean to me.” His voice was so soft and full of love, you couldn’t even imagine what his expression was, “and my brother is slowly letting go of his fears. He’ll understand your magnificence when he does. “ A snort of wry laughter, “And Spice would have you be his own private teddy bear if it was up to him.”

You giggle thinking about that. Since he’d gotten over your mutual miscommunication, Spice had been the ultimate cuddlebug when he felt he could be. Which was most of the time. Not that you minded, he was warm, and the thick ecto he always wore was soft and comfy. Plus, you liked his voice. It was different than the others, like Whip’s in that it was gravelly, but smoother underneath, carrying a sweetness you liked.

“Let me paint your nails, and then we’ll be done.” Charm squatted in front of you and took a bottle of what looked like clear nail polish out. He thought for a moment, then nodded, a zap of pink magic infusing the bottle and turning the polish inside gold. “That should be the right color. A touch of Midas, hm?” He beamed at his reference, and you nodded.

You used the time to talk about a movie you saw once, of people trying to gain an item related to King Midas, and Charm suggested you find it online and the family could watch it next weekend. After all, after your group returned from the Halloween carnival, you all would be watching Halloween themed cartoons and family movies (because Papyrus, Sweet-pea, and Boa preferred not to watch horror films) while eating whatever candy remained after the trick-or-treaters.

Looking at your fingernails, not only were they shimmering as if they were covered in liquid gold, but they were perfectly shaped and the cuticles that were normally rough were smoothed down. “Wow! How did you do that with just polish?”

“It’s the magic in the polish.” Charm finished your toes and returned the brush to the bottle, “The polish is just there to change color according to my intent. I needed it gold, and I wanted your nails to be healthy and beautiful, so the magic did the rest. Even after we take the polish off, you’ll still keep the healthy nails underneath. Also, it’s instant dry, too.”

He looked you over one last time and nodded, “Alright, are you ready?”

When you said yes, he placed the halo back on your head and turned you around. You almost burst into tears right there. Your hair was laying around your face in elegant waves, framing it perfectly and without frizz for the first time in your life. And your face, it was exactly what Charm had said. It was you, but your skin was evenly colored instead of blotchy, the texture was smooth and uniform, every pore was clean and tiny. Your eyelashes and brows were present instead of faded out like they usually were, and all signs of the flaky dermatitis that had plagued you since your teenage years was gone from them.

“I’m…..Charm, you did…” you just looked over at him, the water dripping out of your eyes without you even blinking to free it. “It’s wonderful.”

“Just a little MTT Beauty Butter and the intent to clean and heal. The rest is all how your body naturally wants to be. It loves you, just as we do, and wants you to be happy and healthy. It just needed a little boost, now and again, is all.” He helps you to your feet, taking a nearby box of tissues and using them to gently dry your tears. “Now you can see yourself as the angel we know you are.”

You just hug him, far beyond words.

He strokes your head gently, waiting for you to recover before saying, “Now, we should get to the living room to meet up with the others and head for the carnival.”

You felt like you were walking on air as he led you out of the make up room and down the hall to the living room.

The banter had started already, “SANS, WHY DO YOU INSIST ON LAZINESS? IT’S OUR FIRST HALLOWEEN WITH Y/N IN THE HOUSE AND YOU JUST….THAT?!”

Entering, you saw Papyrus dressed as Superman, cape and spandex in red, blue, and yellow, and Sans was wearing a black, cat-ear headband taped to his skull, with black whiskers drawn on his cheekbones sloppily, all with his normal clothes.

Sugar, as a sexy witch, is standing with his broom in a corner, laughing behind his hand next to pirate-captain Spice, long coat sweeping his brown boots and black hat sporting a big maroon feather. Whip was dressed as a classic Devil, though he’d exchanged the red onesie for a bright red business suit. Boa and Sweet-pea were on the couch, chatting.

Charm cleared his throat and that got everyone’s attention, and you were feeling quite small as they all looked at you.

Whip’s eye lights went out, and you noticed a bright glow in the left leg of his pants. Oh no…oh no you’d made him uncomfortable. “I-I didn’t pick this out but…I’m sorry.”

Spice came over, taking your hands in his (where did he find all those rings?), “don’t apologize, baby doll. You’re beautiful. Sweet-pea an’ Boa done good. you too, charm, cause I know baby doll don’t do make-up like that.”

“Bu-but-“

“no buts,” Sans shortcutted next to you and beamed, “you look perfect. We’re going to be the envy of everybody. Though, as an angel, you probably don’t like that, do you?” He winked and you smiled. You couldn’t help yourself if Sans was making jokes.

Papyrus strode over and knelt in front of you, making everyone step aside for him, “AS A SUPERHERO, I WILL WORK VERY HARD TO DO GOOD, SO THAT I MAY GET VISITS FROM THIS UNEARTHLY VISION OF LOVELINESS AGAIN!” He was sparkling -literally-, cheeks flushed orange, as he looked up at you.

“Papyrus, you can see me anytime.”

“I KNOW, BUT YOU LOOK EXACTLY LIKE A MESSENGER FROM HEAVEN RIGHT NOW! THE PICTURE OF THE DELTARUNE’S PREDICTED SAVIOR!” He frowned and got up, “THOUGH, THAT ACTUALLY TURNED OUT TO BE FRISK, SO YOU’RE THEIR COUSIN. BUT STILL!”

Sugar flounced over in the short skirt and tights that were wrapped around his bones, “ooh, our little y/n has graduated from pretty to gorgeous.”

Charm rolled his eye lights, but Boa and Sweet-pea rushed over before he could fire back at his brother.

“Oh, Y/n, it’s absolutely perfect. I was worried about the top of the dress but it’s laying fabulously,” Boa cooed, proud of his work.

“you look just like I thought you would,” Sweet-pea gave a small laugh, “though, turns out real life is better than imagination in this case. Thanks, charm, for finishing off the look.”

“Oh it was my pleasure, believe me,” Charm actually honked his nose, revealing it to be a prop horn, “I might be a clown tonight, but I am a chivalrous guard first and helping our dear Y/n shine their brightest is the least I could do.”

You were blushing so hard, but Papyrus gently scooped you out of the crowd, “NOW LET’S GET GOING TO THE CARNIVAL. I WANT EVERYONE TO ADMIRE OUR ANGEL BEFORE THEY GET TOO FLUSTERED AND MUSS THEIR MAKE-UP!”

There was a murmur of agreement, and as you left the house, you waved goodbye to Sweet-pea, who was beaming as he closed the door.

#suggestive #reader x papyrus #reader x sans #underlust #lustfell #lustswap #undertale fic

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tysondabs · 4 years ago

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Forest Lawn Memorial Park (Hollywood Hills)

trigger warnings and contents: death/parental death, a cemetery visit, L.A. traffic, expensive whiskey.

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

If he was a smart person, Tyson would have known he could just google his father’s details and find out where he was interred from there. One simple google would have done it, but not being an internet-first person, he resorted to texting Angela instead. She was more than happy to give him the details, and mention in so many follow-up texts how happy she was he had decided to go see him. The knots in his stomach started then, something inside twisting at the way she said she was happy, proud, and that Johnny would be happy to have him visit, he was sure. There was a succession of emojis, hearts, flowers. The sailor knots twisted themselves tighter.

He set off the next day, somewhere between 2 and 3 on the drive. Had taken another day off at work, more sour faces from Lisa and threatening that he’d all but used up all his vacation days this year, but fuck her; he let any thought of her pass not to ruin the day, started his beat up, paint-chipped Honda civic and hit the road. Stone cold sober, nothing in his system but the black coffee he’d slammed back minutes earlier.

Cruising down Silverlake Boulevard, some familiar scenes until he left the familiar scenes for unfamiliar road, then merged onto the freeway. It was fine until he hit bumper to bumper traffic. Now? Midday? Fucking hell.

He hated driving in L.A. on the best of days, but now, without music, and the heat, and stopping every two minutes as the cars crawled up the drive, he was starting to get stir crazy minutes into the journey. At the next stop he pulled out his phone, checking notifications; a thought occurred to him, or rather, a desire. Maybe he could text Sasha. But he couldn’t picture a way to word ‘going to see my dad’ to her without it sounding fucking weird or stupid, so he tossed his phone to the passenger seat and continued driving (only to pull it back up again a moment later because he forgot he had the GPS going).

At some point, he got too engrossed in his thoughts, and missed the turn into Cahuenga Boulevard. Fucking hell, part two. Maps rerouted though, and after a very long roundabout, he was finally at a stoplight, opposite some weird building-slash-cottage. ‘Valhalla Entertainment’, the banner said, and that rang a bell (wasn’t that Jude’s kid’s name?). 14 years in this city, and he had absolutely no clue which part this was. Somewhere between the Hills, before or past the Hollywood Bowl, he rarely came here unless it was a party. The distractions had him nearly missing his turn into Barham, but he pulled it just as the light turned green, the odyssey getting longer by the minute and it would be a miracle, he felt, if he made it at all. At this point, there was an itch to just Fucking Get There, wherever ‘there’ was. He drove past a flower shop, contemplated stopping but decided against it. What good were flowers anyway, he had something better with him — a bottle of Four Roses bourbon, sitting passenger seat beside him. Johnny liked that one. Or so he thought. At any rate, there was a photo of him holding a bottle of it somewhere on the internet, one he looked psychotically happy in, that was burned into Tyson’s retinas.

He drove past a sign for Universal City, and then a building loomed large, the New York Film Academy building (that made no sense to Tyson, why would the New York film academy be here? In L.A.? It made no damn sense). This entire city was Hollywood, it ate the city up and swallowed it whole, chewed and then spit it back out. That’s what it did to people, at least the ones who came seeking something in the realm of fame, anyway. Everyone else in the city was stuck under its heel, suffering and poor. The rich elite and the hoods; night and day contrasts. He knew which part he belonged to, and would prefer it over anything fancy that this town had to offer because it was all a farce, all an illusion. Though he wouldn’t begrudge any of his friends chasing fame money and success. He had plenty of those, and he hoped they could navigate the labyrinths in this concrete maze better than many did. Better than his dad sure had.

Forest Lawn Drive creeped up on him as buildings thinned out and disappeared, he was close now, he could feel it. Before long, there was a large white building beside a brick church, and he was here. He stopped at Information, gave the coordinates he was looking for and they directed him. Straight up that road and it was somewhere in the middle, coordinates marked. The knots got tighter now as the boom barrier lifted and he drove into the cemetery. Thoughts narrow, throat dry. He pulled up to the right space, or what he thought was the right space. A piece of trivia fell into his head, remembering that Lemmy was buried here too. Maybe he’d snap a photo for Emma, if he could find it, if he could even remember. He followed the numbers as he slowed his car, looking out at names, gravestones marked in the ground in even rows. He stopped the car at the assumed right spot, parked it by the curb and killed the engine.

Now the hard part. In his stomach sat a lead pretzel. His breaths dug deeper and he thought of a girl with fair hair to try and bring himself out of it. It sure would’ve been nice if she was here, maybe he’d even be cracking jokes right now. He tended to do that in her presence, even when he was peak anxious and scared; like when they were boarding that plane. But there’s no one here, just him and his multiple personalities, the angry ones and the sad ones this time mostly. It was quiet up here, and he saw someone walking amongst the graves, and a caretaker not too far from that person. The church stood behind him down the slight incline of the hill, and everything else fell flat, in neat green rows. He thought of another girl, one from many years ago. She knew his deal, knew how he would get on this day, he’d told her as much. And when that day came around one time, she surprised him with a trip. They drove out of town to some peak overlooking the city, she’d packed a picnic, and made sure they had a day of it. That had been real nice of her to do.

He couldn’t sit here and rehash memories endlessly to avoid what he came for though, and Tyson got out the car, grabbing his trusty tin and the bottle of whiskey he’d brought with. The lead pretzel undid itself and became a slithering snake. Walking amongst the rows, he looked at names, family lots. Looking out for the right one. None of them were the right one. Angela had sent directions, but they were haphazard and not exact. Some five minutes passed this way, Tyson beginning to wonder whether he was in the right section at all, passing name after name, some sounding famous, some not. Some with fancy words the grave, or markings, and flowers left by them. He passed one with a shitton of flowers; either a recent or old Hollywood star. He came down one side and down the next row, starting to wonder if he should give up here and move on to the section directly below this one, maybe it was there she’d meant — when it caught his eye, the gravestone in the corner of an enclave, sitting flush with the earth.

John Robert ‘Johnny’ Dobbs. Beloved husband and father. 8/15/1964 - 4/27/2001 And when the winds carry you home, Remember who it was that sang your song.

There were bunches of flowers shrivelled up beside the grave, two sets of them. His throat felt heavy, scratchy as he stopped and kneeled before it, wondering who’d left them. It was hard to swallow now, impossible.

There was nobody around, but even had there been, Tyson didn’t think he’d let that stop him from doing what he did. He tried talking quiet at first, but maybe Johnny couldn’t hear him that way. Who knows how this thing worked. He took a tentative seat on the ground and crossed his legs, sighing. Looking up and squinting to the sky that still had a sun up high in it, still far from sunset, nowhere near it. A sheen of sweat showed on his brow between the parts obscured by his backwards cap. He frowned, and spoke to some space between the grass and the corner of the memorial stone.

“Well… I made it. I’m here.” Now that he thought about it, he probably should have come on his birthday instead. Because this…this was fucking depressing. The 20th anniversary. Twenty years it had been since he died in that hotel room all alone, and not since the actual funeral had he ever thought to come here. “I know I don’t…come here at all…ever…but I just wanted you to know I think about you…think of how you are…don’t even know if I believe in that heaven or hell shit, who knows…”

He tore out strips of grass that were beside him, and arranged them in a little, methodical pile. “Maybe this reincarnation shit is real and you’re out there somewhere…maybe on another planet. That would be cool. You were too good for this one anyway.” Rip, rip, more pieces of green to join the little pile he was making. “I wanted to…wanted to, uh, say something, actually.” He sniffled, not sure when his nose had started running, but it had now.

“I’m sorry.” He couldn’t finish the rest out loud but he thought it. I’m sorry for ever being mad at you, for throwing tantrums, for being a shit son. I’m sorry for pushing you away when you would come back because I thought you had left us. I know it wasn’t like that now. It wasn’t like that at all.

The tears rolled freely now, another unexpected surprise from the day. “Wish I could…I wish I could find the…” he shook his head, over and over, anger mixing into the rest of the feelings churning inside him, so much frustration, rage. That things even turned out this way. Had it not been for that, his dad could have been here, alive. Disappointing Tyson in the flesh and Tyson in turn disappointing him, but alive at least. “Fuckin’... kill them all…every last one…” He’d do it, too, no one could stop him. Not even the thought of a life in prison. “I know why you were the way you were, is all I wanted to say. Shit, I’m like that too. Maybe it runs in our genes.” He looked up like he was talking to someone, like there was a physical body here receiving his words, looking back at him. “Wish I could listen to your stuff too, because it’s good stuff. But I can’t…sorry.” There were people out there though, who listened, and still loved him, and had not forgotten him. He remembered the messages from fans he would get. That counted for something, at least. Maybe they could all listen in his place, since he could not. He knew Angela didn’t listen to his stuff either, and there was something to be said about that. At least he wasn’t alone feeling like this.

He picked up the bottle of bourbon he’d brought with him and twisted open the cap. Tipping it back, he took a big drink, quenching his thirst, feeling the burn as the liquor travelled down his system. Gasping for breath as he pulled back, he poured the rest over all the grass. Here, all for you, he thought, some dark amusement to that. Probably haven’t had a drink in a long ass time, huh? He stopped when he’d all but created a puddle of whiskey before him that was getting too large. One more sip stolen of his own, and he placed the bottle right side up next to his gravestone. “That’s for you.” Surprisingly, the knot was easing up, or maybe it was put on hold. Maybe this wasn’t too bad. Maybe he could do it again next year, or in the summer when it came time for Johnny’s birthday. Twice a year.

Tyson let out a long breath he had been seemingly holding in, cheeks puffing out, chest heaving. He started to feel sickish now, queasy. Maybe he needed a smoke. Yeah. His tin came out, the usual stash of two prerolls in it. He hesitated, then pulled the spare one out, placing it next to the whiskey bottle. “I know you never liked this shit dad, but give it a try yeah?” he said, like he was persuading Johnny to change his mind on Tyson’s drug of choice. At the same time, lighting the other one he’d brought with him. “Don’t know what kinda shit you had back in the eighties, but this is good stuff. Promise.” God, he was going crazy, fully lost it out here, smoking a joint and talking to a gravestone. A fucking joke. But nah, it wasn’t him, it was the world that was a joke, and he was just fine.

He stayed some time longer, until he’d smoke down the joint to the end, the buzz it offered providing some sort of calm to his frayed nerves, definitely making everything better. In a weird twist of events he felt hesitant to leave now, but eventually he did, getting up, dusting himself off. Crossing eyes with a woman across the lot as he did, somewhere in a not-so-far off distance. He wondered if she was visiting someone, but her husband joined her, photo camera in hand and it became quickly apparent they were tourists. He felt some kind of bile about that, the temptation to cuss them out as he walked past high, but he resisted.

Fucking tourists.

Back in his now-overheated sat-in-the-sun-too-long car, he rolled the window down all the way, and breathed a long, relieved exhale again. His head went to the steering wheel as he tried to collect himself, pick himself up from what just happened. He was in a state but coming out of it, slowly, gradually. That hadn’t been too bad. He forgot half the things he’d wanted to say, but maybe he would think of them again on the drive back, write them down somewhere and then say them when he was back here again. If there was anything he wished for after all, it would be more time with Johnny. And Angela. He’d make a point to go back to Texas if it meant driving for two days. Alone. It was the tradeoff for spending time with his family, what he had left of it anyway, because in the end, that’s all you had, wasn’t it?

Talking himself through and down some weird freakout episode wasn’t easy, but gradually, in this hot ass car that wasn’t getting any cooler, he somehow cooled down himself. Then he pulled out his phone and dialled a number.

#self para #ft. johnny dobbs #death tw #parental death tw #grieving tw

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cinnaminsvga · 5 years ago

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💋 | tlhc!yoongi

the sleep deprived series (n.): drabbles that i write when i’m sad and tired

→ tlhc!yoongi ft. jungkook | 3.5K words → a/n: this was written after an anon sent me a REALLY angsty idea for tlhc and i haven’t stopped thinking about it since. also, this takes place after namjin’s wedding but before yoongi and y/n get together (in this drabble, they’re “dating” but i say that loosely because... well. they’re fucking yoongi and y/n so OFC they’re stupidly, emotionally constipated). anyway... here’s This!! rip!!

Yoongi knows he’s being childish when he leaves your shared apartment with a large pout on his face. He knows that if he just tried a little harder, he could’ve convinced you to let him stay at home instead of going to some godforsaken bachelor party. He hasn’t been to a party involving body shots and strippers since he graduated from university, and he isn’t exactly keen on returning to that particular scene either. He has always been a more wine and dine type of guy, and everyone is aware of this.

It’s a well-known fact amongst his circle of friends that Min Yoongi isn’t keen on attending most types of social gatherings. Birthdays, weddings, anniversaries, casual get-togethers… It didn’t matter what the occasion is because Yoongi is certainly going to hate every second of it. It didn’t even matter if the party was being hosted by a long-time friend; after all, sitting in a room filled with half-strangers and estranged friends isn’t exactly what Yoongi would consider a “fun time.”

It doesn’t stop people from inviting him out of courtesy, though.

Most of the time, Yoongi is able to grit through the pain of human interaction as long as you tagged along with him. You’re kind of like Yoongi’s walking meat shield when it comes to parties, though you aren’t exactly fond of his analogy when he had explained himself to you. Nevertheless, you always did understand him better than anyone else, always being his savior from awkward small talk by redirecting the conversation away from him. Or, you would quietly tug him outside to the backyard so that the two of you could pet the party owner’s dog or something.

Truly, what would he have done without you?

“I still don’t understand why you expect me to go to this party alone. You’re practically feeding me to the sharks,” Yoongi whines, not at all immaturely. He can hear your exasperated sigh through his phone speakers, though he imagines that you hadn’t been aiming to conceal your ire in the first place.

“Yoonie, it’s Jungkook’s bachelor party. You heard what that dweeb said: ‘No girls allowed’ or some shit. Like some sort of toddler. I’m surprised he even asked you to attend.”

“Are you implying that I should be barred entry because of my feminine hips?” Yoongi asks, hopeful. “Cause honestly, I was only kinda offended when Jungkook said I had twink-sized proportions, so I mean…”

You scoff, though Yoongi can imagine you shaking your head with tired fondness. AKA, your default mood towards him on most days. Yoongi doubts that fondness is going to help him convince you to let him get the fuck out of this party, though. “Save it. You’re going to that party or else.”

Yoongi sniffs, offended. “Honestly, you should be the one going instead of me. I’m not as close to that pussyboi as you are.”

“Hey, only I’m allowed to call him that,” you chide. “Besides, you already left the house. I don’t understand why you’re calling me in the first place. It’s almost 8PM and you should be at the restaurant by now.”

It’s true. Yoongi is literally already in front of the restaurant where they all agreed to meet before heading out to the “main event,” or whatever the hell that means. It could only end badly; after all, Park Jimin had been the one to organize this shitshow of a bachelor party. Things will not go in Yoongi’s favor tonight if Jimin can help it.

“I’m only here because you threatened to disfigure Kobe Bryant-sunbaenim! That bobblehead is limited edition!” Yoongi has the strongest urge to stomp his feet, though he restrains himself only so that the hostess by the entrance of the restaurant won’t call the manager on him (again.) He is nearing his 30’s for fuck’s sake! Then again, Seokjin is a year older than him and if Yoongi’s future is anything like his, he shudders to think what might become of him.

“Yoonie,” you say, voice steely and quiet. Uh oh. You’re getting genuinely angry by now, and Yoongi knows he’s pushing your buttons to their limits. However, he wouldn’t be doing it otherwise if he really didn’t want to go to this party. He hates disappointing you, but nothing on this planet could ever make him want to go through those mahogany doors and face that bucktoothed loser with stars in his googly eyes.

Yoongi sighs, rubbing the back of his neck tiredly. “I know, I know. I’m being childish. It’s just a party and I should just endure it. Although, I’m not promising that I’ll even try to pretend that I’m enjoying it. That’s beyond my paygrade, I’m afraid,” Yoongi says, picking his hangnails as he gazes at the entrance of the restaurant. The hostess’ left eyebrow twitches slightly, a forced customer service smile on her lips. Yoongi feels a sudden sense of strong camaraderie with this stranger.

“I was just gonna say that if you really can’t stand the party, then I’m allowing you an out. If you can stay there for at least two hours, then you can leave once you’ve––“

You hardly get to finish your sentence when Yoongi cuts you off, a strangled sob of relief escaping his throat. “Oh, thank you, my goddess! You are truly the apple of my eye; I shalt never speak ill of you no longer! You are heaven incarnate, my fair and beautiful mistress, the sun who has chased away the darkness––“

“Shut the fuck up, court jester,” you say, endearment dripping like honey off of your words. But Yoongi is already smiling ear to ear, hopelessly warm for some reason. If Hoseok had been around, he would have gagged at the sight of the two of you.

We’re so whipped, Yoongi thinks idly to himself.

“Now go say hello to Jungkook for me, will you? And please, if either he or Jimin do anything stupid or illegal, try to hold them back a little, okay?”

“Nope, I don’t think so,” Yoongi says, before promptly hanging up. Before he pockets his phone, he texts a short “ily” just in case he actually might have pissed you off. Either way, that will be a problem for future Yoongi to figure out.

Just as he ended the calls, a muffled crash and what sounds like a hyena being forced down a trash compactor from inside the restaurant echoes ominously through the open streets. Yoongi and the hostess hardly flinch at the cacophany, both of them staring glassily at the smoggy South Korean sky with quiet acquiescence.

“Fuck me,” Yoongi says. “Fuck me, indeed.”

*.*.*.*.*

The party is as terrible as Yoongi had imagined. Scratch that––Yoongi doesn’t think his imagination is capable of conjuring such a nightmarish scene. He’s pretty sure at least 99% of the inhabitants of this strip club were doing something slightly to moderately illegal. Case in point:

“Jeon Jungkook, I don’t think you should be doing that,” Yoongi yells over the discordant noise that the DJ is trying to pass off as “music.” Jungkook pauses in his ministrations to turn to face Yoongi, which is a feat in itself, as it appears that Jungkook’s eyes were facing opposite directions. Yoongi chooses to maintain eye contact with his left one.

“Whaaa? Why not, coconut?” Jungkook giggles at his little rhyme at the end, but his laughter sounds garbled, probably hindered by the amount of saliva pooling inside his mouth.

Yoongi points at his hands. “Jungkook. I’m pretty sure that is not salt that you are pouring over your fries.”

It takes a few moments for Jungkook to register anything that Yoongi had said. In fact, Yoongi doesn’t think he registers them at all; Yoongi has to forcefully take away the soiled plate of “mystery powder fries” away from him before Jungkook even realizes anything is going on.

“Heeeey, getchur own food, boomer!” Jungkook whines, making grabby hands at the plate before flopping pathetically onto Yoongi’s lap. Yoongi, ever the gentleman, pushes the younger off until he tumbles off the side of the booth and into a mysterious puddle spilled by one of the scantily clad “mechanics.” Jungkook, to his credit, gets up back onto his seat with some semblance of grace (which is to say, he managed to get his ass onto the couch without any additional injury.)

“I can’t believe I’m literally at a glorified children’s party. And I thought babysitting Namjoon’s little demon was bad enough,” Yoongi groans, grimacing in disgust at the mystery liquid from the floor oozes gently down the side of Jungkook’s face. “Dude. Wipe your fucking face.”

Jungkook, known laundry-fanatic and clean freak extraordinaire, promptly takes off his pristine white shirt and uses it to dab his face away. After which, he throws it somewhere behind him, right into a circle of twinks who proceed to fight over who gets to keep it. “Better,” he mutters, same dopey smile on his face.

“Just 1 hour, 18 minutes and 34 seconds left, Yoongi… I can do this,” Yoongi says through clenched teeth. He takes a deep breath, counts to ten, tries to remember what his therapist told him to do when he’s slowly losing his grip on reality. Then, Jungkook throws up all over his new leather shoes.

“Hyung,” Jungkook mutters sleepily, head lolling like he’s about to drop dead in a second. He grins dopily at Yoongi, a string of saliva dripping down the side of his cheek. “I think I’m sick.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” And so, like the kind person that he is, he drags Jungkook by the armpits, dodging sweaty strippers and drunken guests alike as he tows the younger to the nearby restroom. Yoongi contemplates bringing Jungkook to Jimin to take care of him instead, but that idea is completely dashed the moment he sees the latter drinking shots as if it were water. The risk of having two people vomit on his shoes in one night would have been extremely high, and Yoongi isn’t an idiot. So he takes the idiot draped across his back to the toilet himself.

The restroom is empty when they arrive. When Yoongi slams the door shut, it becomes shockingly quiet as the noise from outside gets dulled to a soft throb. Yoongi immediately dumps Jungkook against one of the chipped porcelain sinks, grimacing slightly when the younger causes the sink to groan precariously from his weight.

“Hyungie,” Jungkook warbles. The sweat on his brow has made his bangs stick to his forehead in strange patterns, and Yoongi imagines he could rearrange his hair to spell out “SHITHEAD” if he so desired.

“What.” Yoongi grabs a handful of paper towels and proceeds to try (and fail) to clean the carnage on his shoes. Meanwhile, Jungkook just stands there quietly, spit long since dried on his face, adding to the sheen already there. The quietness of the restroom is both jarring and awkward compared to the insanity just behind the door, and Yoongi finds himself preferring to look at his black-turned-brown shoes instead of the boy standing just to his right.

“I think I overdid it,” Jungkook admits after a while. Yoongi chances a glance upwards before looking back down at the floor, uncomfortable when he sees the surprisingly sober face of a man who had just finished drinking ten tequila shots.

“You think?” Yoongi snorts, rolling his eyes. He inches forward towards the sink, gently nudging Jungkook out of the way to wash his hands. Jungkook has still yet made a move towards the faucet himself, but Yoongi isn’t about to offer to clean him up either. He’s already a Samaritan for bringing him to the restroom; he’s used up all his empathy points for today.

“Y/N and Tae always say that I have severely low impulse control.”

True to form, Yoongi’s traitorous ears perk up at the mention of your name, and he finally makes full eye contact with Jungkook through the mirror. “It took two people and ten tequila shots to figure it out? Geez. No wonder you almost didn’t graduate kindergarten.”

“Hey, I told you that in confidence,” Jungkook pouts.

“Not my problem,” Yoongi retorts, indifferent. Yoongi stares at him for a moment. “Jesus. You look like a fucking mess. You sure you’re getting married next week?”

“I’m pretty sure, unless Taehyung changes his mind,” Jungkook shrugs. Well, that was certainly not quite the answer Yoongi was expecting. Yoongi must not have been quick enough to hide his surprise because Jungkook laughs coldly, the sound mirthless and paper-thin––not at all like the ridiculously mirthful manchild he’s always known him to be.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet?” Yoongi had meant to say it like a joke, but his harsh tone doesn’t escape his own ears. God, he wishes he was better at this, but sue him for lacking practice at consoling other human beings.

Luckily, Jungkook takes it in stride, shrugging his shoulders. “Not really. More like… I’m in disbelief? That he’d actually… after all this time…”

Yoongi doesn’t reply at first. For as long as Yoongi has known him, the elder has never quite connected with Jungkook, for whatever reason. Hearing him speak so candidly about his feelings like this is new territory for Yoongi, and it’s strangely making him nervous. He feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand at attention as he is faced with a side of Jungkook that Yoongi didn’t think he was capable of having. Sure, you’ve told him vaguely about the problems that Jungkook has asked advice about, but never has Yoongi ever thought that he’d be doing the same. The two of them just weren’t… like that.

“I’m sure Taehyung likes––no, loves you. A lot. Anyone with eyes can see that he absolutely adores you,” Yoongi says after a while, coughing awkwardly into his fist. God, he sucks at this. Where are you when he needs you? You always knew what to say in moments like this.

Jungkook laughs again, and it’s just as discordant as the first. He shakes his head, empty smile on his lips. “It’s not that. I don’t doubt him in the slightest. It’s more like… I’m doubting myself.”

Now that catches Yoongi’s attention. Self-doubt, loneliness, fear: if Yoongi had to be an expert on anything, it would be for those three. He… he gets it. “Jungkook, if this is about feeling like you don’t deserve him, then you’re dead wrong. You’re allowed to be loved, Jungkook. Believe me, I know more than anyone what denial feels like. The two of you aren’t going to crash and burn, okay? You’ll be fine.”

Jungkook smiles wryly at that. “Thanks. But it’s not… it’s not that.” Jungkook pauses, and it looks like the words get caught in his throat. He opens his mouth, closes it. Grimaces like he’s swallowed something bitter. He takes a deep breath, looking as uncomfortable as Yoongi feels. “Yoongi-hyung, I have a confession to make.”

Now Yoongi’s confused. “What?”

“I haven’t been… candid. With you. About…” Jungkook takes another shaky breath. “About me and Y/N.”

Yoongi’s blood runs cold. He feels the sweat start to form across his palms, and he clenches them into fists to stop them from shaking. He can almost sense the disaster before it even hits, feels the floor swimming underneath his feet, waiting to devour him whole.

“What?” Yoongi repeats.

“I’ve been thinking about it, recently. It’s been years since I last even remembered it, but then it started plaguing my dreams, and it’s… It’s ruining me. I need––I need to come clean or else I might die with regret,” Jungkook says. Yoongi still doesn’t understand what he means; Jungkook is just saying words without saying anything at all, and it’s making the wait even more terrible.

“Kook, just spit it out already.”

“Hyung, I beg of you. Please don’t think badly of me but…” Jungkook slumps to the floor just then, both the sink and his legs unable to keep him up any longer. Against his will, Yoongi tumbles with him, compelled to follow him down.

“What? What? What?”

“I kissed her,” Jungkook murmurs, voice low. Whispered like a secret. Because it is a secret, even though it isn’t any longer. Not when the words have crawled out his mouth and into Yoongi’s ears, making its way to his brain where it refuses to be understood, to be processed.

“What?” Yoongi can’t seem to remember how to breathe, much less how to speak. He can’t say anything else except, “What?”

“N-not recently. A long time ago,” Jungkook hurries, fear crossing his face when he realizes how he must have sounded. “I would never cheat on––Y/N would never cheat on you––“

His words do nothing to quell the thunderous beating in Yoongi’s chest. He can only stare as the younger jumbles over his words, fat tears starting to dribble out of his eyes like waterfalls. Why is he crying? This is so wrong.

“We––when you broke her heart, all those years ago. Before she ran away to Daegu––“

Yoongi remembers. Of course he does. He doesn’t think he can ever forget.

“––she was so so sad, and it fucking hurt. It hurt seeing her like that, you know? I… I hated you for it. So much, hyung,” Jungkook sobs, hiding behind his hands. He wipes at his face, smearing his sweat, tears, and vomit with shaky movements. “And then she kissed me but it was a mistake because she was heartbroken and she just wanted to feel––to feel something? I don’t know… And then I pushed her away––“

“You pushed her away?” Yoongi interrupts, uncharacteristically calm. He thinks like he should be screaming, maybe. Or feel jealous, even. But then again, this had happened years ago, when you and he hadn’t even been… anything, at the time. Hell, he has no right to be hurt by this. He shouldn’t even be allowed to resent Jungkook for it. Shouldn’t have to feel like he won’t be able to forgive Jungkook. So then why is he..?

Jungkook nods. “I-I did, but that’s not… the whole thing. For a while, I thought that maybe…” He curls into himself, bowing his head in shame. Yoongi doesn’t need to hear the rest to know what he was about to say.

“You used to love her, didn’t you?”

Jungkook nods again, ashamed. Disgusted with himself. “Pathetic, right?”

But the thing is, Yoongi already knew this. You’ve told him about Jungkook’s misplaced affections for you; it had happened during a stressful time for the both of you, and you had assured Jungkook that his feelings were just a figment of his imagination. You believed that Jungkook had just been lonely, desperate for someone to cling onto especially after all that drama between Taehyung and Hoseok at the time.

“She kept telling me that I wasn’t in love with her. And for a while, I believed her. But then, when she was about to leave for America, we… we kissed again. Just to… I wanted to make sure,” Jungkook slams his fist onto the dirty restroom floor, clawing at the tiles like an animal in pain. It’s getting harder for Yoongi to understand Jungkook through his sobs, but he is afraid of even moving lest Jungkook stops speaking. It’s like watching a car crash––no matter how much Yoongi is afraid, he can’t look away.

“When we kissed the second time... She laughed. I laughed. ‘No spark,’ was what she said. I agreed because I had no other choice but to,” Jungkook admits. He exhales like his chest has been ripped open, like he’s drowning. Yoongi feels the same way.

“It would be unfair if I said anything. To her, to you, to Taehyung… but most of all, to myself. Because it would never work. It’s not… I’m not...” Jungkook coughs, trailing off. He hacks his lungs out, forehead banging against his knees from the force. He heaves for air once, twice. Then, silence.

“Jungkook?” Yoongi whispers, momentarily stunned. When the younger doesn’t reply, he nudges his shoulder. No movement. Yoongi tilts his head upwards, only to find Jungkook’s eyelids already closed and breathing steadily through his nose. The bastard had finally passed out.

“Jesus,” Yoongi sighs, letting go of the younger and letting him crumple to the floor. Yoongi contemplates passing out as well. “Jesus,” Yoongi repeats.

He sits there in silence for a while, accompanied only by his thoughts and the muffled sounds of the party outside. He doesn’t know how long he sits there for, only thinks to leave the restroom when a young couple (Jungkook’s college friends) burst in while making out, both incognizant of the odd pair slumped on the floor.

Yoongi leaves Jungkook there, but not before sending a short text to Jimin to go check on Jungkook, and sending another one to Taehyung for good measure. Yoongi rushes out of the club without looking back, feeling slightly more empty than he had before the night started.

You don’t comment when Yoongi comes back home earlier than expected. You don’t even scold him for breaking his side in the agreement. Wrapped up in blankets in front of the TV, you wordlessly open up your cocoon to let him slither in beside you, allowing him to wrap his cold feet against your legs. You don’t even complain when he falls asleep without another word, just gently caressing his hair as he descends into fitful dreams. He doesn’t bring up the party the next day, and neither do you.

The following week, the two of you attend Taehyung and Jungkook’s wedding.

#btsboulangerie #bts scenarios #yoongi x reader #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #bts #bts imagines #bts angst #min yoongi #yoongi scenarios #yoongi imagines #yoongi angst #bangtan #the sleep deprived series

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