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lubdubsworld · 3 years

Text

City Lights . ( Namjoon x OC)

Pairing : OC x Kim Namjoon.

Genre : Angst. Romance.

Rating 18 +

Word Count : 2900

Warnings : Mature Themes , Explicit Sexual Content . Slow burn. Like slower than a snail.

Summary :

Widowed and destitute, Son Yang Mi leaves the comfort of her small , secluded fishing village and travels to the intimidating city of Seoul with her young son. She has a plan, one that involves finding a job, getting her son into a good school and building a life for herself.

Now, three years later she has a job , working as a live in house keeper for the Kim family, specifically for the son, Kim Namjoon, a famous rapper and producer.

Its a job that puts a roof over her head and she’ll do anything to keep it.

But fate has other plans.

Chapter 1 ~

Akogare (ah-koh-ga-reh)Often translated directly as a sort of frustrated “yearning”, “desire”, or “longing” .

Seoul in summer was a sight to behold. I blinked back against the bright sunlight, staring out into the stunning skyline of the city as the sun rose over it , and although it was just a little past seven in the morning, the air was warm and invigorating. The mid July sun shone down with no mercy, and there was no trace of the rain that had lashed city just the previous night.

It had been three whole years but the relief that came from breathing fresh air, untainted by the damp musk of fishing trowels and sweaty men, was still unrivalled.

I shook off the feather duster in my hand, moving to carefully clean the wicker woven chairs on the artificial lawn in the balcony. Dusting the entire condo down was a mind numbing exercise in patience, so i tried to get it out of the way, early in the morning when my son was still asleep.

At six years old, Junsu was a bright , happy child. Summer vacation meant days sleeping in and evenings spent frolicking with the other kids in the building and he was content with being alone in our small shared room, reading or playing with his toys while I went about the day’s work.

I glanced at the clock, grimacing.

It was almost eight . And although Mr. Kim wasn’t due back home for another twelve hours, I felt a little jittery and nervous.

Kim Namjoon , renowned rapper, producer, writer , poet and what not. The apartment was his but he was usually on tour, traveling all over the world to promote his book and to perform in sold out stadiums. For an A list celebrity, he was surprisingly humble.

For the past three years, him and his model fiancée Lee Mina had spent a total of maybe seven months in the condo. They were a sweet couple, or so I’d always thought , a bit formal with each other but clearly in love . Mr. Kim was a kind, soft spoken young man and I’d never heard him raise his voice unless he was in the company of his very dear friends.

Just a little over a week ago , both of them had left Korea for the States , the tabloids screaming about a luxurious destination wedding in the Caribbean and I had been asked to take a few weeks off . The newly weds wouldn’t be back for quite a while and they would let me know when I had to come back to the condo.

I’d been toying with the idea of visiting my in laws in Gwangyog, maybe even dropping by to see some old friends there but yesterday , Mr. Kim’s mother had given me a call letting me know her son was coming home.

[

The conversation went something like this :

Yang Mi, I hope you haven’t left yet?

No, Ma'am, I haven’t.

Joon-ah is going to be back tomorrow.

Oh, is Ms Lee arriving as well?

No, Just him He’s going to be alone.

Yes, Ma'am.

Please don’t mention anything about Mina or the wedding.

No ma'am of course not.

I’ll drop by later . Cook him something warm and filling. And make sure the house is cleaned well.

Yes, Ma’ am.

]

And that was that.

~~~~~~

It took the better part of the day to finish cleaning and setting up the house . I washed the window slats, changed the sheets, arranged the books that had been left scattered all over his bedroom. The walk-in closet was littered with a bunch of his clothes and I made sure his gym bag was stocked with fresh towels, spare clothes and his favorite head and wrist bands.

For someone so careful and calculated, he was really quite a messy man.

i did his laundry, making sure he had ample clothes at least for another two weeks, creasing the handkerchiefs and carefully removing lint from his jackets.

I also carefully sorted out the feminine clothing from the laundry and from the cupboard, folding them neatly and placing them in the lowest shelf of the closet, where he wouldn’t find them. It wasn’t hard, hiding traces of his fiancee from the condo, because it had never really been her home. other than a few spare pieces of underwear and a couple of t shirts and skirts, there weren’t many articles of clothing belonging to Ms. Lee.

But I still got rid of the bobby pins and hair ties, the spare lip gloss and mascara.

Junsu spent the entire day in our room, reading and drawing, only venturing out every few hours to grab a snack. I left him with his drawing tab ( a gift from Mr. Kim for his 5th birthday ) and his favorite book, asking the security guard at the end of the hallway to keep an eye on the door, while i went out to buy groceries.

Lots of meat, no sea food, healthy snacks and high protein fiber bars. I stocked up on sauces and bought a fresh batch of eggs, oranges and grapes . Mrs. Kim had sent a large amount of kimchi a few weeks ago and that was still in the pantry.

i stopped for a second, staring around at the almost deserted store. Most of the other housekeepers shopped at the bigger, more exclusive store on the other side of the residential complex. But Mr. Kim had a very selective palette, which meant that I had to be very particular about the brands i bought.

When i came back home at around six, Junsu was on the floor in the living space and i felt my heart jump in panic.

“Baby!! I’ve told you not to come out here when I’m not home!” I protested bleakly and he pouted.

“I need to show you my gift for Mr. Kim!!” He said softly. I smiled moving to put away the groceries and glancing at the clock. It was a little past six. I had to call Yungyu.

“Did you draw him something ? “ I asked curiously, checking to see if the beer shelf was stocked. probably should have done that before going out for the groceries, I thought regretfully.

“Yeah! Look!!” Junsu held his tab out and my heart dropped.

For a six year old, Junsu drew very well. And there was really no mistaking the very obvious wedding scene on the screen.

Oh, Good God.

“ That looks amazing honey.” I said gently. “ But, I heard that Ms Lee isn’t coming over this time..”

Junsu frowned.

“Why?”

“Well, I’m not sure. But remember how we spoke about saying the right things? When something upsets someone, we do not bring it up.” I reminded him gently. My son hesitated but nodded.

“Okay. I’m sorry. “ He said softly.

“No baby, its not your fault. It’s just that we want Mr. Kim to be happy right? We don’t wanna upset him...”

He smiled at that.

“When he’s happy, his dimples come out.” He said with a giggle. I laughed.

“yes they do... So let’s try and get those dimples out as often as we can alright? Why don’t you show him that picture you drew of yeontan the other day? He’ll really like that....”

“Okay...but i need to go color it!” Junsu yelled, already running back into our room. I watched him go before reaching for the phone and dialing, Yungyu, the chauffeur.

“Are you on the way here? ” i said briskly.

“Just starting from home...” Yungyu muttered, “ I’m supposed to be on vacation now! Why is he coming back so soon?”

“Just hurry up !! We can’t keep him waiting!!” I said sharply, before hanging up.

I made a quick check of all the rooms, filling up water bottles for his gym routine in the morning and stashing them in the fridge before moving to get dinner started.

i set the water on boil for the stew, before moving to peel cucumbers for the salad. I chopped the cucumber , along with some fresh cherry tomatoes . I watched the water boil, thinly slicing an onion and adding it to the bowl as well. The dressing was pretty simple, soy sauce, rice vinegar, honey and sesame oil . I sprinkled some sesame seeds on the bowl, used the salad tongs to give the whole thing a nice toss and set it aside.

I braised the chicken first , peeling and chopping potatoes and carrots to add to the stew . In a few minutes, the rich smell of lightly spiced chicken and garlic and perilla leaves began filling the kitchen and I turned on the rice cooker as well.

The door bell rang at six forty and i opened the door to reveal Yungyu.

I grabbed the keys to the Palisade, handing them over to him.

“Did you hear?” He whispered urgently.

I frowned.

“What?”

“They say Mr. Kim called off the wedding!” He whispered, wide eyed.

I glared at him.

“Who told you that?” i demanded...

“Seojoon from the gate said-”

“Why don’t you ask Seojoon from the gate to mind his own damn business?” I snapped.

Yungyu looked suitably chastised. i felt a little bad. Yungyu was still young and curiosity was hardly a sin.

“His flight lands at eight exactly. Hurry okay?” I said with a smile, ruffling his hair.

He brightened, peering over my shoulder into the house.

“Where’s the little one?” He asked curiously.

“ Painting something for Mr. Kim... Go ahead, hurry up.” I shooed him away, locking the door behind him. I fixed a plate of food for Junsu and sent him to eat, before moving to check on the stew. +

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

By the time eight thirty rolled around I had the table set and ready. I washed my face quickly in the small bath attached to our room , making sure I was dressed well. Junsu wasn’t allowed in the main house unless Mr. Kim specifically asked for him and my son usually stayed in.

Junsu and I stayed in a bedroom , not large by any means but big enough for a queen sized bed, a table and chair for Junsu and small dresser where I kept a comb and a tube of night cream. I stared at my face, licking my lips as I smoothed my hair out.

I glanced at the bed.

Junsu was asleep , having dozed off while coloring his picture and I carefully extracted the tab from under his fingers, moving him around to lay on the soft pillows. I tucked him in gently, brushing the hair off his face.

“In peace , I will lie down to sleep, for You alone will let me rest in safety.” I whispered gently against his forehead, kissing the soft skin. I felt my lips wobble , a debilitating wave of affection flooding me as the sweet scent of my baby, filled my senses.

I would die for you, I thought fiercely, kissing him again.

The sound of the front door opening made me jump.

Swearing, i smoothed the fabric of my skirt, running to the kitchen.

“Thank you for picking me up Yungyu, I’m sorry you had to cut short on your vacation.” Mr. Kim’s deep voice filled the hallway and I quickly grabbed a glass, filling it with water and placing it on the dinner tray.

“Not a problem, Sir. “ Yungyu’s cheerful voice responded.

“How are you going home?” Mr. Kim asked.

“I’ll take the bus.”

A pause and then,

“Here’s some cash. Get a cab.”

I could hear the relief in Yungyu’s voice as he let out a , “ Thank you sir.”

I fixed his plate carefully, the bowl of rice, the bowl of chicken stew, and the salad neatly arranged next to the napkin and the chopsticks. I heard him move across the condo, the sound of his suitcases as he wrestled them towards his bedroom and I frowned. Yungyu should’ve have brought those in for him.

I finished reheating all of the food and carefully carried the dinner tray to the bedroom.

Mr. Kim’s bedroom was right at the end of the hallway and the door was open. The full length mirror on the opposite wall showed him sitting on the small couch in his room, legs spread and elbows resting on his knees as he ran his fingers through his hair.

I raised my hand, ready to knock on the wood.

“Fuck!” He shouted, kicking out at the coffee table with enough force to send the furniture skidding half way across the room.

I froze in the hallways stunned.

“You’re such a fucking fool , Namjoon !!” He muttered angrily and I swallowed, turning on my heel and quickly walking back to the kitchen.

Maybe I ought to wait till he asked for dinner.

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

He didn’t ask for dinner.

I stayed sitting on the floor of the kitchen, waiting and lightly dozing as I heard him talk to his parents on the phone. I heard him open the liquor cabinet in his room, the sound of ice sloshing against glass, the sound of whiskey being poured carefully and i sighed.

I had to get to bed. It was already a little past eleven.

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

Sometime in the night, I woke up sweating....

Wondering what woke me up, I blinked groggily, glancing at Junsu. He was still sound asleep.

Sighing, I climbed out of the bed, carefully making my way to Mr. Kim’s room, peering in carefully.

He was asleep on the sofa.

I stared at the way his long legs stretched over the armrest, his lean hips twisted to accommodate his broad shoulders on the couch and I winced. He was definitely going to regret that in the morning.

I stared at the half empty bottle of whiskey on the table and sighed, moving to take off his shoes carefully. He didn’t stir.

I grabbed a pillow from the bed, carefully lifting his head and slipping it under. I placed a comforter over his shoulders, pulling it down to cover his legs.

Force of habit almost made me brush his hair off his forehead but I stopped myself.

The clock on the wall read three fifty am. God, I was going to feel terrible tomorrow. I carefully tip toed out, shutting the door behind me

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

I picked the comforter from the floor, carefully folding it and placing it on the bed, before grabbing the empty bottle of whiskey and glass . i could hear the shower running. The curtains were still drawn in and I tugged on the strings to get them to open. Sunlight spilled in through the floor length windows. The bed wasn’t slept in, so I opened the closet to grab a couple of towels, laying them on the bed for him.

The bathroom door opened and i quickly straightened, wanting to race out of the room but it was too late. Thankfully he was dressed, a pair of loose sweats and a loose t shirt . He was running a towel through his hair and his face brightened at the sight of me.

“Yang Mi! You’re here....” He said cheerfully.

“Good morning sir.” I said softly, offering him a small smile.

He smiled brightly, hair damp and dimples deep. The white t shirt he had on was almost fully soaked through and he shook his head, sending stray water droplets all over the place, a few landing on my cheeks.

“I didn’t see you last night...” He said casually, moving to drop the wet towel in the hamper, grabbing one of the fresh ones I’d laid on the bed.

“I thought you would like your privacy sir, you looked exhausted.”

He smiled.

“ Thank you for the blanket and the pillow by the way. And the shoes.”

I bowed quickly.

“I’ll get your breakfast done, sir.” I bowed again before quickly getting out.

I moved to the kitchen grabbing the oranges I’d got the previous day . Mr. Kim wasn’t fond of traditional korean dishes in the morning. He preferred freshly squeezed juice and toast, sometimes with an omelet perhaps.

I fixed his breakfast quickly, setting it all in the tray . He was still moving around in the bedroom and I heard him drag his worktable to the windows, which meant he was going to stay in the bedroom.

Pouring his coffee into a cup, I carefully picked up the breakfast tray , moving to his room slowly.

I used my foot to knock on the door.

After a pause of a few seconds,

“Come in Yang Mi!”

I carefully moved to the small table in front of the couch, placing the tray right in front of him. The scent of his body wash, green apple and strawberries, hit me hard.

“Where’s Junsu?” He asked casually.

“Still asleep sir. It’s Summer so school’s out.” I smiled, grabbing his phone from the table to make space for his tray.

The phone buzzed just as I was about to place it back down and I blinked.

Mina calling.......

I swallowed, not sure what to do, placing the phone down quickly.

“Uh..you have ...” I waved vaguely at the device before bowing again and moving back.

“close the door on your way out, Yang Mi...” He said gently and I quickly obeyed.

I moved to the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee for myself. I stayed leaning over the counter and even through the locked door, I could hear him .

“Just don’t call me Mina...i don’t want to talk about this!!!”

I swallowed, glancing out of the window again. It was a bright, clear morning.

A second later, the door to his bedroom slammed open and he stormed out. I watched him from my spot in the kitchen, his fists clenched as he rushed out to the front door.

The door shut behind him and I exhaled.

Once I as done with my coffee, I moved to his room to clear the breakfast tray. His phone was still on the table.

It began ringing again just as I left the room.

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

"Mrs. Kim.” i said respectfully, bowing . She gave me a short smile.

“Where’s Namjoon? I’ve been calling him for the past hour.” She pushed past me into the house and I bit my lips.

“He went out about an hour ago. He left his phone behind.” I explained.

She stopped, sighing.

“Fine, I’ll wait for him. “ She moved to sit on the couch, glancing around the room.

“Should I get you something ma'am?” I asked softly and she smiled.

“Get me a glass of lemonade, Yangmi.” She said brusquely and i nodded, running to the kitchen.

“Did Mina come over?” She called out as I got the lemons out of the cooler.

“No ma'am.” i replied.

“Did she call?”

I remembered the phone ringing, how upset it had made Namjoon, how he had stormed out.

“I don’t know ma'am!” I said softly.

She nodded.

“Okay. You can leave.” She said quietly. i bowed and went back into the kitchen.

I peered out of the window as I fixed her a glass , and my eyes fell on a familiar figure, coming back in through the front gate. Even from this distance there was no mistaking the long legs and messy blonde hair.

I bit my lips, mind racing.

Mrs Kim and her son had a volatile relationship, to say the least.

And something told me that Mr. Kim was probably not in the right frame of mind to argue with his mother, now. The man was upset but apparently, neither his mother nor his ex fiancée understood that. instead of giving him space they were hounding him.

I hesitated for a second before making a quick decision.

I grabbed the tray with her lemonade and moved to her quickly.

“Thank you.” She said sharply. “ Turn on the Air Conditioner for me, will you?”

I fumbled with the remote, grabbing his phone from the table , turning it on before moving to the front door and rushing out.

I almost ran into him as he came out of the elevator , and i jerked back stumbling a bit to stop myself from crashing into his chest. He let out a , ‘ Whoa, “ his hands reaching out to grip my elbows.

“Careful. What’s wrong?” He asked gently and I swallowed.

“Your mother’s here.” I said quickly, “ Sir.”

“Oh, fuck.” He groaned. I swallowed.

“You can leave.” I blurted out. “It’s Tuesday. She has her charity work meeting at ten. Its almost nine. She won’t stay long....”

His eyes met mine, lips parting in surprise.

“I really can’t meet her now.” He said apologetically.

I nodded.

“Of course, I understand , sir. Just be back in an hour , she’ll be go-”

The elevator buzzed , the doors nearly closing over my shoulders and I flinched. He swore and stuck his arm out to keep it open.

I stared at him before holding his phone out.

“Here you go sir. “

He chuckled taking it from me and shaking his head.

“i feel like a kid, sneaking away from my mom.” His eyes reached mine, twinkling, “ Who would’ve thought the quiet, timid Yang Mi would be my partner in crime. “

I didn’t reply, just smiled.

And then he hesitated. “ Is Junsu awake?”

I blinked.

“Uh...yes sir,...he’s playing in the park downstairs with the other kids.”

“Great... Would you mind if i take him out for ice cream?”

I stared at him.

“Oh..uh...of course not. Sure.. I mean.. he’ll love that... Sir. Thank you.. You don’t have to -”

“Consider it thank you for helping me with my mother.” He smiled again and i found myself staring at his dimples again. i swallowed.

“in that case, he loves butter scotch.” I smiled.

The dimples appeared and i bit my lips.

“Thank you Yang Mi.” He said slowly.

“Yes, Sir.”

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

Author’s Note : Finally a hyungline fic !!! ugh... I’ve been wanting to write a Namjoon fic for ages and I really hope you guys will like this one :’( Feedback is much appreciated.

#namjoon smut #namjoon au #namjoon hot #namjoon fics #namjoon x reader #namjoon fic #bts smut #bts fanfics #bts au #bts fics #houseofddaeng

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chyrstis · 3 years

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WIP Sunday...?

Whoops. So much for Saturday, but Sunday I can definitely do. :D

Tagged by: @adelaidedrubman @vasiktomis @ma-sulevin @fadedjacket and @starsandskies! I want to thank you all for thinking of me, especially since it always takes a few extra days if not a week D: to be able to get to it. <3

Tagging: @writerofblocks @hunnybadgerv @twistedsinews @painterofhorizons @shallow-gravy (I know you just posted, so don’t mind me at all, or *eyes*) @cobb-vanthss @amistrio @tommymillers @jackiesarch @geronimo-11 @unlikelynick @redroci @scarlettkat86 @jackalopestride @jenchwuq @faithchel @consumedkings @belorage @tomexraider @scarlettkat86 @aceghosts @chazz-anova but no obligation intended at all!

---

First, a little more the Hana/Sharky fic I’ve been working on for a bit now, which hopefully I’ll finish by the end of next week? *crosses fingers*

---

The chair screeched forward, and her eyes snapped open.

She didn’t even breathe as she took in the stretch of darkness in front of her. The black of it all stained red for a minute, but it faded. Didn’t see a single thing change in front of her - not the trees twenty feet out from her or the bushes, or the figure on the ground off to her right.

But there was no room. No chair. Just her as she adjusted. Let her eyes settle the longer they were open, and tried to push herself up only to have her pillow all but slip out from under her.

“Uh, H? Hana?”

That’s when she caught the green out of the corner of her eye. Right where she’d decided to nestle her cheek, and sat up fast enough for Sharky to jolt right next to her.

“Whoa, chica. You okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine!” Her hands shot out to steady herself, all while her heart hammered in her chest. “Really, I’m-I’m fine.”

Just repeated it over and over as she sat there, breathing in deep in the hopes that it would out. That she would even out, and rubbed hard at her face before deciding to look his way.

“It was just a really, really shitty dream. I think that’s the only kind I’ve been able to have up here. But see? All fine,” Hana replied, gesturing towards herself. “All awake and ready to jump up and-just really go and put foot to-”

Exhaustion hit her like a truck, making any words she’d meant to go for next disappear straight into a yawn. One of the loudest and longest she could recall in recent memory, and covered her mouth with her hand as she waited for it to pass. But it stretched on, and by the time she was finished, Sharky’s expression had gone from concerned straight to delighted.

“Damn, H. New record there.”

“So, maybe I'm a little tired. A little!” she said, pinching together her fingers. “But that’s just one, and all you’ll be hearing from me.”

Sharky shrugged, but when she saw him stretch and give an exaggerated yawn himself, she couldn’t even roll her eyes before having another slip out. It was nowhere near as long as the other, but that wasn't playing fair at all, and she lightly punched him in the shoulder for it.

---

...A little something I wrote out last night that if all goes according to plan, will absolutely be added to a certain fic, but we’ll see if these two decide to cooperate and if Hana manages not to light herself on fire either

---

“I’d like to file a complaint.”

“About what?” John asked, his tone short.

“This.”

He gave her a look, and Hana smoothed out the remains of the wanted poster she was holding. After tearing if off of the wall, she hadn’t been delicate with it, and as she turned it towards him was suprised it had come off in one piece at all.

“Is this how I look to you?” She jabbed a finger at it. “How I look to the person that drew it out to begin with?”

He didn’t say a single thing to contest it as he aimed a flat look at her, and the fact that she quickly became a perfect match for said poster in that very instance wasn’t lost on her at all.

“John.”

“Deputy.”

He smiled at her, his amusement only growing at her irritation, and she settled for tearing the poster into the finest shreds she could manage instead, hitting him with half of them when she tossed them into the fireplace.

“Fuck you. You know what? Fuck the both of you.”

John wrinkled his nose as the paper drifted down onto his lap, but he brushed it off right back at her.

Hana flicked on the lighter and froze. “Excuse me?”

“...I thought it was an accurate likeness myself, but complaint noted and filed.”

He swept his eyes over her, lingering on her growing scowl. “Even if that expression couldn’t be any more of a perfect match if I tried.”

“Capturing you properly proved to be a challenge, but it was one I was more than willing to rise to.“

“You drew me.” She circled her face with her hand - the lighter still tightly clutched in it as it burned - and came a little too close to setting the longer strands of her bangs on fire with it. “All of this?”

“The artist on hand refused to listen while I guided them, and took heavy liberties even when photos and actual references were provided, so that task fell to me. To make sure that-”

Her eyes widened. “Photos? Where the hell did you...?”

“Did you really think I wasn’t watching, Deputy? At any of my outposts? But as I was saying, nothing could be left open to interpretation even for a second, so, yes. I did draw all of this,” John replied, mimicking her motion with his own hand, “and quite well, I might add. Nowhere near poor enough to earn a fuck you over, let alone twice.”

---

And finally some of the No Cult AU, b/c I’ve been missing this and them a bunch lately (and has it been almost a year since I’ve started this? I have a feeling it’s getting close). I also don’t think I’ve posted this segment here, either, but if I have? Whoops

---

“Now John’s got me like pinky swearing not to make it too big, but you give the word and it’s on, man.�� He glanced up just in time to catch John’s exasperated look and waggled his eyebrows a bit. “Like, we could throw down a bonfire that’ll get everyone talking.”

“Which we expressly do not want. You know exactly why I requested something smaller and manageable.”

“Only if it blows off somewhere else and catches. ‘Sides, even if it did, it’d hardly be the kind that’d knock your socks off.” Giving him a little less stink eye than he deserved, Sharky leaned against the table and huffed. “If you knew how to have some fucking fun, that is.”

“And you’ll have a pro on hand, so consider that stuff, you know. Handled.”

“Handled, he says.” John snorted. “So it’ll only be a minor violation rather than a large one.”

“Fun?” John’s eyes narrowed. “What I think is-”

“John,” Joseph said, cutting him off. “Enough. There’s no need to argue here.”

Sharky watched John open his mouth, then clap it shut. Pressing his lips into a thin line, he didn’t argue any further. Just stayed silent as Joseph walked over to join him on the other side of the table.

“Forgive my brother. What we want is the same here, simply to repay you for your work in some form or fashion, and if this gives us the chance, then please let us take it. You’ve already done so much for us with little to ask for in return. So, if there’s anything we can offer, please allow us to.”

“Dude, it’s nothing. I really don’t mind this,” Sharky said, holding his hands up. “’Sides, I wouldn’t be here without your bro steering me your way to begin with, so…”

John’s posture went rigid. Went ramrod straight as his eyes locked right onto him.

“So, uh…yeah. That’s all on him.”

#wip #I'll see if I can sneak in a little more progress on these tonight #if not at the very least more work on the Trap fic's outline b/c it really does need it #but my goal is definitely to knock out the first idea here b/c I've owed these two something cute for a while now

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yukidragon · 4 years

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Mermaid Jamie - Family

So... I’ve made a chapter for the dark fantasy AU/canon divergent story of mermaid Jamie I’ve been playing around with for Our Life: Beginnings & Always by @gb-patch (which you really should play if you haven’t already, and I will never stop plugging it, never). Like an actual proper chapter instead of a teaser or snippits of scenes.

I still don’t have a proper title for the story in general, but if I was to title the chapter specifically, it might be “Family.” It seems appropriate to me since a certain theme has started to form between this and the teaser.

Standard disclaimer - my version of Our Life’s MC - Jamie Leimomi - aka Jamie Last - may differ from your interpretation of the character. This writing is also in third person rather than second. This writing is rougher than stuff I co-write on @dragonandtiger, and there are spoilers for the game. If none of these things bother you, then I hope you enjoy my splash of a bit of dark color onto such a bright and soft game.

...

Jamie had never planned to ask about her biological parents. She always rejected the idea whenever it flitted across her mind with the mercilessness of a hurricane tossing aside a butterfly. Yet, when faced with the question dead on, there was only one answer she could give.

“I want to know.”

The words came out distant to Jamie’s ears, as if someone else had spoken them with her voice somewhere several feet away. She at least hoped she was managing to look as calm as she sounded. At seeing her moms nod as one, she braced herself, preparing for the oncoming storm.

“Um…,” Lee squeaked out reluctantly. “I… I can leave… if you wanna have things be private.”

Jamie couldn’t draw her gaze away from her moms. They looked so sad. It tore her up inside. She tried instead to focus instead on the warm, bracing hand on her back.

She was fine. She could handle this.

“I want you here,” Jamie said, keeping her voice steady.

Lee gave Jamie a weak smile that went unseen by her cousin. “I can do that,” she said softly before shifting closer to Jamie. She gave the blue haired girl another part on the back, trying to channel all her love and support through the simple touch alone that she couldn’t manage with words.

Jamie managed to draw some strength from that support, and she straightened her back a little more. It was fine, she reminded herself. She could handle this. She had a loving family supporting her after all.

There was nothing to be upset about, no matter the answer.

It was obvious to Jamie that delivering this information was taxing on her moms. The looks they gave her broke her heart. It made her start to regret asking when she heard the way her ma’s voice wavered with heartache.

“You were adopted as a baby,” Noelani began, “but two years after Elizabeth. We used a different organization at the time, and you were adopted within the U.S.”

Not from the same family as Elizabeth.

But that was obvious, Jamie chided herself. The two of them had different skin tone, body type, hair, eyes… It was an absurd thought to have, and she banished it to focus on the rest of what her parents had to tell her.

Pamela sighed, closing her eyes for a moment as she drew in her courage. When she met Jamie’s intense gaze again, it was with tired eyes. “We’re sorry to tell you, Jamie… your parents also passed away, and no other family member took you in… if there were any.”

So that was it then. Not that much different than Elizabeth. Not as bad even - she got to be a U.S. born citizen at least.

“That’s why we wanted to wait until you asked,” Pamela continued before Jamie could process the information further. “We didn’t want to suddenly drop that in your lap. We wanted you to be prepared.”

Of course not, Jamie silently agreed. They had no idea that Elizabeth would do that for them.

“We’re sorry, Jamie,” Noelani said, and the way she said it twisted Jamie’s heart a little more.

Lee squeezed Jamie’s arm, but the blue haired girl barely felt it.

For a long moment there was silence as Jamie accepted the information about her birth parents. Countless thoughts whirred quietly in the background like static as she processed it all. It was such a small amount of information, a fraction of what she had to study for classes, and yet it felt so much more massive than anything she had learned before.

“Okay…,” Jamie began, more to fill in the empty space of everyone’s expectations, as they waited for her to react. She had to organize her thoughts, and that meant focusing on the most important things first. “Thank you for telling me.”

Jamie saw the way her parents looked at her before glancing at each other. Clearly, they needed a little bit more. “I did wanna know, and now I do.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Noelani managed a careful smile. “Thank you for listening, Jamie.”

“If there’s anything else you want to know,” Pamela added a little quickly, “all you have to do is ask. We’ll do our best to answer any questions you have.”

There was no chance for Jamie to stop to consider any before Noelani interjected one of her own.

“How are you feeling now?” she asked. “Are you going to be okay?”

Jamie could feel the way her parents were staring at her, and Lee too. They were worried, afraid of her flying off the handle like Elizabeth did. She couldn’t, wouldn’t yell at her parents in anger. Ever.

Besides, there was too much misery in this house today already.

Jamie put on her best smile and nodded. “I feel fine.” She was certain her tone was convincing, pleasant even. Despite that, the sad smiles her moms gave in return told her that it wasn’t quite convincing enough.

…

“Jamie?”

Jamie snapped back to the present at the sound of her mom’s concerned voice. It had been over five years since that afternoon when she gathered the nerve to ask about her birth parents. She was an adult now.

Despite that, the news her moms had for her made her feel like she was thirteen all over again.

“Are you okay?” Noelani asked as she took a step towards Jamie.

Jamie shook her head a bit to clear it and forced her focus back into the here and now. Just like five years ago, she was in the living room looking at her moms’ grave faces. The only major difference beyond the advancement of years was that Lee and Liz weren’t involved this time.

“I feel fine,” she said with no small sense of déjà vu. “I just… I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Neither were we,” Pamela said, her eyes crinkled with worry. “I’m sorry for dropping this in your lap, but there wasn’t an easier way to tell you.”

Noelani nodded, her gaze sympathetic. “We were just as shocked when the orphanage called us to tell us the news.”

“Yeah,” Jamie muttered as she ran a hand over her eyes. “I get it. I mean…” She faltered as her gaze slipped from her moms to somewhere in the distance. “My birth parents are actually alive? And they want to meet me? It’s… a lot.”

That was probably the biggest understatement of her life.

As a child, Jamie had considered the possibility that her birth parents were still alive somewhere and, if so, they would likely want to meet her someday. That possibility disappeared five years ago on that summer afternoon. Now it was back, just like that.

And just like back then, Jamie felt as though someone had stolen the ground from underneath her feet.

Despite how concerned Jamie had been after her moms told her to come visit them, that they had something important that they could only tell her face to face, she didn’t expect anything close to this sort of world shaking revelation. It made her regret telling Cove he didn’t need to skip work to come with her; she needed him right now.

Noelani ventured to pierce the uncomfortable silence that had hung over them. “It’s okay not to know how to feel about it.”

“You don’t have to decide anything right now,” Pamela added. “We know you’ll need time to process all this.”

Noelani smiled gently, but Jamie noticed the sadness tinged in her eyes. “No matter what you decide to do, we’ll support you.”

Pamela nodded, her mouth set in a determined line despite her own clear distress at the situation. “One hundred percent, full stop.”

Despite the turbulent thoughts swirling around in Jamie’s head, she managed to smile sincerely at her moms. “Thank you.”

Five years ago, Jamie had chosen to leave rather than accept her moms’ comfort and reassurance. This time, she stepped forward, arms outstretched, and they eagerly closed the distance to envelope her in a warm embrace.

For a moment, Jamie just took in her mothers’ love and silently offered her own in return. “No matter what, you’ll always be my moms,” she said, her voice soft but earnest. “I love you.”

“We love you, too,” Pamela said, her voice cracking a little at the edges.

“More than words can say,” Noelani added, her voice thick with emotion as she gave Jamie an extra squeeze.

Although a part of Jamie wanted to remain like that for a while longer, she couldn’t help but start to feel overwhelmed. The air wasn’t quite stifling, but somehow there didn’t seem to be enough of it in the house. Reluctantly, she drew back from the hug and gave her moms an apologetic smile. “I’m gonna to go for a walk for a while… clear my head a bit.”

Both of her parents nodded, still smiling at their daughter despite the obvious concern in their eyes.

“Okay, kiddo,” Pamela said. “Do what you need to do for you right now.”

“Don’t worry about us if you want to go straight home after your walk,” Noelani added.

It was strange for Jamie to hear her ma say that her home was no longer the house she had grown up in all her life, but it was true - home was now an apartment a few miles away from here with Cove.

Jamie thanked her parents before leaving. She resolved to come back to give a proper goodbye before returning to the apartment, but it didn’t take long for her mind to wander as she let her feet carry her in no particular direction.

The sky was heavy with clouds, making the fall afternoon darker than it should have been. Although Jamie much preferred clear sunny days, it seemed appropriate that a storm was coming to match the one raging in her head.

As conflicted as Jamie felt about the whole thing, she knew she had to meet up with her birth parents. There was no way she could reject them, no matter how almost invasive their sudden return to her life felt. Guilt churned in her stomach for thinking that way, but she couldn’t shake off the feeling.

Jamie wondered if this was anything like Cove felt about his parents when he was younger. She vividly remembered the night he snuck into her bedroom for the first time and confided in her about how conflicted he felt over his mom coming back to live with him for a while.

This should have been good news. She should have felt happy to learn that her birth parents were still alive, that there had been an error with the orphanage’s records about their death, and they wanted to have a relationship with her, but she wasn’t. There was a sticky knot in her throat of sickly emotions too tangled together to make sense of them beyond knowing that the whole thing felt completely unwanted.

Jamie needed Cove right now.

She stopped walking to pull her cell phone out of her pocket and pulled up the conversation between her and Cove. She vaguely noticed that she had reached the beach in her mindless wandering and found it oddly appropriate.

Jamie: hey

Jamie’s finger hovered over the screen as her mind went blank. She had no idea how to summarize what was going on. She didn’t even know when Cove’s next break would be. It wasn’t as though he was allowed to have his cell phone on him at work.

Despite this conflict, it wasn’t even a minute before she heard the distinct chime she had assigned to Cove’s texts and saw his reply pop up on the screen.

Cove: Everything ok?

Jamie couldn’t help but smile a little in spite of how crummy she felt. Cove must have been waiting for her all to get back to him about what was going on all this time, rules or no rules. He was always so considerate of her. It made her feel a little less guilty about asking him to ditch work for her.

Jamie: Could you come to my moms’ place?

Jamie: I need you.

Cove: Okay. I’ll be right there.

Jamie closed her eyes and sighed with relief, feeling a little of the tension in her shoulders slip away. She could always count on Cove to be there for her.

Jamie: Thank you.

Jamie: <3

Cove: <3

Jamie smiled at the little heart Cove sent her and left the conversation at that. Even that little bit of back and forth had been a soothing balm to her aching heart, but she held herself back from seeking out more. She knew he needed to talk to his boss and then focus on driving. Any further texting would just delay his arrival that much longer, and more than anything else she needed him with her right now.

After turning off the phone, she paused to idly trace the dolphin keychain attached to it with her fingers. Even after all these years, the material was still as soft and vibrantly colored as it was on the day Cove purchased it for her. It was her first present from him, an irreplaceable symbol of their friendship. Just looking at it reminded her of him and how much he meant to her, as well as how grateful she was to have him in her life.

A quiet rumble of distant thunder drew Jamie’s gaze up to the horizon. The waves of the ocean were choppy in front of her, the wind starting to pick up in earnest. In the distance, dark clouds were approaching the shore, and as she watched, a brief flash of lightning flickered with them, followed by another ominous rumble.

Jamie frowned at the sight of the approaching storm and turned to head back home, or rather to her moms’ home. She wasn’t ready to go back yet, her mind still too tangled with conflicted thoughts, but she wasn’t about to stay outside during a thunderstorm. If it was a sunshower, then she would have been all for basking in the thrill of it, but she had never been a fan of lightning and thunder.

Jamie closed her eyes with a sigh, her shoulders slumping a bit. At least Cove would be here soon. She would feel better then, she was sure.

“Siren!”

The sudden yell caused Jamie to flinch in surprise. Between the oncoming storm and it being the off season, the beach had been deserted. Now she had even more reason to leave when she noticed someone walking in her direction from further down the beach.

“Siren! Wait!”

Jamie hesitated at the almost frantic call of the woman who she realized was definitely approaching her, waving to get her attention. She wondered if the woman knew her. She wasn’t familiar with anyone with blue hair and pale skin… except… herself…

Jamie froze, her mouth going dry as a desert as the woman closed in on her.

The woman was beautiful, her slender, delicate figure giving her the appearance of a model, though she walked in an awkward gait across the sand. Because Jamie was just shy of six feet tall she had several inches on this stranger, who was more average in height for a grown woman. There were other more subtle details, ones Jamie couldn’t help but recognize as ones she saw in the mirror every day.

As the woman got closer, Jamie saw she had large pink eyes that practically glowed in the muted sunlight. Her smile was wide, her expression one of pure delight that didn’t waver as she closed the distance between them. She wore a short but flowing dress that not only bared most of her legs but also the fact that she was walking barefoot. Oddly, her pinned up blue hair and pale skin were damp with moisture while her clothes appeared perfectly dry.

It took Jamie all her willpower not to give in to the irrational urge to make a run for it.

“Oh Siren, my Siren,” the woman said with tears welling in her eyes. Her voice had a sweet quality to it and an accent that Jamie couldn’t place. “I finally found you!”

Jamie braced herself to greet the woman in spite of how her skin crawled, but when she saw arms open wide to welcome her in a hug, she stepped back quickly to avoid it.

That retreat was enough to halt the woman’s approach just outside arm’s length from Jamie. She blinked her wide pink eyes repeatedly, appearing genuinely baffled. “Siren? Do you not recognize me? It’s your mother, your true mother!”

The bottom dropped out of Jamie’s stomach as the woman confirmed her suspicions. She tried to force out some sort of response, but words failed to come.

Her supposed mother grew distressed by the lack of response. “Oh, my poor, poor Siren. Do not fear. Your mother has come to take you home.”

Jamie panicked when the woman tried to grab her wrist and jerked away. “No! I’m not going anywhere with you!”

The woman froze, her large eyes somehow growing even wider.

Jamie held her phone in both her clammy hands as she took deep breaths to calm herself down after that outburst. If this really was her birth mother, she had to try to show some empathy. It was only natural for someone who lost a child to get emotional over a reunion with said child after being separated for almost two decades.

That didn’t mean Jamie wasn’t also giving serious consideration to running for it.

“My name is Jamie Leimomi,” Jamie said, speaking more calmly but drawing an edge under her name. “I don’t know who you think I am, but I don’t know you, and I don’t know anyone named ‘Siren.’”

Surprise melted away quickly from the woman’s face and her wide smile returned to full force. “Oh, yes, yes, of course. I am Demetria Palinouros, your real mother. Siren is the name I gave you before you were stolen from me.”

“Stolen?” Jamie repeated, surprised.

Demetria let out a sigh that turned into an almost painful moan. “My traitor sister Maris, she stole you from me, lied that I and your great father Apollo were dead to those people who took you from her. She lied to us that you were dead, and I believed her lies for so many years!”

By the end of the tirade, Jamie found herself feeling sorry for the woman in front of her, despite her misgivings. The distress Demetria showed, the tears that spilled forth freely, those were real. It made her feel guilty for wanting to run away when it was clear that reuniting with her meant so much to this person, her apparent birth mother.

Jamie tried to stand firm despite the guilt gnawing at her gut. She could handle talking with this woman. She reassured herself that if things went wrong, she could run or fight if she needed to. Demetria was smaller than her and didn’t appear nearly as physically fit, nor did she seem to move easily on the sand. A quick look around verified that they were the only two on the beach and that the clouds hanging overhead had turned a dark shade of gray.

Jamie took a deep breath and braved the conversation just a little longer. “Do… do you have proof?”

Demetria blinked away large tears, the sorrow fading somewhat with confusion as she stared at Jamie. “Proof?”

Jamie nodded, refusing to budge on the point. “If you were able to prove to the orphanage that you’re really my… my birth parent, then you can show that proof to me too, right?”

Demetria sniffled, but nodded, smiling once again through her tears. “Yes, yes, of course, of course!” She reached out for Jamie. “Come with me, and I’ll show you.”

Jamie stared at the offered hand for a moment before she took a deliberate step backwards. “I’d rather not.”

Silence set in for a moment as Demetria stared at Jamie. She appeared genuinely oblivious to how suspicious she was behaving. “Why? You asked for proof, so come with me for proof, Siren.”

Jamie tried to be discreet as she turned her phone on and began to type without looking away from the woman in front of her. “I’m not comfortable going anywhere with you.”

“But I’m your mother!” Demetria cried, tears welling up in her eyes again.

“I don’t know who you are!” Jamie fired back, keeping her expression and tone rigid. There was no shaking the feeling that all of this was wrong and that she needed to get away as quickly as possible.

Maybe Demetria really was who she said she was, but that didn’t matter. To Jamie, she was still a stranger. Besides, just being biologically related didn’t mean the woman in front of her was safe to be around.

Jamie took another step back then another to increase the distance between them but made sure never to turn her back on the woman that claimed to be her mother. “I’m sorry, but I’m gonna go now.”

Demetria’s expression was blank as she watched her so-called daughter’s cautious retreat, tears trickling down her cheeks, mouth flagging open. She seemed truly at a loss, but not so much distraught as she seemed unable to comprehend why Jamie was leaving instead of going with her.

It only served to leave Jamie even more unsettled.

That was when the storm arrived.

Thunder tore through the air, causing Jamie to jump with a yelp. In the split second she took her eyes off Demetria, she realized that the woman had halved the distance between them, reaching out for her.

Adrenaline sent Jamie sprinting in the opposite direction when a deafening scream tore through her, but the scream did not come from her. A high pitched shriek erupted from the woman behind her, an explosion of noise that pierced her brain with a million bits of shrapnel.

Pain was the last thing Jamie knew before everything went dark.

…

Cove had been in the middle of driving when the rapid fire texts from Jamie came in. His phone had been tossed carelessly onto the passenger seat, and he had been too focused on the drive to notice it vibrate. When he arrived at their old neighborhood, he hadn’t bothered to check his phone when he scooped it back up, thinking only of meeting up with Jamie as soon as possible.

Her moms informed him that she had gone on a walk to clear her head, and that was all he needed to know before he was on the search. It didn’t matter that it was raining and the clouds rumbled with thunder. He had to find Jamie.

The first place Cove went was the hills behind the Leimomi house, but Jamie wasn’t there. It was then that he turned to his cell phone. Taking shelter beneath a tree to keep it from getting wet, he turned it on and saw the missed texts.

That was when the world stopped.

Jamie: theres a lady here

Jamie: at beach

Jamie: tryin to get me to go with her

Jamie: she looks like me but pink eyes

Jamie: says shes my mom

Jamie: thers something wring wit

That was all. The last text had been sent only twenty minutes ago.

Cove ran down the hill towards the beach, his heart pounding in his ears. He tried calling Jamie, but it only rang until it went to voicemail. He hung up and tried again and again to the same result. The frantic texts he sent asking where she was also went unanswered. He scoured the empty beach, screaming Jamie’s name all the while as he searched for some sign of her or any person at all.

He found nothing but empty sand and turbulent waves as the storm raged on.

#Our Life Beginnings & Always #ourlifeba #Cove Holden #Jamie Last #Jamie Leimomi #Mermaid Jamie #My Writing

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talesofafangirlwithadvr · 4 years

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March 2021 Picks!

Okay, this is pretty shocking. I am actually starting this review with two weeks of March left! However, you will notice that I haven’t watched a ton of stuff this month. Instead I’ve been reading more for my program. I have continued with some favorites though, and even finished some series.

Here come the spoilers....

NANCY DREW

I HAVE to start off talking about the CW’s Nancy Drew because I am LOVING IT this season. Wednesday’s cannot come fast enough (as you have probably seen on this page already). I am SO obsessed that I have actually started re-watching season 1 again (got it as a X-mas present, but available with HBO Max). It’s just SO GOOD! Obviously, I remember how that mystery concludes, but there’s things I’m noticing that I didn’t the first go round and even a few things I forgot. Some of those episodes feel like a lifetime ago because it was a pre-Covid world. Watching this show just makes me so happy. There’s great writing, plot, and THIS CAST! They are AMAZING. It is rare that I can say I like an entire show’s cast. That’s how you know you have a hit. I love the pairs. George and Nick are such a good match and make so much sense. I know they are not canon in the original series, but this show is its own thing and I think the choices they made with George and Nick’s characters are great. I just want George to be alright. She’s been through so much already. I also LOVE the potential of Nancy and Ace and I seriously think we’re headed there with the show. So many breadcrumbs and I am loving them all. I often re-watch a lot of the episodes instantly to make sure I have found them all. (See my page lydia-yougowith-stiles for more gushing on that.) Now we just need Bess back with Lisbeth and everything would be golden.

WANDAVISION

I LOVED the ride that was Wandavision. I have never watched anything like it and I don’t think I ever will get that same experience again. It was so tough to wait for a new episode every Friday and it’s crazy that we haven’t had a new one for two weeks because it’s over. (Haven’t started Falcon and the Winter Soldier yet, but plan to.) I can definitely see myself re-watching the series as a whole in the very near future. I loved all the speculation and fan theories out there after each episode was released. I know some people are upset that they decided not to include some stuff, but I was okay with it. I feel there’s so much potential and we’d love to see it all, but there’s also the hope we can see more of it with Wanda’s character in the future. For an Avenger who was underrepresented in the MCU she FINALLY has the recognition of being one of the strongest people out there. I cannot wait to see where she is headed in Dr. Strange Multiverse of Madness. I feel this is not the end of “Vision” and the boys either. I seriously loved their family and the scene (which I chose the above picture from) was one of my favorite moments of them. We got to see them fight as a family, which made it even heartbreaking later.

SUPERMAN AND LOIS

From one super family to the next, I have been pleasantly surprised with how much I have enjoyed the CW’s latest additional to the Arrowverse: Superman and Lois. While I am feeling the burnout of the CW’s superhero shows, I wasn’t sure how I’d feel specifically for Superman and Lois. The trailer didn’t draw me in, but I decided to still record and watch the pilot. I am very happy that I did. I love the tone of the show and the decision to show an older Clark and Lois raising their twin sons. (Even though I am continually feeling like Tyler Hoechlin is far too young to have 14 year old twins. He’s 33, so that “would” have made him 19, but it still feels like they try to make him look older as Clark.) As a lover of Smallville (which was my first real experience with superheroes), I love being back in the small, farm town and seeing Clark at his roots. Lois is great and very Lois like in her wanting to take down Morgan Edge. The couple has great chemistry and they feel like a family with the boys. I liked the twist (even though I felt it coming) that Jordan has powers and Jonathan is “just” athletic. While I liked that this was a way for Jordan to bond with his dad, I am hopeful that Jonathan will get something later down the line. If not then I hope he becomes more like the Stiles and stays human but can be apart of the team in another way. I don’t want him to go evil or anything because of his lack of powers. I really enjoy his character and how supportive he is for his brother.

BLOWN AWAY SEASON 2

The second season of Blown Away came to Netflix at the perfect time. I was missing this show after watching the first season in the later half of 2020. Glass blowing is something I knew nothing about, but was drawn in by the trailer of this competition show. It was so mesmerizing and satisfying to watch (although, I would never try it myself). With the season being so short, I was ecstatic to discover the show got renewed for a second season. This latest season was just as fantastic and we tried to drag out watching the episodes as long as we could to make it last even longer. Seriously, check this show out if you love interesting competition shows that you’ve never seen before. You’ll be wanting to book a trip to visit the Corning Glass Museum in NY.

VIOLETTA

Well, your girl did it! After three seasons of 80 episodes a piece, I FINISHED Disney Channel South America’s telenovela VIOLETTA. What a fun ride it’s been. From eagerly awaiting the next season to be released on Disney Plus, to adding the songs to my phone. I feel like my Spanish improved, but I’m sure once the subtitles are removed I’ll be hopeless. This was such a fun time with some out of this world stories, but they were so entertaining. While there were times I wanted certain plots wrapped up, I understood why they were dragged out because of the length of the show. Season three as a whole wasn’t my favorite. While the beginning was very strong, the middle was rough and I found myself taking a lot of pauses. (I really felt I needed to finish when my sister-who started long after me-finished the show and I was still on like episode 50.) Despite, all of this, it did pick up in the last 20 episodes and I just wanted to marathon through because it was so good. Once I was finished I felt so accomplished and a bit sad. I want to continue watching South American Disney shows available on Disney Plus, but due to the long commitment I think it will be some time before I do. Plus, right now I would definitely compare it to Violetta a lot because I just finished it and it was my first experience.

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palettepainter · 3 years

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Overworked

Wanted to do a quick story with Taiho since he’s the least developed of the Higari siblings.

Taiho is the worry wort of the family, he does all the paperwork for the family business so that causes him to stress a lot. Thankfully big brother Higari is there to lend him a hand, and tell him when to go take a nap you dumb idiot

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

Taiho murmed in his sleep at the unpleasant feeling of something hard and cold jabbing his cheek.

He tired to turn away, rolling his head in the opposite direction, but that only got whoever was poking him to shake his shoulder. He grumbled and tried to shake them off with a roll of his shoulder

“Taiho. Tai. Wake up!”

Taiho finally stirred awake and, with effort, sat up at his desk, one hand brushing his fringe out of his eyes “Mmnnnrr?”

Higari, his older brother, stood at the end of his desk - and though his fringe hid most of his face, it was clear in his crossed arms and tone he wasn’t impressed with the state he found him in “You’ve been overworking again haven’t you?” He said while glancing towards the messy pile of paper on his brothers desk

Taiho blinked slowly, like a bear waking from winter “Whuzzah?” Taiho observed his desk for a long moment, looking at all the bills and paper forms scattered across it. He waved his hand “No no, I’m fine! Really, this doesn’t happen as often as think Higari”

Higari rose a bold brow and then pointed to Taiho’s face, where a piece of paper was stuck to his cheek “You’ve drooled all over your work”

Taiho hummed and then lifted a hand to his cheek. So he had - an old payment form from a car repair they’d done last week was glued to his face “Uh..” he sheepishly pulled it away, quickly placing it down onto his desk and trying to ignore Higari’s piercing stare

Higari sighed “Go to bed Taiho”

“Higari I’m fine, really“ Taiho attempted to bargain, but he should have know that Higari would not be deterred so easily. Higari rose his brow higher, and tapped his foot - Taiho gulped “S-Seriously, I’m fine!“ Clusmily, Taiho scrapped his arm over his desk in an attempt to shove all his paperwork to one side, but that only made him knock over a pen pot and then his half empty cup of tea, which had gone disgustingly cold hours ago. Higari watched as Taiho then scrambled to pick up the mug and pens “I just- We’re a little behind on paperwork, that’s all! I-I mean-” he did a rolling motion with his hand “With Chikara and Suru actually doind the repairs and Hono with his demolition job, a-and Ma takin’ care of the house-”

Higari sighed and shook his head “Alright, do me a favour” Higari held both of his arms out infront of him “Hold out your arms like this”

Taiho hesitated, sensing an ulterior motive “U-Uhm, I don’t really w-”

“Do it” Higari repeated strenly

Taiho made a noise of discomfort, looking almost embarrassed as he shyly raised his arms out like Higari had shown. His arms where shaky

Higari once again, sighed “You can’t keep workin’ Taiho ya need rest”

Instantly Taiho drew his arms back to him and turned in his chair away from Higari, who didn’t falter despite his brothers whinny, childish behaviour. “I’m fine” Taiho gritted, cheeks turning pink at the fretting “Theres just been more..paperowrk then usual this month” he tried to defuse the situation, shrug off the problem, his attempts where futile as - with stupid ease - Higari yanked Taiho’s chair away from the desk with one hand, drawing a startled yelp from his brother who’s hands grabbed onto the arms of his seat to prevent him from falling out

“Yer a real stubborn piece a work ya know that?“ Higari said while making his way towards the desk, scooping up handfulls of the scattered forms and placing them into a pile. Taiho went to stand “Ah, Higari, you don’t have to-”

“Sit down, or I’ll make you“ Higari half warned, still cleaning up the paper.

Taiho knew better then to test Higari’s patience, and without a word, promptly sat his rump back into his chair, lips pressed together into a thin line

Higari turned to him briefly, then looked back to his mine field of a desk, one corner of his mouth turned up into a grin at how easy Taiho had been put back in his place. Once you could see the desk again and the paper and pens had been put back in their rightful places, Higari looked back to Taiho, who was slouching and rubbing his neck, looking guilty.

Higari’s tone was softer when he spoke “You know you can’t keep doin’ this to yourself right? Yer not gonna be able to help if you’re contantly burnin’ yourself out. Ya gotta remember to takes breaks every now and again”

“I know..“ Taiho replied quietly, looking far more interested in the floor “It’s just...I dunno“ he shrugged lazily, hands pulling back through his hair “Chikara and Suru are so busy with doing the actual repairin’ and such, and with Hono and his job I-..I-I’m the only one who can really do this stuff“ Higari, sensing Taiho had more to say, simply kept quite and offered Taiho the chance to continue. Which he did: “And if it’s not done, we don’t get the payment through or- o-or the right parts ordered, or the machine part delivered back to the right person! A-And- And then EVERYTHING becomes a mess!“ He threw his arms out for exaggeration, Higari leaned back to avoid getting smacked

“A-And...and...“ Taiho deflated, letting out a long sigh that ended in a groan, his hands cushioned against his face as he rubbed them over his fave, muffling another long groan.

“Hey..“ it was Higari’s turn to talk as he reached forward to put a hand on Taiho’s shoulder. Taiho didn’t pull his face away from his hands, but did peak out to his brother through the gaps between his fingers “Don’t get yourself worked up over what if’s and maybes. You’re smarter then that, heck, you’re probably the smartest kid outta the family!“ Here did Taiho pull his face up from his hands, up close Higari could now see clearly the dark circles under his eyes and how his beard look more scruffier then usual “The town is pretty small, everybody more or less knows each other and their neighbours - has anyone ever gotten mad over a mistake before?“

“No..” Taiho answered, scratching his neck

“Then why would anyone start now? The communicty knows you, Chi and Suru are all runnin’ the business by yourselves, you guys are all good but yer still three people“ Taiho glanced to him and then looked away again, obviously still ashamed at getting so burried under his work load. Higari was unsure what to do, but had an idea pretty quickly “Sides, if anyone gives you trouble, I’ll give em something to really kick up a fuss about”

Worry suddenly overcame Taiho’s face, Higari couldn’t help but snicker “Please..d-don’t do that” Taiho said with a wave off his hand, unsure if Higari had been joking or not.

“Hey, you guys are still my little brother and sisters.“ Higari held a hand proudly to his chest “Only I get to yell at you“

“I’m not that little anyone“ Taiho joked lightly, the tiniest of smiles coming to his face as e gestured to, even sitting down, the height difference between the two. Higari gave a dry laugh, rolling his eyes playfully - the short jokes where an easy pick he thought, but he’d let his family and Ecto get away with them.

“Har har, yeah yeah, you’re a goddamn beanpole“ At the drop of the silly nickname, Taiho let out a light chuckle, which Higari was hoping for “But that’s what big brothers do...and they also tell their little brothers to go sleep“

“Ah..I was kinda hoping you’d forgotten“ Taiho admitted, peering behind him towards the doorway and then back to his desk, hesitant to leave work unfinished. Higari peered back towards the pile of paperwork, compared to the world load he’d had and seen Ecto do, Taiho’s work load looked like a walk in the park.

“Okay, look-“ Higari pulled Taiho from his chair with strength only Chikara could rival, hoisting Taiho to his feet as he pulled the chair back round to the desk “I’ll finish up your work, and you go and rest. I’ve done this kinda paperwork a hundred times over at UA, so just and goes and rest up for a few hours“

“W-What?“ Taiho blinked down at him “No no! That’s MY work, you don’t have to-“

“Tai, I really don’t mind“ Higari jumped up onto the set, already grabbing at a pen and the first piece of paper of the pile he’d made “You’d offer the same if our roles where reversed, and this way you don’t have to worry about working when you get up“

Taiho looked ready to argue back, so while popping the lid of his pen Higari used his ace card “Ooor I could tell Ma you’ve been over-workin’ again - your choice”

The smugness in Higari’s smirk was grossily obvious as Taiho seemed to freeze up at the mention of their mother. His mother would have his head if she found out he’d gotten in such a state over work, she’d probably ban him from being near a work desk for a week till he was well rested

“U-Uh- N-No no!“ Taiho cracked a nervous chuckle under the pressure “T-Theres no need to get Ma involved“

That’s what I thought, Higari thought, but chose not to voice it. Instead he jabbed a thumb over to the small office sofa “If ya want you can always snooze ‘ere, you ain’t even gotta leave the room if you’re that nervous too”

Taiho eyed the sofa, and then the hallway, before he shuffled over to the red furniture piece on the other side of the room. Taiho laid down, hands on his chest, feet slightly hanging over one arm with his head propped up with one pillow . “Are you SURE you’re okay to do it?” Taiho asked again, sitting up as if preparing to stand up again

“With the amounta paperwork I’ve gotta work through and send off at UA, this stuff I could do with an arm tied behind my back“ Higari finished over the first piece of paper, typed some things up onto the computer screen, then reached for another form “Now stop worryin’ you muttonhead. One nap won’t ki-“

Higari stopped mid sentence at the sound of light snoring

He looked over to the sofa with a hum, and then snickered. Taiho was fast asleep, mouth open in snores, one arm and leg drapped off the sofa with the other leg hanging off the armrest. His hair was sprawled like strings of hay over the cushion behind him, and a small string of drool dribbling from the corner of his mouth. Everyone now and then he’d mutter something incoherent in his sleep, or make a weird expression, but he was thoroughly and utterly fast asleep

With Taiho at last alseep, Higari turned back round to the paperwork

..after he took a very quick picture of course

#MHA #MHA OC #powerloaders family #Powerloader #Higari #Taiho #Story

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lancermylove · 4 years

Text

How Does One...? 101.

Fandom: BSTS

Pairing: Sinju x Reader

Warning: NS/FW fail? Jk, suggestive.

Requested by: Anon

Prompt: (light ns/fw maybe) Hello Lancer-senpai! I really adore your writing, especially for BSTS, so I wanted to request an one shot with Sinju! The scenario is; the two of you have dated for a bit and now Sinju is feeling it is time to go all the way, maybe (the s/o ofc really wants it too!)? It can be crack, fluff or NS/FW I just want to see what you come up with because I love what you do! I hope this isn't too vague :'D

A/N: Your request is not vague at all! I had so much fun writing this request. So, I decided to make it comical and include the Starless members in the start. I am SO sorry that reader enters much later on, but I couldn’t stop writing the first “half”. 😂

Word Count: 3,892

———————————————

Sinju shifted back onto the park bench, but his eyes remained fix on the shimmering water in front of him. He paid no heed to the people walking by nor to the conversation of the couple sitting next to him.

'What should I do?' The young boy kept asking himself again and again. 'We have been dating for a while, but..'

Shaking his head vigorously, he sighed, "Maybe I should ask someone for help."

He tightened his grip on the white paper cup in his left hand and stood up. Taking one last sip of his vanilla latte, he tossed the cup into the trash can and headed towards Starless.

"Hey, Rindou?" Sinju couldn't think of anyone better to ask for help than his trusted leader.

"What's wrong, Sinju?" Rindou gave him a warm smile, "Did something happen?"

"Do you have a few minutes? I need your advice on something."

The older male nodded and motioned his teammate to sit on the chair across him. Though he trusted his team leader, the young boy was nervous to talk openly about such a sensitive subject.

"So, I have a girlfriend, and we have been dating for a while now. Um...I-I have been thinking about...um, taking things one s-step further." Sinju shyly glanced at Rindou while drawing circles on the table in front of him. "I have n-no experience, so how do I go about it?"

Rindou tilted his head slightly, "Go about what?"

"You know." Sinju hoped that his team leader would catch on but seeing Rindou clueless, he had no choice but to say it, "How do I k-know that she'll be okay with me getting close to her? And...how do I properly m-make lo-love?"

The green-haired man's face turned bright red as he bit the corner of his lower lip. "U-uh...w-well...S-Sinju, I am not s-sure how to answer that..."

The usually cheerful boy lowered his eyes and mumbled, "I a-am sorry."

"Please don't apologize," Rindou spoke in a timid voice, "It's difficult for me to answer such a question, but...you could try asking the others?"

Sinju nodded, not wanting the moment to get any more awkward, "I will do that. Sorry again."

"Please don't apologize. I'm sorry for not being able to help."

Sinju smiled and thanked Rindou again before quickly walking out of the restaurant area. He stopped near the rehearsal room and placed his hand on his chest, drawing in deep breaths.

'Who do I ask now? Menou?'

The orange-haired man's expressionless face appeared in his mind, causing his eyes to widen.

'Maybe not him. Yakou?'

The memories of his trainee group flooded his head - his excitement, the company excusing him, his decision to leave without telling his group, his fight with Yakou, and his friend's attempt to overthrow Rindou.

He let out a heavy sigh and mumbled under his breath, "No way, I can ask him. Then, what about Ma-"

Before he could say the singer's name, a vivid image of a hole in a wall flashed in his mind. A chill ran down his spine, "I don't want to die yet."

"Why are you standing here talking to yourself?" A gruff voice called out behind him, causing the young boy to jump.

"K-Kokuyou, s-sorry." Sinju nervously tugged at his jacket's sleeve, "Say, can I ask you something?"

The taller man looked at his questioningly but waited for him to continue.

"U-Uh, well, I-I..."

"Stop stuttering and say whatever the hell you want to say!"

Sinju raised his hands in defense and shook his head, "Nothing! Sorry!"

With those words, he ran down the hall while Kokuyou stared at his back, confused. "What's his problem?"

Sinju ran out to the back alley and leaned his back against one of the walls, catching his breath. While waiting for his racing heart to calm down, he thought about who else he could ask.

'Akira might know, but what if he tells the other cast members about this? They won't let me live it down. Taiga may find this topic awkward. Sin...' Sinju paused and thought of the conversation he had with Sin a few days ago.

"Hi, Sin! How are you?"

"The waves sway to the wind's command even if they sought freedom."

Sinju tilted his head to the left and blinked, "What does that mean?"

Sin gave a smile and added a spoonful of tea leaves to a light blue teapot, "The moon may light the darkness, but a single cloud possesses the power to engulf the light."

The young boy felt blood rushing to his brain as he tried his hardest to decipher the poetic male's words.

"How does Team W understand him?" Sinju blinked away a few tears trying to escape his eyes. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hands, "Maybe I could try asking Takami later."

"It's rare seeing you in the back alley."

"H-Hey, Sotetsu." Sinju watched as the tall man sat down on one of the steps and took out a pack of cigarettes.

"Did you join the dark side and start smoking?" He chuckled and lit one of the cigarettes before taking a long puff.

"N-No." Sinju followed the smoke lazily and sighed, "If I ask you a question, will you charge me for it?"

Sotetsu started laughing, "You know me too well." He carefully analyzed Sinju's reaction before speaking again, "What's your question?"

"I can't pay you anything right now." He lowered his gaze, kicking a gray pebble in front of his shoe.

"Don't worry. I am asking to satisfy my curiosity."

"How do you know what woman want? I mean...are there specific signals or signs?" Team P's member mumbled, keeping his gaze on the ground.

He failed to notice an amused smirk forming on the older man's lips, "What do you mean?" Though he knew fully well what Sinju was insinuating, Sotetsu decided to test the water a little.

"I mean, how do you tell if a girl wan-" Sinju suddenly froze when it hit him that asking Sotetsu may be just as bad as asking Akira. 'What if he tells the others?'

"I just remembered that I have to...uh...go help Rindou. See you later." Sinju quickly walked past Sotetsu without glancing at him once.

Team K's member laughed to himself, "You can't even lie properly...you're too honest for your own good."

Once again lost in thought, Sinju absentmindedly turned a corner and nearly ran into Ginsei and Gui, but ended up losing his balance and fell on his behind.

"S-sorry, Sinju," Ginsei held out a hand and helped the blue-haired boy onto his feet, "Are you okay?"

"Y-Yeah. Actually, no, I am trying to figure something out but can't find an answer."

"What are you trying to find out?" Team K's second inquired.

"Ginsei, how do you properly treat a woman?" Sinju asked, placing his hands inside the pockets of his jacket.

"Well, that depends on the woman, but you have to be nice to her, listen to her words, treat her with respect-"

Shaking his head, Sinju interrupted, "T-That's not what I mean. How do you know what women want?"

"That again depends on the woman. Some like attention, some like their space," Ginsei paused after seeing a disappointed expression on Sinju's face, "Is that not what you're asking?"

Sinju shook his head and drew in a deep breath, gathering courage, "Is there a proper way to have s*x?"

Ginsei's jaw dropped at hearing Sinju's question as his face turned various shades of red. Not expecting such a bold question, Ginsei was at a complete loss of words, "U-Uh, I-I...w-well...um..."

Seeing the silver-haired man stuttering, Sinju bit the bottom of his lip, "I am sorry for being so straightforward." He hung his head and dragged his heavy feet out of there.

"Ginsei?" Gui called him but got no response. He shook his team member gently, "Ginsei?"

"Y-Yeah?"

"What does s*x mean?" Gui asked innocently, leaning his head to one side.

Ginsei nearly dropped to the ground. His eyes grew as wide as they possibly could while his cheeks kept getting redder. "Gui, don't EVER ask that question to anyone. Actually, forget that you ever heard that word."

Back to square one, Sinju trudged his way through the empty halls of Starless. As he made his way back towards the rehearsal room, he heard a faint sound coming from inside. Taking a peek inside, he saw Mokuren stretching his muscles.

"Mokuren." Sinju cautiously stepped inside, but as soon as he saw Moku's glare, he retreated out of the room, "I am sorry to disturb you!"

"Someone seems frazzled."

Sinju swiftly turned around to see Zakuro and Hari standing behind him. He pondered for a second but decided that he didn't know them well enough to tell them his issue. "I'm okay."

Heading into the locker room, Sinju ran down his now nearly depleted list of who to ask. 'I don't want to ask Rico...he's most likely going to make fun of me. Asking Ran and Mizuki is out of the question. Heath might get embarrassed.'

He plopped onto the chair in front of the makeup vanity and stared at himself in the mirror, examining his dark circles and pale face. Sinju slouched further into the chair and closed his eyes. 'That leaves Kei, Takami, Qu, Kasumi, and Kongou.'

----

It was a new day, and Sinju decided to try his luck once again, hoping that he will get an answer or answers this time around. He poked his head into the management office and spoke in a shaky voice, "Kei, do you h-have a minute?"

Kei glanced at him and nodded, motioning him to come inside. "Why do you sound nervous? Did your team members get into another fight?"

Sinju closed the door behind him before shaking his head. "Thankfully, no, but I wanted to ask you something. I h-have a kinda personal question," he raised his hands in front of him, "not personal as in prying information about you."

"What do you want to know?" Kei asked in his signature baritone voice, maintaining a straight face.

"H-How do I know my girlfriend is...um...ready to get c-close to me? And how do I...ma-make love properly?" Sinju couldn't meet the older male's eyes after those words left his mouth.

Kei's lips slightly parted, and his eyebrows rose a notch. Though he was astonished, Kei quickly gathered himself. A smile soon appeared on his lips. Sinju slowly drew his eyes up to see Kei smiling, much to his surprise.

"If your girlfriend wants you to get close to her, you will be able to tell from her body language." Kei paused to allow Sinju to ask any new questions.

"Body..language?"

"Yes. Each female has her way of hinting that she's ready. You will have to figure this out on your own, but ask yourself, is she doing anything out of the usual?" Kei studied Sinju's expressions before continuing, "To answer your second question, there is no proper way of making love. But, make sure to pay attention to her needs."

"I see." Sinju rubbed the back of his head, taking in the information piece-by-piece, "Thank you, Kei."

Bowing slightly, he turned on his heels and headed towards the door, overjoyed that he finally got an answer to his question. Meanwhile, Kei quietly chuckled and whispered to himself, "How sweet."

Sinju skipped to the locker room but stopped upon hearing his name. Spinning around, he saw Takami walking towards him. "Someone is happy today."

The young boy gave a grin, "Hey, Takami."

"Did something good happen?"

"I finally got an answer to my question." Sinju leaned against the door to the locker room and spoke in a quiet voice.

"What question would that be?" Takami asked curiously, pushing his glasses closer to his face with his index finger.

Sinju pressed his lips together, thinking whether or not he should ask Takami as well. 'More opinions won't hurt, right? After all, Kei said there's no right way.'

Before asking, Sinju looked up and down the hallway, making sure that no one was around. "Takami, do you have any tips for...my f-first time?"

"First time?" He asked in a whisper.

"Yes, first time...getting close to my g-girlfriend."

Takami smiled at Sinju's nervousness, "Follow your instincts and have patience."

"Oh, okay. Thanks, Takami. I need to get ready for floor duty."

Team W's member smirked a little as he watched his co-worker disappear into the locker room. "That was unexpected."

----

Once Team W started their show, Sinju followed Qu and Kasumi back to the locker room for a short break. He sat on one of the benches and stretched his legs, "That was hectic."

"It's pretty busy for a weekday," Kasumi chimed in while nodding in agreement.

Qu finished touching up his foundation and gazed at Sinju through the mirror, "Sinju, did something happen yesterday?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Hari and Zakuro were saying something about you not looking too well," Qu said in a concerned tone.

"Oh, that? Can I ask you two a question? You promise to keep it a secret?" Sinju asked, looking back and forth at the friends. They nodded in unison.

"I am thinking about taking my relationship with my girlfriend one step further. Do you two have any suggestions?"

A gentle smile danced on Qu's lips, "Well, you could try to set up the mood. Soft music, roses, candles..."

Kasumi leaned back on the bench and added, "You could start by watching a romantic movie."

The corner of Sinju's lips rose little-by-little as he began to picture the date in his mind. "Sounds perfect."

"Good luck, Sinju." Kasumi patted his shoulder as Qu nodded in agreement.

"Now, shall we get back to our duty?" The silver-haired beauty chuckled and warned the men that their break was coming to an end.

----

The day was almost over. Sinju was one of the last ones left in the store. He opened his locker and started gathering his belonging, humming to himself.

"Sinju, you are still here?"

"I had to finish cleaning. Are you locking up the store today, Kongou?" Sinju closed his locker and made his way to the ex-wrestler.

"Yeah. Are you heading to the train station? If so, mind if we walk together?" Kongou asked politely.

"I'll wait for you at the entrance." Sinju smiled and excused himself.

Locking up the store, the two men walked past a crowd of tourists, giving each one of them a smile. Even at a distance, they could hear the females in the group giggling.

"So, how was your day?" Kongou asked, "I heard floor duty was an adventure today."

"Yeah, there were so many demands. I am sure you were super busy in the kitchen."

"It was busy, but at least there were no accidents." Kongou laughed.

Silence filled the air as the two men walked past a usually busy park. A light breeze ruffled a few of Sinju's loose hair strands. "Hey Kongou, do you have a girlfriend?"

Surprised by the sudden question, the tall man turned his head towards Sinju, "Well, n-no, but why do you ask?"

Realizing that he may sound nosy, the young boy quickly apologized, "Oh, s-sorry. I have received a lot of good tips today about how to treat my girlfriend, but I want to ask you for your opinion as well."

"Treat as in?"

"Get c-close to her." He whispered and puffed his cheek.

Though Kongou was taken aback by the question, he found Sinju's expressions to be quite cute. Clearing his throat, he spoke calmly, "Since it sounds like your first time, I suggest you pay heavy attention to foreplay to get both of you ready. Also remember to use protection."

Sinju nodded and thanked Kongou for his advice before parting ways with him. While on the train, he took out his phone and texted you.

Sinju: Are you free the day after tomorrow? You: I have all the time in the world for you.❤️ Sinju: 😀 Then, do you want to come over to my house? Um...in the evening?

Not seeing an immediate reply, almost made Sinju regret asking you. ‘Did I scare her off? Does she think I’m moving too fast? Maybe she isn’t ready.’ DING. DING. DING.

Sinju was startled to hearing his notification going off. He scrambled to unlock his phone, nearly dropping it in the process. An elder lady sitting across from him even asked him to calm down. Apologizing to her, the nervous boy opened your messages.

You: I would love to come over. About time you asked. You: AHHH I can’t wait!!! You: See you in two days! ❤️❤️❤️

Though you sent him three messages, Sinju’s eyes were glued to the first message. He kept reading it over and over.

“...but ask yourself, is she doing anything out of the usual?”

Kei’s words echoed in Sinju’s ears. ‘What does she mean by ‘about time I asked’? Does this mean...she has been waiting for me to make a move?’

----

Sinju spent the entire morning jumping from one shop to another. He wanted to make the date night as perfect as he possibly could. After all, this was going to be the best night of your life as well as his. After nearly spending three hours picking out items, he returned to his home and began to decorate the living room.

Evening came around, and Sinju got dressed in his finest white shirt and black dress pants. He dabbed a bit of your favorite cologne on his neck and fixed his hair.

Knock. Knock.

Sinju nearly ran to the door after hearing the knocking. He took a deep breath and opened the door, "Hey, (Y/N). How-"

The words got caught in his throat when his eyes landed on you. Sinju slowly moves his eyes downwards, taking in your short plunging V-neck, spaghetti strap, red lace dress. No one told him that you would dress this way for the date.

"So? How do I look?" You asked, twirling around, causing the ruffle hem of your dress to lift a little.

Sinju quickly averted your eyes and mumbled, "You look g-great. Come in."

As soon as you stepped in, you were stunned by the effort your boyfriend put into the decoration. Candles were methodically placed to create a pathway leading to a petal covered coffee table. Amidst the red rose petals laid a dark green wine bottle, a pair of wine glasses, and a snack platter. To add to the atmosphere, Sinju had closed the curtains and shut off the lights.

"Beautiful..."

A grin appeared on Sinju's lips as he took hold of your hand, leading you towards the living area. Sitting you on the sofa, he opened the wine bottle and poured the aromatic dark red liquid into both glasses.

Once you were comfortable, Sinju turned on the TV and started the movie he had picked. A few minutes into the movie, Sinju's gaze meandered over at your legs. How he wished that your dress would slide up just a little more so he could get a glimpse of - he caught his wandering mind and forced his attention back to the TV screen.

You leaned your head on his shoulder, making him smile. He leaned over to kiss the top of your head when he saw an unavoidable view - your pushed up mounds nearly spilling out of your dress. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't avert his gaze. His pants were becoming too tight for his liking.

'Patience. Have patience.' He reminded himself, tapping his foot in a rhythmic pattern. You felt his eyes on you but decided to ignore it for the time being.

Then it came on - the scene Sinju had been waiting for. The actor and actress drew near, pressing their lips firmly together. Not a moment later, their clothes were flying left and right. Both of you were speechless as you gawked at their naked bodies melting together. You slowly shifted your eyes to meet Sinju's orange ones.

'This is my chance.' He leaned down closer to your face, eyes staring straight into yours. You eagerly waited for his warm lips, but instead, his nose collided with yours, causing both of you to pull back.

"S-sorry." Sinju had never felt more embarrassed, but your giggle gave him the courage to try again. Once again, leaning in, he tilted his head and met your lips.

The kiss that started sweet had now turned passionate. Sinju rested his hand on one of your exposed legs, not breaking the kiss, and began to stroke up. Rip. Sinju broke the kiss and looked down at your dress. His bracelet got caught on the lace and managed to rip a small portion.

'Why does this keep happening?' Sinju apologized to you, but instead of getting angry, you started laughing.

"Don't worry about it. Forget about that." You whispered and helped free his bracelet, "Where were we?"

Sinju smiled shyly and peppered your face with kisses while running his hand to your back. Not being able to control his excitement, he tried to untie the strings holding up your dress.

"Sinju, what's wrong?" You asked breathlessly.

"You dress is a little complicated to remove." His voice had a range of emotions.

"It's okay, take your time. Meanwhile, let me have a little fun." You whispered playfully and pushed him back on the sofa.

Sinju stared at you with wide eyes while you climbed on top of him, blushing deeply. Running your hands up his chest, you began to unbutton his shirt, wanting to feast your eyes on his muscles.

Being too shocked to move, Sinju ran over the list of things the members had told him. Patience, foreplay, pay attention to her needs, follow instincts, and mood. No one warned him that you would attempt to seduce him. No one warned him that you would be undressing him. NO ONE warned him. He was far from mentally prepared for this.

You stopped when you realized that Sinju was not reacting to your touch; instead, he was staring off into space, looking like he saw a ghost.

"Sinju? What's wrong?"

He shook his head and sat up with you, "N-nothing."

The room went silent. Neither Sinju nor you moved from your place. Everything was supposed to be perfect, but everything was far from perfect. Both of you were disappointed.

Not wanting to face you anymore, Sinju went to get up but accidentally poked the side of your waist, earning a yelp from you.

"Sinju!"

A playful smile slowly appeared on his lips.

"What's that smile for? Sinju? What are you planning to do?" You shifted back on the couch in apprehension.

Out of nowhere, Sinju dug his fingers into your sides and began to tickle you. No matter how many times you asked him to stop, he refused to listen. Grabbing a pillow near you, you began hitting Sinju with it.

Laughter echoed through his apartment. Sinju chased you around his home, trying to tickle you while you grabbed any soft item you could and threw it at him. What was supposed to be a perfect, romantic date night had now turned into a cute date.

Though this was far from what Sinju expected, he knew there was always next time.

#bsts #bsts sinju #blackstar theater starless

37 notes · View notes

erin-bo-berin · 5 years

Text

Faith (Part 2)

If you haven’t read part 1, called Hope, you can read it here

The final part to Hope is here! This is insanely long, the longest I’ve written yet. Not gonna lie I’m really glad I split it into two parts because all together it would’ve been nearly 13k words. Anyway, in this part you’re gonna get some Spencer POV, daddy Spencer (I might have gotten carried away with the cuteness, I apologize in advance) and some smut. Also I might’ve gotten carried away with that part as well, you’ve been warned. Quick fun fact: The Lonesome Bunny was an actual story I wrote in 5th grade that won in a competition. You’ll see that I’m referring to later on in the fic. Enjoy!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Word Count: 8,407

Rated: M (Smut)

So much can happen in a week.

Emily had gotten Spencer a great lawyer; one who happened to be a friend of hers. She reassured you that he was in good hands. Even that reassurance did nothing for the constant state of anxiety that twisted your stomach.

The next step was going to be his hearing. Rossi was already ready to post his bail and get him out of jail while he waited for his trial. The whole team had a moment to breathe, thinking that this next step would be a break in luck.

None of them saw what was coming. You, most of all.

After the shocking result of Spencer’s bail being denied, everyone had to face the fact that he was going to be sitting in a prison cell while awaiting trial. Emily and the rest of the team promised to work their hardest to get him out of there. You believed them, of course you did. But no one prepared you for how it would affect not only you, but your daughter as well.

“Daddy bye bye?”

You ran a hand over her hair, trying to smooth the loose curls before kissing her head.

“Daddy will be back soon.”

You weren’t sure if you were saying the words to comfort Abbie or yourself. Her wails and cries still rang in your ears, the haunting sound breaking your heart a little more each time you remembered them. She was too young to understand what was going on, but it was clear she knew something was wrong. You knew she could sense your stress, your despair.

She laid her head on your shoulder, eyes growing heavy. JJ had just gotten back from taking the boys and Abbie to see Diana. You passed on this initial trip, afraid your emotional state might upset her since she hadn’t any idea what had happened. Even though Diana didn’t understand what was going on in her own ways, you were glad the kids were able to lift her spirits.

Abbie whimpered, fighting sleep, rubbing her fists into her eyes.

“Hey, why don’t I take her and give you a little break?” Penelope said, reaching out to take her.

“Besides I always love some auntie Penelope time,” she grins, rubbing your shoulder, concern showing on her face. “We’re going to get him out of there okay?”

You nod, giving a small smile. She’d given you a visiting schedule she’d made, listing the order of her, you and the team could visit him. You were up second after her because since she’d made the chart, she got to go first—her words. It gave you a small comfort to know you’d be able to see him soon.

•

“What do you mean I’m not on the approved visitor list?!” you exclaimed.

“Spencer made his list of visitors…” Emily trailed off, “And you weren’t on it.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“I don’t know, Y/N,” she said, clearly feeling as helpless as you currently felt.

“So what does he want me to do? Sit at home, take care of Abbie and twiddle my thumbs?!”

You knew this entire situation was crazy. Spencer was going through a lot, the team was going through a lot, but yet your anger came. The only reason it came was to mask the hurt you felt. It was like a punch to the gut when you realized he didn’t even want to see you. With no reason or explanation why. You could get past the personal hurt even if he just wanted you to visit to talk about Abbie. After all, you were only his co-parent.

“I wish I knew what to tell you, Y/N. I can’t begin to imagine what’s going through his head right now.”

“I know, I know.” You rubbed your temples, the beginnings of a headache starting to pound behind your eyes.

“I just wish I could do something. At least you guys are able to work on his case to help and free him. I can’t even do that.”

You swallow, tears once again blurring your vision. You’d tried so hard not to cry in front of Abbie but now it was beginning to catch up to you.

“You’re doing something very important, Y/N.” Emily wrapped her arms around you and hugged you tight.

“Yeah? What’s that?” you mumbled into her shoulder.

She pulls away from you, holding you at arms length with her hands on your shoulders.

“Taking care of that little girl.” She points in the direction of her office window. You look out into the bullpen and Henry sitting at his mom’s desk with Abbie in his lap, both of them coloring.

“You’re taking the absolute best care of her until we can get Spencer out. I know it puts him at ease to know she isn’t alone.”

“How is he?” you asked, knowing she’d been to see him recently.

“Alright for now, he’s gotten some sleep. He was mainly concerned about Abbie and his mom. He didn’t say it, but I could tell her reaction just about broke him.”

“JJ said she cried herself to sleep,” you sighed, wanting nothing more than to scoop your baby up and hold her, to protect her.

“How’s she doing now?”

“Okay, I suppose. She’s been really fussy and clingy ever since it happened, I’m surprised she’s gone to anyone here so well. At home, she won’t even let me out of her sight. She keeps asking about daddy, too.”

“She’s a tough girl. She gets that after both of you.”

“I wish I felt as strong as you think I am.”

“MA MA!” You heard an excited shriek, all the way from the office.

“Yeah, she’s definitely Reid’s kid,” Emily commented.

You shake your head, exasperated, walking out of the office to head down to the bullpen.

“What baby?” you called, descending down the steps.

She’d gotten down from Henry’s lap and was toddling in your direction, a piece of paper in one hand, a crayon gripped in her other.

“Ook!” She held out the paper in your direction and you took it, picking her up in the process.

“It’s beautiful, baby girl,” you smile, looking at the scribbles on the page.

“We’re making pictures for Uncle Spencer,” Henry said, looking up from his own picture.

“I told the kids that they could draw pictures and I’d take them to show him when I go to visit him,” JJ said, “I remember you said that she loves to color and I thought I could take hers as well.”

You smiled, “He’ll like that.”

Looking around at all the lengths his team was going to, to help him made you realize just how much of a family the group was. You could feel their love for him, their determination to work their asses off to free him.

Suddenly, it felt like things might actually turn out okay.

•

38 days.

He’d been keeping track of the days with notches in the wall.

He’d been in prison for 38 days.

In that time Spencer had been jumped by a group of prisoners wanting to attack him since he was fresh meat. He was moved to a private cell. There he encountered even more problems. He was pressured to help move drugs within the prison which he time and time again refused to do. He befriended another prisoner in hopes of keeping him from being attacked only that effort resulted in him being beaten up instead.

The days were long and stretched out. He could feel his sanity slipping a bit more every day. Prison really was a place of desperation. The unthinkable happened inside these four walls.

He missed the team so much. He missed his mom. He missed his little girl. He missed Y/N.

The last time Emily had been to visit him she’d told him only what he expected; Y/N was bewildered, hurt and angry at his decision. He hadn’t said much on the topic. He did what he had to do.

Today’s visitor was JJ. He hadn’t seen her for a few weeks. Apparently there was a whole schedule for visiting him. He was so happy to finally see a familiar face again. It had seemed like weeks since he’d seen any of his friends when in reality—by his makeshift calendar—it had only been 6 days.

“Hey, how are you?” JJ asked, concern brightening her eyes.

“Okay, I guess. Just trying to survive here,” Spencer said.

Her brows furrowed and he knew what was coming next.

“You’re hurt. What happened?”

“It’s nothing, I’m fine. Why aren’t you working on a case?”

“Actually I stayed behind so I could visit you,” she answered.

“You shouldn’t have. You should’ve gone.”

“No. I should be here. You’re not alone in this Spence.”

He nodded, watching her through the glass that separated the two of them as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a few papers.

“Henry drew this for you. See that’s you and that’s him. It’s from that day we went to the park.”

“Tell him it’s beautiful,” he could hear his own voice cracking, “Tell him I love it.”

JJ smiled, folding it again.

“I will.”

She opened another picture, showing scribbles, a heart and what appeared to be stick figures.

“Michael drew this one. He said he thought you needed lots of love while you were away on vacation and that he misses you.”

That brought a slight smile to his face. His youngest godson had quite the imagination and at only 3 had thought up that Spencer was away on vacation. His heart ached with how much he missed them. He watched JJ once again reach for another piece of paper.

“Another drawing?” He laughed dryly.

“I thought you might like to see this one too,” she said softly, “Abbie did this one for you.”

There was nothing but colorful scribbles on the page, the complete normal for an 18-month-old. But this was different because it was made by HIS 18-month-old. His little girl.

Of course he believed in his team that they’d get him out of here and catch Mr. Scratch—the asshole that put him here—but it was truly his baby girl that helped him go on. Abbie gave him faith. He had to have faith that he would get out of here and not give up. If he gave up, she might grow up without a father and he knew from firsthand experience that was the last thing he wanted for his child.

“She’s very artistic.” He tried to laugh, but it came out more of a dry, raspy sound.

“That she is,” JJ smiled.

“How is she?” Spencer whispered.

“Abbie? Or Y/N.”

“You know I mean Abbie.”

“Spence...why don’t you just reconsider your decision. Please?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why not? She’s worried about you. She wants to see you too.”

“Jennifer. I don’t want to talk about this.”

“But Spen-”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it okay?” he snapped.

Her words died mid-sentence and she went quiet.

“I’m sorry JJ,” he ran his hands through his hair, then rubbed his eyes, “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“Have you been sleeping?” JJ’s concerned tone reappeared again.

“Not much.”

“I’m worried about you. We all are. I know this hasn’t been easy on you at all.”

“I can’t even explain it fully, JJ. There’s a sort of helplessness in here that causes people to do things they normally wouldn’t do.”

She seemed to be a loss of words. He didn’t say it to scare her or cause her worry, it was just the truth.

The alarm sounded, signaling that visitation time was up.

“Spencer.”

He looked back at her as he stood to leave.

“Please be careful okay? Keep your head down, don’t attract any unwanted attention.”

He nodded in response.

The hand of a security guard grabbed his arm, escorting him back to his cell. Every step took him back towards his own personal hell and away from the life he once so naively took advantage of.

•

Things didn't turn out okay. Bad news suddenly became the soup du jour.

Every time Emily or JJ, Rossi or Garcia gave you an update your outlook just became bleaker and bleaker. It was affecting everything in your life.

You’d cut the number of the interior jobs you normally did in half, not having the motivation nor the time to complete them. Soon you ended up taking a leave of absence. Fortunately, with the past financial aid of Spencer, you could afford to leave work. Your mood was affecting Abbie more and more, her often crying and wanting her daddy. Most days you felt like crying along with her.

You hated being in the dark. Technically you did get updates about what was happening, but you hadn’t seen him in 3 months. That night at the BAU when he was brought home had been the last time you’d been in his presence. Your anger at him for refusing to see you had faded leaving you feeling drained. You could only imagine how the team felt when they were the one trying their hardest to find Mr. Scratch.

In the last month, Spencer had witnessed his friend die, potentially poisoned and killed some drug dealers—you didn’t ask for specifics on that one—been beaten up pretty badly and stabbed himself to get into protective custody. You had no idea how the hell he’d survived all of this, but he had.

Many of your days were spent at the BAU now. When the group wasn’t off working on other cases they were required to give their attention to, you were at Quantico. How different it was spending so much time in the unit in comparison to 3 years ago. Then, you couldn’t stay long enough. Now, all you wanted was to be anywhere else.

You were seated on the couch in Emily’s office, attempting to keep Abbie preoccupied with a few toys. That was about all you could do now was to keep her attention elsewhere before she became irreconcilable once again.

You were making her favorite bunny plushie kiss her repeatedly causing her to giggle when the door busted open and in ran Penelope.

“Y/N, Y/N! We got him!”

You were so startled by the sudden entrance that you didn’t understand what she was talking about.

“Who?”

“Mr. Scratch. He’s been caught and he confessed to everything. Framing Reid and all of it. Me and JJ are heading to the prison to get him. You’re coming with. Not a question, an order.”

You nod, dazed at the amount of information slung at you and picked up Abbie and her bunny, following behind the tech as fast as you could.

Twenty minutes later, you were waiting outside the prison with Garcia while JJ went to take care of all the legal proceedings that came with freeing Spencer.

You were just picking up Abbie’s bunny that she had purposely dropped on the ground when Garcia spoke.

“Hey, Abbie.”

She turned towards Garcia’s voice.

“Look over there sweet girl. Look who it is,” she pointed ahead.

Abbie looked over just in time to see JJ and Spencer coming out of the front doors. The moment she saw him, she was in action, trying to squirm out of your arms.

You set her down and she went running as fast as her little legs could in his direction, her bunny still in her hand.

“DADDY, DADDY, DADDY!” She shrieked as she ran.

He scooped her up in one swift movement, hugging her close.

“I’ve missed my Abbie-bear.”

He tapped her nose making her scrunch it in response.

“How’s my baby girl?” he asked, pushing her hair back from her forehead and kissing her head.

She babbled in response, holding out her bunny to him, clearly happy to be in his arms again. He kissed the bunny’s nose, then Abbie’s. He did it again only this time playfully attacked her with kisses, making her squeal and giggle.

“Hey, you.” Penelope had gone over to hug him tight while you and JJ stood back.

“You know I always knew he would be a great father, but seeing it in action is even more heartwarming. He’s so great with her,” she said.

“He is,” you agreed.

“He cares about her a lot you know. But not only her.”

JJ gave you a sidelong glance before going to join them, leaving you to puzzle out what her cryptic comment could mean.

•

The aftermath was hectic when you returned to the Bureau. With everyone hugging Spencer and talking to him about the details of Scratch’s capture, you naturally just fell towards the back of the flurry of activity. You noticed the entire time he didn’t let go of Abbie even though she was now sound asleep on his shoulder, her bunny positioned underneath one of her arms and his chest.

You thought you’d heard Rossi say he was going to get some champagne when Spencer finally approached you. Things had never been awkward for the two of you, but they sure felt it now.

“Hey.”

He leaned against the desktop next to where you sat.

“Hey.”

“She’s out cold,” he motioned to Abbie with his head.

“I noticed. She missed her nap today and has been fighting sleep.”

“Poor thing.” He rubbed her back and she stirred slightly, repositioning herself before going back to sleep.

“So, I was actually wondering,” he began, “Would it be okay if I spent some time with her? I’ve just missed her so much. I feel like she’s gotten so big since I last saw her.”

“Sure. That’s fine. I can get you her diaper bag and some things if you want to keep her for the weekend.”

“Actually I meant like the three of us together. If you want to come to my place or...I just mean I feel like we have some things we need to talk about.”

“Well most of her things are at my place,” you said, purposely ignoring the last part of his comment, “So I guess that would be easier and you can spend as much time as you want with her. You know you’re always welcome to.”

“I’m not sure when or if I’ll be able to come back,” he said quietly, “A lot has happened.”

“Yeah. A lot has.”

You could feel the weight of the last months weighing heavily not just on him, but on you two. Things had worked so smoothly between you both up until this point that you couldn’t help but wonder if this would be too much strain. Some things you just can’t come back from.

Emily noticed the last time she’d visited, just how much prison had changed him. He was suffering from bad PTSS—post-traumatic stress syndrome. He was having nightmares, not sleeping, constantly battling the demons of what he’d had to face in those short months. Emily never said as much, but you knew how close he’d come to death by the hands of the inmates.

Everyone was mentally and emotionally exhausted. They’d all been granted six weeks off work to rest, Spencer especially. He’d have to see a therapist as well and retest before he could even be considered for reinstatement.

“Emily thought it would be best if I wasn’t alone for now.”

“That’d be wise,” you agreed.

“She suggested I stay with you…” he trailed off nervously.

You were caught off guard and found yourself staring at him, most likely resembling a deer in headlights.

“I mean she just thought being around Abbie would help me a lot and you...”

You had no idea what he was going to say and unfortunately, he didn’t finish his sentence. You couldn’t possibly turn him away at a time like this, even if you desperately didn’t want to have to deal with your complicated feelings about him.

“Uh yeah. That’s fine. She’ll love having you around more.”

The two of you had never shared a living space for more than one night. There was no telling what the next six weeks would bring.

•

The first month was rough. Not only for him but for you as well.

Spencer would often wake in the middle of the night screaming from nightmares, resulting in waking Abbie. He felt so bad about it he’d often force you to go back to bed and sit up with Abbie until she fell asleep again.

One night, you’d been on the way back from the bathroom when you heard the soft rise and fall of his voice. Peeking into the nursery, you saw Spencer in the rocking chair with Abbie in his lap, a book opened in front of them.

When he turned the page, you caught a glimpse of the cover: The Lonesome Bunny, one of Abbie’s favorite books.

“The little bunny was so sad before,” Spencer frowned, pointing to a picture on the page.

Abbie cooed in response, looking up at him as he read.

“But now he was happy, knowing he was loved by all his friends. The end.”

Spencer closed the book and Abbie immediately reached forward and opened it again.

“No.”

“You want me to read it again?” Spencer asked, chuckling when she nodded.

“Princess, I’ve read it to you twice already.”

“No.” Her hands tried to turn the pages back to the beginning.

“Oh, alright. Once more and then it’s time to go back to sleep okay?” He kissed her cheek then turned back to the first page.

“There once was a little bunny, a lonesome little bunny.”

You smiled at the memory, staring up at the ceiling of your bedroom as you lay in bed, procrastinating getting up to start your day. It was a luxury you weren’t used to. Having Spencer around had been great because the help with Abbie was nice. He seemed to be getting better too. He still suffered from his demons and the nightmares still happened but not nightly like they once did.

It now had been 5 months since he was released. Things were seeming to finally get better. Spencer was reinstated—with a rule that every 100 days he worked in the field, he had to take 30 days off. He was initially disappointed at the decision, feeling like it wasn’t a full reinstatement. Emily reassured him it was for him to recharge mentally and physically and most importantly to spend time with his family. Now, he’d taken it in stride and loved the extra daddy-daughter time; Abbie was happy as she could be. The only thing that hadn’t changed in the least bit was the tension in your relationship with Spencer.

You got along alright, you just never talked about what had happened. Prison or his downright objection to seeing you was never spoken of. Of cours,e you were there to help him through his trauma, but you avoided any and every conversation having to do with the two of you. If it had to do with Abbie or any other subject, you could talk to him for hours. You just didn’t have the energy to unravel your feelings, nor get his no relationship wanted reply.

Yesterday was the beginning of his first 30 day stint of time off. Spencer being Spencer, he treated you and Abbie to a day at the zoo, anxious to teach her all about the animals.

“Just wait until she’s old enough to really understand and retain what she’s learning. She’s going to have a vast knowledge of things just because of you,” you’d said, smiling while he helped Abbie feed a giraffe.

He turned towards you, squinting against the sun and smiled big.

“I want only the best for my little girl,” he had responded.

His smile was as bright as the sun, his eyes glinting from the happiness he obviously felt. A light breeze floated through the air, rustling the waves and curls of his hair ever so slightly. Your heart fluttered and it was at that moment you knew you could no longer deny the fact that you were in love with him.

Emily had been telling you the same thing for months, telling you that you had to admit it sooner or later because the moment of truth would hit you eventually. The moment of truth had finally come.

You were in love with the Halloween loving, chopstick hating, kickass profiler, amazing father, 187 IQ’d pretty boy that was Spencer Reid; and you were finally ready to tell him.

•

You glanced at the clock and were surprised to see it was already 9:30. You hadn’t stayed in bed that long since before Abbie had been born.

Noises from the kitchen pulled you out of your bed. You padded down the hallway, smiling when you heard Abbie’s babbling.

“What’s going on?” you asked.

You walk into the kitchen and see Spencer at the stove, Abbie’s high chair pulled up to the cabinet near him.

“Wel,l Abbie-bear here wanted to help daddy fix breakfast. Isn’t that right sweetheart?”

You look over and see your child sitting in her high chair with chocolate smeared all over her face and hands, grinning big.

“Technically she was supposed to be adding the chocolate chips to the pancake batter, but she decided to eat the handful instead,” he chuckled.

“It’s the thought that counts right?” you laughed, grabbing a baby wipe from the pack on the counter.

You clean her face and hands as best as you can with her trying to squirm away from the wet cloth.

“You’re silly aren’t you?” you smile, handing her a fresh cup of juice.

“No,” she giggled in response.

“You didn’t have to make breakfast Spencer.”

He shrugged.

“I wanted to. I figure since I kinda live here at the moment I can at least help you out.”

He added another finished pancake to the growing plate of pancakes then poured the last remaining pancake batter to make a tiny one.

“This one is especially for you Abbie because it’s just your size, see?”

He stepped aside, letting her see the small pancake on the griddle. She smiled around the spout of her sippy cup as she drank her apple juice.

“Thank you for making breakfast.”

You stood on your tiptoes and quickly kissed his cheek, a simple act of gratitude. At least you hoped that’s what it conveyed. You’d turned to grab a mug for some coffee and when you faced him again you saw he was staring at you.

“What?” you asked, suddenly self-conscious that you were in ratty old pajamas and your hair probably standing up in numerous directions.

The spell seemed to be broken when you spoke. He scrunched his nose in the cute little way he always did, turning back to the stove.

“Nothing, nothing.”

Ten minutes later the three of you were at the table pigging out on pancakes. You tore Abbie’s pancake into smaller pieces and she was currently grabbing them with both hands, managing to get more on her than actually in her.

“Did you always want kids?” Spencer asked, watching you hand her a small piece of your bacon.

“That’s a random question,” you chuckled, picking up your fork again.

He shrugged a shoulder.

“Just curious.”

“Yeah, I always knew I wanted kids one day,” you answered.

“But not at 24, right?”

You winced, thinking of how in shock you were when you found out you were pregnant. You were 23 almost 24 when you’d initially met Spencer. He’d been 34 even though he easily passed for your age. You really understood what it meant that age didn’t matter. He was nearly 11 years older than you, but a majority of the time you didn’t even remember.

“I mean I don’t blame you. When I was 24, I was only in my second year of working at the BAU. Kids were absolutely the last thing on my mind,” he said.

“It’s not that. I was just scared knowing that from that point on I was responsible for this tiny, fragile little human that would depend on me for the rest of my life. It was even scarier to think just how much she needed me, even during pregnancy. But I wouldn’t change having her for anything. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“She definitely is amazing, isn’t she?”

Abbie reached out towards him, a piece of pancake in her fingers.

“Daddy.”

He leaned towards her and took the bite in his mouth in which she smiled happily.

“Thank you baby girl.”

She started fussing, reaching for him, wanting out of her high chair.

“What about you? Did you never want kids or something?”

He lifted the tray off and unfastened her from the chair, taking her in his lap.

“I didn’t say that,” he said matter of factly, but not in a mean tone, “I just said at 24 I wasn’t thinking about kids.”

“Okay, so what changed your mind then?” You took another bite of pancake and chewed, waiting for his answer.

“I don’t know. It was different things. Encountering kids at work, being the godfather to Michael and Henry. I always loved kids. I just didn’t think it was going to happen for me because work kept me so busy. Then one day I realized I’m 36 and I don’t know if I’ll ever have kids. Then this little munchkin came about unexpectedly,” he said, tickling her tummy.

“I never knew if it would be a reality for me, but I’ve imagined having a big family before. Big house, lots of kids and toys everywhere, it just seemed nice and completely different from my childhood. I mean it was just me and my parents. Then my dad left and it was my mom and me. I just figured maybe having a big family of my own would fill that loneliness I felt as a kid, you know?”

“That’s sweet,” you smiled, “I understand what you’re saying. Who knows though? Maybe you still will. How many kids are there in your imagined future?”

“Uh, I don’t know. Maybe 5 or 6.”

You almost choked on your coffee.

“You poor future wife,” you sputtered.

“I don’t know, I have a feeling she’ll be the type to be cut out for half a dozen kids.”

There’s a small smile on his lips as he feeds another piece to an open-mouthed Abbie. He doesn’t look up to catch your questioning look though.

“These pancakes are amazing by the way.”

You’d just finished up your third and Abbie was still shoveling hers in.

“I think she agrees.”

“Well thank you,” he grinned.

Spencer hands Abbie to you and you take her, cleaning her face.

“What’s on today’s agenda?” you ask, pulling her hands away from the coffee mug she was trying to grab.

“Actually, JJ is taking Abbie today.”

“What? Why?”

“Well, the boys have missed her and have been begging to see her again. I also think it’s time to finally talk about what we’ve been tiptoeing around for months, Y/N.”

You felt yourself stiffen. Sure, you may have just decided the day before that you wanted to finally confess your feelings to him, but you didn’t want to have to deal with all the other things. Unfortunately for you, it went hand in hand and you knew he was right.

“Y/N, please. I know you’re still upset about things that happened when I was in prison. But you do know we need to talk about them eventually.”

“I know,” you whispered; the buried feelings from those horrible months coming to the surface again.

“Let’s go get her dressed. JJ should be here by 10.”

Spencer took her from you, setting her down on her feet.

“How about a race, pumpkin? I’ll race you to your room.”

Abbie shrieked, taking off on her little legs, Spencer behind her, pretending to be way behind.

“She’s off to a wonderful start, look at that form as she runs!” Spencer’s voice came from the hall as if he were narrating an actual race, “Oh no, she’s beating me! She’s rounding the corner! She’s at the last stretch of the mile! IT’S OFFICIAL! Abrielle Jade Reid is the winner!”

You hear squealing and her giggles ascend in what you assume is caused by Spencer picking her up.

You stare at the place where he was sitting minutes before, remembering something Emily had told you days earlier.

“Abbie may be almost 2, but she has faith in you and Spencer every single day. She may not know what it is, but as her parents, she quite literally trusts you with her life. So why can’t you have that kind of faith in Spencer?”

•

An hour later it’s just you and Spencer left in the house. You weren’t proud to say that you had hidden out in your bedroom while he was assisting JJ with Abbie’s car seat outside, your attempt at prolonging the start of the conversation.

You heard the front door close and his footsteps getting closer to your room. You sat your phone aside when he walked in and sat up against the pillows.

“I’m gonna talk and you’re gonna listen. Okay?”

It wasn’t often that you heard Spencer sound so stern, the steely tone of his voice unfamiliar. But you currently felt like a student in the principal’s office about to face punishment. He didn’t wait for you to answer before he continued.

“I’m going to tell you about what happened to me in prison.” His voice was gentler now, but you saw by his face that he was serious.

“Spencer-”

His hard look silenced you.

“I want to do this. I can’t tell you why I chose not to see you until I tell you this.”

So he told you.

And you listened.

He told you about the fear he constantly lived with of being discovered as a fed, while in prison. He told you how he tried to help another inmate that was being targeted which only ended up in himself being beaten up and later, the same friend being murdered in front of him. How an inmate he mistook as a friend was actually the most dangerous prisoner there; he controlled everything and everyone and tried his hardest to control Spencer too. How his mind seemed to adapt to the line of thinking of the others. It was either do what you have to do or get killed. He explained that he did something terrible, something that he would’ve never imagined he’d ever do but was forced to do it to spare his own life. He confessed how much it scared him, that prison had turned him into a monster. He told you how painful it was reliving the events as he worked to heal in therapy. He indeed told you everything.

It hurt like hell hearing every detail, each of his words etched with pain and bad memories. He didn’t continue for a few quiet minutes after he finished recounting everything. His eyes were closed, as if trying to erase the pain of the old wounds freshly opened. You reached out towards him, putting your hand on top of his. When he opened his eyes, he looked down at your hand over his.

Without a word, he turned his hand in yours until your fingers laced through his perfectly.

“The team is used to seeing things like this. Even though it was me in there, one of their own, they knew to expect the worst. They see bad things every day. But I couldn’t do that to you. I couldn’t let you see me like that. It would have completely broken you.”

He paused, swallowing hard before continuing.

“My job is to see horrible things and look how prison impacted me. How do you think I’d feel knowing I was responsible for putting you through so much pain? It was never about not wanting to see you. It was about protecting you, about keeping you oblivious to the true horrors of what it’s like in there. I was so afraid you wouldn’t be able to handle it. All I wanted to do was protect you and Abbie.”

You didn’t know exactly when you’d began crying, but now you felt the tears streaming quickly down your face. Months of pent up emotions came pouring out of you all at once.

“All I wanted to do was to see you! I wasn’t able to do anything to help you and then I’m told I couldn’t even see you? I had never felt so helpless.”

“Please don’t cry.”

He moved to where he could sit closer to you, concern etching his features. Pulling his hand out of yours, he put a hand on your face, wiping your tears.

“It wasn’t my intention to hurt you. Please believe me.”

“I know. I believe you.”

Your faces were mere inches apart by now and his eyes searched your face, repeatedly glancing down at your lips. All it would take was a hair of movement and your lips would be connected. You felt the tempting pull, wanting to kiss him badly, yet you stayed still, the moment seeming to stretch on.

“We can’t,” you whispered.

He was so close, you felt the breath of his words against your lips.

“Why not?”

He made the final move and kissed you. You didn’t fight it anymore. It was like having a drink of water after suffering from an agonizing thirst. His lips felt familiar, they were familiar but it’d been an awfully long time since you felt them against yours.

Your lips moved with his, parting every few kisses before reconnecting them to his. It was slow, sensual and full of love. All of your love for him was poured into the kiss, but you knew that was just your take on it. For you, this right now felt like coming home.

He inched you backwards until you were pressed up against your pillows once again with him hovering over you, his mouth not leaving yours once.

“I swear I didn’t intend to start something like this,” he murmured against your lips, between kisses.

“Not,” you paused as he kissed you again, “Complaining.”

Your hands moved over his chest and up his shoulders until your arms were wrapped around his neck. He was intoxicating and you were taking in as much of him as you could before this ended once again.

He pushed your pillows off the bed towards the floor, laying you flat against the bed. Though every time you’d been together hadn’t been fast and rough, you’d never taken it this slow with him before. The slow, intense kiss came to a standstill when he gently raked his teeth over your bottom lip before pulling away from you.

With his hands on your hips, he pushed them upwards, taking the bottom of your shirt up as well.

“Wait,” you grabbed his wrist, looking up at him.

“A-Are you sure you want to?” you asked hesitantly, not entirely confident his head was in the right place for something like this.

“I’m fine, Y/N. I’m positive.”

You raised your arms as he pulled the shirt over your head.

“Besides,” he paused to unbutton his shirt, “I want to take my time with you.”

You bit your lip, his words sending a warm flush all throughout your body. You helped him remove his shirt and pants at the same time because suddenly all you wanted was to feel his body against yours. After a lackadaisical kiss he began his descent downwards.

His lips moved down your chest with soft kisses, a trail of them placed just above the cups of your bra. He reached behind you to unfasten it, slowly pulling each strap down your shoulder, his mouth following closely behind his hands.

He kissed each shoulder, your collar bones and breasts, his tongue softly flicking over both nipples in turn. You gasped, feeling goosebumps prickle your arms. His sloth like pace was both thrilling and agonizing at the same time.

More followed down your belly, his fingers gently brushing the few stubborn stretch marks pregnancy had left behind. He paused briefly at your hip, sucking on it then running his tongue over the small bruise he’d created there.

“Mmm,” you hummed as he pushed your legs apart gently, clearly anticipating his next move.

Surprising you, he didn’t do what you thought he would. His lips brushed the top of your underwear, half on your skin, half on the fabric.

“Spence,” you moaned softly wanting more than what he was giving.

“I love it when you call me that,” he said, voice thick with desire.

He licked his lips, looking up at you, eyes locked on yours as he pulled the silky item off you, hands trailing down your thighs, then back up. His gaze lingered on yours a beat longer, the intensity of it taking your breath away. You were the absolute center of his attention and he was relishing every bit of you. He was known to drive you crazy, but this was on a whole new level. There was something more intimate, more sensual about this that made you feel even more vulnerable in his presence.

His kisses traveled your thighs next, moving dangerously close to the area you were wanting him most. Just when you thought his next movement would be his mouth on your core, he would move in the opposite direction, much to your dismay.

Back again he went, mouth moving in the right direction and-

“Oh my god,” you moaned, not even able to finish your previous thought.

The sly devil had distracted you just enough so that you weren’t expecting when his finger slid inside you, rubbing against you deliciously. If you thought that was mind-blowing enough, you almost lost your shit when his tongue met your clit before sucking gently.

You weren’t entirely sure if it was because it had been a long, long time since you’d had any sexual escapades or if it was just Spencer in general, but all coherent thought left your mind the longer he worked you.

Your hand grips his hair, your breath coming in rapid pants signaling your oncoming release.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck Spencer!” you half gasped, half moaned as your climax hit you, robbing you of your breath for a few seconds.

When you opened your eyes again, he was hovering over you, a small smirk on his face.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you chuckled.

He hummed, “I’m not done yet sweetheart.”

Sometime during your current shared kiss, his boxers were removed and he pushed into you. He moaned into your mouth, his tongue twirling with yours.

His tantalizing movements made you able to feel every bit of him as he moved in and out of you repeatedly. Your earlier wish was granted as now your bodies were pressed against one another, moving as one.

“Feels incr-” he groaned mid-sentence.

“Incredible,” he breathed.

You couldn’t argue that. Somehow all the other times didn’t hold a candle to right now.

Your hands gripped his biceps, giving in and begging him to pick up his pace. His hands hooked behind your thighs pulling you closer at the exact moment as a thrust of his hips causing you both to moan. His forehead fell against yours as your hips rocked to the new rhythm.

“You okay?” he whispered, watching you.

“God, yes,” you half laughed, half moaned.

His hands hadn’t stayed still the entire time, moving from one place to another, his touch gentle as if he were touching fine china. Whether they were stroking your hips, splayed across your stomach or resting on the side of your neck as he kissed you deeply your whole body automatically responded to his touch without you realizing it.

Fire filled your veins and your body easily arched into his, more than ready to let that fire consume your senses. Your body inadvertently clenched around him and a growl came from deep within his throat, his teeth scraping over his bottom lip.

You’d often seen his face of concentration, the creased brow and the tip of his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth. That was the same expression he wore now, determined to shatter you for a second time. You couldn’t even begin to process how the hell it was adorable and sexy at the same time.

The two of your movements become more hurried and erratic, the air hot with pants and moans. His fingers dig into your sides as his orgasm hit him.

“Oh god I love you,” Spencer moans into your neck as he succumbs to his high, your name falling from his lips.

Your breathing is suddenly heavier and not solely because of your own building climax, but because of his words. You don’t have a moment nor a clear head to think about what was just said as you’re a whimpering and writhing mess underneath him, the heavy knot in your stomach coiling tighter and tighter. You feel yourself coming apart at the seams, as if all your nerve endings are ready to burst into oblivion.

Spencer knows you well because within a short time of his own release he sends you falling into an abyss of ecstasy, caressing you and kissing you anywhere and everywhere he can, the entire time. You’re pretty sure it takes you a few minutes to breathe properly again.

Afterwards, he gently nudges your cheek with his nose and you turn to face him, kissing him softly once again. You can’t possibly wrap your head around what had just happened. It wasn’t normal sex like you used to have with him. This was tender, passionate, but hot. Probably the hottest you’d had. Then you remembered what he’d said.

Was it sincere or was it just in the heat of the moment?

•

Both of you lay quietly for a while; so long you’re almost sure that Spencer fell asleep.

“I have to tell you something,” you finally said, halfway hoping he was already asleep.

“Hmm?” he asked, looking over at you.

“Before I tell you, I just want you to know that I appreciate what you did for me and Abbie even though I didn’t show it at the time. I’m grateful that you told me all you did earlier and I’m so sorry you had to go through that. I don’t know what I’d have done if-”

“Y/N, you’re rambling,” he chuckled, aware he’s guilty of the same thing at times too.

“Right. Well, I wanted to tell you I love you. Actually, I’m in love with you. I had to tell you because I just realized that I can’t deny it anymore and even though you probably don’t feel the same way, you deserve to know.”

He’d been watching you intently the entire time you’d been speaking. He licked his lips before responding.

“I meant it, you know.”

You looked over as he rolled over on his side and rested his head in his hand. You were confused as that wasn’t the immediate reaction you’d expected.

“Meant what?”

“That I love you. I saw your face when I said it.”

“My face?”

“Y/N, I’m not a profiler for nothing. You were freaking out because I said it.”

“Yes, but not for the reason you think.”

“Then why?” he asked.

“I didn’t know if you actually meant it or if it was just you know, the sex making you talk.”

“Well, I did mean it. I’ve been in love with you for a while, you know.”

You laugh incredulously, unable to believe that all this time he’d actually felt the same way as you.

“You have? Since when?”

“I’m not sure when exactly. It just kinda hit me one day that you were the one person I couldn’t get off my mind, the one who knows me better than most. I just didn’t know how or if to say it. It kind of slipped out accidentally earlier.”

“I just assumed it was because of the sex,” you chuckled.

“Oh believe me, the sex will definitely make me say it as well. Repeatedly.”

His lips twisted into a smirk as his hand glides over your stomach, pulling you close for a kiss.

“I love you.” He paused for a kiss.

“I love you,” Another kiss followed.

“I love you.” A third.

He retreated, laying back next to you.

“I can’t thank you for all that you’ve done for me these last few months. I wouldn’t have been able to get better without you by my side.”

You smiled, happy to see some of the old Spencer you knew and loved peeking through once again. Prison may have changed him, but he was still Spencer in all the ways that mattered.

“So what does this mean for us then?” you asked, watching his fingers glide lazily over your skin.

“I mean we’ve sort of been a couple for nearly 2 years now, so now it’s just us finally being smart and admitting it,” he smiled, “But if you want me to be official, I want you to be mine. My only girl. Well, besides Abbie. Can’t forget her.”

“No, definitely can’t forget her.”

“I want to be a family. If that’s okay with you, that is.” He added the last part hesitantly.

You put your hand over his, stopping his motions then twining your fingers with his.

“That’s more than okay with me,” you smiled up at him.

Maybe good things had come from all the bad.

You lay in a comfortable silence after that, simply enjoying each other’s company. It was Spencer who spoke next.

“You know what got me through the long days in prison?” he asked.

You shook your head, “No, what?”

“I thought about Abbie a lot of course. I had faith I would see her again. Also, I had faith in the BAU, I knew the team would do their jobs and work their asses off to get me out of there. But that’s not all.”

“At the end of the day, after all my misfortune, I knew faith would lead me back to my family.”

Tags: @wefracturedmotivation @rt8815 @pastanest

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #dr spencer reid fic #Spencer Reid fic #spencer reid gifs #spencer reid smut #Criminal Minds #criminal minds gifs #criminal minds fic #criminal minds smut

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what-if-i-imagine · 5 years

Text

Promises, Hugs, and Kisses

When he first moved to Hawkins, Indiana, Lucas Sinclair wanted nothing more than to go back to the city. That is, until he met Will Byers, a timid boy who was the only resident of the town to catch his six year old interest on the first day of kindergarten. As they grow up constantly showing each other affection through hugs and kisses, Lucas builds a list of promises in his head to try and protect Will from the very cruel world they live in.

In which Lucas and Will are casually in love with each other throughout their childhood but Lucas starts cracking down through the events of sessions one and two.

Lucas Sinclair had just recently moved to Hawkins, Indiana with his parents and eight month old sister, and he hated it. His parents told him over and over that this was for the best. They would be closer to his uncle Jack, and the small town life would be good for him and Erica’s development, whatever that meant. He still hated it though, and hated everyone in it. They were all boring cookiecutter husks of people that he had seen on the sitcoms and soap operas his mom watched, everyone of them just like the ones before. There was no one interesting for his six year old brain to latch onto, leaving him in a constant state of tired boredom

Lucas had met the Wheelers briefly during the barbecue they were invited to their first week in the cul-de-sac. The Wheelers were a perfect example of literally every boring family in town.They were okay enough people, but dull and plastic. Their son, Mike, was more interesting than most people he had met in the town, but he talked far too much for Lucas’s usual liking in conversations. He couldn't find it in himself to hold enough interest in the boy or his family or his town to last him more than five minutes.

The first day of kindergarten came, and of course, he didn't know anyone and made no attempts at knowing anyone. He had overheard his father the night before expressing the same feelings as him about the town. He knew that it was only a matter of time before his parents asked him if he wanted to go back home. Back to Indianapolis. So there was no point in talking to anyone he didn't have to.

Lucas got home from school to find his mom was already getting started on dinner and his dad was still at work. When he had nothing to report of the days events, his mother sent him outside to play in the front yard so she could have some quiet time while Erica napped. He went out and tried to entertain himself, for his mother’s sake, but ended up just laying on his back on the grass, staring at the sky as his brain tried to find something in the cloud for stimulus. Even the clouds were boring here, resembling the exact shape a kid would draw for them.

Then it happened. The Wheeler’s second car, the one he always saw Mrs. Wheeler driving, pulled into the next door driveway. Mike climbed out of the side facing the Sinclair yard, but another pair off feet could be seen under the car, tattered sneakers that Lucas didn't recognize. A boy, smaller than Mike by a lot, ran around the back of the car to grab onto his arm. He looked startled and out of his element, brown bowl cut fluttering around his head as he nervously took in his surroundings. He wore a colorful sweater- something lucas could only ever imagine a girl pulling off- under a pair of obviously second hand overalls. His bowl cut was home done, unlike most kids he had seen that day, the back of it cut slightly crooked like this was his parents first time doing it. For the first time since they got here last month, Lucas felt his interest peak.

“Micheal, help me with the groceries,” he could hear Mrs. Wheeler say as she went to unlock the trunk. When the small boy tried to reach for the bags and help too, Mrs. Wheeler shooed him away. “No William. Go ahead and wait out here, Mike will come out when all the groceries are away.”

She and Mike disappeared into the house with arms full of groceries, leaving the small boy alone in the driveway. His eyes were wide, staring at the front door as if looking away would make it disappear. Anytime a loud car on the busy road leading to the cul-de-sac would pass, the boy would flinch and dig the tip of his right shoe into the pavement ready to run. After a few minutes passed without Mike reamirging from the house, Lucas decided to make his move.

“Hey you!” he yelled, causing the boy to flinch harder than he had before. He looked over like a startled animal caught at the end of a hunter’s gun. Lucas stood from the grassy lawn and waved his hand, beaconing the boy to him.

When the boy didn't move, he tried again, “You know it’s rude to ignore people! Come here!”

The boy spared one last long glance at the Wheeler’s front door before timidly making his way into the Sinclair yard, stopping at the edge of the grass. Up close, Lucas took in just how small the boy was. He looked more the size of a three year old than a five year old, every proportion seemingly too small to be right. HIs hands were as small as the rest of him with delicate fingers that had the remains of crayon stuck under his nails. On his overalls Lucas could see where paint and dirt stains had been scrubbed at futally, causing the denim to wear out without the stains being removed completely. Up close he could tell just how ill fitting the overalls were, as a clothespin was hooked under both the boy’s arms. His shoes were going to fall apart any day now, either constantly used by him or second hand like his overalls, most likely both with chalk and scuffs covering the once vibrant red surface.

“My name is Lucas Sinclair,” Lucas introduced, holding out his hand. The boy glanced up for a moment, then back down. He shook his hand, but didn't give a name in return. Lucas noted how the boy barely grabbed his hand during the shake, and how his hand trembled ever so slightly in his grip.

“I live next door to Mike,” he explained as if it weren't obvious. “I’m in kindergarten too.”

The boy nodded.

“My dad was in the air force. We move around a lot. He works as a lawyer in town now. My mom is a lawyer too, but she's staying home to take care of my baby sister Erica for now.”

Another nod.

“Don't you talk at all?”

Another nod.

“Then talk.”

“William Byers,” the boy said quietly but loud enough to be heard. Lucas could tell the boy had a naturally quiet voice, like his auntie or the girl he knew from preschool that was still carrying around his first kiss.

“What?” he said anyways, in hopes the boy would talk more. As quiet as it was, his voice was nice for the two words he spoke.

“I’m-m William Byers,” the boy looked up at him now, up though his bangs and eyelashes. Now that he was having to say more than just his name, Lucas could hear how bad the boy’s stutter was. “Th-that’s my n-n-name. My family and M-M-Mike call m-me Will.”

“Anything else Will?”

Lucas grinned at the sight of the boy, of Will, thinking so hard about his next response. His nose crinkled a little and he looked down, but only with his eyes this time. It was like speech was some grand mystery to him that he was desperately grasping at straw to figure out. He thought for a long while, nipping at his lip every so often. When he looked up again, he only seemed more nervous than before.

“M-m-my mama works at M-Melvald’s General Store in town, and m-my daddy works somewhere...I-I think,” he said meekly, shoulder raising to his ears.

“You think?”

“M-my brother says he gets f-fired a lot.”

“You have a brother?” Lucas sat down on the grass, motioning for Will to follow. When he did sit with him, still not on the grass, he drew his knees to his chest to rest his chin on them, taking up as little space as possible.

“His n-name is Jonathan. He’s f-four years older than m-me,” Will was able to look straight at Lucas when they sat like this. Part of Lucas enjoyed not having to look down, the other part missed the sight of the shorter boy having to look up. “He likes taking pictures a lot. He’s really shy, so no one ever notices him doing it.”

“Is everyone in your family quiet?” Lucas asked, leaning forward a bit. His own family was always bursting with so much noise. Even his quiet and well mannered auntie could get loud and oozing with confidence like the rest of the Sinclairs if she was given enough drinks.

“No,” Will shook his head, pulling Lucas out of his thoughts. He was picking at the crayon shavings under his nails, no longer making eye contact. “M-Mama and Daddy are really loud people. Mama likes to yell at m-men who tell her what to do, and she really likes t-talking to-to-to people. Daddy likes t-talking to people to-too, but he never yells at p-people outside t-the house.”

“So then why are you and your brother shy?”

Will shrugged, “Ma-Mama says that her and Daddy m-must have used up all of our voices be-before we were born. Daddy says I’m dre-ad-ful at talking.”

“He’s right,” Will’s face went pink and he buried it in his knees, curling in tighter on himself. Lucas felt gilt rise up in his chest, and he wanted nothing more than to make him feel better at that moment.

“Sorry,” Lucas mumbled. “That sounded mean. I didn't mean for it to sound mean.”

He waited another moment before scooting forward and nudging at Will’s shoe with his own, “Keep talking, please? I like the sound of your voice.”

Will peaked up as if to make sure he wasn't joking before uncurling just a bit. He watched Lucas for any sign of sarcasm or humor before nodding.

“M-my brother likes m-music. It’s loud. M-Mama says that's where the rest of his loudn-ness must go.”

“Where does she think the rest of yours goes?” Lucas asked, encouraging him to keep going.

“She isn't sure yet,” he bit his lip.

“Where do you think it goes?”

Will bit the corner of his lip, “I-I don't think I ever had any.”

“I’m sure you do. It’s just hiding right now,” Lucas’s grin returned. Will smiled back fully, and if Lucas was honest with himself, that smile fuled him for the rest of the week.

The sound of the Wheeler’s front door bursting opened startled them both. As Mike ran outside, both boys sprang to their feet, and Lucas could feel a sowel pulling at the corner of his lips. Mike barely even noticed Lucas’s presence, and all of Will’s attention dragged to the Wheeler boy.

“My mom said we can play in the basement if we’re careful,” Mike said when Lucas tuned in after a moment to what he was saying.

“O-okay. I’ll m-meet you down there,” Will said with a wide smile. Mike ran off back to the house, and before following, turned back too Lucas with a shyer smile.

“Talk to you later?” Lucas asked, returning the smile.

Will nodded and when Lucas thought he was going to leave, he instead stepped forward and hugged him. He felt impossibly smaller when his arms were around the taller boy, and Lucas’s heart leapt as he hugged back. Then Will was disappearing into the Wheeler’s house, and Lucas was standing alone on his lawn.

It was another week before Lucas saw Will again, never able to catch him before he went into the Wheeler house with Mike. The night he saw him again it happened because he sat outside on his lawn until it was time for Will to leave the Wheeler house.

Will didn't notice him, too focused on getting down the dark driveway without tripping to get to his mom’s car. Lucas jumped up at the sight of him and quickly ran over before he could get in the car. He simply hugged and very shocked Will tightly before running back to his own house. He did this every night from then on until late November when a topic he had all but forgotten came up at the dinner table.

“Baby, what would you think about us moving back to Indianapolis?” Lucas dropped his fork in shock, his head snapping up to face his mother and father.

“Don't look so surprised,” his father laughed.

“We can't leave,” Lucas blurted, eyes wide.

“Why not? Baby, we know how much you don't like it here. You don't have any friends like you did back in the city, wouldn't you like to go back to them?” his mother asked.

“I have a friend,” Lucas protested. His parents exchanged skeptical glances.

“Why don't you invite your friend over this weekend then?” his father suggested.

So that was how Lucas ended up running around town asking every adult who would humor him about the Byers family. He learned they were fifth generation Hawkins residents on both sides and had lived on the same property on the edge of town for two generations on Will’s mom’s side. People’s opinions varied on the family, many negative and saying they were a disgrace to the town, others singing Lonnie Byers’s praises. He got their address from a store clerk who used to work with this Lonnie guy that Lucas assumed was Will’s dad and biked down the tree enclosed road until he got to the gravel driveway. There were no cars in the driveway, but the lights of the house were on.The house itself looked about exactly how he imagined. Small, old and unkempt on the outside. When he knocked on the door it was answered by a boy who must have been the same age as Mike’s sister who he quickly registered as Jonathan. Unlike Will, his older brother’s clothes were dark and lacking in color, but still too big for him and worn in.

“Hello,” Joanthan asked more than greated. He spoke quiet like Will, but Lucas could tell he wasn't really meant to be a quiet person. He reminded him more of his cousin, the son of his quiet auntie, who was hesitant and nervous but carried a much louder voice than his mother.

“I’m Lucas Sinclair,” he shook the older boy’s hand. A bit of recognition flashed across Jonathan’s face and he looked over his shoulder and a thud sound that came from inside. Lucas tired too look around him to see what had fallen, but couldn't see anything in the living room. “Is Will home?”

“Yeah, give me a second,” the older boy mumbled, still looking over his shoulder. He ducked into the house and shouted Will’s name a few times before the pitter patter of small feet came running to the door.

“I fell,” Lucas heard Will admit to his older brother as a fond smile creeped over Jonathan’s face. Will’s brother left the doorway and Will’s tiny frame replaced him, his hair being ruffled by Jonathan as he walked away. Lucas could definitely see the family resemblance. They were both smaller than most kids their age with similar faces and home done hair cuts. The only differences Lucas could see at the moment were their different hair and eye colors.

Without a word, Lucas leaned forward and placed a kiss on Will’s forehead, like he saw his father do in the mornings to his mother when she was still barely awake. Will turned pink again, but this time it fully reached his ears.

“Since you don't understand, I’m going to tell you now,” Lucas started. “You are officially my best friend. I don't care what Mike Wheeler says, you’re mine.”

Will rapidly blinked at him, his mind visibly working a mile a second to compute what had just happened.

“My parents want you to have a sleepover at my house this weekend. This is our number,” Lucas handed Will the note card his mother had given him before he left the house. “Have your mom call my mom to work out the details.”

After that weekend their families fell into tradition. On Saturdays, when Will’s dad wasn't home, the Byers and Sinclair families would eat dinner together, switching houses every other week. Whichever house they were at for dinner, the son of the opposite family would stay the night and be dropped off or picked up before the Sinclairs went to church on Sunday.

They became so accustomed to the rhythm of things that Lucas felt like something had hit him with the speed of a bus when it was interrupted. Mrs. Byers had called and tried to cancel dinner that weekend, telling his mother that their house wasn't fit to have people over and the boys weren't feeling so good. His mother insisted though and talked to Mrs. Byers until she cracked and agreed to come to their house insead for that weekend.

When they Byers got to the house, something different and odd hung in the air. Mrs. Byers’s voice was slightly hoarse, like she had been yelling or crying a lot, and all of them looked very very tired. Will and Jonathan were usually quiet, but that night they didn't speak at all during dinner, and refused to look up from their plates. Mrs. Byers and Jonathan left to head back home, but before she walked out Mrs. Byers hugged Will tighter than Lucas had ever seen a mom hug their child, her nose scrunching up like Will’s did when he was thinking as she told him to have fun.

Will still didn't speak when they went up to Lucas’s room and flinched away anytime Lucas tried to touch him or even moved close to him. The next morning Mrs. Byers picked Will up early, and Will didn't even hug him goodbye.

Lucas spent the whole week thinking he had done something wrong, but was proved to just be paranoid the next weekend when the Byers were suddenly back to normal and Will was being a bit more affectionate than usual. Weekends like these started to happen about once a month, but it wasn't until February that Lucas learned how to navigate them. All he had to do was pretend it wasn't happening and treat Will like normal. Will would warm up little by little through the night until Lucas was able to get a few words out of him and a hug goodbye in the morning.

On March 22nd, Lucas was invited to Will’s birthday party where he first met Will’s dad. Up front, his dad seemed like a nice man. He smiled a lot and talked to the Sinclairs and like they were old friends- it turned out the Wheelers were actually old friends of his and Mrs. Byers, so his warmness to them was no surprise. Mrs. Byers seemed more tense around her husband, but at the same time loser around Mrs. Wheeler and his mother.

During present opening time Mike sat on Will’s left with Lucas on his right. Will grinned big as he opened Mike’s present to him of a full box set of the The Lord of the Rings books. He was almost bouncing from his mother’s gift of crayons, his brother’s gift of chalk and Nancy Wheeler’s gift of a sketchbook. Then came the gift from his father, and the moment it was open,all of the Byers besides his dad seemed to catch their breath and hold it as if Will had been given a bomb. It was just a baseball bat though.

“I figured hes old enough to start learning now,” Mr. Byers said from his recliner chair where he was drinking a beer. “I was six when I started.”

Mrs. Byers nodded with a very tightlipped smile that Lucas saw his mother frown at. To relieve the tension, Lucas grabbed the box he had personally wrapped and sat it in front of Will.

“Open mine next,” he said, smiling to try and make Will’s smile come back. It worked, and Will melted back into his happy state, pushing the baseball bat aside.

Lucas had gotten him a rainbow sweater that he had seen in a box of clothes his auntie had sent of her daughter’s old clothes, and decided immediately that it was perfect for Will. Will hugged the sweater close with a big grin and sparkling hazel eyes. Lucas was soon trapped in a hug, and he almost laughed when he felt that Will was trying to hug him with all his nonexistent strength.

“Okay okay,” Lucas laughed, patting his back. “The sweater isn't the only thing I got you!”

Will pulled back to look back in the box, now seeing the brand new pair of yellow sneakers that sat in the bottom with “Lucas Sinclair” written on the white toes. This made Will practically launch back into his arms, almost knocking them both over in the process. He didn't stop hugging him until Mr. Byers cleared his throat, and even then Will held his hand for the rest of the party.

The Sinclairs were the last to leave the party, and when they did Lucas placed a kiss on Will’s cheek and pulled back with a grin.

“See you Saturday,” he said, then ran off down the driveways with his parents to their car.

He was shocked when that Saturday turned out to be one of those weeks. But even though Will was silent like he always was on weeks like this, he was almost doubly as affectionate with Lucas than usual. Almost all through the night he held his hand, and there were plenty of hugs and cuddles sprinkled in when they went up to his room. At first Lucas didn't understand, and even when he saw the reason, he was still confused. When Will must have thought Lucas was looking away so he could change, Lucas saw the bruises on Will’s arms and back, Some of them were fresh, but other looked like they were starting to fade, like they had been inflicted earlier in the week.

Lucas had no clue where the bruises came from, but they caused him to make a promise to Will, even though he didn't make it out loud. When it was time for bed, Lucas had Will sleep in the bed with him instead of on the floor in a sleeping bag. He kissed Will on the head and cheek before they fell asleep, the finle though of the night night being his promise.

As long as I live, no one will ever hurt William Byers again.

Of course, everyone always saw it as Mike and Will against the world. They had the same teachers for the first three years of school, and Lucas was always in a different class. Outside of class and the Wheeler’s house though, it was Lucas and Will. Their parents found Lucas’s blatant affection for the young Byers adorable, encouraging it even as they got older, even when both Boy’s finally understood what their affection really looked like on the outside.

Will stayed just about as quiet and shy as they grew up, and Lucas stayed just about as bold and blunt. They balanced each other out, even as fumbling children who didn't know their place in the world. Will taught Lucas a lot about boundaries, and respectfulness, and how to find joy in the silence. Lucas taught Will a lot about adventure, and joy, and how to live his life outside of his own head every so often.

By third grade, he finally got the same teacher as Will. So did Mike.

Both the boys’ parents discovered that year how hot headed and possessive they could be. A few scuffles here and there, barely hidden glares, name calling and passive aggressive comments grew between them that always took place behind Will’s back. At one point when they were bother waiting with Nancy and Jonathan at a playground for Will to finish in the bathroom, a fight got so bad that the two thirteen year olds had to rip them apart. That day was when their cover was broken, as Will came out of the bathroom to see the tail end of the fight. Long story short, Lucas and Mike had a crying Will on their hands and a very pissed off Jonathan. A new truce was made between them, monitored by Nancy, to play nice and try to be friends, for Will’s sake.

Lucas’s promise evolved into something knew: As long as I live, I will never hurt William Byers again.

The truce actually brought Lucas and MIke to realize just how much they had in common, and soon it wasn't just one of them and Will. It was Will, Mike and Lucas against the world.

Despite their happiness as a trio, it was that same year that Lucas learned just how bad Will and Jonathan had it at home. He learned what the baseball bat from Will’s sixth birthday really meant to them from Jonathan. He learned what the bruises that sometimes peaked out from Will’s collar meant from his parents when they sat him down after one of those weeks, the worst one yet when Will was acting off the entire week. He learned during a late night confession from Will what those weeks actually were.

“My parents have always fought a lot,” the combination of Will’s already soft voice and whispers in the dark made it almost impossible to hear him, but Lucas managed to. “Those Saturday’s we’re acting weird, its because none of us got sleep because Mom and Dad were fighting all night.”

“Why do they fight,” Lucas risked asking.

“Because of me,” Lucas almost cut in to tell Will that couldn't be true, but Will stopped hi,. “It’s true. Jonathan says they must have been in love at some point, but he never says they act like it even before I was born. It was only after I was born that they started fighting. Dad started drinking, Mom picked up more shifts at work to pay my hospital bills, and Jonathan tried not to get in their way.”

“Hospital bills?”

“I had to be in the hospital a long time after I was born. No one says it, but I know that's why we’re in so much debt. Even if we weren't already the poorest family in town, we would have become it after I was born. Jonathan said that when I was born, Dad was working three jobs and gambling a lot to try and make up for the bills, but the gambiling only lost us more money. That's why the fights started. We were in so much debt, and Mom wanted to leave him.”

“Why didn't she?”

“It was 1971,” Will said, like it was obvious. When he saw it wasn't, he explained, “The no-fault divorse laws were passed in 1969, but in Hawkins it was still really looked down upon for a woman to divorce her husband. No lawyer would defend Mom without a lot of money as payment upfront, so she just didn't do it.”

The next night at the dinner table, Lucas asked his parents all about the no-fault laws that Will had mentioned. Then he asked about why Will was in the hospital as a baby.

“Did Will tell you about that?” his father asked.

“He mentioned that they went into debt because of it,” Lucas said. “I don't get it though. Don't babies usually go home with their moms after they’re born.”

“Most of the time, yes,” his mother nodded. “But in Will’s case, he couldn't. He was born too early. Joyce was only five months pregnant when he was born.”

“Do you know what a miscarage is?” his father asked. Lucas said he did. “Will was almost a miscarage. They had to keep him in the hospital for a few months to make sure he could live on his own before they sent him home.”

“That's scary,” Lucas said.

“It is,” his mother agreed. “But Will is healthy now, and that’s all that matters.”

Lucas agreed then went to bed.

For the next few weeks Lucas would notice Will tugging on his sleeves, and with great pain, he realized that just because he hadn't seen the bruises in a while on his best friend’s skin, didn't mean they weren't there. He took it upon himself to always make Will feel better for at least the hours he saw him, but always had to restart the process of making him feel better the next day.

His promise that he had lived by grew into a list of promises that year.

As long as I live, I will never hurt William Byers again.

As long as I live, I will never turn my back on him.

As long as I live, he will always have a friend.

As long as I live, I will always listen to him.

As long as I live, we will always be together.

As long as I live, I will always hug him at least once a day.

That last one was added when they were nine. The rain from the day before had carried into the next morning, but Lucas could care less. They Byers had missed their Saturday dinner, and every time they called Mrs. Byers said she couldn't talk right now and hung up. Lucas refused to sit and wait for Mrs. Byers to tell them what was going on, and his parents didn't stop him when he hoped onto his bike right after dinner. In fact, his mom prepared him with a backpack for the evening if he ended up staying, a letter from her to Mrs. Byers and A pan of cinnamon rolls. She pulled a rain coat onto him and had him put on a pair of rain boots, and he was on his way to the Byers’s house.

When he got there, Mrs. Byers answered the door. She had darker bags than usual under her eyes, her hair an unkept mess in a bun on the top of her head. She tried to tell him now wasn't a good time, but he wouldn't listen. He stubbornly stood there on the doorstep in the rain until she let him inside and accepted the letter and cinnamon rolls.

“He’s sick right now,” she tried to tell him. He ignored her and ran back to Will’s room, only to find she hadn't been lying to him.

Will was tucked tightly into his bed with a wet washcloth other his forehead, his nose bright red from congestion. Lucas threw caution to the wind and kicked off his shoes, laying down on the bed by his friend’s side. The movement woke him, but he made no protest against his presence.

After getting Mrs. Byers’s reluctant permission to spend the night, Lucas curled up underneath the covers with Will, wrapping him in his arms to supply body heat.

Lucas stayed with the Byers for two rainy July weeks to take care of Will so that Mrs. Byers could focus on Jonathan- who was also sick- and her job. His parents came over every few nights with their brief cases, and he started to piece together why Mr. Byers was nowhere to be seen for the full two weeks.

“My dad left,” was the first coherent thing that Will said to Lucas, confirming his suspicions. It was early in the morning, and he had just woken up, but he jumped into comforting mode right away. The day it happened, Jonathan and Will had spent the entire day building a fort in the forest that they called Castle Byers, and the rain made them sick.

That was the day Lucas Sinclair decided to add the last promise on his list, and by far the one that seemed the silliest at first glance but really meant the most. Every day, he decided, he had to give Will at least one hug. He had to give his friend some sort of comfort, some stability, some constant in the hurricane his life had become. Will took notice, and returned the gesture, hugging Lucas even when he had forgotten. It wasn't much different from how they used to be, but the hugs, the small acts of physical affection meant something very different now.

They were promises.

Promises from Lucas to always be there. Promises from Will that he would always want Lucas there, and would be there for him when he needed it.

It was them and Mike against the world. The cruel cruel world that they needed each other to survive in.

In fifth grade the three became four, happily adding the new kid, Dustin Henderson, to their party. They played D&D on weekends in the Wheeler’s basement, and made up their own adventures in the edge of the forest between the end of the school day and dinner. They were all best friends, as improbable as that seemed. They were always together.

They built their rules of the party, Dustin’s addition being the first blood rule when he witnessed one too many fights between Mike and Lucas, the “friends don't lie” rule unsurprisingly made by Will. They lived by their rules, with Lucas living also by his promises to Will. Mike acted as a sort of leader, even though they liked to say they were a democracy.

They all relied on each other, and cared deeply for one another. All of their parents were quickly becoming friends too with how much they had to see each other because of their children. They were inseparable.

Things were still bad at school though. They loved their classes, and most of their teachers, and the AV club was their sanctuary, but their party was frequently bullied. Will was bullied the heaviest, the only one the bullies dared to get physical with. The boy that had brought the group together was a constant target, even on days when the others were left alone. He never told them how bad things got with the bullies, but every time one of them did, Mike and Lucas would both end up in the principal's office.

They were still happy though. They were a team.

And then November 6th, 1983 rolled around. They said goodbye for the evening after a ten hour long campaign. His mom was standing on the porch of their house, impatiently tapping her foot as he talked to his friends outside the Wheeler’s house. He hugged Will tightly for the third time that night, an odd feeling in his gut trying to tell him something bad was coming. When they pulled back, Lucas debated kissing Will’s cheek. He hadn't done it in a few years, now knowing the real implications of a kiss, but with Will’s tired, life filled hazel eyes staring up at him like that, it was hard not to. Especially knowing the real implications of a kiss.

He didn't do it though. He just waved goodbye and watched from his bedroom window as Dustin and Will peddled down the road.

He realized the next day that he should have done it.

The search started to find Will, everyone believing he had just gotten lost, but by the third day a body was fished out of the quarry right before his eyes and all hope was lost.

He didn't let himself react in front of his two remaining friends and the weird girl they had let in, but as soon as he was home, he fell into his mother and father’s arms and cried for an hour. They were crying too, and his mother had full intentions of going to see Ms. Joyce before seeing the wreck her son was over it. He didn't actually stop crying the entire night, but after the first hour, he did manage to stop the sobs and head to his bedroom. Erica was eight at the time, but she was still young enough in her own mind to be showing him how much she cared. She hugged him and fell asleep in the same bed, not minding her hair being wet by his tears as he cried himself to sleep.

Then Will was alive. He heard his voice over the radio in the AV club with the others, and Will was alive.

“Mom, Mom! --- It’s like home but it’s so dark- it’s so dark and empty and it’s cold---”

He had never heard Will so scared before in their lives, he had never heard him screaming and crying like that, even after all the things Lonnie Byers had done to him. Hearing it made something in his chest snap, and right away he got on a mission where nothing could distract him. He had to find Will and bring him home, even if he lost his other friends in the process.

Seeing Chief Hopper and Ms. Joyce walking into the hospital was the only relife he got from the terror of that night’s events. Will was in Hop’s arms, still wet and covered in the slime of the Upside Down, his skin just as pale as that of the body pulled out of the quarry. Despite how awful he looked, the irregular rise and fall of his chest through choking coughs was the most beautiful sight in the world to Lucas, because Will was breathing. Unconscious, and broken, but still breathing.

When Will woke up, Lucas ran into the hospital room with Mike and Dustin. For a moment, he forgot they were in a hospital all together. He threw his arms around his friend’s neck at the same time the Mike latched onto him. The feeling of Will being under his arms again almost sent him back into the same crying fit from a few nights before, but Dustin pushing him away to get his own hug in grounded him.

It was impossible to get a moment alone with Will for a long time after that, even when his mother hesitantly let him go back to school. He was constantly surrounded by people, be it his mom, Jonathan and Hop or the party or other adults. They couldn't have their sleepovers on Saturdays anymore. Lucas didn't care though, in fact it made him feel much more secure to know Will was never out of someone’s sight, even if it meant giving up seeing Will after dark. Whenever possible, Will never left his sight, and that made up for something.

Dr. Owens took over Hawkins Lab, and became Will’s doctor for the next year. Every other week, Will would go quiet for a whole day like he used to after his mom and dad got in a fight, and his mom would pick him up early from school to take him to his appointment. He never told them about the visits to the lab, and he very rarely let that week in November slip into conversation. During the times when people would insist talking about it, Will’s eyes would glaze over and Lucas would feel his heart break a little from the expression.

They thought things were getting better. Will had episodes here and there, and would sometimes have to talk to Lucas over the Super-Coms all night when the nightmares got too bad, but they thought he was starting to get better. He was smiling like his old self again, back to his normal amount of quietness instead of the trauma induced silence. When school started up again in September, they realized the exact opposite was happening. The episodes started to happen more and more often, and Lucas found himself drinking a little too much coffee every week to keep himself awake after those long nights up. But Will wasn't acting different on the surface, he was acting like he was getting better when they could now all see he wasn't. As soon as he realized how tired Lucas was, he stopped calling after nightmares, and he played off episodes as him spacing out.

Then Mad Max showed up, and Lucas finally had something, someone, to get his mind off of the whole situation. He felt guilty, and he knew Dustin did too, but they both desperately needed a break and found it in the interesting new girl from California. But even this new possible friend couldn't distract him completely, Mike made sure of that. Even with Mike’s annoyance though, Will seemed to be amused by Lucas and Dustin’s fascination with the red head and somewhat relieved they weren't fussing over him anymore.

“He’s quiet today,” Mike commented as they peaked around the corner of the school building at Will being lead to his mom’s car.

“He’s always quiet,” Lucas sighed. Whatever was said in response, he tuned it out, because he knew whatever Mike had to say, he had already thought.

Before Will could get in the car, Lucas ran over and pushed through the crowd. He grabbed his wrist to stop him from getting in the car. Will didn't even have to look up to know who it was. Lucas knew Will could recognize his touch quicker than he could recognize his own name. Just like Luas could recognize his touch quicker than he could recognize his own name.

“You’d tell me if it got worse, right?” Lucas asked in a careful whisper.

Will looked up at him, eyes as gentle and kind as ever. He didn't smile, but that was to be expected on an appointment day. He did, however, pull his arms up a bit so that Lucas was now holding his hand. Will squeezed the tips of his fingers, and in the blink of an eye, pushed himself onto his toes to kiss Lucas’s cheek.

“Go have fun, okay?” Will whispered. Giving his hand one last squeeze before letting go and getting into his mom’s car. Lucas watched them pull out of the parking lot, his heart beating in his ears.

So this was how Will felt when Lucas did that.

If he thought seeing Will’s fake dead body, and his real dying body were scary experiences, then this sight of his best friend was absolutely terrifying.

It had only been two days since he last saw Will in a temporary catatonic state on the field outside their school. Max finally believed him about the events of the years prior, Steve had become their babysitter, and Jonathan and Nancy had reappeared from their missing state. Things should have been easier now, they had help now. But the moment they pulled into the Byers’s driveway, Mike made them all aware of what exactly had transpired since Will’s last episode in the field, and now nothing was easy at all.

At first, Lucas felt just how Max must have when he sat her down in the back room of the arcade. The information made sense, it fit, but he couldn't believe it. Will Byers, his Will Byers, had been burned alive twice, had a seizure, gradually forgot everything he knew and led dozens of men to their deaths. Mike explained how Will’s behavior changed over the two nights, how at first they thought this could be a good thing they could use to their advantage, but they soon realized it had infected and taken over Will completely. The Mind Flayer was what Dustin named it.

Lucas listened in a disbelieving shock as Mike described in detail how they figured out Will was gone. How the Mind Flayer had to guess who Joyce was, proving that Mike was right and Will wasn't there anymore. How Will thrashed against Mike and the hospital bed, screaming over and over again that he was lying while Joyce administered the same tranquilizer they used when Will was burned alive. He tried to push the images out of his mind, but the scene forcibly danced behind his eyelids in something more horrific than any scary movie he had ever seen.

He waited outside the room with everyone else while they woke Will up. His stomach lurched when the screaming and thrashing came through the walls, and his brain refused to register it as Will’s voice. When the screaming went quiet, he peeked through the peephole at the makeshift room.

Will was tied to the chair, slumped forward slightly. The bright lights that shone directly onto his face bleached out his skin. His eyes were wide, and even from the distance, Lucas could see how the irises were a dark reddish brown instead of the hazel he always found so endearing. He could sense it, just as Ms. Joyce, Jonathan, Mike and Hop must, that Will wasn't completely gone. He was still in there, and Lucas had to cover his mouth at the thought that Will was trapped in his own mind, seeing, hearing and feeling everything without being able to do anything about it.

“Let me go,” the Mind Flayer croaked out with Will’s voice after the stories that were trying to jog his memories came to a stop.

Lucas couldn't stand it anymore. He gently knocked on the door to the makeshift room, and Hop carefully let him in. Will didn't look up when he walked close, eyes that weren't his own fixed in the distance on nothing in particular. With a hand on his friend’s shoulder, Lucas took Mike’s place crouched beside Will. He was told by Hopper not to touch him, to keep a distance, but it was so hard when Will was right there. Jonathan gave a small nod, eyes deep in that now signature Byers’s Exhaustion, and Lucas took a deep breath.

“I should have stayed with you and let Max check my wing of the school,” Lucas said in a breath. “Maybe if I did, it wouldn't have gotten you. If I had you spend the night with me last year, maybe the Demogorgon wouldn't have got you. But I’m staying with you now. You’re staying with me, and nothing else is getting you. I don't have a memory to share like everyone else, there are too many to pick from and none of them would be good enough right now. All I have is being here”

Will didn't react in any way, but Ms. Joyce’s pat on his shoulder reassured him to continue.

What Lucas did next almost sent the other in the room into a panic. Hop and Jonathan reached for him. Joyce yelped his name. Mike flinched back. None of their actions stopped him though as he leaned forward and placed his hand on the back of the chair to steady himself.

Hugging had always been Will’s “love language”, as his mother called it. He expressed so many emotions and thoughts through every hug, every pressing of chests together and arms tucked around each other’s backs. While he participated in the love language and made one of his promises based around it, Lucas’s personal love language he had gotten from his parents. Kisses. Kisses to the head, or temple, or cheek, or top of the head. Sometimes kisses were peppered into hugs by being placed on shoulders, ears and the nape of the neck. He had sprinkled in these kisses over the years, and now seemed to be the perfect time for one.

His lips lingered on Will’s cheek longer than they ever had before. The kiss moved to between the smaller boy’s cheek bone and eye, then to his temple, then back to his cheek. He reached up and placed a hand on Will’s other cheek to hold him closer. His skin was so cold under Lucas’s palm and lips, but he took it in stride and continued the kiss. He pushed everything that had been growing in him over the years into the kiss, wishing for a flash of a moment that he could kiss Will on the lips. That would be wrong at the moment, he knew, so the thought left just as fast as it had come. When he went in for that kiss, that special one, he wanted Will to be able to stop him, or return it, or take it at his own pace.

Lucas finally pulled back and he was astonished at his self control when he didn't jump back. Will turned his head and stared Lucas in the eyes like he was truly seeing him, truly knowing him. At some point his other hand had cupped the cheek he had just kissed so that he was holding Will’s face completely in his hands, allowing him to stare right back.

The tapping started, and Lucas couldn't help but smile. He had gotten through. Together, they had all broken down the barriers the Mind Flayer put up and got though, and his kiss had been what sealed the deal.

Before leaving to help with translating the message Will was tapping out to them, Lucas placed another long kiss on Will’s forehead. As he walked out the others continued telling stories to keep Will there as long as they could. In the end, before the phone rang and gave away their location, they got two full words scribbled on the paper.

“Close gate.”

The plan was risky and terrifying, even with El back and Will’s instruction of how to put an end to it all. They all knew that one second of miscalculation and all of Hawkins would be dead, or Will would be dead with the Demodogs.

Lucas refused to think about the pain Will was in at that very moment and focused on the mission in front of him. They were going to win, they had to. And when they did, they would have El back, and Max and Steve as their new, real friends. The best part he kept tucked away in his heart, right under his shirt like a secret of his own. As they burned the heart of the underground system, surely only causing Will more pain, Lucas revised his promises.

As long as we live, no one and nothing will hurt William Byers again without my avenging it. (I'm not a kid anymore, I know I can't stop things from hurting him, but I can make sure they think twice before doing it again).

As long as we live, I will never turn my back on him.

As long as we live, he will always have me. (I think I count as more than a friend now. Plus “a friend” is too vague).

As long as we live, I will always be there for him. (He’s never been good with words, so there might not always be something to listen to, but I will always be there in any way he needs me just like he's always done for me).

As long as we live, we will always be together.

As long as we live, I will always kiss him at least once a day (with his permission of course).

They got back to the Byers’s house after Ms. Joyce but before Hop, so they considered that somewhat of a win. The second they were through the door though, Ms. Joyce, Jonathan and Nancy were bombarding them with questions on Billy’s unconscious body on the floor and the Demodog in the freezer.

Ms. Joyce paused her lecturing of the others to tell Lucas Will was in the bath at the moment and would be sleeping in her room -the only room untouched by the mess. Lucas nodded and paused for a moment to hug her tightly. He waited outside the bathroom, leaning on the wall and listening for any possible sounds of distress from inside. None came, and by the end of the hour he could hear as the bath started to drain. Sounds of Will’s stumbling and grabbing onto different surfaces for support came. The after effects of heat exhaustion, the thrashing and the tranquilizers was sure to be the cause of the stumbing, but Lucas still stayed on guard just in case.

The lock to the bathroom clicked, and the door opened with a creak, queuing Lucas to look up from where he had been picking dirt from under his nails. At first Will didn't look up, not noticing that there was someone else in the hallway with him. He was holding himself up successfully, but it required him pressing his entire body weight on the handle of the bathroom door, and his head was dipped like he was still struggling to find balance. Slowly, Lucas took hold of Will’s shoulder to help him stand fully, and Will looked up.

Lucas’s breath caught in joy when he realized he was looking into hazel eyes and a timid expression. Then his breath caught in fear when Will swayed and fell forward into his arms. Lucas caught him, wrapping his arms tightly around his chest. Jonathan had warned him of the spot where a hot poker was jabbed into Will’s left side, and he was extra careful not to touch it as he lifted him up.

“I can walk,” Will tried to protest, voice scratchy, hoarse and quiet.

“Not without falling over,” Lucas mumbled back. “You’re too skinny, you know that? I shouldn't be able to pick you up so easily.”

“Maybe you’re just strong,” Will shrugged then clenched his teeth. The movement had tugged at the gauze wrapped over his burn, but besides the tightness of his jaw he didn't show any other signs of how the movement had hurt.

Lucas gave him a disbelieving glance and carried him to his mom’s bedroom as if it were routine, which it wasn't. Lucas crawled under the fluffy comforter with Will still in his arms. He didn't let go, not for a second.

“Thank you,” Will whistered against his shoulder after a few minutes of silence. Lucas pulled him impossibly closer as a response, running his fingers through the hair at the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry,” Will’s voice came out a croak that Lucas quickly hushed. He shook his head against Lucas’s shoulder but made no attempts at apologizing again. His hands were gripping the front of Lucas’s shirt so tightly that the fabric pulled slightly at his back, and his forehead was pressed tightly into the crook of his neck. They fit together so easily like this, making Lucas more sure than ever that this was how it was meant to be. It was meant to be them.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Lucas asked. Will nodded. “I need you so much, and it scares me.”

Will tried to look up at him, but Lucas gently kept him in place by curling his fingers in his hair. He took a deep breath, waiting a few heart beats before continuing, “I think I’ve known from the start that I need you, but it only started to scare me last year. When you were there, in that place, I realized how badly I need you and it was terrifying because we thought you were dead, then when we knew you were alive we also knew you could die at any moment. I promised myself a long time ago that I would be with you as long as I lived, because it never occured to me that I could lose you like that. Then today, when I saw you in that chair, I almost lost it. You were right in front of me, and you were right there, but you were gone too.”

“You helped get me back,” Will whispered, pressing his head closer.

“Because I couldn't stand the idea of losing you again,” Lucas almost laughed. “I can't lose you again. I need you here with me.”

“I need you too,” all of Lucas’s tensed muscles relaxed at the affirmation that he wasn't the only one. He kissed the top of Will’s head, and finally let Will look up at him. Hazel filled his vision, and he wanted nothing more than to see only that hazel for the rest of his life.

Lucas leaned forward, stopping just a centimeter from Will’s lips to allow Will to close the gap or pull back. Will closed the gap.

This kiss was short and chaste, and before he could take in WIll’s reaction his head was back on his shoulder, but a phantom warmth lingered. He hugged Will just a bit tighter and closed his eyes, letting himself drift off the moment Will’s breathing evened into the pattern of sleep.

#byclair #will byers #lucas sinclair #stranger things #stranger things 2

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sweetboybucky · 5 years

Text

Morning Light

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 1500

Warnings: Surprise surprise - it’s sappy.

Summary: Bucky learns something new.

A/N: Wow, it’s been a while. I’m so sorry for being gone so long. I’ve missed you all, but I want to thank everyone for being so patient, supportive and kind these past few months. Life has been kicking me in the guts for a while, but things are starting to look up again. I’m happy to be back.

This is my piece for the beautiful @barnesrogersvstheworld ‘s 4k challenge, and my prompt was, “For me, there is only you.” This one was heavily inspired by the gorgeous song, “Follow the Sun” by Caroline Pennell. Attie - you asked for soft, sweet Bucky. I hope I delivered. This one is for you, my love.

*** Familiar notes slip through warm air.

The song is filtered through a golden sunrise. Coaxed from worn, vinyl strings. Drawn through a little ukulele resting in your lap, all light wood and pretty grain and sun yellow accents.

Chords meet ears with measured precision. A practiced elegance you still manage to find in the threadbare sweater you stole from him and the fuzzy socks on your feet, a peaceful kind of grace he’s grown so fond of. Sprawled across the armchair, bathed in early morning light.

Bucky finds himself smiling at the sound.

It catches him every time, the melody he’s heard more times than he can count since first finding you playing in the gray of the compound, the song that drew him to you. Every moment it rings through the apartment brings warmth with it. Chases the cold from the world, from his fevered mind. Paints his world with sunlight.

His heart feels softer as he looks at you, abandoning his book to study the careful way your fingers move against the slim neck. Listen to gentle hum of lyrics he’s long since memorized that you sing under your breath. Trace his gaze over your sweet face.

Steely eyes watch you play for a few more moments. Tongue dragging over full lips, flesh fingers picking at a loose thread in the silky material of the blanket draped over his legs.

And his next words are a surprise even to him, even as his mind works up the courage to say them. The quiet, “Will you teach me?” that falls from his lips making your hands still.

You tilt your head just a little. Smile at him, surprise coloring your voice as you ask, “What?”

He clears his throat, a flicker of anxiety resting in his chest. “Will you teach me to play?”

“Didn’t know you had any interest in music,” you say, more affection than teasing in your tone. It only takes a moment for you to stand. Step over to him, settle next to him on the couch. Curl into his side, ukulele still held tightly in your hands. He tucks you under his arm, brushing his fingers against smooth wood, thin strings.

“Ma always liked it,” he tells you, thankful that the words find a way around the lump forming in his throat. “Becca did, too.” A cool, metal palm settles on the side of your face. Fingertips ghost over your cheekbone, thumb brushing along your lashes as your eyes flutter shut, a content noise pushing past your lips. “And I like that song, love when you play it.”

Something impossibly fond, almost indulgent, settles over your features. Lingers in your eyes as they open to look up at him, in that soft smile stretching across your face.

“Okay, Buck. I’ll teach you.”

Warm lips press to his shoulder. His neck and his jaw. And then you’re nudging him, making him sit up and turn. Moulding your chest to his back, moving the ukulele to his lap and adjusting his grip on it, hands gentle against his own.

Laughter falls from his mouth as you hook your chin over his shoulder, give his neck another kiss. His tone is teasing, fond as he asks, “You give everyone you teach this special treatment?”

Arms squeeze tight around him, your hair tickling the side of his face as you rest your cheek against his.

“Never, Buck. Only you.” He tips his face toward you. Lets his nose run along your hairline, soft and sweet. Chuckles a little when you squeeze him once more, chide with a quick, “Now, quit distracting me.”

The contrast of the instrument and striking metal makes Bucky’s breath catch as he looks back down at the ukulele. But your hands are covering his silver fist soon enough, thumb stroking over the plates in a placating gesture, lips brushing across his jaw as you move his fingers the way you want them. Settle his first and second finger one fret down on the second and third strings, his ring finger finding its place on the third fret of the string between his first two.

It’s a clumsy movement. Awkward positioning with the unforgiving material. And it feels strange. Wrong. Almost like he should stop, until your other hands guides his right to fall down the strings, breathe life into the chord.

Warmth blooms within him at the sound, familiar and comforting and created by his hand. Like a beautiful, live thing.

“There,” you whisper, and Bucky swears he can hear something like pride lacing your tone. “That’s the first chord, you got it.”

“You make it look so easy,” he tells you, but there’s a smile on his face anyway. One that grows as he turns his head to glance at you, rest his forehead against yours and lean into you a little further.

“You’ll get the hang of it. Already made one chord sound so pretty.”

“Nothing like when you do it,” he murmurs. “Prettiest thing in the world when you play.” And it’s the truth. It’s more real than anything he’s ever felt, the adoration as he listens to your soft voice singing the lyrics, hands drawing music from thin strings.

The answering laugh he gets from you is quiet. Charming in that easy way you always seem to be. “Softie.” Your fingers tuck a stray lock of hair behind his ear. “You wanna learn the other two in the song now?”

It gets easier as he learns the few other chords, settles into the feeling of playing. Feels sweeter when he can string them together, match up the pieces of the melody that led him to you, the notes he’s ingrained in his heart. Even sweeter still when he feels your warm breath on his cheek as you say, “See? Already a pro.”

He huffs a short laugh. Turns until he’s by your side again. Tucks you against his body, beneath the curl of his arm. The ukulele lies still in his lap, fingers following the grain of the light wood.

It’s such a small thing, the weight of the little thing against him. The memory of the notes filling the air fresh in his mind, something he brought to life. Something he could share with you.

“Thank you,” he whispers, voice more tender than he means it to be, settling his nose in your hair and breathing you in.

“Always,” you answer, pushing further into his side. Pressing up to kiss his lips, lingering and gentle, before resting in the crook of his arm again and looking up at him, saying, “But you better not use your master ukulele skills to impress someone else.”

“Never, darlin’,” he murmurs, the full extent of his conviction carefully hidden. “Never anyone else.” You tip your head into his hand when he rests it in your hair, start to grow heavy and loose against him. “For me,” he whispers, unable to hold the words back, “there is only you.”

He sees the answering flicker of light in your eyes. Affection bubbles through his veins, strong and dizzying. It strikes him in the deepest part of his heart, love smoothing over everything else in his mind.

And with it comes those memories he’s stopped trying to tamp down, bubbling to the surface. The sound of quiet music echoing against pale walls. Flashes of a record player crooning in the living room. A warm embrace, a soft voice in his ear. And then later, much later, small feet standing over his own, laughter and bright eyes staring up at him, adoration flickering through the little face he still remembers more clearly than nearly anything else.

A flare of grief crawls under his skin. Makes him ache for the things he’s lost -

He lets his eyes fall to you again. Catch your gaze, the tender, almost protective expression on your face. Thinks of you all those mornings he needed you most, when the ice crept back under his skin and the dark folded into his mind, as you held him in your arms. Kissed his skin and whispered the lyrics he’s grown so fond of, the song that always brings him back to you -

But adore the things he’s gained.

“Me too, Buck,” you tell him, gentle but fierce and sure in that way you always are with him. “Never anyone but you.”

He smiles sweet through his soul. “Play it for me again?”

Your laughter is warm and light against his shoulder, expression bright and fond. “Always, you big sap.”

The weight of the ukulele lifts from his lap as you hold it in your arms again. The pads of your fingers are quick to cover the frets, hands pulling an easy timbre into the air. Bucky tucks his arm further around your shoulders. Presses a quick kiss to your hair.

His eyes trace over the shape of you, a blissful smile curling over his lips as morning light dusts across your face, painting your movements in the softest gold.

MAIN TAG LIST:

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#attie's challenge challenge #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #reader insert #reader #fluff #oneshot #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #My writing

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prism-sakura-s · 5 years

Text

Gingerbread Houses

Chapter 3: The Bedroom

Prompt: Fake Relationship for the Holidays

Warnings: sympathetic remus, mentions of pests, nsfw mention, cursing

Pairings: Eventual romantic Intrulogical

< First >

AO3

@sanderssidescelebrations

“I figured that seein’ as the two of ya are a couple, I hope y’all don’t mind if y’all share a room, don’t ya?”

Logan and Remus stared into the former’s bedroom as Maya Anderson switched on the lights. It was not how Logan had left it—although, considering it was no longer the disgusting mess it was previously, Logan didn’t mind it at all. He was more grateful, as having a clutter in his room would have surely attracted rats or cockroaches, which would have made it rather hard to sleep here for several days. The books were on the shelves, and the ones who couldn’t fit were tucked away in the compartments underneath the desk, along with some binders and notebooks. Writing and art materials were stored in different containers located on the outskirts of the desk, a lamp accompanying them.

“I cleaned up your room a lil, Logan,” Mrs. Anderson said. “I hope ya aren’t upset, but this place was… honestly, a pigsty when ya left.”

“It’s okay, Ma,” Logan reassured, a small smile on his face as he turned to look at her. “I think we’ll be fine here.”

“Okie dokie!” Mrs. Anderson said. “Ya two boys get comfy, dinner will be ready in a few hours! In the meantime, do whatever ya want!”

“Thanks Ma,” Logan said.

“We’ll keep it down, don’t worry,” Remus added.

Logan noticed his mother’s smile as she left seemed a bit more forced than usual, and a small, yet noticeable, weight settled on his chest.

The pretend-couple walked into the room. Remus immediately began exploring while Logan started unpacking the bags.

“I didn’t know you were such an artist, Long-Man!” Remus said, picking up a sketchbook and flipping it open. “Woah, these are pretty good sketches of naked men!”

“Those were anatomy studies,” Logan said calmly, though he flushed a little. “I did have some interest in art even as a child, but after I moved away and entered college, I had less time to indulge in it, unfortunately. I am trying to practice more, though.”

“Why didn’t you take any art classes?” Remus asked, cocking his head sideways, reminding Logan of those puppies in a video Patton had once shown him.

“The college I went to offered some, but you had to pay for it. It was out of my budget,” Logan replied, shrugging.

“Too bad.” Remus pouted, flipping through more pages. “You really seemed to like drawing naked men.”

“I drew other things,” Logan protested, face still flushed.

“Aside from the occasional landscape sketches, your sketchbook suggests otherwise.”

“Why don’t you help me with this?”

Remus shrugged, nonchalantly flicking the sketchbook close. “Okay, you’re the dom in this relationship anyway.”

“I–nevermind.”

Remus walked towards the closet and opened it, squealing upon seeing what was in it.

“Dork! I didn’t know you had so many onesies!” Remus exclaimed, holding up one of a flying squirrel.

If Logan’s face was red before, now it was as if all the trillions of blood cells in his body had collected into his face. “I asked you to assist me with putting away our essentials, not to indulge yourself in my past interests,” he hissed.

“Aww, there’s no need to be all embarassed, Logie-poo,” Remus teased, “everyone’s had a onesie phase at some point of their lives. You’re not special!”

“Is that supposed to comfort me?” Logan asked dryly.

“I mean… yeah!” Remus replied.

Logan sighed, trying to calm himself down. “Put away the squirrel onesie, please, and help me with the toiletries.”

Remus, thank god for the sliver of mercy in him, did as he was told and hung up the onesie. He closed the door, whispering, “I’ll come back for you soon,” and skipped over to the bed, where several articles of clothing were already laid out in neat piles. Remus blew a raspberry.

“Please don’t get spit all over our clothes,” Logan begged.

“Do we have to fold them?” Remus whined, picking up a plain black polo shirt that undoubtedly belonged to Logan.

“If you don’t want them to be crumpled, then yes,” Logan said.

“Why can’t they be crumpled? It’s not like I’m commiting one of the seven deadly sins,” Remus asked, shaking the polo shirt.

Logan stared at Remus. “You’re not, but it makes you look less neat, I believe.”

“Ehhh, total horse shit.” Remus continued shaking the shirt. “Just because something is smooth and clean doesn’t mean it looks pretty.”

“Maybe so,” Logan began, “but perhaps people tend to focus more on the implications that, for example, the person wearing the shirt actually puts in effort to keep their things and even themselves tidy and presentable, instead of lazy.”

“Tidy and presentable,” Remus repeated mockingly. “What’s wrong with a lil chaos, huh? All these expectations take too much work to reach. Why can’t we all be wild magic gremlins?”

“Hm, good point.” A small chuckle escaped Logan. “You are quite fun to debate with, Remus.”

It was a bit of a surprise to Logan, if he were to be honest. He didn’t expect Remus to have quite astute observations and opinions with quite good points (maybe ignoring the suggestion of magic gremlins).

“Of course I’m fun to debate with!” Remus said after, Logan just realized, an uncharacteristic while. “I’m fun to do anything with! Anything you do with or to me will be enjoyable~”

“Please stop shaking my polo shirt,” Logan said. “Even if you have a good point about how having smooth clothes are a rather absurd way to judge one’s character, my mother will still fret over it if she sees me wear crumpled attire, and I would prefer to avoid that.”

“Oh, alright Lo-gie,” Remus conceded, easily folding up the shirt in two moves. He saw Logan staring at him in mild shock and grinned widely. “Oh, you like my trick? My mom taught it to me. I have very nimble and delicate fingers.”

Remus wiggled his fingers and eyebrows at Logan with a smirk, as if to prove his point.

“Yes, I get your point Remus,” Logan said, turning back to the clothes.

“Okie-dokie-lokie!” Remus scooped up the bag of toiletries and ran towards the bathroom.

“Don’t move so fast, you look like a cartoon character,” Logan said.

“I’m a horny Roadrunner!” Remus’ muffled, strange and cheerful voice exclaimed from the restroom.

Taglist: @omgsomeonesomewhereonearth

#sanders sides #sanders sides holiday celebration #sanders sides holiday celebration 2019 #intrulogical #logan sanders #remus sanders #ts logan #ts remus #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfiction #ts intrulogical #thomas sanders #lilyywrites

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quarthly · 5 years

Text

The Fallen Ones: Chapter One

This is my first serious story that I've posted in a while so some constructive criticism would be appreciated :)

This story involves my oc Max and kinda acts as a backstory in a way.

Also this is an mlm story and it involves my oc and Ticci Toby. I do not own the character Toby, nor Masky and Hoodie. Along with any other character that is mentioned in this story, they all belong to their respectful owners. The only thing I own is my oc and this story.

Aside from that information, enjoy my story :)

The night sky was dark and stormy; lightning streaked across the curtain-less window, filling the dark bedroom with bright light. The rain beat against the window glass harshly, begging to be let inside. The wind howled angrily and pounded against the side of the two-story house. Thunder boomed in the sky, making its anger known. The weather seemed to get progressively worse as the night slowly progressed into the day.

Max did not seem to notice the chaotic sounds outside his window, too focused on the book he was reading. He was so focused on his book that he did not notice the tree branch making its way towards his window until it was too late. The sound of the thin wood scratching against the window spooked Max out of his focus. With a jump, Max accidentally dropped this book and flashlight on the bed. The metal flashlight dropped onto his big toe. Max sucked in a breath and silently cursed out the flashlight.

Sighing, Max pulled the covers off of his head and looked out the window into the still-dark sky. A huge flash of lightning illuminated the tree branch. Its shadow moved across the room, looking as if it were a hand about to snatch Max up out of bed. Glaring at the tree branch, Max turned back to his book and glowered when he noticed it had fallen shut. Max lifted his hand to his face and rubbed his tired eyes. He was getting a headache.

Grabbing the book, Max put it on the nightstand along with the now off flashlight. He glanced around his room once again. Taking note that he would have to clean up at some point. Deciding to put that task away till it was actually morning, Max picked up his charging phone to check the time.

“3: 42 huh? I should really try and get some sleep. Maybe I’ll chug some NyQuil...”

Max’s voice poured across the room; sounding loud in the suddenly quiet room. Max furrowed his eyebrows and slowly turned his head towards the window. Max let out a loud gasp and quickly shuffled out of bed. He moved quickly towards the window, putting his hands of the glass and staring in disbelief. The Raindrops were floating in mid-air, lightning stuck in place mid-strike. It was...odd. It was so confusing and Max could not understand what was happening. The silence was deafening.

Max heard his closet door slowly opening, squeaking on its hinges. Max Swiftly turned towards the noise. His heart felt as if it was in his throat. Max felt like hyperventilating he was so freaked out. He wiped his suddenly sweaty hands on his nightshirt, steeling his erratic nerves.

He picked up his flashlight from the nightstand, cautiously making his way towards the closet. He froze and stared in bewilderment as a golden thread slithered through the small crack between the door frame and the door. He watched as it slowly made its way towards the doorknob. It quickly wrapped around the doorknob and started jiggling it. Max stared horrified as this continued for what felt like hours.

Max heard a mocking chuckle as the door was flung open. Max did a sharp inhale as he saw the amount of sentient golden thread. They wiggled around the entirety of the closet, some slowly making their way into the bedroom. Max looked away from the thread slowly making its way towards him; instead of focusing his attention on the big mass in the middle of the closet. He heard another chuckle come from the golden mass.

Quickly a thread jumped out at him. This broke Max out of his stupor and he dodged out of the way. He heard the thread strike the glass behind him. There was a loud crash and Max felt the glass fall on and around him as he knelt down. He lifted his head and made eye contact with a shadowy face in golden mass. The face smirked and another thread was thrown his way. He rolled out of the way and stood quickly. He dove over his bed and rolled into a crouch before his door. He quickly stood up and opened his door.

Max flew down the stairs towards the kitchen. All of this felt like Deja Vu and he did not like it one bit. He frantically threw open draws until he found the one he was looking for. Picking up a kitchen knife, he turned towards the entrance of the kitchen. He saw golden glowing eyes glaring at him. The eyes had an evil glint in them and he watched horrified as a smile slowly grew on the creature's face. He did not notice that the creature had backed him into the counter until he heard a crash from beside him.

A spray of glass hit him for the second time that night. Max ducked down and away from the spray. He frantically glanced up towards the broken kitchen window and saw a man in a tan jacket drop into his kitchen from the window. He didn’t get a good look at the man's face because as soon as Max registered that there was another person in the room, the man snatched him up by his arm and threw him behind him. Max stumbled towards the kitchen sink, gripping the knife harshly.

Max saw the tan masked man get into a defensive stance and the golden-eyed creature growled. Max could only register the sound of the tan dressed man yelling “Get out of here boy!” before the creature lunged at the man. Max scrambled onto the counter and climbed out the window. He jumped onto the ground in his backyard and heard footsteps running towards him. He barely had time to look up before he was yanked up by his arm and made to run away from his house.

Max ran along with the man dressed in a yellow hoodie for what felt like forever before he got his wits about him and stopped running altogether. Max stumbled as the man tried to continue running. The man turned sharply when he noticed that Max was not budging.

“Come on kid, we have to get out of here!” the man whisper-yelled.

Max yanked his arm out of the man's grip and took a defensive step back. He held his knife out in front of him, hoping that would deter the man-it did not.

“Just hold on a second! Do you mind telling me what the hell is going on here?”

“Listen, kid, if you haven’t noticed yet, we don’t exactly have the luxury of time. Now get a move on and I’ll explain later.”

The masked man gripped Max’s arm tighter than before and yanked the knife out of his hand. With a yank of his arm, they ran for what felt like hours. Max was too delirious to take note of the direction they were going. Finally, they stopped at what looked like a junkie's house. The entire building was completely run down and badly gratified. The man finally let go of his arm and confidently stepped into the house- if it could even be called that.

Max cautiously followed the man, watching as the man navigated the halls confidently. ‘He must live here…’ thought Max. Max continued to follow him until they stopped in a room with a moldy bed and a broken window with shredded curtains blowing in the breeze. Max took note that the raindrops were no longer frozen in place and were being blown in through the broken window. Max shuddered as the breeze blew his way. He slowly turned towards the yellow-clad man and watched as he set down Max’s knife on a table in the corner of the room. The man continued to ignore Max and instead focused his attention on what lay in wait outside the window.

Max heaved a heavy sigh and begrudgingly sat on the dirty bed. He was exhausted. He felt like he could finally sleep. Of course, he would have to have something like this happen for him to finally be able to fall asleep. Max pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his arms across them. He rested his chin on top of his crossed arms and stared at the man as he started to pace around the room. Max was almost lulled to sleep until he heard the front door to the house bang open.

Both Max and the masked man startled at the sudden loud noise. Max unfolded himself and was about to get up when the man held up a hand and took a cautious step towards the door in the bedroom. Max watched anxiously as the man continued to take quiet steps towards the closed door. Max quietly yelped as he heard loud footsteps coming up the stairs. Max saw the masked man pulled a revolver out of his hoodie pocket and steadily pointed it at the door.

The doorknob jiggled a bit before the door was thrown open. Max gave a startled yelp and the man shot at the intruder. They heard a high pitched yelp and a loud “Fuck!” from the other side of the door. The yellow-clad man let out a quiet “Shit!” before he ran towards the open door.

“What the hell Brian? You could’ve shot me!”

“I’m sorry okay Tim. Don’t get mad at me for trying to protect the fucking kid.”

Max made a confused noise which drew the attention of the two men. The one clad in the yellow hoodie sighed and walked back into the room. The other man- who Max now noticed was wearing a white mask with minimal facial details- made a beeline towards Max and sat beside him. Max turned to him and watched as the man took off his mask. He heard the other man scoffed but ignored him.

After the man took off his mask, he turned to Max and smiled. Max smiled back at the man nervously and, out of habit, started to scratch his arm. The smiling man frowned as he noticed the scratching and grabbed Max’s hand gently. Max glanced at him nervously but saw the man was staring at his arm still. Max glance back down and took notice of all the scars on his arm that he obtained from scratching too hard too frequently.

“It’s nothing really. Just a bad habit.”

Max speaking brought the man out of his thoughts. The man sighed and let go of his arm. He nodded his head in understanding and reassuringly rubbed Max’s shoulder. Max smiled at the man, revealed that the man who saved him was not going to try and hurt him also.

“What’s going on?”

“You don’t need to worry about that just yet. You should try and get some sleep for now.”

Max sighed and nodded his head. He was surprised to find out just how exhausted he was. He saw the man take off his tan jacket and wrap it around Max as he continued to shiver. Max sighed contently and felt the man lower his head into his lap. Max finally fell asleep to the sound of the two men quietly talking and the feel of the man's fingers running through his hair.

#ticci toby #Max hughes #ticci toby x max hughes #Tim Wright #creepypasta #marble hornets #brian thomas #jeff the killer #mlm #gay #fanfiction #jane the killer #the puppeteer #ben drowned #OC #kate the chaser #skully #jay merrick

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rosesisupposes · 5 years

Note

Hey I saw you were offering fluff and I'm a hoe for Prinxiety, only if you feel motivated too though! Love your writing xxx

So, this may not be what you meant, but… I watched The Unicorn Store the other day and I loved it, and one of the characters’ names was literally Virgil. So in a slight mix-and-matched fashion, here’s that :D

The Store

Pairings: Prinxiety, Moceit (Paternal Royality, Paternal Roceit); brief moment of analogical if you squint.

Warnings: Self-doubt, reference to possible hallucinations; reference to abuse and miscarriage; also, minimal editing

Word Count: much longer than intended 4,434 words

Read on ao3

Roman, dearest Roman, grew up with a deep love for unicorns, and rainbows, and all things glitter. His imagination let him have wild and beautiful adventures with his pet unicorn. His name was Steve.

He drew him, over and over, hoping that if he just nailed it perfectly, his parents would understand, and finally see himBut while Pat and Dee indulged his stories and encouraged his art, it was clear they’d never really understand.

They did send him to art school though

He wanted to love it, wanted to meet all those people who thought like him, who saw the world like him

Unfortunately what he found was a mentor who’s best-known work was a photography series called Stick in a Box

In the final evaluation, they were asked to make a self-portrait

Roman’s classmates had beautifully composed but tiny charcoal drawings of themselves, lined up in neat 8.5x11 boxes

Roman’s drawing was technically perfect, too. But it was a charcoal of a unicorn on a hill, surrounded with stripes of purple, yellow, pink, green, red that stretched off the box, off the canvas, and onto the wall itself. As a final touch, he said a wish to himself and blew on glitter

Unfortunately, his mentor was… unimpressed. And Roman became an art school dropout, back in his dads’ house, shifted to the basement because his room had become a home gym

His dads were still supportive, though. They knew he’d bounce back. But it didn’t always help when they’d talk about “now that you’ve tried that” and “finding a new path”

Also, they kept bringing over their neighbor, Emile, who was Roman’s age. Emile has just started working with them at their retreat service for troubled and at-risk teens. And it’s not that Roman didn’t like Emile, it just felt like… they were prouder of him than their son the failure.

Okay, maybe Roman did dislike Emile.

So in a fit of… jealousy? Desperation? Roman announces he’s joining a temp agency. He’s going to have an office job. So, Dad, Papa, please make sure to purchase plenty of pens and graph paper as he will need them now. He even borrows Pat’s old office clothes. A bit outdated perhaps, but he’s professional now.

He starts at the ad agency/communications firm and damn does he look the part, he’s sure. Even if his work is boring. Even if the people are very caught up in very small concerns.

In the middle of the very, very beige cubicles, and the very, very dull conversations, Roman finds a letter. It has his name on it, spelled in glitter and rhinestones. And it invites him to The Store.

But he’s… he’s being professional now. He’s a businessman. He doesn’t care about frivolity like glitter. Right?

When the second letter arrives, still with his name, still with the same address, still with no signature… well, it might not be smart but he can’t help it

He goes to the address to find a lone, flickering neon sign that says The Store. He walks in to an elevator that has no buttons, but descends on its own. He walks through a pink-lit hallway to a curtain of rainbows, and finally emerges into a grand old room that’s been…. transformed.

On one side: a gate closes off a clear space. On the other: several grand tables are arranged with fruit and hay bales. The back wall has a long bar and freezers of ice cream. And in the middle, a man stands with a slight smile and adjusts his bright purple tie and the shiny satin matching suit jacket.

“Welcome, Roman!”

“How do you know my name?”

“I’ve been expecting you, of course. Though you are late, by several days. It’s rather impolite not to respond to an invitation immediately, you know.”

“What is this place?”

“It’s the Store. And I am the Salesman.” Roman notices what definitely looks like long strings of tinsel in the man’s dark hair.

“What kind of store?”

“The kind that sells that and only that which you need”

“Which is?”

“Roman, don’t be ridiculous. You know what it is. You’ve known your whole life.”

The Salesman flicks on the huge screen above the door. Footage of graceful horses under rainbows, horses in meadows, horses sleeping… except they all have a beautiful, spiral horn in their foreheads.

“Unicorns?! You have real, actual unicorns?”

“Yes we do. And I contacted you specifically to make you this offer: we have a unicorn, just for you.”

Roman starts to tear up. "Really? You do? For me? I was right, all this time? Oh my goodness, can i see her? Him? Them? Do unicorns have genders?“

“They do, if they want them. Yours isn’t here yet: you need to prove you’ll take good care of them first. A unicorn isn’t just a pet, you know. They’re a commitment. They will love you forever. Can you keep one safe forever?”

“I think I can,” Roman responds, though he’s still jittery and very glittery.

“Excellent! Here’s the first requirement, then,” the Salesman responds. He pulls out a shiny folder. In it is a description of “Sheltering and Feeding Your Unicorn”

“Do you have space to accommodate a unicorn? Can you feed one? To qualify for unicorn ownership, you must first demonstrate that you’re able to provide for them.”

Roman thinks of his basement room with a wince. “Uh, not yet. But I will!”

“And can you demonstrate that you’re stably employed, able to continue providing?”

“I will do that too.”

He heads off in a whirlwind of giddy and righteous energy. He’s getting a unicorn. He’ll do whatever it takes!

First stop is the hardware store. He finds a man in the lumber section.

“Hello good sir! I am in the market for lumber.”

“Whatcha building.”

“A stable.”

“How big’s the horse?”

“Uh, not quite a horse, but um. Bigger than a pony, but you know, they can probably become whatever size I need them to be. Um, just your average small horse, I suppose?”

“Where you buildin’ it?”

“My bedroom”

The man stares, then picks up his radio. “Virgil, please report to the lumber department.”

“Will he be able to help me?”

The man doesn’t answer, just rolls his eyes and walks off

Roman wanders until he finds the worker with the nametag “Virgil”

“So, are you the builder?”

“Uh, what?”

“The man said you could help me.”

“Yeahhh, he definitely just said that to fuck with me. I’m not really a carpenter, I just do stock.”

“Well, you know more about it than me! Maybe you could try?”

Virgil stares down at Roman earnest smile, then finally sighs. “I mean, I’m gonna get paid, right? Might as well.”

He’s then the first to point out that Roman’s… ‘pony’ won’t want to live in his basement.

But in the backyard, there’s the slightly-rotted ruins of Roman’s childhood castle. It’s not structurally sound, but the space is good. And maybe some of the wood is salvageable. Roman starts kicking in the walls for good measure, and Virgil, with a strange fascination bordering on entertainment, joins in at his urging.

The hardest part is keeping his parents from asking about Virgil’s visits. Roman is very tired of being reminded that among his many failings, he doesn’t even have a partner. And the eagerness with which Dad and Papa ask about the ‘young man’’ who keeps visiting kinda makes it obvious they hope that’s why. In Pat and Dee’s defense, they’re not trying to be pushy. They just saw the conspiratorial smiles Roman kept flashing Virgil, and the bemused but amused smiles Virgil returned.

But Roman’s getting a unicorn. Who needs a boyfriend when the unicorn will love him more than any human ever could or has.

Roman returns to The Store. “I’m building a stable, and I have an appointment to go buy hay. What’s next?”

“Ah, good. Now that you’re building a home worthy of a unicorn, you need to ensure the full environment is appropriate. Here, hold this.”

The Salesman hands Roman a spiraled cone. It feels like ivory, but is far too heavy.

“Is this…?”

“Yes, a horn. They’re fragile creatures, but the weight of caring from one is all too real. Will your unicorn be surrounded by support and love? Is there a healthy family environment for them to come home to?”

Roman realizes that he’s not been on… particularly good terms with his dads. And it’s probably not all their fault. So he volunteers to join a weekend retreat: rafting and camping with the kids. And Dad, and Papa. And Emile

If there’s one thing Roman can say for Emile, it’s that he’s a really great trier. He’s not particularly good at paddling. He volunteers to pitch a tent on his own and…. Well. It got up eventually.

Roman’s helping two of the teens assemble their own tent when Pat calls out to get ready for Truth Circle. The girls snort under their breath but call back to say they’re coming.

“What’s truth circle?”

“Ugh, it’s so lame. It’s going around and sharing and they want it to be some deep shit. But I make up something every time and they can’t tell.”

True to her word, the young woman, sitting around the campfire, tells a tearful story of how her mom cut up all her tube tops and she just misses them, so much. A young man says he’s "so tired of assumptions just because i like loud music, and like knives, doesn’t mean i’m gonna attack my English teacher! I like my English teacher."

To each pronouncement, Pat and Dee nod seriously, occasionally offering "Thank you” and “Good share”

Roman just feels worse and worse, knowing that all of these kids are probably laughing at his dads on the inside, so when they ask if he’d like to share anything…

“I’ve been working really hard lately, trying to improve my life,” he starts, and Pat and Dee are beaming, holding hands. “I really want to make it all worth it, you know? Because growing up, people kept wanting to not play with me, and every birthday I wished for the same thing: someone to love me, unconditionally. And I know I’ve been flighty, and selfish, but I’m finally at a turning point where all my hard work feels worth it. And It’s because I’m finally about to get the one thing I’ve always wanted: a unicorn.”

His dads’ faces drop. “Uh, kiddos, we’re gonna have a quick lil mini family circle over here, okay? Emile, you want to lead some campfire songs?”

Pat is the first to speak. "Ro, I was so happy when you told us you wanted to come, but this is just rude. This weekend is for the kids, why can’t you pretend to take it seriously?”

Dee puts a calming hand on Pat’s shoulder. “Roro, your dad’s right. If you wanted to make jabs at us for not getting you a puppy, you could have done that at home.”

Roman tries to explain. “No, I mean it, I’m working on getting one. I’m making a good home for it and everything. I wouldn’t lie about this!”

“Oh, and you didn’t lie about 'Steve’ eating all the cotton candy all those years?”

“That doesn’t count, I was a child!”

“And yet you’re still acting like one”

Roman is practically crying with frustration. “You know they’re the ones lying, right?” he whisper-screams. “All those kids. Just making up whatever bullshit they think you’ll accept. And I sit here, actually telling the truth, and you don’t believe me!”

Dee sighs. “We know they lie, Ro. Of course they do. Her mom beats her,” he gestures with his head to a girl. “His father passed away suddenly. Xe had a miscarriage. They just got out of an emotionally abusive relationship. They all lie, outrageously, and then suddenly one day they’re telling the truth because they trust that now no one will believe them when they’re actually vulnerable. But we know, and we’re there when they do.”

“Is that the problem?” Pat asks softly. “Were we just bad enough parents that you’re doing the same thing to us?”

“No, of course not!” Roman insists. He’s properly crying now. “I’m trying to tell you…” He trails off, seeing their disbelief. “Fine. I’ll just… go. You guys can adopt Emile instead.”

In the background, Emile pops his head up. “Did someone call me?”

All three shout back, “NO!”

Roman stares at his dads for another moment, helplessly, then stomps off.

He fucked up. Now there won’t be a loving family environment. Now he’ll never get his unicorn.

He gets home and glares at the rainbows and Care Bears and streamers in his room, then starts bagging them up. All of them. All of the old drawings, and paints, and especially the glitter. Plus the hay he’d lovingly dyed rainbow, and the huge amount of carrots.

He throws them all in bags and goes to toss them in the backyard, when he can no longer hold it back and starts to cry. All these hopes he’d been building. All his childhood dreams coming true. All for nothing.

He hides in the grey basement all weekend, staring at the dumb assignment about a dumb vacuum for his dumb job. He was urged to make a pitch for the ad campaign, unless he wants to stay a temp forever. And even if he can’t get his unicorn, he’d like to create something again. But a vacuum? a “mystic” vacuum? What even is that.

On Sunday afternoon, he hears power tools from the backyard, and drags himself outside to tell Virgil he can stop working on the dumb stable now. But Virgil hasn’t just finished the stable. He’s decorated.

And it is an explosion of color.

“Oh my goodness gracious,” he breathes, looking at all the rainbows painted up and down the walls. Drawings are pasted all around, with strings of tinsel everywhere. “Are these… my drawings?”

“Uh, yeah, you put all the materials out here, isn’t that why?”

“Did I put all these in those bags?”

“Well, no- your dads saw what I was doing and brought out their favorites of your art to add”

“They… like my art? But it’s all the unicorns, I thought…”

He brushes away a tear. His original drawing of Steve is here, a big red heart with a very spiky stick figure. And so is his high school masterpiece, a photorealistic unicorn rearing in the sunset.

Virgil scuffs a sneaker against the ground. Like the stable, he’s a little technicolor, splats of paint on his pants and shoes and face. “Do you like it?”

“Like it?”

“I… you made an art show of me. Of all I’ve done over the years. And you didn’t give up on this ridiculous project. Thank you, Virgil. I love it.” He stares, and suddenly grins. “Hey, any chance there’s some glitter left over? I have an idea.”

He prepares a gorgeous, glitter-filled presentation for the damn vacuum, and even makes it a demonstration of how well it works in one go. It’s the Mystic Vacuum. It’s dreams coming true. It’s an experience.

But the working world does not care if employees are going through a coming-of-age realization. Cubicles are immune to your thinking-outside-the-box thinking. The 'safe’ presentation of terribly restricted gender norms gets the ad.

He comes home, a little crushed, but Pat’s there waiting for him.

“Papa, I fucked up. Again. I just… really suck at being a grown-up”

“Did you go for it, though? Did you try?”

“..yeah”

“Did you care about doing it?”

“…yeah”

“Then you’re doing great, kiddo. The most grown-up thing you can do is fail at something you care about.”

Roman sniffs, and hugs Patton tightly. “Thanks, Pop Star”

“Now, do you want to hear what Emile did?”

Roman struggles for a moment. “I’m trying very hard to be grown-up, but I really don’t.”

“No trust me. You do.”

Roman eyes him warily.

"When we were coming back from the campsite, he got tangled up in his own life jacket. And fell into the water because of it.”

“…really?”

“Mmmhmm. And… I may have taken longer than I should have to get him out because I had to not be laughing when I pulled him back into the boat.”

Roman chuckles, then laughs, and Pat’s laughing too.

And suddenly, Roman notices something.

“What are those on the wall? Are those my paintings?”

“Oh those? Yesirree!”

“Did you just put them up?”

“Of course not. They’ve been up since you sent them home in freshman year, sweetie.”

“…you didn’t help Virgil just because you felt bad?”

“Oh honey, no. We’ve always loved your art.” Patton ruffles his hair. “We just want you to be happy.”

Thanks to Pat, Roman shakes off his setback, and when he sees a call from Virgil, he picks up eagerly. They go out for dinner, Roman still in his glitter from the presentation. And it is… wonderful. Virgil is sarcastic and witty, and only ever seems to mock Roman with the same level of skepticism he gives literally everyone else.

Until he finally asks, “So, now that it’s done, when are you getting the pony?That’s the big secret, right, you’re actually buying a pony?"

And Roman smiles and says, "Almost.”

“You see, I’m getting a unicorn.”

And Virgil stares a moment. Then he cracks a smile. “Cute, I get it. Like the pictures.”

“No, for real!” Roman tells him. “I’ve been working on this so that I can get a unicorn. I mean, I don’t know if I’m back in the running, but I think I fixed the family environment too so, hopefully.”

And now Virgil goes still. He’s concerned.

“Um. So, where is this unicorn coming from?”

“The Unicorn Store,” Roman responds matter-of-factly.

“Uh-huh,” Virgil nods slowly. “And that’s definitely a real place.”

“Yeah, I’ve been there several times. It’s lovely, and the Salesman is wild.”

Virgil’s eyes are a little bit bugging out of his head now. "The Salesman?”

“Yeah, he gave me the steps I need to get my unicorn. Place to live, nice environment, prove i can support them, you know. Like pet adoption, but better.”

“You gave him your financial information? Ro, I know you’re really excited but… this sounds like a scam.”

“Why does no one believe me? It’s real, I swear. There’s even a hay-staurant.”

“…you say you’ve been there? Can I come see?”

“I don’t see why not”

But when they get there, nothing seems right. The entryway sign is gone. The elevator still moves, but it doesn’t open to a pink hallway. And in the room… the decorations are gone. The Salesman isn’t there. The screen is missing. And Roman… starts to doubt. Virgil isn’t surprised, but he’s worried. Roman looks so heartbroken… did he really believe in this? A grown man, thinking he’d actually get a unicorn?

“Ro, we should go. If you need help making sure that guy hasn’t used your info to, I don’t know, buy random things, withdrawing money… I can help.”

“No,” Roman insists. “No, he’ll be back. I’ll stay.”

“Roman, c'mon, don’t do this…”

“I know what I saw!” he shouts. “It was real!”

“I don’t doubt he did a great job with the showmanship, Ro. I believe you. But he’s clearly gone now, and… it might be time to assume he’s not coming back.”

Roman doesn’t turn, and Virgil sighs. He keeps hoping Roman will relent, but if there’s one thing he’s already learned about this man, it’s that he’s stubborn. So he leaves alone. And Roman waits until he hears the elevator leave to break down.

Virgil, walking out, feels something in his shoe. He checks - it’s hay. Rainbow hay. But he expected that - it was a scam, right? A well-done scam. He walks on.

Roman goes home and finds himself just sitting in the stable, dejectedly. It’s so lovely, and it made him so happy but… He knew he was a daydreamer. Had he really fallen for such a ridiculous thing?

Dee and Pat find him together, and sit with him in the stable.

“It’s really well built,” Pat comments.

“And your art is lovely,” Dee says, fondly tracing a unicorn horn on the wall.

Roman sniffs. “It’s just a catalog of mania at this point. My slow descent into madness.”

Dee hugs him around the shoulders. “Roberry, you’re not crazy. You have a spark that is just… so unique. No one could hope to match the way you view the world. Hell, even I can’t. Neither can your Papa. But that doesn’t mean you’re wrong. It means we’re just limited.”

“Is this some of that feel-d trip stuff you tell the troubled teens?”

Dee grins. “Nah, they never believe the sappy shit. This is just for you.”

Roman wipes his eyes. “I’m sorry I’m such a disappointment.”

Dee and Pat object in one voice.

Dee continues, “Hun, you are so loved. By us, by the people who meet you… You’re joy, Roman. You remind people of joy.”

“And that boy seems to really like you, too.”

Roman groans. “He definitely thinks I’m crazy.”

“Give him a chance, okay?” Pat asks, patting Roman’s shoulder. “He might surprise you.”

“He built this, didn’t he?” Dee asks, gesturing around. “He’s gotta like you at least a little.”

The next day, Roman goes back to the hardware store, looking for him. He searches every department, and all the back rooms he can sneak into, but nothing. No Virgil. He ends up sitting in the backyard, glaring at the stable, but still… hoping.

He’s interrupted one day by a very tentative knock on the back gate. And Virgil comes out, looking sheepish.

“Hey, sorry, I didn’t mean to disappear…”

“I was looking for you at the hardware store?”

“I got transferred, actually. Turns out having a full construction project to my name means your boy got promoted. I’m… sorry, about the store. I shouldn’t have left you so abruptly.”

“It’s okay. And congrats.”

Virgil sits in the stable next to Roman, and smiles when Roman leans over on his shoulder.

He’s about to suggest they get coffee when Roman’s phone starts ringing.

“Hello?”

“Congratulations, Roman! He’s arrived!”

“Who is this? Who’s arrived?”

“The Salesman, of course. And your unicorn. He is here in the store, waiting for you.”

Virgil stares at the phone. “That’s him?” he mutters. “Here, if he’s a scammer, let me talk to him, okay?”

“I… you’re sure? He’s there?” Roman asks. His heart is in his throat. What if it really all had been true? What if Virgil scares him away? “I came by, and you were gone…”

“We don’t set up the full store for just anyone, Roman. It’s not for him. It’s just for you. But you need to let me know if you’re serious about this unicorn. If you don’t want him, there’s a woman who’s qualified who needs him just as much.”

“I’m coming!” Roman interjects. “Don’t give him away, please! I’ll be there as soon as I can!”

He jumps up and is practically sprinting to the car, Virgil barely able to keep up.

“Roman, can I at least come with?”

“Yes, sure, just don’t tell me not to go,” Roman says, practically vibrating with excitement.

The decorations aren’t fully back, but the sign outside is, at least. They descend through the elevator, and this time… the hall isn’t empty.

“Ah, Roman! You made it! And I see you brought… a companion,” the Salesman says, eyeing Virgil suspiciously. “He will, of course, have to stay out here while you meet him.”

“He’s really here?” Roman asks breathlessly. “My…?”

“Your unicorn, yes. I called you to say so, did I not? He’s right through those doors.”

“And I can meet him?”

“Yes, of course. You don’t have to take him home - as I said, another woman also needs him if you don’t want to anymore”

Virgil outright staring at the Salesman’s outfit. It’s blue today, all satin and rhinestones and tinsel. But still with a nicely-tied tie. The Salesman looks back, and adjusts his glasses. “Salutations.”

Roman approaches the doorway slowly, and eases it open. Rainbows spill out as he walks in, letting the door close behind him.

He is…. beautiful.

He’s there, in real life. A huge, graceful horse with a pearl horn and a shimmery mane. He wickers at Roman’s approach.

“Hi,” Roman breathes. “You’re… oh my god, you’re here. It’s Mr. Unicorn, right? Do you care?”

The creature nods.

Roman feels tears rolling down his cheeks as he reaches out a gentle hand to caress the beautiful thing’s nose.

“I’ve waited for you for so long. I wished for you every birthday. I would close my eyes and think 'send me someone to love me, unconditionally, for me.’" He smiles wetly. "I called you Steve.”

“And I… I worried so badly that you weren’t real, because I needed you to be real. I needed you to really, really love me. But…” Roman looks into a pair of soft brown eyes, huge and understanding. They feel… familiar.

“But I can’t bring you home with me. Because there’s a woman out there who needs you more than I do. And you are going to love her, okay? You’re going to love her and support her, and never judge her dreams. You’re going to make sure she knows you love her. And… and you make sure she never feels alone, okay?”

The unicorn nods, and nuzzles Roman’s chest. He wipes his eyes. “I’m going to hug you now, is that okay?” Another nod.

Roman throws his arms around the equine neck, breathing in the strange mix of lavender and sugar and sunlight that is the unicorn’s scent. A hair from the mane gets stuck to him, and easily breaks off. He tries to give it back, but the unicorn shakes his head. A memento. Just for him.

He turns to go, and sees the Salesman has entered, and brought Virgil with him. Virgil is staring, open-mouthed.

“Mr. The Salesman- I can’t take him. Please give him to the woman you mentioned, okay? She earned it, right?”

“She did. And since you no longer are a client, you can just call me Logan.”

Roman wipes his eyes, but holds tight to the single hair. “As long as he’s happy.”

“Will you be?” Logan asks. His face doesn’t betray any emotion.

Roman walks to Virgil’s side, and takes his hand. “Yeah, I think I will.”

fin

taglist: @residentanchor @royally-anxious @bewarethegrammarpolice @jemthebookworm @arandompasserby @sparkly-rainbow-salt @astral-eclipse @thelowlysatsuma @adorably-angsty @max-is-tired @almostoveranalyzed

#Roses Writes Fanfic #the unicorn store #platonic prinxiety #roman-centric <3 #romangst #moceit #paternal royality #parternal roceit #roman sanders appreciation #roman sanders #ts deceit #deceit sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #it's important to me that you know i didn't change virgil's name from the movie

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geeky-writes · 5 years

Text

Pieces of Echoes Chapter 22 Preview

Behind? Catch up on AO3/ FFN 😊

********

“How’re you doing today, Bucky?”

Bucky stared at him, his expression neutral as he studied Steve’s face. They went through this pretty much every time Steve came to visit so he should’ve been used to it by now, but it was still painful to have his oldest friend have to struggle to place who he was.

“Стивичик?” he asked.

“Yeah, Buck, that’s right,” Steve said softly. “I’m Stevie.”

“Maybe tell us a story, Papa?” Peter suggested. “Uncle Sam told me that happy stories can sometimes help bring back memories.”

Steve drew in a deep breath, his hand cupped around Peter’s skinny shoulder. What Peter said made sense of course, but unfortunately most of the stories Steve had that involved Bucky were either from the war or before Steve received the serum. Stories from the war probably wouldn’t help at all, and while Steve was often telling Peter that a person’s physical size didn't matter if they had a big heart, and that it was okay to stand up to bullies, he still felt uncomfortable with Peter hearing about him back when he was so weak that he could barely go three days without getting beat up or nearly suffocating.

He was Peter’s dad, and dads were supposed to be strong.

“Yeah, okay, little guy,” he murmured, giving Peter a quick smile.

“Oh, this’ll be good,” Peter said eagerly.

“I was almost five years old the first time that Bucky and I met,” Steve began. “It was springtime, and springtime in Brooklyn meant that everyone was out and about trying to shake their cabin fever from the long winter, and also that the air was full of dust and pollen and smoke and just about everything else that made me sick. My ma had gone to work, and since she'd been working so much and there wasn't a lot of food in the house, she told me I could walk down to the corner store and buy myself an ice cream cone if I promised to go straight there and straight back. I was just getting over a pretty bad cold, and she didn't want me exposed to too much else that might’ve made me sick again.”

“Your ma let you walk down the street alone?” Peter exclaimed. “In New York? When you were five?”

“Well, yeah,” Steve answered with a slight shake of his head. He couldn’t possibly imagine Tony allowing Peter to do such a thing. In fact, neither he nor Tony allowed Peter to do such a thing even now, and he was thirteen and had enhanced strength and agility.

“Things were quite a bit different back in the twenties, little guy,” he said, with just a touch of regret. “Not as… fast.” No alien invasions, no evil company executives out to get me and my family… just no father, an overworked and underpaid mother, and not enough money for food or medicine.

“Yeah, I suppose that makes sense,” Peter said. “But still, you and Dad would never—”

“And things are going to stay that way for the foreseeable future, Peter,” Steve said, a bit more sternly than he probably needed to. “All right?”

Peter blinked nervously as he nodded. “Uh huh.”

“So, of course I promised my ma that I would do as she said, because it was ice cream, right?” Steve continued, chuckling when Peter gave an emphatic nod. “So there I was, walking down the street with my head down and my hand in my pocket, clutching the shiny nickel that ma had given me for my ice cream, when these three other boys appeared on the sidewalk in front of me. They were all at least a head taller and a lot broader, and they stepped right up to me and demanded that I give them my money. And when I told them no and to leave me alone, the biggest boy punched me right in the face, and I hit the ground so hard that I got dizzy.”

“But you got up again, right, Papa?” asked Peter.

“I did,” Steve said with a nod. “And my nose was bleeding and it hurt so bad that I could barely see, but I did get back up. But before I could even draw back my fist Bucky suddenly appeared out of nowhere, shoved me aside and punched the boy so hard that he knocked him back into his two friends and they all ended up hitting the sidewalk.” He looked over at Bucky, whose lower lip was twitching, his eyes trained on the sketchbook in front of him. “And then you tossed me an old handkerchief and told me to wipe my nose, and then asked if I wanted to play stickball in the street. And I knew I wasn’t supposed to, especially since I was still coughing quite a bit and my chest was already starting to tighten up. But I—” Steve broke off, swallowing hard as he remembered how unbelievably lonely he had been back then. How he had always wished for a friend to play with, one who wouldn’t mind playing indoors most of the time since he couldn’t be outside for very long.

“I did anyway,” Steve continued. “I went and played, and about fifteen minutes later—”

“You started turning blue,” Bucky suddenly said, low and gravelly. He slowly looked up, meeting Steve’s eyes. “You were doubled over, with your skinny-ass arms wrapped around your stomach and your eyes so wide they were almost popping outta your head. And you said, ‘My ma’s gonna kill me’, and I said—

“That I looked like I’d die before she got the chance,” Steve finished, trailing off as his lips curled into a shaky smile. “Bucky, do you remember?”

Bucky’s eyes shifted as a pause settled between them, laced with regret.

“Sometimes,” he whispered. He shook his head, his shaggy hair falling across his forehead and into his eyes. “Bits and pieces, here and there. Most of the time I can’t tell what’s real and what’s made up anymore, if the memories are clear or if they're shiny, if I’m still who you say I am or if I’m what you say they turned me into. But other times it’s—” and he glanced over at Peter, giving him an almost imperceptible smile.

“Other times it’s better.”

“Then we just have to hope it’ll keep getting better,” Peter said, and Steve's heart gave a lurch at his sincerity and determination. “Right, Papa?”

“Absolutely, little guy,” Steve murmured as he squeezed Peter’s shoulder. “And you’re doing a great job of it.”

“Петр мой друг,” Bucky said, so softly that Steve had to strain to hear him.

“He said ‘Peter’s my friend’, Papa,” said Peter with a proud smile. “‘Cause I am.”

“Yes, he is, Bucky,” Steve said. “Peter is your friend, and he’s not the only one. There are so many people here who are willing to help you as long as you’ll let us.”

Bucky flexed his metal left hand, turning it over in his lap.

“Да” he answered. “Друзья.”

“I’m pretty sure that means, ‘friends’,” Peter whispered.

“Friends,” Steve repeated. “You have lots of friends here, Bucky, and we’ll all be with you til the end of the line. You have my word.”

He reached a tentative hand towards Bucky, placing it carefully on his shoulder. Bucky flinched at the touch, but to Steve’s relief he didn't try to pull away.

“Друзья,” he whispered.

“That’s right, Bucky,” Steve said. “And friends always help each other get back up when they’ve been beaten down, right?”

Bucky’s chin started to shake, tears welling in his piercing blue eyes. “Я хочу вспомнить,” he said quietly.

Steve looked helplessly at Peter, who only shrugged as he pulled out his phone. “JARVIS?” he asked. “Can you please display what Uncle Bucky just said?”

A lump rose in Steve’s throat when the words, I want to remember appeared across Peter’s phone screen.

“And we’re gonna help you,” Steve said, as fiercely as he dared. “I promise.”

Bucky looked up at him then, his expression tortured and intense. “Я не заслуживаю вашей помощи.”

I don’t deserve your help, scrolled across Peter’s phone.

“It doesn’t matter whether or not you deserve it,” Steve said. He tightened his fingers on Bucky’s shoulder, looking straight into his eyes. “Because you have it anyway.”

He looked away for several seconds, his metal fist opening and closing in his lap.

“Благодарю вас,” he finally said. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome,” said Peter. “Would it be okay if I come back tomorrow sometime, Uncle Bucky? Papa’s going on another trip in the morning, but I’ll still be here.”

Bucky’s lips curled into a slight smile. “Да.” He glanced at Steve, tilting his head. “Another mission?”

“No, not this time,” Steve answered, smiling sheepishly as his cheeks flushed. He held up his left hand, wiggling his wedding ring. “Um… it’s my honeymoon. Mine and Tony’s.”

Bucky’s smile grew even wider until it was practically cheeky, and for a moment he looked so much like his old self that Steve nearly burst into tears.

“Стивичик,” he said. “You rascal.”

“Got that right,” Peter mumbled, smirking.

“Tony and I will be gone for two weeks,” said Steve. “But I’ll come and see you again once we get back if that’s okay.”

“Да,” replied Bucky. “Have fun. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Thank you,” Steve said softly. “Take care, Buck.”

At Bucky's nod he and Peter stood up from the bed and exited the room. “He is getting better, Papa,” Peter said once they were in the elevator. “It’s just gonna take awhile.”

Ever the optimist, Steve thought fondly as he ruffled Peter’s hair. I should take some lessons.

“I know, little guy,” he said. “It’s just… it’s hard for me to see him like this. He was always so full of life, even larger than life, and now—”

“He won’t ever be exactly the same as he used to be, Papa,” Peter said. “But we can still help him be the best that he can be now.”

Steve gave him a sad smile, trying hard to contain the flurry of emotions swirling inside him. Steve knew that if the science of what HYDRA had done to Bucky was unclear to even Bruce and Tony, two of the most intelligent people in the world, then he himself would be very hard-pressed to understand it.

Unfortunately, that knowledge didn’t help much. Watching Bucky struggle to remember him almost hurt more than when he thought he had lost him for good.

And besides all that, he and Tony were leaving for their honeymoon in only a matter of hours, and it wasn’t going to be fair to Tony for Steve to be so distracted by what was going on with Bucky.

“You’re absolutely right, Peter,” Steve said, a lot more emphatically than he felt. “And it doesn’t do any good to dwell on things that we can’t change, right?” Isn't that what I’m always saying to Tony?

“Right.” He shot Steve a rather wary look as they stepped into the penthouse. “I still can’t believe your ma let you wander around Brooklyn when you were not even five though.”

“Who’s wandering around Brooklyn?” Tony asked as he entered the living room.

“No one is wandering around—” Steve started.

“Papa was,” Peter cut in. “He just told Uncle Bucky and me a story about how he was walking to get ice cream before he was five.”

Tony quirked a stern eyebrow in Steve’s direction. “Uncle Bucky? Are we really there already?”

Peter shrugged. “It’s no big deal, Dad. I felt weird just calling him Bucky, and if he’s gonna be living here with us from now on, why not?”

“Mmm,” Tony grumbled. “Okay, so who’s wandering around Brooklyn now?”

“I was when I was five, Tony,” Steve said with a huff. “And I’ve made it perfectly clear to Peter that things were very different back then and that under no circumstances is he allowed to do the same.”

“Damn right he’s not,” Tony stated. “And you just heard me say that, right, bud?”

“Loud and clear,” muttered Peter.

The full chapter will post on Monday, July 1st 😊

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