#grades and first boyfriends and parents not understanding teenage emotions are all long behind me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

letarasstuff · 4 years

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Where do you go?

(A/N): This is requested by an anon and based on this post.

Summary: How does Hotch’s daughter, who everyone goes to with their own problems, cope with her mother’s death two years later?

Warnings: Angst. Grief. Dealing with a loved one’s death

Wordcount: 2.2k

✨Masterlist✨ _____________________________

“Hey (Y/N), I really need your help with Tim. Do you have a minute for me?” (Y/N) turns around to see a boy from her science class. It’s not like she knows him that much, they occasionally team up for small projects, there is nothing more behind that.

“Uh of course. I just had my last class, so I got time for you.” She smiles and lets him, Vincent is his name she thinks, rant to her about how his boyfriend doesn’t understand his needs.

This is nothing out of the ordinary for her, to be asked for advice. She simply is a good listener and gives good tips, the best even according to people close to the teenager. The problem is her limited knowledge on relationships. “Coaches don’t play”, Hotch tells her. And he intends on keeping it that way.

“That does really suck. Did you try to talk to him about it?” (Y/N) asks the boy in front of her. Suddenly he bursts into tears, describing how he only sees breaking up as a solution. She awkwardly pats his back and says encouraging words to him. That he will make the right decision, that he shouldn’t rush it and that he has to take his time.

After Vincent, or is it Gordon, calms down he looks up at the girl. “Thank you for listening. You were a great help, (Y/N).” He hugs her and leaves.

As she looks over the parking lot she spots her father’s car. Excitedly (Y/N) walks over and gets onto the passenger seat. “Hey, I didn’t know you pick me up today”, she greets him.

“We finished the case early and I was on the way home and thought giving you a lift wouldn’t hurt. Who was that boy? Is there something I should know?” Hotch looks at her from the side. But his daughter shakes her head. “Don’t worry, he is gay. He just needed a shoulder to cry on about his ruined relationship.”

“You do know you are not the school’s therapist, don’t you? At this point your classmates should pay you.” He tries to joke about it, but as a father he is worried. Since Haley died, (Y/N) took it upon her to make sure everybody is happy, no matter at what costs.

“I know, Dad. I’m fine and Alex feels better.”

A few days later (Y/N) sits in JJ’s living room, watching the mother go from one place to the next. “Food is in the fridge, so help yourself. Henry’s bedtime is in half an hour, please make sure he goes to sleep by then. He should be easy to put down, Will made sure to tire him out earlier. All important numbers are on the fridge. Feel free to watch anything on the TV.”

The teenager volunteered to babysit Henry, giving his parents a child free evening. “Thank you, JJ. We will rock this, don’t we?” She looks down to the boy on her lap, who nods his head.

“Good. Behave for (Y/N), ok?” The mother gives her son a kiss on the head. After Will’s goodbye the couple is gone.

“Ok, how about we get real comfy on your bed and I read you a story?” Henry nods again. He takes (Y/N) by her hand to his room. As suggested they lay down on his bed.

“Which one do you want me to read to you?” But the boy looks unsure all of a sudden. “Can we just talk?” Surprised the teenager nods. “Whatever you like, champ.”

“Uh okay, do you know Mommy is a bit… much? She is like there and the next second she is here and then she isn’t here for days. I- this is sooo annoying”, Henry rants to her. He is only three, so it is kept rather simple.

“Oh man, she must be a handful, champ. But you have to keep in mind that she really loves you and in the end this is the only thing that matters. Do you love her, too?” It hurts her to talk about a mother’s love, since her own passed away over two years ago. (Y/N) still misses her. She is sure it will never go away.

“Of course I love her.” Sleepily Henry cuddles closer to (Y/N), holding his plush toy near him. After that, he falls asleep safe and sound. The teenager waits for a bit, watching him scrunching up his nose every few minutes.

The next day at the BAU a knock is heard on the Unit Chief’s door. “Come in!”

“Hey Dad, I thought a little visit wont hurt”, the daughter enters the room. Automatically a smile appears on Hotch’s face. “Also, I thought a little help from Spencer wont hurt, too”, she adds with a laugh. “Last time I checked he was in Garcia’s lair. You might have a shot finding him there”, he tips her off.

“Thank you Dad, you are the best!” Not long after this she steps into the Technical Analyst’s office and is immediately greeted by the preppy woman being anything but preppy.

“What in heaven’s name do they think I am, do you know it (Y/N)? They want me to work faster and more efficiently and expect me to be all sunshine and rainbows while looking at the most gruesome pictures ever taken on a daily basis! Un-be-lie-va-ble!” The blonde walks back and forth, gesticulating wildly.

The teenager takes her hands in an attempt to calm her down. “Sit down and tell me from the beginning what you are talking about.” This ends in Penelope raging about some superiors for an hour. When she finally calms down, it is like she wakes up. “Oh my, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to load all that up on you. You don’t need that in addition to-” She suddenly cuts herself off.

“I’m fine, really. It’ll be like any other day.” The smile the girl struggles to put on looks pained. “My sweet sweet summer child, the second anniversary of your mother’s death is not like any other day. You are still allowed to grief, you know that, right?” Penelope hugs (Y/N), cradling her close to her chest.

“I know, Penny. Thank you for reminding me. But I have to go, I need Spencer’s help with my chemistry assignment. You know, gotta keep those grades up.” With that she makes a beeline for the bullpen, leaving a stunned Technical Analyst by herself.

Since Foyet Hotch worries about his daughter. He learned many things about her coping mechanisms in the last two years: She tries to do it on her own.

In times like this the similarity between him and (Y/N) frustrates him. Aaron also tends to deal with his emotions alone, in the safe space of his own four walls. With all of his qualifications he knows it’s not healthy and he slowly learns to let his feelings loose around people he trusts, typically his team.

The difference between (Y/N) and Hotch is that he knows when he reaches his breaking point and she doesn’t about hers. So in a situation like right now being a profiler comes in handy with the job as a father.

It’s the day. The second anniversary of a mother’s death.

Hotch already planned the whole day for his two kids. At first he wakes both of them up, a luxus he seldom is able to indulge. But for today he has called into work saying he won't be coming any time before ten.

The mood around the house is suffocating. Even the little boy notices the heaviness of the day and its meaning.

“Are you ready, (Y/N)? I’m gonna drop you and Jack off at school!” Aaron shouts standing at the foot of the stairs. “I’m coming!” The answer is heard faintly.

Not long after this the Hotchner Household is on their way to the youngest’s elementary school. “Behave and remember: If you don’t feel fine it’s okay. Just tell your teachers and they will call me and I will get you, do you understand?” The father looks at his son with a certain seriousness. “Understood”, the blonde boy confirms and gives him a hug.

When he is back onto the driver’s seat, (Y/N) speaks up. “I don’t feel good about letting him to school today. What if he suddenly gets overwhelmed? I don’t think his teachers are able to calm him down.” Hotch gives his daughter a glance from the side. Jack never showed any signs of what she just described.

“They know to call me. I also told him it's all right to let them call me. He is in good hands.” It’s quiet for the next few minutes. “Dad, this is not the way to school”, the teenager tries to alert her father.

“I know. You won’t go today. I called you in sick when you were in the bathroom. I got the day planned, be ready to be surprised.”

The first thing they do is having breakfast in a little niché café. They once visited it regularly with Haley, way long before Jack was born. The two of them sit down at a booth in the corner.

“What can I get you two sweeties?” A waitress asks, her notebook ready in her hands. While the father orders their usuals, (Y/N) lets her eyes wander. So many memories at once crash onto her.

“Do you remember this one waiter, who always got you a hot cup of chocolate for free?” Aaron says after noticing her sad look. The girl begins to smile through the tears forming in her eyes. “Of course. Mom always got nearly a heart attack seeing me down it like it’s juice. I-” Her voice breaks. The tears fall down and make their way over her cheeks.

“It’s ok, you don’t have to say anything. I’m here. For anything you want or need me. Because nobody expects you to be alright, especially on this day.” He takes her hand and looks her in the eyes. (Y/N) nods, leaning against her father’s shoulder. He puts an arm on her, keeping her closer.

“I know. It’s just- It still hurts. So so badly. I feel like she still is here, but that’s just not true and that hurts me more.” Silently Hotch motions the waitress to make the order to go, while rubbing his child’s arm. Because that’s what she still is, a child.

A child that went through much, especially for her age. When (Y/N) calms down a little, they make their way back to the car.

“I thought we are going to the BAU to distract you for a while. But I can call the team and tell them we are going to do a SPA day at home or something. What do you want?”

“Can we go to them? And maybe leave earlier to do face masks at home before picking Jack up?” There is no way the father can say no to her puppy dog eyes. “Of course, Honey. Anything you want.”

As soon as the doors of the elevator open to floor six of the FBI building in Quantico, Penelope Garcia embraces (Y/N) in a big bear hug. “My sweet sweet summer child. You are so strong, I admire you. We are so happy to have you here” she whispers into the teenager's ear. “Thank you, Penny. Thank you so much.”

Over the course of the next few hours (Y/N) visits everyone’s desk. At first she goes into the lair, where mountains of cookies wait for her. Then she sits at Spencer’s desk, listening to cute facts about sloths. But Emily is quick to steal her from the genius, bribing the girl with new pictures of Sergio. Derek takes the teen from there, pushing her through the office on a desk chair with wheels. Her father is able to hear her laughs in his office, which puts a small smile on his face.

After that (Y/N) goes to JJ, who has a drawn picture from Henry for her. “Will had to write ‘best babysitter ever’ for him”, the blonde explains, pointing at the picture. The girl smiles. “Woah, I think you got a little Picasso at home. Tell him I love it.”

Her last stop is Rossi’s office. The older man looks at her with a fond smile. “Do you know that I see so much of your father and mother in you?” Confused, she glances at him.

“You are as stoic as Aaron. You are determined. But you are also caring and loving, like Haley. You are a perfect combination of both of them. Just keep that in your mind.”

As mysterious as this seems, it somehow makes (Y/N) happy. Happy to know a part of her mother is always with her.

Soon the little family departes for their home. Not long after they bid their goodbyes, Penelope receives a picture of the Unit Chief and the teenager with pink glitter masks. The father is willing to do anything to make her smile, even when this means he gets a basket of various masks the next day for teasingly reasons.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #hotch x daughter!reader #aaron hotch x daughter!reader #aaron hotch x teen!reader #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfiction #bau x reader #bau x teen!reader #x daughter!reader #x teen!reader #x reader #reader insert

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ibijau · 4 years

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and another thing for the lingzhui winter exchange :D this one for HamsterQinghua

Sizhui smiled, looking absolutely devastated.

“I really would love to hang out with you, but I already have plans with someone after school. Another time?”

Jin Ling scowled.

First of all, because he hadn’t cornered Sizhui on the way to his next class to invite him to hang out. It was a date. He was trying to ask Sizhui out. Sure it’d be at the fast food place they always ended up after school, because Sizhui had an early curfew on week nights and too many activities to attend in the weekend, but they would have gone there with intent, and so that would absolutely have counted as a date.

Second of all, Sizhui had exactly two other friends: his annoying cousin Jingyi, and Zizhen from the art club they all went to. And Jin Ling, prudently, had made sure that neither of them had plans with Sizhui that afternoon. Which meant that Sizhui had plans with someone that Jin Ling didn’t know about.

Before he could ask about that, Sizhui’s phone started buzzing, its screen lighting up to warn of an incoming call. Because Sizhui had it in hand at that moment, Jin Ling was able to catch a glimpse of the screen, which was enough to turn his blood to ice, especially with the way Sizhui’s eyes lit up and a small smile crept up on his face.

“Ah, I’ve really got to take that!” Sizhui apologised. “And you have English next, right? So I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He dashed off without so much as a last glance at Jin Ling, all his attention on his phone.

Jin Ling sat with Zizhen at the back of the English classroom, and they both proceeded to ignore anything the teacher intended to share with them, too busy whispering about the crisis that Jin Ling had just discovered. And it had to be a crisis to distract Zizhen, who usually at least tried to pretend he was paying attention. But the situation was too dire for that.

“Are you sure it can’t have just been his father?” Zizhen asked in a hushed tone.

“Sizhui would never call him ‘daddy’,” Jin Ling assured him, careful to keep his voice low as well. “He’d never be so informal, he’s not Jingyi. So it has to be someone else. And he looked so… happy.”

Zizhen rested his chin on the palm of his hand. He glanced at the teacher, just to make sure their lack of attention hadn’t been noticed yet, then glanced sideways at Jin Ling.

“Do you think he has a sugar daddy or something?”

“But he doesn’t need the money,” Jin Ling grumbled. “His family owns half the town.”

“Yeah but Jingyi says his dad checks how he uses his allowance,” Zizhen pointed out, “so maybe Sizhui wants to have money he doesn’t need to explain how he spends? Also, it might be his way of rebelling. I mean, he’s overdue for some real teenage rebellion. Nobody can be that good all the time. Or maybe the guy is just, like, insanely hot and Sizhui is super into him.”

Jin Ling checked that the teacher wasn’t looking, and kicked Zizhen’s chair.

“So what?” he hissed. “I’m hot too.”

“Cute at best,” Zizhen retorted, unphased. “On a good day. Nothing that could compare to the appeal of an older guy with money, ready to spoil him and buy him everything he likes.”

“I always buy him milkshakes,” Jin Ling pouted. “When he lets me, anyway.”

In truth, Jin Ling would have loved to spoil Sizhui more, but Sizhui refused most of the time and even insisted on paying for Jin Ling’s snacks frequently, like Jin Ling was some sort of little sibling who needed to be looked after. It didn’t help that Sizhui had weird hang-ups about debts and owing things to anyone. Jingyi said it was because he had gone through some difficult things before being adopted by the Lans, but on bad days Jin Ling felt it was just because Sizhui wanted to put distance between them.

Today was definitely a bad day, because Sizhui had a cool older boyfriend, maybe.

“So, what are you going to do about it?” Zizhen asked.

“Nothing.”

Zizhen’s eyebrows rose high on his face. “Your crush has a sugar daddy and you’re not going to do anything about it?”

“It’s his life,” Jin Ling hissed. “I’ll get over it easily.”

There were people he might have hoped to convince with that. Zizhen definitely wasn’t one of them. He had been Jin Ling’s confidant through the whole ordeal, from the slow realisation that he had a crush on Sizhui, to trying to get the attention of the older boy. Zizhen had brainstormed with him through dozens of ideas for a first date to ask Sizhui on. He knew how much Jin Ling liked their friend. More than liked, perhaps, though it wasn’t something Jin Ling felt ready to face, especially not after this new development.

“Okay,” Zizhen whispered. “That’s very mature of you and all. Then I guess I’ll be the only one following Sizhui after school to catch a glimpse of his mysterious super hot sugar daddy. I understand how that doesn’t interest you at all.”

Jin Ling kicked his friend’s chair again, this time attracting the attention of the teacher who glared at them. They both put on their most innocent smiles, and their usually good grades meant the teacher let it go for that time, only warning them to be quiet and let others work.

“So, are you coming with me or not?” Zizhen whispered when there was less attention on them.

“Only to make sure you don’t get in trouble,” Jin Ling retorted. “I don’t care at all about who Sizhui may or may not be dating. And I swear if we’re spotted, I’m blaming you.”

Sizhui’s date was an older man who was at least in his mid-thirties. He didn’t look particularly rich though, not with his patched up leather jacket, ripped jeans, and long messy ponytail. He looked rather like the sort of person who some of Jin Ling’s relatives made fun of sometimes for refusing to grow and act their age, and who obviously didn’t have a real, serious job like they did.

He was very handsome though. Movie actor handsome. And he smiled so wide when he walked to Sizhui that it illuminated his face, like Sizhui was the best thing to have ever happened to him. And he wrapped an arm around Sizhui’s shoulder as they walked together to the café across the street from their high school.

It was awful. Sizhui really had found himself a 'mysterious super hot sugar daddy' as Zizhen put it, and it was obvious that they both cared a lot about each other, and there was just no way Jin Ling could compete with that.

“I’m going home,” he grunted as they watched the couple sit on the terrace.

“No you’re not,” Zizhen retorted, grabbing him by the elbow and pulling him ahead.

With how much Jin Ling struggled and complained, it was a real miracle that Sizhui and his mysterious date didn’t notice them coming to sit at the nearest table, nothing but some potted plants hiding them. But apparently the couple was just that into each other, and Sizhui had his back on them anyway and he was too polite to turn around and look at the commotion, while his stupid hot date didn’t know the two weird teenagers peering at him through the leaves of some small palm trees.

He was even more handsome from up close, the bastard. However, the older man’s face had something very punchable to it. It might have been just Jin Ling’s jealousy speaking. At the same time, the waiter very pointedly rolled his eyes at something Hot-and-Mysterious said, so obviously he was, in fact, a universally annoying person.

Still, he had such a soft expression when looking at Sizhui, Jin Ling didn’t know how anyone could allow themselves to show their emotions so openly, especially at that age. He wanted Hot-and-Mysterious to stop already, especially because of what Sizhui was saying to deserve such an expression.

“It’s just so much, you know?” Sizhui explained, almost shyly. Jin Ling could just picture that smile his friend had sometimes, with just a hint of insecurity, like he feared to bother people just by being around. “I’m… it’s too much. I’m sure I’m not supposed to feel this much. My great-uncle would say I’m too young for this.”

“But you’re feeling it,” Hot-and-Mysterious retorted, clearly a little amused. “You can’t be too young if you’re already feeling it.”

Sizhui nodded. “It’s a little scary though, isn’t it? Every time, it feels like my heart is going to explode, and… and I keep wondering if I’m going to ruin this by saying too much, or doing too much, or…”

Hot-and-Mysterious leaned toward Sizhui, and took his hand, gently brushing his thumb against Sizhui’s knuckles.

“Love is scary,” he said. “But it’s good as well, right? Don’t listen to people who tell you to be reasonable or to wait until you’re older. School’s important, studies are important, but… you’re young. You’ve got to live a little, right?”

“You think this could be love?” Sizhui gasped.

“Sounds like it to me,” Hot-and-Mysterious replied with a fond chuckle. “Hey, it’s fine. I don’t mind. If anything, I’m happy. I’m glad the two of us can talk openly about something like that. I’m glad my baby can tell me this.”

That, it turned out, was exactly as much as Jin Ling could put up with. He stood from his chair so fast it fell behind him, and strode away from the café and from Sizhui being in love with someone else. It had been a stupid idea to follow Sizhui and his boyfriend, anyway, so Zizhen could pay their tab for having suggested that in the first place. Jin Ling had been raised better than that, and if his parents heard about it, they’d have his head for acting like such a creep.

He hoped Sizhui would find joy with his stupidly hot boyfriend.

Personally, Jin Ling knew he would never be happy ever again.

The following day, Jin Ling didn’t see Sizhui until lunch break at school. It was unusual, because they always chatted a bit before their first class, and would at least smile at each other when they met between lessons. That morning though, Jin Ling changed path to make sure it wouldn’t happen. It got him scolded by the teachers when he arrived late, but it was better than having to see Sizhui and be reminded that the older boy was in love with someone else.

It worked until lunch, when Sizhui managed to spot him trying to buy a sandwich he’d eat in a hidden corner.

“Hello, A-Ling!” Sizhui greeted him as he joined him in the queue. He was smiling brightly, a touch of colour to his cheeks. It was unfair, really, that someone so pretty existed in Jin Ling’s life. How was he supposed to not have fallen for Sizhui? “I didn’t see you this morning, I was starting to wonder if you were sick maybe.”

“I’d have texted you,” Jin Ling grumbled.

“Not if you were very sick,” Sizhui replied. “So I’m glad I found you. Especially since I have something I want to talk about, if you have time?”

“Sure. Let me just grab lunch.”

Sizhui nodded, clearly in an excellent mood. They both got a sandwich, and walked toward a deserted corner, under the stairs to the science classrooms. It was a quiet place to hang out at, especially at that hour of the day. They only ever went there when it was just the two of them, because the space would have been too small if Zizhen and Jingyi had joined them. In fact even for two people it was a little cramped. Normally Jin Ling secretly enjoyed that forced closeness. That day he couldn’t bear it and sat a little further away, even if it meant he’d be visible should anyone pass by.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” Jin Ling grumbled, glaring at his sandwich.

He wasn’t sure why he’d bothered buying it. He really wasn’t hungry.

Next to him, Sizhui nervously nodded, also looking down at his lunch.

“Right. That. Right, right. Here is the thing,” Sizhui explained. “I’ve been wondering… would you like to go to the cinema with me on friday? Just… just the two of us, I’m not inviting Zizhen and Jinyi. And it’d be my treat of course. And if you want, we can grab something to eat after? I’ve already asked my father, he’s okay with letting me stay out a little later.”

“You’re making it sound like a date,” Jin Ling huffed.

“Well, yeah, that’s because it would be one. I’m… I’m asking you out, A-Ling.”

Jin Ling looked up at his friend with round eyes. It was everything he’d ever wanted to hear, and Sizhui didn’t look like he was joking. If anything, Sizhui seemed so embarrassed that he couldn’t even meet Jin Ling’s face, his entire face red, his knees drawn against his chest.

It should have been the best thing ever, except…

“What about your boyfriend?” Jin Ling blurted.

“My what?” Sizhui gasped.

“I know about him!” Jin Ling announced. “I saw you with him yesterday, and Zizhen too saw you! You were at the café, all cozy and happy with that guy! And he was holding your hand!”

“A-Ling, that’s not… it’s not like that, I swear!”

“Of course it’s like that!” Jin Ling exploded. “And I like you a lot you know! I like you and I want to go out with you! But I know you have a boyfriend and I’m not desperate or stupid enough to go out with you when you already have someone! I’d have thought you liked me a little better than that, and I’m so disappointed that you’d try something like that, and…”

“A-Ling, that was my dad!” Sizhui exclaimed, hurriedly putting away his sandwich.

Jin Ling blinked a few times, shocked into silence by that very stupid lie.

“Well, not my real father obviously,” Sizhui hurriedly corrected. “You’ve met my father. But that’s my… my other dad, I guess.”

“You said your birth parents were dead!”

“They are,” Sizhui confirmed, drawing his legs to his chest once more and resting his forehead against his knees. “It’s… it’s a little complicated. I don’t even remember all of it, honestly, but my dad told me some of it, and my father confirmed it. So… when I was very young, my parents died, and I went to live with some relatives of mine. There was my great-aunt, an uncle, and some cousins, as well as a friend of my cousins.”

Sizhui turned his head so he could look at Jin Ling, and smiled.

“It wasn’t a bad time. I was pretty happy there, and that friend of my cousins kind of informally adopted me. Or I adopted him?” Sizhui chuckled. “Well, I started calling him daddy, anyway, and nobody corrected me. It was… it was really great. I stayed there for a year or two. Until there was that fire.”

Sizhui hid his face again, while Jin Ling nodded along. The rest was new, but Sizhui had already told him about losing his family in a fire. He had just assumed that meant his parents.

“Dad managed to get me out,” Sizhui whispered. “But he couldn’t save anyone else, so after that it was just the two of us… but not for very long. It really hit him hard to lose everyone like that, and he didn’t really have a steady job at that time, or any family to turn to, you know? So for a while we lived in the streets or in squats here and there, until I got sick and he realised he couldn’t keep me anymore. He managed to get social workers to take me away, and he just disappeared from my life. And then a few weeks ago, he contacted me again. He’d finally managed to land on his feet again after struggling for years, and he’d found out I was adopted, and… and it turned out my father and him knew each other in school, so my father agreed to let him talk to me. We’ve met a few times, and we text a lot and call sometimes. It’s nice.”

“I’m so sorry,” Jin Ling mumbled.

Sizhui raised his head, blinking away some moisture at the corner of his eyes before smiling at Jin Ling.

“It’s okay. It’s not so bad, I’m glad to have him back. And one of my cousins actually survived the fire, so I’ve been in contact with him as well. It’s… it’s kind of cool to have family again. I mean I have my father and his family, but this… this is different, right?”

“I meant sorry for forcing you to share that,” Jin Ling corrected. “It’s… you didn’t need to tell me that. I messed up. Fuck, I messed up again!”

Sizhui laughed, softly, a fragile little sound that made Jin Ling’s heart beat faster.

“It’s okay,” he repeated. “If it’s you, I don’t mind sharing that sort of things. I’ve wanted to tell you about it actually, but I was waiting to make sure that things were going fine first. Plus I was kind of hoping that maybe when I introduced you to my dad, it’d be as my boyfriend. It’s… I’ve been telling him about you.”

“You have?” Jin Ling gasped. “Oh no. What did you say?”

Sizhui laughed again, a little lighter and more cheerful this time.

“I’ve told him that you’re clever and determined,” Sizhui announced with a warm smile. “That you always try hard to do the right thing, and even though you have an awful temper sometimes, you’re never afraid to admit when you’re wrong. I’ve told him also that you’re… you’re very handsome, that I like you a lot, and that I’ve been wanting to ask you out for a long while. And I have, now. So, uh. Friday night?”

“No way!” Jin Ling exclaimed.

When he saw Sizhui’s pretty smile fall, Jin Ling almost slapped himself.

“No way you’re asking me on a date,” he clarified, “because I’m the one asking you out. I’m the one taking you to the cinema, and taking you out to eat after! It’s the least I can do after...” Jin Ling made a vague hand gesture. “So, yeah. I’m asking you out, and I’m taking you on a date!”

Sizhui stared at him with wide eyes. He blinked a few times, his mouth dropping open, and burst out laughing.

“Sure, let’s do it like that,” Sizhui agreed, smiling beautifully once more.

Jin Ling smiled back.

It was going to be the best date in the history of dating, he’d make sure of it.

#lingzhui #zhuiling #jin ling #lan sizhui #ouyang zizhen #mdzs #jau writes #someone dropped out so I offered to help which is why I did two things #this one was my original contribution #had a lot of fun with it!!

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maria-scribbles · 4 years

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loyalty’s all i got | part one

summary: three years ago, you had it all: great friends, good grades, and an almost perfect relationship with your boyfriend, jj. it all came crashing down when your mom relocated your family to california for work and you were forced to trade the outer banks for malibu, leaving your broken heart behind in the place you were just starting to think of as home. now you're back in town for college and to pick up the pieces, hoping to make things right again with your friends and the boy you never stopped loving.

word count: 8.9k+ i'm legit incapable of writing something short 😅

ship: jj maybank x female!reader, pogue friendship

warnings: mentions of child abuse, non-graphic injuries, weed, swearing, underage drinking, learning to be vulnerable, trust issues, first love, jj getting the love and affection he deserves, underage sex (nothing too descriptive but it gets a lil spicy, just fyi), teenage heartbreak, failed long distance relationship, angst with a happy ending, references to some taylor swift songs 'cause she's a queen.

a/n: got a lil plot bunny that wouldn't leave me alone so here we are lol. title and inspiration for this fic comes from train's song "rescue dog" that gave me 'jj x reader where they're both damaged goods' vibes the second i heard it. this is semi canon-compliant as the treasure hunt never happened but big john is still alive and kie and sarah still work out their issues and become friends again. i used the names daisy, daniel, deke, and mack as a tribute to agents of shield, one of my favorite shows that had just had its series finale (and i'm still an emotional mess). enjoy and keep an eye out for part two, coming soon!

~masterlist~

part one: when our love was young and easy

For you, having a traveling nurse as a mom was both a blessing and a curse. When you were a kid, you loved bouncing around the country to a new town every so often and finding new places to explore with your rebellious big sister. Back then, she was all you needed to be happy: you'd go anywhere and everywhere as long as Daisy, your best friend, was by your side.

As you both grew older and started school, you slowly realized that packing up your life every few years sucked. Yeah, seeing new places was cool and all but the novelty wore off fast when you found yourself making friends with your classmates, kids who weren't your sister for once, only to lose touch whenever you moved again. You felt like a ghost, haunting a new school for a while and then leaving behind nothing but a memory, one that gradually faded over time until it was gone, as if you never existed at all. You wondered if anyone actually remembered you.

It was hard. You gradually became more sullen and withdrawn, finding it more and more difficult to make friends when you knew they wouldn't last, while Daisy acted out even worse than usual and ended up being grounded almost every week. It took her getting arrested while graffitiing the school gym on New Year's Eve for your father - a bit clueless about being a stay-at-home dad to two girls but he tried his best- to put his foot down and tell his wife enough was enough.

"Our kids need stability, Rebekah. They need a chance to make real friends and stay in one place for longer than two or three years. They need a home."

Thankfully by some miracle, your mother agreed and promised the next move would be the last until you graduated high school. You wanted to believe her so badly but you weren't sure if you could as you packed up your life once again and headed down south from Rhode Island.

That's how you ended up in the Outer Banks of North Carolina, finishing eighth grade at some fancy ass academy that you weren't sure your parents could afford. Daisy, a sophomore, seemed to have no problem fitting in on the north side of the island when she landed a job as a lifeguard at the country club and made fast friends with the rich kids that frequented the pool. It stung a bit when she eventually started ditching you for them (and some older boy named Kelce; you knew she'd snag a boyfriend eventually but you didn't realize it'd be so fast and with someone so...douchey) but you tried not to let it bother you too much, as you were okay getting by on your own and honest-to-God happy for your sister. Making friends was a scary thought when you remembered all the kids you've had to leave behind over the years, all the friendships that crumbled into dust in the wind so you tried to stay at arm's length from your classmates and told yourself you were just fine the way you were.

The loneliness was hard to ignore though, and you soon found yourself slowly, reluctantly becoming friends with a girl named Kiara that sat beside you in algebra after she helped you cram for a test you completely forgot about, even as warning bells rang loud in your mind. It wasn't long before you started sitting with her and her friend Sarah at lunch, which led to being invited to the beach and the movies and sleepovers and just like that, you remembered what friendship felt like. For the first time, you felt like a normal teenager with a best friend that wasn't your sister and although you liked Sarah, Kiara was the one you were closest to, especially when you found out she hated the kook academy as much as you did.

"Fuck it," She said at one of your sleepovers, sitting on the floor at the end of your bed and rifling through your box of movies. "I'm done with acting like something I'm not, I'm done with being fake, and I'm done with rich kid politics." She tossed Legally Blonde in your direction and then joined you in leaning against the headboard as you slipped the DVD into your laptop.

"Yeah, this whole kook thing kind of sucks." You replied, tapping through the previews to the main menu. "That's why I don't give a shit."

"And that's why I'm so happy you're my friend, Y/N," Kiara said. "You're just yourself and don't try to change for anybody. It's cool."

Cursor hovering over the play button, you paused and glanced over at the other girl. "I'm happy you're my friend, too. I...I only really had my sister growing up so just...thanks, I guess. For being here."

Kiara pulled you into a fierce hug after your impromptu confession and you hugged her back, understanding for the first time what true friendship looked like.

More kids get added to your posse -three boys named John B, JJ, and Pope- after a catastrophic falling out with Sarah over her fiasco of a birthday party and from the very first time you met them, you realized the south side of the island was where you belonged. The pogues were unabashedly, unapologetically real and you felt the freest you'd ever been when you were hanging out with them and from the way Kiara seemed so much happier, you knew she felt the same way. Those kooks and their status quo could suck it.

You vowed you wouldn't let yourself get too attached to your new friends (cohorts, as your dad jokingly called them), lest you get your heart broken when your mom inevitably moved on to the next job in a year or two; despite her promise, you just had a feeling that it wouldn't last and wished you weren't always waiting for that other shoe to drop. You didn't plan on them becoming your second family and you definitely didn't plan on falling in love for the first time, but life always found new ways to surprise you.

You were fourteen when you started to notice that one of your friends was cute as fuck. To be honest, you thought all of your friends were pretty cute but there was something about JJ that made you flustered beyond belief every time he crossed your mind. You found yourself more than a little fixated on his golden hair, his bright blue eyes, and the way you always felt at your happiest when he was around; he lived like a wild, out of control hurricane and you wanted to get swept up in the eye of his storm, despite your brain telling you not to.

You never had crushes before, always too busy anticipating worrying about your family's next move to really look at anyone like that but you were definitely looking now while you tried to balance on JJ's surfboard in the gently bobbing waves, your trembling hands planted firmly on his -bare, tan, strong- shoulders as he held it steady.

"Lookin' good, Y/N," He looked up at you with a proud grin before glancing back down at your stance. "Just bend your knees a little more and you'll be perfect."

His praise, along with his calloused palms carefully adjusting your legs made your face feel hot and you shifted on the board to correct your balance, slowly raising your arms until you were standing, albeit a little wobbly, mostly on your own.

"Holy shit!" You yelled, the smile on your face growing more ecstatic at the encouraging cheers of your friends as they watched from the beach twenty feet away. "I'm doing it! I'm actually doing it!"

"Almost," JJ gave you another one of his killer smiles, the ones that you quickly found out made breathing normally quite the challenge, then let go of your knees to give the board a solid push forward. "Now you are!"

Frantically, you recalled everything he taught you that afternoon and managed to make it halfway to shore before you lost your balance and fell into the surf with a giddy laugh. "Guess I need a little more practice," You giggled as he splashed his way over and offered you a hand, a teasing glint in his blue eyes.

"Just a little?"

You flicked some water at him for that and your laugh grew when he wrapped you up in his arms and spun you around before flinging you both into the waves. The others immediately ran to join you and an all out war broke out, everyone splashing each other with no holds barred.

When he casually suggested giving you another lesson the next day as you all laid on the sand to catch your breath, you were unable to say no and the soft, dimpled smile on his face made your heart skip a beat in a way you'd never felt before. For the first time, you told the warning bells in your head to just shut the fuck up and allowed yourself to think about the future, to dream about what you could become and where you could be in two, five, even ten years. You let yourself have hope.

The next morning, you put on your favorite bikini -the green high waisted one that made your butt look good- and caught a ride with Daisy and Kelce to the beach, ignoring the teasing looks and jabs your sister sent your way and the sly smirk on her boyfriend's face.

"Hey, Juliet, looks like your Romeo's already waiting for you."

You rolled your eyes and hopped out of Kelce's Range Rover, flipping them both the bird behind your back without a second glance. As they drove away, their laughter followed you to where JJ was indeed waiting by the walkway to the shore, surfboard under his arm, and his face broke out into a wide grin when he laid eyes on you, one that you couldn't help returning.

"Sorry I'm late, my sister was being a bitch."

He laughed at that and reached out to take your hand, sending warm tingles through your whole body. "I was kinda worried you forgot about me, Y/N."

In a sudden burst of courage you didn't know you had, you laced your fingers with his and started pulling him toward the water as you sent him a wink over your shoulder. "I would never."

You started your lesson on the sand, reviewing how to stand up and balance on the board, before moving to the ocean. You catch your first waves on your stomach to get used to the movement and when you get comfortable with that you move to your knees and then your feet; each time JJ was there to catch you when you inevitably bit it, hugging you close to his bare chest and speaking enthusiastic words of encouragement in your ear, and with every passing try you became more and more confident until you finally nailed a small wave from beginning to end without falling on your ass.

"I did it!" In a flash, you jumped off the board and into his arms, your mouth curving into a joyful grin when he spun you in circles like yesterday with your own arms locked tight around his neck.

"Hell yeah you did!" The proud smile on his face made your stomach do a little flip and so did the way he held you close, his hands hooked under your thighs. "You're gonna be a pro in no time."

"Well," You said, twirling your fingers in the fine blond hair at his nape and hoping you didn't just imagine the shiver that ran down his spine. "I do have a great teacher."

His pretty blue eyes locked onto yours and you couldn't look away even if you wanted to (which you absolutely didn't). You'd been reading about moments like that ever since you were a kid, alone in your room with nothing better to do than drown yourself in overly sappy fanfiction until 2 AM, so you knew all about the magnetism, the butterflies, the invisible string tying two lovers together by fate, but it was just a fantasy, a pipe dream, something to yearn for when the loneliness became too much. Never in a million years did you imagine you would ever feel like that.

And yet you did. You felt it in your whole body, coursing through your veins like liquid fire, and when JJ started to lean in, you didn't hesitate to meet him halfway. It wasn't your first kiss -that happened two years ago when you were still living in Rhode Island, during a rare party you actually got invited to and with a pretty girl in your class- but it was the first that set every single one of your nerves alight. He held you tighter against him as your hands moved to cup his face, letting him deepen the kiss with a tilt of his head and the soft swipe of his tongue against your lips. You never thought you'd find yourself in the middle of a make out session in broad daylight and in full view of everyone on the beach but there you were, not giving a single shit about who was watching. All you cared about was memorizing every detail about the way he kissed you, the feel of his mouth on yours and the heat of his palms against your thighs, the rough touch of drying saltwater on his skin under your thumbs and that little noise he made low in his throat when you wrapped your legs tighter around his waist. You could've kissed him for hours (holy shit did you want to do that) and never run out of new idiosyncrasies to notice.

You pulled back some glorious time later with a breathless smile and swollen lips, heart racing against your ribcage and forehead pressed to JJ's as he smiled back, an endearing pink flushed across his face.

"I've wanted to do that for a while." His quiet admission made the butterflies in your stomach go haywire and you leaned down to kiss him once again, no longer able to deny yourself the happiness you longed for for years now that you'd had a taste; he returned the kiss and you laughed against his mouth as he spun you around before gently setting you on your feet in the surf, his forgotten board -thankfully still tethered to your ankle- bumping into your legs with every wave.

"Me, too."

"Good." He shot you a smile that make you weak in the knees and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind your ear, then it was his turn to lean down to press his lips to yours.

After that day, life was practically a dream. You had the greatest friends you could've asked for, your family was the happiest you'd ever seen them, and you had a boyfriend. A loyal, affectionate, chaotic boyfriend who somehow managed to keep you on your toes while being your guiding light all at once and you wondered how you got so lucky that a boy as wonderful as JJ wanted little old you, with all of your insecurities and shattered edges and tendencies to push people away when they got too close.

You told him that one day as you laid together on your bed, sharing lazy kisses in the warm late-summer sun streaming in through your window while Fleetwood Mac played quietly from your phone resting on the nightstand. Fall was in the air and with it came cool breezes and that nagging fear in the back of your mind that screamed none of it would last. It was the first time you cried in front of him -in front of anyone other than your sister- and he held you tight to his chest, hand running soothingly over your back as you let everything out in one massive, embarrassing flood of years of pent-up emotions.

Another thing your boyfriend was good at, you found out, was comfort. He didn't say anything as he hugged you close but he didn't need to, the fact that he was simply there and listening was all you needed from him. You spent your whole life living in the shadows until then, when he made you feel seen, heard, and important, validated, all without saying a single word and after your tears had run dry and you pulled your face away from his damp shirt, you killed that urge to flee and buried it so deep you hoped you'd never find it again.

That day, you poured out your heart for the first time to a person you knew in your very bones you could trust and received nothing but unconditional acceptance in return. JJ took you as you were, flaws and metaphorical scars, dark secrets and past mistakes, and you weren't quite fifteen yet but you wondered if that spark you felt in your blood when he kissed you was love.

It was less than a week later when he showed up at your door late at night, bruised and bloody, and the thrill of a clandestine meeting in your room faded the second you saw the small, pained smile he sent your way. Daisy, swapping roles with you for once, distracted your parents so you could sneak him upstairs like she did with Kelce practically every week and only when you were both safely hidden away in your room did you speak, keeping your voice as soft as your touch against his bruised cheek. "What happened?"

You cried in front of him for the second time when he finally answered, after you cleaned him up with the first aid kit your mom always kept under your bathroom sink and helped him change into some of your dad's old clothes your sister swiped from the laundry room ("if you need anything, just text me, 'k?" she said and you sent her a grateful smile before she left, quietly shutting the door behind her.). JJ was your echo as he spilled all his secrets, too, bringing his demons out of the deep blue darkness and into your golden daylight where they slowly burned to ash, little by little. You held him close, your legs tangled together and his head pillowed on your chest, and you ran your fingers through his hair over and over until he talked himself hoarse and his hands loosened their white-knuckled grip on your sweatshirt.

Words had never been your strong suit so you let your actions speak for you and gently wiped the tears from his cheeks with your thumbs, leaning down to press your lips to his forehead, then his closed eyelids, his nose, all over his face until there was no inch you hadn't kissed other than his mouth; you saved that for last, letting each delicate touch linger against his slightly chapped lips like bright beacons of light guiding him through a storm in hopes that he'll make it to shore.

"You'll always be safe with me."

You whispered it into his hair sometime later, through swollen lips that hurt in the best possible way and you felt his slow smile into the curve of your neck, his reply coming in the form of a soft and feather-light kiss against your heated skin. You fell asleep that night with your boyfriend wrapped up in your arms, safe and warm and far away from the father who hurt him in more ways than one.

Your parents, on the other hand, loved JJ so much to the point you thought they'd adopt him if they could, especially your dad. They were constantly inviting him over for dinner, fishing trips, movie nights: you name it, your parents wanted him there, and you were pretty sure he was spending even more time at your place than at John B's. He won the 'favorite boyfriend' category by default because Kelce barely made the 'tolerated' list, much to your and Daisy's amusement.

Despite that fact though, you still snuck JJ out your window that morning to meet him at the front door just as your mother was leaving for her shift at the hospital. Rebekah greeted him with her customary hug before touching his bruised cheek with a gentle hand and concern in her eyes.

"What happened, hon?"

He shrugged, expertly bullshitting some excuse about defending your honor when one of Kelce's friends started going off about how good your ass looked and it instantly appeased your dad, who reached over to clap your boyfriend on the shoulder.

"Good job, kid." Bill said with a pleased grin, then kissed his wife goodbye and headed back down the hall toward the living room. "Hear that, Daisy? Your boy needs to get better friends!"

"Dad!"

"Even better, just get a better boy in general!"

As your father and sister squabbled, your mother pulled you both into another fierce hug and whispered "You always have a place here," before she headed out the door; JJ looked a bit stunned at Rebekah's words and you reached over to give his hand a gentle squeeze, smiling softly when he slowly did it back.

Your parents weren't stupid. They knew your boyfriend didn't come from the best of homes but they loved him anyway, showering him in ordinary, everyday affection they knew he rarely got. You noticed it more and more as the months passed: your dad always asking him for help fixing Daisy's clunker of a car when it broke down and both would come inside with grease-stained hands and easy smiles, your mom keeping all the first aid kits fully stocked and hugging him a little tighter when he looked a little worse for wear, both of them making sure he was fed and safe and cared for like he deserved. Even Daisy had a penchant for leaving snacks on your bed like some sort of food fairy and offering to give rides to the beach or the Chateau, especially after she finally dumped Kelce and had, as she said, 'nothing better to do.'

And you? You fell harder each passing day, each moment you spent with him, each kiss that made your veins hum with white hot lightning. Of course, your friends teased you mercilessly but neither of you really minded, knowing that each joke was born pure joy at seeing you both together and happy (though you never missed an opportunity to be extra affectionate in front of everyone as revenge.). JJ continued to teach you how to surf until you could hold your own with the rest of the pogues and when you turned fifteen in late spring, they gave you the surprise of your life in the form of your very own board.

You stared in shock at the sea foam green board propped in the sand beside your friends,' gaping like a fish out of water as they all screamed "happy birthday, Y/N!" at the top of their lungs.

"You...you guys -are you for real?" You reached out to run your fingers over the smooth epoxy surface, the mounting pressure behind your eyes becoming harder and harder to ignore when you caught sight of your friends' identical bright grins. What did you do to deserve them?

"We figured it was time you had your own board instead of that shitty hand me down," John B said, ruffling your hair with brotherly affection that made your heart feel full. Pope nodded enthusiastically and added, "You're gonna improve so much with this -not that you weren't already, I mean!"

"She's already good 'cause she has me for a teacher," JJ said with an overexaggerated wink as he pulled you closer and planted a kiss on your cheek. "Taught her everything she knows."

"Oh, please, you just wanted to mack-"

"Taught her how to make out-"

"What they all mean to say, Y/N," Kiara interrupted, sending the boys a pointed look, then gave your shoulder a quick squeeze, "is that we love you. That word won't kill you guys to say, you know."

"I-I love you guys, too. All of you." You admitted thickly, hastily wiping away the tears you just realized were slipping down your face. It didn't scare you to say it. You didn't feel the urge to run or pretend you didn't care for them as much as they cared for you 'cause you loved your friends like you loved your sister, your parents, and the thought filled you with joy instead of terror. "I don't know how to thank you."

You suddenly found yourself in the middle of a colossal group hug, laughing and crying at the same time as four pairs of arms all tried to wrap around you at once. "How about you start by getting out there and showing us what you're made of?" John B said with a nod toward the ocean and you wiggled your way out of the tangle of limbs, darting forward to pull your new board from the sand.

"Come on, slowpokes," You called over your shoulder as you jogged toward the water, "You aren't gonna let the newbie have all the fun, right?"

The water was a bit too chilly for surfing but the five of you dove in anyway and you grinned so hard you were sure your face would split in two when you nailed your first wave to the rest of the pogues' cheers. You all surfed until the cold was too much to bear before packing up and heading back to your house, where you spent the rest of your birthday surrounded by all of the people you'd ever loved, making s'mores around the campfire in your backyard.

"I meant what I said earlier." You blurted when JJ was the only one around to hear it, the others already headed inside for the night. The two of you laid together on a blanket beside the dying fire as you stared up at the stars and when you spoke, he tore his gaze from the sky to focus on you, one eyebrow raised in the cutest confused expression you'd ever seen.

"Meant what?"

Maybe it was the look in those pretty blue eyes of his or the feel of his fingers running through your hair or your brain remembering every single moment you'd ever shared with him all at once but something screamed at you to say those words, the ones you'd been thinking about saying to his face for a long time. Though you'd already said them earlier, this time was different -so, so different- and you took a deep breath, fighting away the nerves that made your hand tremble as you cupped his face and ran your thumb over his cheekbone.

"I love you."

The funny thing about words: once they're out in the air, there's no taking them back. These words, though? You never wanted to take them back. Ever.

"I love you, too."

It wasn't like the movies. Fireworks didn't go off, the world didn't stop spinning on its axis, nothing magically clicked into place, but you did feel the most wonderful warmth you could ever imagine slowly sinking into your bones when he said it back, the soft smile on his flushed face snatching the very breath from your lungs. He loved you. You loved him. It was simple, uncomplicated, effortless and you smiled into his kiss with the moon and stars as your witnesses.

Summer came again, setting you and Kiara free from the hell known as the kook academy and its rich kid hierarchy and the two of you ran wild -from sunrise to sunset- with your boys at your sides, like birds escaping their cages or horses let loose in the grasslands, untamed and thirsty for adventure. It had only just begun and yet you already knew it was the best summer of your life.

Your dad, a man able to make friends with a rock, struck up a camaraderie with Sarah's father of all people during a deep sea fishing trip and snagged five invitations to some fancy party called Midsummers.

Kiara nearly had a coronary when you shared the news, her face lighting up like a kid on Christmas morning. "Oh, thank God!" She breathed, sitting up on her towel and pushing her sunglasses up onto her forehead. "Maybe I'll actually have a good time for once."

The two of you were relaxing on the beach, taking a break while the boys surfed and you turned away from admiring your boyfriend's bare back to look her in the eye. "So what you're saying is-"

"-it fucking sucks. Just..." She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "a bunch of bourgeoise pigs throwing a party to stroke their overinflated egos."

You groaned and flopped back onto your towel, throwing your arm over your eyes. "Great, a night of rich people being rich people."

Kiara laughed and reached over to grab a bottle of water from the cooler. "You have no idea."

Despite her misgivings, the party wasn't as bad as you thought it would be. Sure, the general stench of opulence and wasted money -so much wasted money- was overbearing and quite frankly disgusting but you did your best to ignore it, focusing instead on having a great time with two of your best friends, making fun of the kooks and sneaking liquor when the adults weren't looking. One of those friends happened to be your boyfriend and you found it very, very hard to keep your eyes off him in that suit of his, with his hair slicked back in just the right way that made your knees weak; JJ couldn't stop staring at you either and you'd lost count of how many times you glanced over to find him already looking at you, something you'd never seen before behind his gaze. You wanted -needed- to find out what it was and you were hoping you would tonight, even if you didn't exactly know how.

"Why don't you two take a picture? It'll last longer." Kiara said sarcastically and you flicked your eyes down to your lap, smoothing a non-existent wrinkle in your deep green dress to hide your embarrassment. What was it about that damn suit that made you feel so flustered?

"You know me, Kie," JJ replied, grabbing your hand and tugging you toward the dance floor. "I like to live in the moment." He grinned down at you and you couldn't help smiling back, giggling as he twirled you under his arm before pulling you close, resting his other hand low on your back.

"I didn't know you were such a good dancer," You said, letting him lead you in a simple waltz across the cool grass.

"Well, I'm not but I might've spent the last week practicing with your sister while Kie distracted you." He admitted casually, shooting a thumbs up over your shoulder and you turned to find Daisy grinning in your direction as she swayed with some guy (Daniel, you thought, or maybe Deke? You weren't sure.) you'd seen hanging around the pool a few times. 'You're welcome,' She mouthed before spinning under her partner's arm, her wine-colored dress fanning out around her legs and you smiled wider, twirling back into your boyfriend's embrace and surging up onto your tiptoes to press your lips to his.

He dipped you low as he returned your kiss, grinning against your mouth when you flung your arms around his neck in surprise, your fingers holding tight to the collar of his suit jacket. "You did all that for me?" You asked once your feet were firmly back on the ground and your heart skipped a beat as his hands brushed the skin exposed by the low-cut back of your dress.

"Anything for you, Y/N."

Later, after dancing until your shoes started to dig uncomfortably into your toes, the two of you snuck down to the beach, your heels in your hands and two stolen drinks in JJ's. You felt a bit guilty ditching Kiara but from the wink she sent your way as you passed by, you were pretty sure she didn't really mind. The sand was cool on your legs through the thin layers of your skirt and yet you felt nothing but warm, both from his arm around your shoulders and the alcohol burning down your throat.

"Shit," You coughed, regretting following your boyfriend's example by knocking the whole thing back at once and playfully jabbing your elbow in his side when he outright laughed at your struggle. "I'm not used to drinking straight...whatever this is."

"It's bourbon, babe." He took the glass from your hand and set it aside before tucking you closer against him to ward off the slight chill of the mellow ocean breeze. "Don't worry, I still love you even if you can't take shots."

"Ha ha. Love you, too, you jerk." You rested your head on his shoulder after they stopped shaking with laughter, perfectly happy to sit in silence together and watch the waves crash against the shore. A pleasant tingle flooded through your body after the bourbon finally stopped burning and you realized you liked the feeling, even if it paled in comparison to the high you reached when he kissed you, when he ran his hand through your hair, when he made it crystal clear you were loved.

"Hey, Y/N?"

JJ's voice pulled you out of your thoughts and you shifted your head to look up at him, hooking one of your ankles around his. "Yeah?"

"Gimme your hand."

You obliged, your confusion slowly melting away into something more closely resembling pure, unadulterated affection as he tied a bracelet around your wrist. And not just any bracelet, you noticed when you brought it closer to your face to examine it in the dim, distant light of the party: this one was obviously, beautifully handmade, woven with threads in shades of green, blue, and tan and tied off with two green beads on each end. You ran your thumb over a spot where the intricate motif was just a little messed up and smiled when JJ looked embarrassed, the tips of his ears turning red.

"Yeah, sorry about that, I was in a hurry and fucked up the pattern," He confessed sheepishly, spinning a similar bracelet around his own wrist. "I was gonna give it to you on your birthday but I kind of underestimated how long it took to make-"

"It's perfect." You interrupted, tackling him onto the sand with your arms around his neck as you pressed a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth, leaving a bright red lipstick mark behind. "I love it. I love you."

The smile he sent you was one of unabashed relief and he slid his fingers into your hair to pull you down for another kiss. "I love you, too."

For awhile after that, you let your lips do the talking in a different way and you made out on the beach for -surprisingly- only the second time until you rolled onto your back and accidentally got a little sand in your underwear (he laughed at that but you immediately got your revenge by stuffing a handful down the front of his shirt). You snuck back to the party hand in hand to drop off the forgotten glasses and wave a quick goodbye to Kiara, who just smirked at your smudged lipstick and the golden crown of leaves sitting crooked on your head, before walking toward your house a mile down the road. Well, JJ walked, you hitched a ride on his back when he wouldn't take no for an answer.

"Babe, your feet hurt and you have sand in your ass. No way in hell I'm letting you walk."

You just smiled against his shoulder and let him carry you the rest of the way to your house and then even up the stairs to your room as you fired off a text to Daisy letting her know where you disappeared to. She sent 'check your dresser, thank me later' with a winking emoji back and you felt your face get hot when you caught sight of the small box tucked into the corner of the drawer, quickly placing the phone facedown on your bedside table before tossing your shoes onto the floor by your closet and carefully pulling the crown from your messy hair.

"Thanks for the ride, my feet and ass are in your debt."

"Let's make out again and I'll consider that debt paid."

You laughed but gave in 'cause hell, you really wanted to keep making out, too. You pushed JJ backwards until his knees hit your bed and you ended up on his lap, your hands pushing the suit jacket off his shoulders as you leaned down to kiss him. He slid the pins from your hair one by one until it fell around your face and he tangled his fingers in it, pulling your head back so he could trail his lips down the sensitive skin of your neck and you gasped, pausing in the middle of trying to undo the bowtie around his neck.

Something shifted in the air then and you knew that once you took that next step, there'd be no turning back but you were ready to meet it head on as you finished with his tie and tossed it behind you, then started on the buttons of his shirt. That look from earlier was in his eyes again and you nodded, smiling in anticipation when you finally understood what it meant and he languidly slipped one of the straps of your dress off your shoulder.

You bared your body like you bared your soul and soon there was no part of you that he didn't know. You learned every part of him, too and together you brought each other to a high you'd never felt before. It wasn't perfect, of course, but it was perfect to you: every awkward, beautiful touch, when you breathed his name like that for the first time, the way your hands clutched his hair like a lifeline. You were burning up from the inside out, every single nerve on fire and blazing brilliantly under your heated skin and you'd never felt more alive when you came undone in his arms.

In the afterglow, you laid wrapped up together like the woven bracelets you both wore, JJ's fingers steadily tracing the curve of your bare hip as yours soothed the darkening red mark you'd left behind on his neck. The fairy lights strung above your bed cast soft, welcoming shadows all around, highlighting that wonderful look in his eyes, open and awed and oh so loving and you knew your gaze held the same.

"I'm, I-" He started, then shook his head and leaned down to place a lingering kiss on your cheek. "I just -shit."

"Whoa, you're speechless," You teased, sweeping a wayward strand of sweaty blond hair away from his forehead. "Guess I really blew your mind, huh?"

"Fucking fried it." He shook his head again with the dopiest, dreamiest smile you'd ever seen and you giggled as he pulled you closer, calloused palm flat against the small of your back. "I'm so fucking in love with you. Straight up head over heels, babe."

You smiled even wider at his words and how they ignited that flame burning inside you once again. "Good thing I'm fucking head over heels, hopelessly in love with you, too." You replied and pushed him back onto the bed, swinging a leg over his thighs so you were the one on top this time. "And I'm gonna blow your damn mind again."

You weren't sure what you expected life to be like after you had sex for the first time. You'd always heard it was this momentous occasion, that you'd suddenly feel like a real woman or whatever stupid label society came up with to further control girls and their sexuality but honestly, you still felt like the same person. All those rom-coms and their jokes about having that look after getting laid were total and complete bullshit, you realized; to you, sex was just a different, more intimate way to show your love and you just happened to like showing it often (and luckily JJ did, too). You flaunted it in other ways, too, his bandanas tied in your hair and shirts in your closet, your necklaces resting against his collarbone and bracelets you learned to make around his wrists, but there was nothing like the marks you left on each other's skin -necks, inner arms, hipbones- when you were alone together in the dark.

Life went on. Months flew by and things were nearly perfect for you: great friends, good grades, a wonderful relationship with your loving boyfriend. The girl of your past, the one who kept to herself and avoided anything that had to do with being vulnerable like the plague was dead and gone and in her place was the person you always wanted to be. You were happy -ridiculously, deliriously happy- sixteen and so in love with the life you built that you'd almost forgotten about your mom's tendency to relocate your family every few years; that nagging thought was still in the back of your mind but you refused to let it control your life with fear of losing everything -everyone- you'd come to love.

But you knew how the saying went: the bigger you are, the harder you fall.

The higher you climb on an unstable mountain, the more it hurts when it inevitably crumbles beneath you.

Your mountain didn't just crumble: it was violently torn apart, ripped into pieces by a devastating earthquake, a destructive landslide caused by the one person who promised she wouldn't hurt you anymore but the catalyst that unintentionally set it in motion came from someone you never expected: your sister.

Daisy graduated from the kook academy and got accepted into her dream school, UCLA, alongside her boyfriend Daniel (see, you knew his name wasn't Deke) but you didn't think too much of it. After all, you knew that day would come eventually, the day your big sister would head off to college and leave you, her shadow, behind but the thought didn't fill you with dread like it used to. You had friends, a found family to soothe the inescapable sting of the Daisy-shaped hole in your heart and keep your spirits high when she hopped on that plane to California in the fall.

You still had the summer though and you made it count, days spent with your friends and nights spent with your sister, doing all the things you used to do together when you were little; watching movies, playing games, making a total mess in the kitchen when you baked batches and batches of cookies that had both your boyfriend and hers always hanging around like dogs begging for scraps. You and Daisy started putting them to work the second they ate two dozen snickerdoodles by themselves (Daniel was an excellent cook while JJ was a total disaster) and those nights always ended with the four of you squished together on the couch, wrapped in blankets and cookies and warmth while a scary movie played on in the background.

The day before Daisy left for LA, you met your parents and sister at The Wreck for what you thought would be your last family dinner until Thanksgiving break but it turned out you were the only one who believed that. You should've known something was wrong the second your dad didn't even make a joke about your friends dropping you off in John B's rust bucket of a van or when JJ pulled you back in for a kiss that was just a little bit too risque for the public eye (You'd laughed when John B and Pope both pretended to gag and just kissed him harder, not giving a single shit about who saw, even your parents.). You should've known when your mother's smile was a little strained or when your sister wouldn't meet your eyes. You should've known but you stupidly didn't see the signs and that made Rebekah's words so much harder to swallow.

"We're moving to California."

You dropped the loaded nacho in your hand back onto your plate as you stared at her, gaping like a fish. "E-Excuse me but what the actual fuck?"

"Language, Y/N."

"I don't give a shit about my language, Mom, I give a shit about the fact that you broke your promise!" You hissed, roughly pushing your plate away and almost knocking your glass of water over.

"Sweetheart-"

"You promised."

Your mother winced at the tightness of your voice and how you snatched your clenched fist out from under her hand. "I know, dear, but I couldn't pass on this offer and I know how much you're going to miss your sister-"

"Yeah, I'll miss Daisy but I don't want to move across the country just to be near her! God, let her be her own person for once!"

"Y/N-"

"And what about me, huh? I'm happy here! This is my home! I have friends, a boyfriend -I'm not leaving!"

"Honey, I understand you're upset-"

"Do you?" You interrupted your dad with a bitter laugh, fighting the tears you felt pricking at your eyes. "Do you understand what you're forcing me to lose?"

Bill looked away as Kiara arrived with your food and set the plates down in awkward silence. You gave her a tight smile when she quickly patted your back and then returned to the kitchen, sending you a concerned glance over her shoulder before she disappeared through the double doors and you turned to face Daisy.

"Day, did you know?" Your sister avoiding your sudden, sharp gaze was all the answer you needed and your heart dropped like an anchor, weighing heavy on your stomach. You felt sick. You felt furious. But most of all, you felt betrayed.

Suddenly, the sight of your favorite meal in front of you wasn't so appetizing anymore and you abruptly stood, your chair scraping roughly against the floor. Heads turned to look in your direction but you ignored their curious stares as you snarled with all the venom you could muster across the table at your mother, "I knew I never should've trusted a word you said."

You turned away from her hurt expression -the sheer audacity she had, acting like she was the one whose heart was shattering- and ran out the front door of The Wreck before anyone could stop you, pretending not to hear their voices calling after your retreating back. You didn't know where your feet were taking you but you really didn't care, just as long as it was far, far away from your family.

You ran until your aching legs forced you to stop and you doubled over, hands on your thighs as you tried to catch your breath and it wasn't until you saw the water dripping onto the sidewalk beneath you did you realize you were crying. Footsteps slowed to a stop beside you and your braced yourself to hear Daisy's apology or worse, your mother's, but got Kiara's winded voice instead.

"Did you ever think about doing cross country? 'Cause holy shit," She gasped with her hands on her hips. "You can run."

Despite feeling like your whole fucking world was falling apart around you, you still managed a snort of laughter at your friend's remark and eagerly returned her embrace when she wrapped her arms around your shoulders, burying your face against her neck. She held you as you cried, running a soothing hand up and down your back until the rest of your friends pulled up in the Volkswagen and you found yourself crying on a different shoulder, one you knew better than your own.

The white hot fury had left your body and now all you felt was numb. Numb and empty and hollow as you quietly explained everything on the ride back to the Chateau, avoiding your friends' sympathetic stares by playing with a loose thread at the bottom of JJ's shirt. He ran a hand through your hair while you leaned against him and you let his touch slowly bleed life back into your heart.

"You're not leaving, okay? My parents love you so you can stay with me." Kiara declared later as you all lounged around the bonfire, passing a joint back and forth.

"Or me. My dad would probably let you stay if you helped out around the shop," Pope piped up, handing it over to you without taking a drag as John B added, "Me, too. We have an extra room."

"Tijuana's always nice, too, babe." JJ suggested, grabbing your hand holding the joint and bringing it to his mouth so he could take a hit. "Just a thought."

You smiled softly and took your own hit, slowly blowing smoke into the air. "You guys are the best. I doubt my parents'll change their minds...but I guess it wouldn't hurt to try." It would definitely hurt if your desperate bid to stay didn't work but you tried not to think about that and focused instead on having a good time with your friends, forgetting all about your phone that was switched to silent and burning a hole in your purse.

Later, after the others headed inside for the night and it was just you and JJ left, you were reminded of your fifteenth birthday. You'd laid like you were now, on a blanket under the stars beside a dying fire and you told him you loved him for the first time and as much as it tore you apart to know it might all come to an end, you didn't regret it. You didn't regret befriending Kiara back in eighth grade or letting the pogues become so important to you or falling so hard for the boy holding you in his arms. And right then, all you wanted to do was hold onto that feeling by showing him your love and getting loved in return.

You propped yourself up on your elbow and leaned down to kiss him, your other hand slipping under his shirt in the flickering glow of the flames and you smiled against his lips when he immediately rolled onto his back so you were on top, his hand doing some exploring of its own under your sundress.

"I don't want to feel anything but you tonight." You answered the question in his eyes when you broke apart some time later, both breathing heavily with your skirt hitched up over your thighs and his shirt tossed somewhere on the grass behind you. "Please."

"Here?"

You'd never fucked outside before but you figured now would be the perfect time to try and to be honest, you were too impatient to make it to a bed so you nodded, slowly rolling your hips against his. "Right here."

You lost yourself in the ardent touch of his calloused hands with the haze of smoke hanging in the cool night air, letting everything slip away until he was the only thing that remained. He was all you needed, tan skin slick with sweat and mouth searing hot, your nails trailing scratches down his back while your lips left smudged marks of blood red on his face. He took you higher and higher, doing exactly what you asked him to, over and over until you nearly forgot your own name and when you finally came back down, he held you close until your limbs stopped shaking and your heart slowed back to its normal rhythm.

"I don't want to lose you." You admitted quietly into the dark, wiping at a stubborn lipstick stain on the corner of his mouth and your thumb caught on his lip when JJ shook his head, then leaned down to drop a kiss at your hairline.

"You won't."

You wanted to believe him so badly it hurt but you didn't know if you could so instead you threaded your fingers through his hair and pulled him down to press your mouth to his, his cheek, his jawline, everywhere you could reach, drowning yourself in the right now in hopes that the future would never come.

"I love you, Y/N. Don't you dare forget it." He whispered it against the shell of your ear before trailing his lips down your neck and the light scrape of his teeth on your skin turned your voice into a breathless sigh as you repeated his words into the air, your back arching from the blanket when he hit a particularly sensitive spot and sent electricity racing through your veins. You may have spoken your love softly but you showed it fiercely, each touch a little harder than the last, each kiss a little rougher and together you burned through the dark like a funeral pyre.

Hope was a dangerous thing to feel; it was fragile and delicate, hard to keep but oh so easy to lose for someone like you, a girl who spent her whole life searching for a home, only to have it ripped away when she finally found it. It didn't matter what you said or how much you cried or even when Kiara and her parents advocated on your behalf, your time on the island was up and just like that, whatever hope you had left disappeared into thin air and left you wondering if you'd ever get it back again.

tagging some mutuals who might be interested: @sinkbeneathwaves @jiaraendgame @sunnypogue @alexa-playafricabytoto @maybanks

#outer banks #obx fic #jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #obx imagine #outer banks imagine #obx netflix #jj x reader #obx x reader #jj imagine

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binniedeactivated · 4 years

Text

saint.|| soobin (2.3)🌪

🖤┊𝔰𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔱 . ೄྀ࿐ 𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: 𝖘𝖔𝖔𝖇𝖎𝖓 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: 𝖘𝖒𝖚𝖙/𝖆𝖚 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙; 2803

“some funny shit is going on and I don’t like it”. michael mentions to the guys in the bathroom. they’d all been in there from skipping their last class of the day.

“what do you mean?”. kevin asks, putting a lighter to his cigarette.

“soobin and that girl”. michael continued.

“what about them?”. beomgyu continued drawing on the bathroom wall. he thought his picture was coming out great.

“he set this whole shit up with mia and he kind of dissed us for that bitch. I think he’s lowkey plotting”. michael says in the sea of scoffs from the other guys.

“now why the fuck would he do that?”. seongjun questions, nudging kevin to give him the pack of cigarettes.

“think about it. he’s not even responding to group messages anymore. he started this shit and had us thinking this was a group effort and he left. all he cares about is that stupid ass girl”.michael trails off getting kind of annoyed.

“she has to be giving him the best pussy in the world”. kevin snarls blowing a thick cloud of white smoke form his lips.

“who that girl? hell no. she’s a saint. she’s not giving him shit”. beomgyu assures.

“then what the fuck is he so obsessed with her for?”. michael questions.

“we don’t fucking know michael. if he doesn’t want to be down with us then fuck it”. seongjun adds.

“just delete the last group chat and we can make a new one with just us”. kevin suggests.

michael nods while leaning on the bathroom sink. that was a good idea of course. but what he wondered most was why he was losing his best friend to some girl. especially since before she came along, they were practically doing everything together.

it was pretty fake if you asked him. It pissed him off. he needed to do something about it. and quick.

with the help of you, mia safely made her way into her parents car after school. you told them about the situation and they were sympathetic that they had no clue as to how their daughter been feeling. you were relieved that they would now be more aware of her just in case something else happened again.

and you hoped nothing else happened again because after all, you told soobin to tell his friends to quit it. it’s cruel with their doing to mia, and they’re just lucky mia was too afraid to call the cops on them. with exam season approaching though you knew your days were going to be long and difficult soon. you hated that exam season was in the same season as daylight savings time. which means that not only your days will be long but you will be more tired due the sky growing dark faster. you were already drowning in homework your teachers gave to prepare you, and the last thing you wanted was to be bothered.

you shut your locker door only to see olivia standing behind it with a pouty expression you jumped a bit. “what are you doing?”. you asked. she took her hand and patted your shoulder sympathetically. “I’m so sorry that happened to you”. she apologized.

what?

“what are you talking about?”.

“you didn’t know?”.

“know what?”.

“it’s about soobin”.

you crossed your arms, becoming more serious.

“what about soobin?”. she pouted her lips again.

“you must not have social media?”. you shook your head no. she flashes her phone in your face. you saw kevin’s name written in bold and a status underneath it,

“It’s crazy how dudes will turn fake over a bitch especially when he was bragging about mia howard sucking his dick not too long ago #CSB”.

at first read you blinked. “how are you so sure that’s about him?”. olivia smiles cheekily.

“everyone knows that CSB stands for choi soobin. and who else in kevin’s friend group associated themselves with mia as much as soobin?”.

you bit the inside of her cheek, thinking it about it. you didn’t want to get angry but you couldn’t help it. your cheek started to grow up hot and you hadn’t noticed a tear slipped from underneath your eye until olivia patted your shoulder again, pretending to feel sorry for you as she laughed and walked away.

you couldn’t believe soobin would do something like that. you two weren’t dating but, you two had something special.

or at least that’s just what you thought.

“hey mama you ready to go?”. soobin approached you from behind. you stood in place, unclenching and clenching your fists. you didn’t want to lash out on him. you didn’t know the truth. but god it broke your heart just thinking about it.

“mama?”. he says again, this time coming around and looking at you. he lifted your chin with his head. your eyes rimmed with tears. and his heart immediately broke.

“what’s the matter?”.

“is it true soobin?”.

soobin made a confused expression.

“is what true?”.

“check kevin’s status”. soobin gave a weird gaze before he pulled out his phone to see. he typed kevin’s username in the search bar before clicking on his profile and reading his posts. soobin became angry. fake? and why would he expose him on social media? and most importantly, how did you find out about it?

these questions floated around his head and you let them while you walked away. it was time for you to go home and study anyways. it was bad enough history is going to eat your report card you couldn’t afford for the other grades to do the same thing. soobin chases after you of course.

“you didn’t even give me a chance to answer”.

“I know the answer soobin. it’s yes. your answer is always yes”.

he caught up to you and stepped in front of you. you didn’t even want to look at him.

“can you please talk to me?”. he begged, and there he goes acting like a puppy again.

“what is there to talk about? why do I have to find out new things about you every single day?”.

“that happened before I realized how much I liked you. you have to understand that”.

you stared up at him and your tears wouldn’t stop flowing. he used this moment to start speaking again.

“know that the way I feel about you right now I’d never do any of that shit. I never want to see you like this. broken and crying over some dumb ass shit that I did when I thought I had real friends”.soobin admitted with hurt in his eyes. you sniffled, trying to calm your heart rate.

“did you make her do it or did she do it on her own?”.

“she did it on her own”.

“why were you bragging about it to kevin?”.

“because that was the kind of person I was and I am sorry. I really am and I’m trying to be a better person”.

you sniffled a little more and soobin wasted no time approaching you to swipe your tears away with his thumb. he cups your cheek,

“don’t cry mama okay?”.

you sighed. coming down from your emotions.

“it’s hard not to cry when you hear stuff like that about someone you have something with”. he pulled you into his chest.

“do you want to come over my house today?”.

“I have to study. and aren’t your parents home?”.

“you can study at my house. and yes they’re home”.

you pulled away and looked up at him.

“have they been beating you?”. soobin shrugs.

“yeah but it’s okay. they won’t hit me if you’re there”.

you knew this would be a stretch. but you never know something until you try it.

“do you want to ...come to my house?”. you offered, not sure how your parents would act. you weren’t expecting soobin’s eyes to light up the way they did. you rolled your eyes and laughed.

“yes I’d love that”.

it was weird with soobin following you to your doorstep. you were so used to him staying behind in his car and waving at you before he drove off. but to actually have following you into your house? wow.

“my house isn’t as big and luxurious as yours so I hope you’re not expecting anything extravagant”. you confirmed while unlocking the door with your key.

“I don’t care about what your house looks like”. soobin assures. the both of you walked into your open living room and kitchen. your mother happened to be in the kitchen cooking and you hadn’t even known she was going to be home as early as she was. she turned around to grab a seasoning behind her and locked eyes with not only you, but that tall boy behind you as well.

“hey baby. who do you have with you?”.

she didn’t even looked mad or anything. just concerned which surprised you. you sucked up your pride and brought soobin further into your home. you took a deep breath while your mother waited for you to speak.

“mom this is Choi Soobin”.

soobin reached over and grabbed your mother’s hand and kisses the back of it like he was her knight and shining armor or something. you wanted to laugh but you knew he was trying to be friendly, and your mother was way too flustered to stop him.

“like the choi’s? you’re their son?”.

“yes ma’am. it’s a pleasure to meet you”. soobin answers. your mother had a shocked expression on her face.

“and you miss lady? what is he doing here?”. she smirks. she expected that out of you. you know, the boyfriends. the dating. the teenage life. she just never wanted you to go too far and ruin your life.

“well he’s--”

“her boyfriend”. soobin finishes and smiles shortly after. your mother’s eyes expanded. not in a freaky like scary way but she was just so shocked to see her daughter growing up. but you were just as shocked as her with soobin’s answer you just couldn’t show it.

“boyfriend?”. she repeats.

“yes. I’m sorry that we’re meeting so late. coming from a religious family myself it’s hard to know how our parents are going to act with these types of things but--I hope you can accept our relationship. your daughter means a lot to me”.

“hm. any sex?”. she asks.

the both of you shake your heads no way too quick for your liking.

“mom--”.

“of course not”.

“he’s just here to study for our upcoming exams mom. nothing more than that. I promise”.

“hm, fine. I’ll be keeping an eye on you two alright? study hard and don’t fail those exams or there will be punishment for you”. you nod, grabbing soobin’s hand so that you could lead him to your room.

“that goes for you too choi soobin!”. your mother yelled after you making the both of you laugh. soobin loved your room. he loved how fluffy and pink your pillows and blankets were. he loved the knick knacks that you kept at your study desk. he loved the picture of your family that hung on the wall, just beside your crucifix. most importantly though he loved how innocent your room looked. like something from a movie. He hops on your bed and watches you set up your things at your study desk. he thought you were the cutest when you’re doing something you obviously loved. you kick your shoes off and glare at him.

“what are you doing? you’re not going to study?”.

“well I really don’t know how to study”.

“you’ve never studied before?”.

soobin shakes his head.

“my parents beat me for getting bad grades but they never encourage me to do good. they never show that they have any expectations from me. so I never learned”. you frowned.

“well, my mom is expecting you to do good now. so now you have a reason. she’ll really put you on punishment”. you laugh and soobin smiles. you bring your notebook and textbook over to where he was sitting.

“so usually the way I study is I go over what we went over in class. I’ll read the textbook and write down the important information--”.

“why do you have to read the whole thing?”.

“because when you are actively reading it you want to internalize the information, not memorize it. memorizing isn’t good for exams. you want to make sure you remember of course, but exams don’t ask for facts. they ask for the how, why, when, and put your perspective into question”.

“so i’d have to tell them what I think?”.

“yes exactly, based upon the information of course. but you have to know the information well”.

“can’t I just say one thing that has to do with the topic and babble off? I don’t know if i’ll be able to think too critically”.

“that’s why you internalize information. you’ll always have an opinion that way”.

soobin thinks for a moment. “huh?”.

“for instance. abraham lincoln. he issued the Emancipation Proclamation to free slaves on september 22nd, 1862. this is a fact. and it’s also something i memorized. now if I get a question on my exam that asks me something like, How did the Emancipation Proclamation open the door for black soldiers? you wouldn’t know how to answer it right? because you are focused on memorizing facts instead of internalizing the event and knowing the how he did this, why he did this, what did intend by doing this, and how did this affect others. do you know what I mean?”.

soobin stared with his jaw hanging low.

“how the hell are you so smart?”.

you couldn’t help but laugh. you hoped he was listening though.

“do you get it?”.

“yes ma’am. but I do have a question”.

“yes?”.

“is it bad to fall in love with your teacher?”. soobin smiles knowing your cheeks were on fire.

“stop it”. you point playfully in his face. he grabs you by your thighs and makes you straddle his lap,

“make me”, he smirks. you became nervous but of course you didn’t want him to know that.

“soobin--we have to study”. you pleaded, when really you didn’t want him to stop at all.

“have you ever had a hickey before?”. he whispers in the small space that separated his face from yours. you shook your head no. he brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“do you want one?”. your fingers toy with your pleated skirt and you hesitantly nod. “all you have to do is suck the skin really hard, and maybe bite it a little for a more dramatic mark. like this”--

he reaches his lips up pressing them onto your neck and you forgot how delicate his lips were. he tongue kisses it all over peppering it with his mouth. your arms wrapped around his neck for support. he chooses a spot and starts sucking it gradually. he sinks his teeth into your skin but it didn’t hurt like you thought it would. your eyes began to close as he picks another spot and does it all over again. his wet lips always uncaged your butterflies.

you whine as his hands travel down to your waist. he licks another spot before tongue kissing it. he sucks this one just as he did the others and you couldn’t believe the pleasure you were feeling from a kiss alone. “you like it?”. he whispers into the crook of your neck you mutter and yes, an invitation for him to keep going.

you bit your lips and threw your head back giving him more access to your skin, which he definitely took advantage of. by the time he was finished you attached your lips to his neck in exchange, trying to copy his movements. he was stunned. he was going to tell you that you didn’t have to return the favor but your lips made his adrenaline rush. you were feeling needy on his lap like this. you rock your hips gently against his growing boner and soobin hisses. you were biting and kissing all the right places and he couldn’t remember the last time he’s gotten a hickey.

“am i doing it okay?”. you ask innocently, “yes”. soobin answers prior to catching your lips and pushing his own against yours instead. without hesitation his tongue wandered your mouth and you rock down on him even harder, loving the friction you received. he laid back on your bed leaving you on top of him. his hands brushed against your thighs going higher and higher with each stroke.soon he was rubbing your ass while you were tongue kissing him back like the needy girl you were.

“dinner is ready guys! soobin you are more than welcome to join us!”. your mother yelled from downstairs. the both of you sat up quickly and it dawned on you that you were really just about to have sex.

#choi soobin #choi soobin au #txt #txt au #kpop #choi yeonjun #choi beomgyu

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hmsjiara · 4 years

Text

knight in shining armor (he wants to be my lover) jj +kie

requested by Amy247, RosieMae, and XiQ1108 on ao3.

summary: a 3 +1 for the three times jj protected kie, and the one time she protected him.

read it here on ao3.

trigger warnings: mentions and heavy descriptions of abuse, implied/referenced sexual assault and slight non-con. please don’t read if either of these topics would be upsetting to you or jeopardize your mental health.

•••

From the beginning of her friendship with the Pogues, Kiara had made it clear that it wasn’t their job to protect her.

Even then, she knew it was a slightly impossible situation, because they were three testosterone-filled teenage boys who all kind of had a thing for her at some point, and it was inevitable that one of them would try and play her knight in shining white armor.

She’d once thought that it would be John B, with his warm smile and big heart, or maybe Pope because he always seemed to care the most, but she had never expected JJ to be the person who got protective on her behalf.

Sure, he was reckless, and always itching for a fight, but she’d assumed that was just JJ being JJ— there was no higher purpose, no method behind his madness.

The first time Kiara gets a glimpse of the truth behind his sharp remarks and killer right-hook, they’re barely even friends. It was a few months after she’d first started hanging out with the Pogues, back when she still went to school with them, before JJ had accepted her into his inner circle.

They’re at a party at the Boneyard, and Kiara’s a few drinks in, so when a Kook with sand-colored hair and perfect teeth starts dancing with her, she doesn’t push him away.

Kiara loves to dance, loves moving her body to the rhythm of the music, how carefree and confident it makes her feel, so she doesn’t typically object when Tourons or even Kooks want to join her. She would prefer one of the Pogues, but John B is flirting with a girl by the fire, and Pope is attempting to flirt by talking about something disturbing that he probably shouldn’t be, and JJ is no where to be seen.

It’s fun for a while— the beat picks up, and the shots of tequila they did at the Chateau are definitely helping her to relax, to wrap an arm around the boy’s neck and start grinding on him.

But then the song ends, and Kiara slips from the group of dancers, shrugs the boy’s arm off of her shoulder and turns to find one of the Pogues, suggest that they head back to the Chateau for the evening.

His hand closes around her wrist, though, yanking her back towards him. “Wait,” he says, frowning at her, shaking his head like he’s confused. “You’re leaving? But I thought—“

Kiara smiles, pats the hand on her arm. “Listen, this was fun, but my friends are waiting. See you around, k?”

She turns to leave again, but he doesn’t let go of her wrist, and it burns when she tries to pull away from him.

“Hey, what—“

“Come back to my place,” he insists, and that’s when she notices how he’s slurring his words, his glazed eyes. “My parents are out of town, it’ll be fun, I promise—“

“That’s very nice of you,” she says, biting her lip, searching for any sign of the Pogues. Because this feels awfully like the kind of situation they talk about in health class, how you should never walk home from a party alone and always make sure someone is watching your drink. “But I have plans, so...”

The boy growls, actually growls at her, his hand going tighter on her wrist, and Kiara faintly registers the pain that flares there. “Listen, sweetheart, we had a fun time tonight, right? Don’t ruin it.”

“Then let go of me,” Kiara hisses, trying to seem confident and unbothered, but her wrist hurts and she’s pretty sure it’s going to bruise, and she hates herself for it but she’s starting to get scared. Because the boy’s eyes are gleaming with something dangerous, and he won’t let go of her, and she can’t see the Pogues anywhere.

“You’re the one who wanted to dance with me, grinding on me like a fucking slut—“

Kiara flinches, but before she can retaliate, JJ’s fist slams into his jaw.

It’s instinctual to scream, to clap her hands over her mouth as the boy’s hand vanishes from her wrist and he falls to the ground.

JJ’s standing next to her, his breathing harsh but even as he stares at the boy lying on the sand, clutching his hands to his face and groaning in pain. Kiara knows that JJ can land a punch, has seen him do it before, but this is different, because he’s never hit someone to defend her before.

“You okay, Kiara?” JJ asks her, his voice tight with rage, eyes not leaving the limp form of the boy at their feet.

He’s still howling, and there’s blood gushing from his nose, but Kiara doesn’t feel too bad considering her wrist is starting to throb.

It takes her a moment to answer, because she’s still not used to this version of JJ, the one who seems to care about what happens to her.

“Yeah,” she says, nodding at him, shaking off the fear that had left her stunned and shaky. “I’m good.”

The boy scrambles to his feet, teeth bared through the blood covering his face, and lunges at JJ, but he’s on the ground again before he can even get a hit in, JJ dodging his fist as his own collides with the guy’s stomach.

“What the hell?” He groans, glaring up at JJ, though Kiara notices he doesn’t try to rise again. “What was that for?”

Kiara scoffs, rolls her eyes, but JJ’s gaze hardens and he kneels down until he’s practically spitting in the guy’s face. “Apologize.”

The boy’s attention goes to Kiara, then back to JJ, and she detects a flicker of fear in his eyes, but he’s still not sounding very apologetic when he glares at JJ and says, “If she hadn’t been acting like a fucking tease—“

JJ moves faster than she can see, kicking the boy in the side. He grunts, moaning, and Kiara decides that it’s enough. The last thing they need is for someone to call the cops.

“JJ, it’s fine,” she says, taking a step closer, unsure whether or not she should touch him. She’s seen him get like this before, knows how volatile he can be, but she still doesn’t think he’d intentionally hurt her. “I’m okay, let’s just—“

“No, Kiara, it’s not fine!” He shouts, and she almost flinches at the rage lining every inch of his body, the dark, empty look in his eyes, but then she sees the emotion behind it, the raw pin that lingers in his gaze. “He almost—“

“I’m fine,” she says again, laying a hand on his arm, running her thumb over his skin until he relaxes under her grip. “He barely touched me, and you got there before anything else could happen. Let’s just go, I want to go back to the Chateau. John B and Pope are waiting.”

At the mention of their friends, some of the blind rage fades from JJ’s gaze, but not all of it. Kiara thinks she knows what this is about, because she’s not as oblivious as JJ thinks she is, and she understands there’s a reason his mother left before he turned ten, why his fists clenched that one time they walked by a girl with bruises on her face and her boyfriend’s arm around her waist. This kind of thing is personal for him, makes him remember a time when he couldn’t do anything to stop it. It’s why it’s so hard for him to walk away.

Kiara takes a step closer, until they’re practically chest to chest, places her hands on either side of his face, makes sure that he’s looking at her. “JJ, I’m fine. Let’s go.”

JJ shivers, stares at her with this unreadable expression. Kiara doesn’t think they’ve ever been this close before, and if they had, it was never like this. She tells herself it’s not the time to get flustered, silences the voice in the back of her head that tells her this would be the perfect opportunity to kiss someone. You know, if she wanted to. Which she doesn’t.

Not that JJ punching someone had been hot, or anything. Not at all.

Apparently, her proximity is enough to snap JJ out of his rage-induced stupor, and nods his head, sags slightly in Kiara’s grip.

JJ lands a last kick to the boy’s ribs, and Kiara makes a sound of protest, but he turns around a moment later, wraps an arm around her shoulders and leads her back to the van.

She doesn’t say thank you until later, when they’re standing in the kitchen at the Chateau, and JJ’s arm is in her lap and she’s tending to the cut on his hand.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” she says, quietly, but they both know that she doesn’t really mean it. “I could have handled it.”

“I know,” JJ answers, but his eyes are on her bruised wrist and there’s still that emptiness behind them, so she presses a kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you,” she whispers after, once there’s a bandage on her wrist and they’re sitting on the pullout couch with the other Pogues watching old NCIS reruns.

JJ doesn’t say anything, but she sees the smile he tries to hide, the slight redness to his cheeks.

He’s not a knight in shining armor, not by a long shot, but Kiara doesn’t care. She likes JJ exactly the way he is, likes that he shows all of himself and doesn’t apologize for it.

And if she has to stop herself from telling him that, from pressing her lips to his that night in the Boneyard... well, that’s her own business, isn’t it?

•••

That’s the first time JJ protects her, but it definitely isn’t the last.

He’s always there when a Kook insults her at a party, when the girls in her grade make a hate page for Kiara during her Sophomore year or laugh at her from behind their menus at the Wreck, purposefully drop silverware or napkins on the floor just to watch her pick them up.

Even though JJ isn’t someone who objects to violence, he’s just as quick with his mouth as he is with his fists. It normally only takes one sharp comment to make the girls stop laughing, the threat of a hit to silence the boys who whistle and howl at Kiara in her bikini as they drive past their yachts on the HMS Pogue.

JJ likes to have an opponent, she notices, someone to target his aggression at. It’s easy for him, when there’s something to fight.

It’s not like that the day Kiara falls off of her board at Rixon’s Cove, doesn’t surface when it appears, bobbing on the waves. Because JJ can’t fight the ocean, and there’s no one to blame but Kiara for her wipeout.

After, Pope tells her how JJ panicked, dove into the water without a second thought, yelled at John B to grab Kiara’s board where it was drifting on top of the waves.

He pulled her from the ocean, Kiara still choking on the water that had filled her lungs, head throbbing from where it had struck her board.

She doesn’t remember a lot from the next few minutes, has a vague memory of the warmth of JJ’s skin against her cheek and his arms around her, him whispering that it would be fine, that she was okay.

She’s more aware once they get into the van, her back against JJ’s chest as Pope examines the bump on her head, says she should get it checked out in the morning but that she’ll be fine as long as she rests and can keep some food and water down. Kiara insists that she’s okay, tells the Pogues not to call her parents, though she appreciates the hand JJ offers her once they pull into the driveway at the Chateau.

Because she’s still a little unsteady on her feet, has to clutch the doorway to the bathroom on her way to the shower, bites her lip to keep herself from groaning. But Kiara doesn’t want to worry the Pogues, doesn’t need them fussing over her.

They seem reluctant to leave her alone, asking if she’s okay through the door, what kind of pizza she wants, if her head still hurts. Kiara tries to reassure them that she’s fine, and John B and Pope seem to buy it, but JJ takes one look at her when she steps out of the bathroom wearing a pair of John B’s sweatpants and Pope’s t-shirt and pats the spot on the couch next to him, pulls her close until her head is practically in his lap.

This kind of casual, physical affection with JJ is new, something he never would have initiated a few months ago. He’s always been like that with the other Pogues— his hands in John B’s hair, an arm around Pope’s shoulder. With Kiara, it was more calculated: offering to help her out of the boat, his fingers brushing hers as he handed her a beer.

She knows it’s a marker of how comfortable he feels with someone, a representation of JJ being able to let his guard down. And it shouldn’t matter to her so much, shouldn’t leave her skin flushed and butterflies fluttering in her stomach, but it does.

So, yes, Kiara’s motives may not be entirely pure she whines about her head hurting and makes JJ get her pizza and Advil, insists he give her his sweatshirt when she starts to get cold, guides his fingers into her hair and tugs him down onto the pullout beside her when her eyelids start to droop with exhaustion.

It doesn’t matter, though, and it’s not like anyone notices. Because that’s just what friends do, right?

And that’s what she and JJ are. Friends.

•••

Kiara’s not really sure when her complicated relationship with Rafe became a secret.

It’s not even a relationship. It’s not anything, really, just one of the broken fragments from her Kook Year that she prefers not to examine too closely.

Because, yes, she might have gotten drunk one night after Sarah ditched her, stumbled into the Cameron’s backyard and sat by the pool until Rafe found her, woken up in his bed with a pounding headache and his arm around her bare waist, but it doesn’t really matter. Or maybe it does, and she just likes to pretend otherwise.

Because it’s embarrassing that Kiara doesn’t really remember what happened, that she was such a mess over Sarah that she somehow stumbled into Rafe’s bed. Who’s disgusting, and vile, and against everything she stands for.

Kiara never tells the Pogues, buries her blurry, faded memories of that night in the same metaphorical box that contains her memories of Sarah.

It’s easy to avoid Rafe at first, to hide behind the Pogues whenever he shows up at the Boneyard, ignore how his eyes catch on any exposed skin. She starts wearing pants when she works at the Wreck, tugs her skirt a little lower when he passes her in the hallway at school or sits behind her in class. Kiara hates herself for it, for adjusting her behavior to accommodate him, but what else is she supposed to do?

As long as no one notices, she’ll be fine.

But secrets have a way of getting out, and as their hunt for the gold starts to escalate, the closer they get to Sarah Cameron, ignoring Rafe gets harder and harder.

He corners Kiara at the movie night, asks how she is, gets in her personal space. Kiara hates that she recoils, how every bone in her body is itching to walk away and return to the familiar safety the Pogues offer. And when he wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her off of Topper, she flinches, struggling against his grip, revolted by the feeling of his hands on her.

Later, Kiara can’t help but wonder how drunk she had to be to let him touch her.

It feels like a tsunami building at the back of her mind, triggered by every glimpse she gets of him, every brief encounter. She doesn’t know how to stop it, just hopes that when it inevitably crashes, she can keep it contained.

It happens after Midsummers, when Kiara and JJ are sitting in the van outside of her house after leaving John B at the hospital. She’s still wearing her dress, as well as the sweatshirt JJ gave her when she was shaking and trembling in the hospital waiting room. They were bullied into going home by the hospital staff, or else they would have stayed. The nurse they’d spoken to had promised them John B would be fine, that he was out of surgery and that they would be able to visit him in the morning.

They’re just sitting in silence, already having dropped Pope off at his place, the sound of crickets chirping and the hum of the generator outside Kiara’s house soothing after the night they’ve had.

Kiara still feels numb, her face red and splotchy from scrubbing her face clean in the hospital bathroom, her dress wrinkled from her clutching too hard at the fabric. It all feels a little surreal: their adrenaline-filled escape at Midsummers, Topper pushing John B from the Hawk’s Nest, Sarah crying over his body and pressing a kiss to his lips, the harsh reality of the hospital waiting room.

So, when JJ turns to her and says, I ran into Rafe tonight, it’s the last thing she needs or wants to hear.

Kiara eyes the bruises on his face, realizes there’s more than when she last saw him getting shoved into a cop car, focuses on that to distract herself from the growing pit of anxiety in her stomach. “Did he do that to you?”

“Ah, no, this was just—“ JJ pauses, falters, bites his lip like he always does before he lies. “This is nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

Normally, Kiara would push, but she doesn’t have the energy to fight with JJ in that moment. So she nods, stays quiet, waits for him to continue.

“He and Kelce cornered me at the party,” he explains, and if Kiara was being more observant, she would have noticed how he was suddenly avoiding her gaze. “He said something. About you. And I just... I lost it.”

Kiara freezes, her heart jumping to her throat, forces herself to breathe past the panic constricting her lungs. She would like to be able to say that Rafe wouldn’t tell anyone about them, but that’s honestly exactly his style. Especially if he thought it would get a rise out of JJ.

“What did he say?” She asks quietly, biting her lip.

“Doesn’t matter,” JJ says, still not looking directly at her. “It just got me thinking... did anything ever, you know happen between you two?”

“I don’t know.”

Kiara says the words without thinking, and she knows she’s made a mistake when JJ’s brow furrows and he frowns at her. “What do you mean, you don’t know?”

Kiara starts picking at the nail polish on her fingers, not wanting to look at JJ while she explains. “Rafe was always kind of... there, you know, when I would hang out with Sarah. He gave me the creeps, so I usually avoided him, but there was one night. I was drunk, and I wandered over to the Cameron’s, probably to confront Sarah, and he was there. I woke up the next morning in his bed and I— I couldn’t remember what happened, so.”

Kiara stops talking, stuttering out the last few words, embarrassment flooding her. God, she sounds so stupid. What the hell was JJ going to think of her? It was no secret that he and the Pogues hated Rafe.

She jumps when JJ reaches over to take her hand, sees the rage burning in his eyes. Kiara knew it wasn’t directed at her.

“You know that’s wrong, right Kie?” JJ asked, and she could tell he was fighting to keep his voice even. “He shouldn’t have— God, that fucking bastard... he shouldn’t have taken advantage of you like that.”

She nods, wanting to believe him, though there is still a part of her that thinks it might be partially her fault. She’d made Rafe want her, right? And she could preach feminism and women’s rights all she wanted, but she hadn’t exactly stood up for herself when it came to him, had she?

She doesn’t realize that she‘s crying until JJ’s hand tightens on her wrist, until she hears him saying her name over and over again, his voice thick with worry. Normally, she would have pretended that everything was fine, but after the night they’d had and the panic she’d felt over John B, it didn’t take much to send her over the edge.

And she’d never really cried over Rafe, never had someone to tell her that what he’d done was wrong.

So it’s easy to fall against JJ’s chest, let him wrap his arms around her and rub soothing circles against the bare skin of her back. JJ’s style of comforting someone has never been very verbal, which she appreciates, but she honestly doesn’t feel like talking.

He asks her if she wants him to kill Rafe for her, and she knows that he’s joking, but she still smiles against his chest and shakes her head.

She can take care of herself, she knows that, but sometimes it’s just nice to know that someone cares about her. Because JJ’s not playing the hero right now, not trying to seem like a tough guy.

He’s just... there, and it’s all she really needs.

•••

Until their hunt for the gold, Kiara had never considered JJ to be someone who needed protecting.

He was always the protector. Not just of her, but for Pope and John B too.

But after the night where he’d cried in her arms inside of the hot tub, when she’d seen the bruises covering his stomach... Kiara had felt an automatic, instinctual urge to make sure JJ never got hurt like that again.

Part of it is motivated by guilt, because there’d been so many years where she hadn’t noticed, ignored every sign that was shoved in her face. The bruises that appeared far too often, how he flinched away from casual physical contact.

The second part is that JJ has always protected her, and she feels like she has to return the favor.

But Kiara always seems to fail when it comes to JJ, and in the blur of days that follow John B and Sarah’s disappearance (not their deaths, because Kiara can’t quite handle using that word yet), JJ kind of just... slips through the cracks.

Kiara can barely take care of herself, and every time she sees JJ he’s at the Chateau, so she assumes that he’s okay, that she doesn’t need to worry.

She’s wrong.

Kiara is half asleep when the rock hits her window. It takes her a minute to understand what’s happening, to pull back the covers and stumble from the bed, fumbling with the lock on her window when she sees JJ standing below.

“JJ?” She hisses, squinting at him in the dark, trying to figure out why he‘s at her house in the middle of the night. “What are you doing here?”

Between the late hour and the rain-thick air, it’s difficult to see him. JJ was leaning against the tree by her window, wearing his red baseball hat and a long-sleeve t-shirt, soaked from the downpour that had started earlier in the evening.

She waited for his answer, the flirtatious comment about keeping her company or warming her bed, but it never came.

Instead, JJ took a step forward, a hand pressed to his abdomen as he winced, and that’s when she saw his face, the side of his jaw that was more bruise than skin.

Kiara swore, whirled around and threw open her bedroom door, hurried down the stairs and to the front of her house. The panic was hot and tight in her chest, because she’d had nightmares about this exact scenario, the only difference being that at least JJ was alive in this version of reality.

She unlocks the front door, shoves her feet into her shoes, and she‘s at his side in an instant, surveying the damage. She sees why he didn’t answer her before— JJ’s swaying on his feet, can barely stand on his own. He flinches when she gets close, relaxes slightly once he realizes who she is.

His clothes hide the worst of it, as they always do, but they can’t conceal the bruises covering his face, his split lip or the jilted way he‘s walking, the whimper that escapes his lips when Kiara wraps an arm around his waist to guide him inside.

She swears as she struggles to hold JJ’s weight and open the door, trips over her own feet in the front hall. JJ tries to help as best as he can, but it seems to be difficult for him to even keep his eyes open.

“I’m fine, Kie,” he mumbles into her shoulder, slurring his words as they reach the top of the stairs. “You don’t have to—“

“You’re damn right, I have to,” she hisses back, far too aware of the fact that her parents are sleeping just down the hall. If they catch them like this... they wouldn’t turn JJ away, not when he looks like this, but it would certainly mean hospitals and social workers and foster care. It’s not what JJ wants, and she knows it’s selfish, but Kiara can’t lose anymore of her friends. She can’t lose him.

Finally, she manages to get them both into the upstairs bathroom, maneuvering a now-pliant JJ to lean against the bathtub while she rummages through the drawers to find first aid supplies. She doesn’t like how familiar she’s gotten with patching her friends up, how she knows exactly where the gauze and painkillers are.

The bathroom lights make JJ’s injuries look so much worse.

She’d already seen that the entire left side of his face was bruised, that there was a cut on his cheek and his lip was split, but now she could see the imprint of hands on his neck, how he winced with every breath. Not to mention the fact that he was covered in water and mud, shaking from head to foot.

If this is what JJ thinks fine looks like, she doesn’t want to see what not fine is.

“JJ,” she whispers, not wanting to touch him without his permission. “I need to get you cleaned up, okay? Can I do that?“

He hums quietly, blinks sluggishly at her, and Kiara takes that as a go-ahead.

She pries his boots from his feet, pulls his soaked socks off and leaves them lying on the now mud-stained tile floor. But then she gets to his shirt, and she hesitates.

“JJ?” She murmurs, careful to keep her voice quiet and steady, her movements slow so that she doesn’t startle him. “Can I take your shirt off?”

He looks at her through damp blond lashes, and whatever he sees on her face must convince him that she’s just trying to help, because he nods his head, goes to remove the damp t-shirt himself.

JJ winces, likely from the ribs she’s sure are bruised if not broken, and Kiara carefully guides his hands away from his stomach, takes the edges of the shirt and tug it over his head.

She doesn’t mean to gasp, doesn’t want JJ to feel any more uncomfortable than he probably already is, but she can’t stop the sound for escaping at the sight of his chest covered in a gruesome pattern of purple and blue, as if someone had used him as their personal punching bag.

Kiara had hoped his injuries were just the result of another fight, but this... the handprints on his neck were bigger than any teenage boys, and she’d never seen JJ come out of a fight with a Kook this badly. No, this... this was his father.

Which meant he’d done the one thing she’d counted on him not doing. He’d gone home.

She also realizes that the only reason he’s here is because John B isn’t, that the one person he’d always counted on was gone, and her heart breaks even more for JJ in that moment. He deserves better, deserves more than this.

Kiara forces herself to compartmentalize, to ignore the ache in her chest and focus on what JJ needs.

He’s quiet now, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion. But his skin is still cold and damp, and she decides that the first order of business is to get him warm.

She leaves his shorts on, because she’s honestly not sure if she can manage to get him out of them when he’s practically dead weight against her, turns the shower handle until the waters practically boiling, pulls JJ to his feet and guides him into the tub.

He groans as the warm water hits his bruised skin, tilts his head back into the spray. But he’s still swaying on his feet, and the last thing she needs is for him to fall and get a concussion, so Kiara climbs in beside him and wraps an arm around his waist to keep him standing.

“Is this okay?” She asks, afraid that she’s hurting him.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, nodding his head. “Thanks, Kie.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

She gets a washcloth and runs in carefully over his skin, apologizes every time he winces, squeezes a dollop of her favorite conditioner into her hands and massages it into his scalp. JJ leans into her touch for the first time all night, practically purrs when Kiara starts moving her fingers through his hair. She thinks he might fall asleep standing up at one point, has to shake him awake as she turns off the tap.

She manages to get JJ out of the tub and dries him with a towel, helps him into a clean pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt despite his weak, mumbled protests. She knows it’s evidence to how badly he’s hurting, because JJ is never this willing to accept help.

He doesn’t even protest when she offers him the bed, collapses on top of the comforter and closes his eyes.

Kiara goes to the bathroom to clean up, changes into a dry pair of clothes, keeping quiet to avoid waking her parents. She takes the first aid kit from the drawer, returns to her bedroom and places a hand on JJ’s shoulder to see if he’s still awake.

He flinches away from her, his gaze immediately apologetic, but Kiara shakes her head before he can say he’s sorry. “Don’t worry about it, J. It’s just me— I should have warned you, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Kie,” he mumbles, voice heavy with sleep. She feels guilty for waking him, especially when he winces as he moves to lean back against the headboard, but she doesn’t want to leave his wounds till morning. “What’s up? I can move, it’s okay, I’ll just go—“

“No,” she says, a little sharper than she means to, clamping another hand around his wrist. “You can stay, I just want to get you cleaned up. Is that okay?”

JJ nods, but it turns out there’s not much she can do. The bruises will heal with time, so she can only bandage the cut on his cheek and clean his split lip.

JJ must see Kiara’s slight panic, how she’s struggling with the fact that she can’t really do anything to help him, and he places a warm hand on her arm. “It’s okay, Kie. I’m fine— really. You’ve done enough.”

She entirely disagrees with the statement that JJ is fine, but it’s well past two am, and she’s exhausted, so she leaves the first aid kit on the nightstand and climbs into bed beside him.

It’s quiet for a moment, the only sound the distant crashing of the waves and JJ’s breathing. He looks peaceful enough, but the moonlight coming through the window illuminates the handprints on his neck, and Kiara can’t keep herself from saying, “I’m sorry, J. You deserve better than this. I wish—“

She breaks off, because she doesn’t really know how to finish that sentence. She wishes... what? That JJ’s dad wasn’t an abusive asshole? That he hadn’t gone home? That she could somehow protect him from something he’d been dealing with for years, that she’d noticed there was a problem sooner?

“I’m just... I’m sorry it took me so long to notice.”

“It’s nothing that hasn’t happened before,” he says, as if that makes it okay, eyes still closed.

“This isn’t normal, JJ,” she hisses, though she thinks deep down he knows that. “I get that he’s your dad, okay? But why the hell would you go back there? Especially after he knows that you stole the Phantom.”

JJ sighs, rubs a hand over his face. “I just needed some new clothes, okay? There’s no laundry machine at the Chateau. They were starting to smell.”

“You could have asked—“

“I’m not putting this on you, Kie,” he says, and she hates how he phrases it, as if he was some burden. “Or Pope. Y’all have enough shit to deal with. I don’t deserve—“

Kiara wants to kill Luke Maybank in that moment. Not just for the bruises littering JJ’s skin, but for the mental and emotional scars left by years of abuse, how JJ doesn’t even seem to think he’s worthy of love. Most of all, she hates the dark, empty look in his eyes that even her attempts at comfort can’t fix.

“Yes, you do,” she says, not needing JJ to finish his sentence to know what he was about to say. “You deserve this, JJ. You deserve more. And I should have said that to you before, I should have noticed—“

JJ turns his head towards her, and Kiara tries to focus on what he’s saying instead of how blue his eyes are as he tells her, “It’s not your fault, Kie, okay? Don’t worry about it.”

“But I am worried about it,” she snaps, because even though she doesn’t want to argue with JJ right now, he needs to understand that just because John B’s gone doesn’t mean there’s no one who cares about him. “I’m worried about you, okay? With John B and Sarah being— I just can’t lose anyone else, not now, I—“

She realized she’s kind of hyperventilating, and JJ raises an arm to pull her into his side, tightening his grip when she tries to move away at his hiss of pain. He smells like laundry detergent and cocoa butter, and the warmth has finally reentered his bones, so it’s easy to curl up against him. He whispers words of comfort into her hair, promises about staying safe she knows he won’t keep, but as their hands wind together and her head falls into the crook his neck, her fingers in his hair and their legs intertwined, and she decides that it’s enough for right now.

“Maybe we can protect each other from now on,” she whispers a few minutes later, when she thinks JJ’s already gone to sleep.

“I’d like that,” he whispers back, squeezing her hand a little tighter. “Brave warrior princess and her knight in shining armor, and all that shit.”

“Whatever you want, JJ.”

#outer banks #obx #jiara #jj x kiara #jiara fanfiction #jiara fic #outer banks fanfiction #obx fanfic #kiara carrera #jj maybank #my writing

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alluringoneirataxia · 4 years

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Long Winding Road Stay Strapped My Dude

By: Astoria Cathryn Andromeda

Alrighty, this is a long one boys. So I touched briefly on this in my Welcome to Literally Everything post. No worries I'll recap you, so you don't have to switch back and forth. I just diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder, and then ADHD when I was 18 years old, and even then I had to fight for it after countless hours of research. See, there seems to be a wee bit of misogyny in the neurodiverse diagnoses. When I say a wee bit, I mean that scientists used to think that only boy could be autistic or ADHD. They only studied autism in males. Fortunately, nowadays we know that girls can be autistic and/or ADHD, but we present the traits differently than boys, and a lot of our traits are played off due to gender roles in society. For example, being overly talkative in girls is called chatty, whereas boys who can't sit still are sent off for testing immediately. This also causes problems for the boys, because little Johnny gets put on Adderall at the ripe age of 6 years old, just because he can't sit still for 8 hours straight, which by the way should not be expected of any elementary school kid, By the time, he's 25 he's 1) completely dependent on amphetamines 2) his body will stop producing dopamine due to being on the medication for so long. Nicht Gut. Generally, boys who are on the spectrum get picked out earlier due to late speaking, or lack of social skills. This is the one thing that girls happen to do better than boys. Girls are good at masking, which is basically taking social traits, phrases, personalities, demeanor, and copying them. In public, they put on a mask and at home, they have a meltdown. Girls are still not picked up as being on the spectrum, because shyness is called being 'ladylike' and 'dainty', and having a meltdown is just because :( girls are oh-so emotional, boohoo. Anyways tons of women do not get diagnosed with autism until they are well into their adulthood, I actually can be considered lucky to have technically still been a teenager when we finally got all the pieces together.

Alright, let's start with I don't know me as a baby. I did not speak until I was 2 years old, and then it was immediately full sentences from then on. I didn't do the babbling thing, which I don't know how impactful that really is to the topic. I was a very shy little girl. I was teeny tiny, we didn't know I if I was going to make it to 5 feet tall until I had a big growth spurt in 7th grade. I am 5'2 now and definitely done growing in case you were wondering, so not that short anymore. I did not like talking to adults, especially strangers, especially men. I did not look anyone in the face, and I will always hide behind my parent's legs when they would try to introduce me to people. I am an only child, and I spent a lot of time entertaining myself. I always had seasonal affective disorder, where my grades would dip in the winter. My parents knew I had a timer, they had 45 minutes from the moment they stepped into a restaurant before I would start breaking down. If I got off schedule as a toddler in any form, it was a catastrophe. Or this is what my parents and family tell me. I didn't really notice. I did not like being out in public a lot, I was a very picky eater, and I was extremely hyper. I was a very eccentric child, I only had 1-2 close friends and they were always a very well-liked outgoing girl who I just followed around. Looking back, I don't know how we missed it. I was shy because I didn't understand how social interactions worked, I was anxious about it because I didn't understand, I had sensory overloads, routines, and a very bland diet with a safe food which was ketchup. I put that shit on literally everything, eas, apples, mac and cheese, pizza, all meat, anything something forced me to eat that I did not like. But because I could sit still in class, and because I could zone out and daydream all day through school and still make A's nobody ever flagged me for anything and how I was supposed to know that not everybody just copied other people, scripted things before they talked, and could never pay attention. My mom always required me to be in a sport, and I was a gymnast and a swimmer for a long time, two very high-intensity sports, to help lower my energy levels, and because my mom has mild depression and she knows that exercise does help. Skip to middle school, my mom tells me I'm being bullied at church. It's not that I wasn't observing my surroundings I knew I was being excluded, but I didn't understand vindictive behavior, I thought it was my fault. I had zero friends in 8th grade until I sat down next to a random acqutaince I had gone to school with since I was 4 and the same gymnastics place. Then we were immediately attached at the hip after that. She is my best friend due this day and definitely got me through high school. Led me through so many social situations without either of us knowing. I had a very close friendgroup in highschool, all of them were on the drumline which I met through my best friend, and my first boyfriend was my best friend's neighbor. I ended up playing bass guitar for my high school's indoor drumline, and it was the best experience ever. I love my friends, but I had really bad depression when I was 15-now:) jk It's better. I didn't really realize I was depressed, I just didn't want to go to school, or swim practice, or do anything so of course, my mom noticed, and then once it was pointed out to me it got worse. My severe anxiety spiraled with my depression. Senior year of high school, my boyfriend and I were like toxic star crossed lovers, hurting each other over and over again without meaning to. My friends and I were self harming, all my close friends gad some demon going on. I finally decided to try therapy again after the disaster of being forced to go when I was 15 and the lady told me I wasn't depressed because I had a boyfriend and good grades. It helped a bit, I was able to get my panic attacks under control. Then I went away to college and stayed dating my senior high school boyfriend, we were just up and down as always, but with slightly better communication. My freshman year of college I joined a fraternity, a research lab, and my first hs boyfriend/ex/best friend and I went to a Christian campus place. By second semester, I had a lot of people who knew me and talked to me, but I didn't have any close friends, and even less close friends who were girls. All my close friends who were girls were at another college. My parents were worried about me, so they made me rush a sorority, which I knew was never my scene, but my parents made me join and I found a few girls I liked. Soon I was going to 6 classes, fraternity chapter, research lab meetings, christain crash group meetings, soriorty pledge meetings all on every Tuesday. I was different person at each of these events and wore a different mask. I was having what I know now were autistic burnout meltdowns every single day on the phone in my crusty dorm's stairwell. It was not cute. His mental health had always been bad too. Finally I decide I need to try a psychatrist and go back to therapy, and then he broke up with me. Then I made my first close friend, a guy who was in 3 of classes, and I took him to my fraternity's formal, and then coronavirus happened. Rona kinda saved my grades, and mental health by sending us home event though it did suck. I got on anti-anxiety meds and things went up, but I was still having what I thought were panic attacks, they were austistic meltdowns. My psychiatrist, he's kinda an asshole, he diagnosed me with Obessive Compulsive Personality Disorder. I'll insert definition here: (OCPD) is a personality disorder that's characterized by extreme perfectionism, order, and neatness. People with OCPD will also feel a severe need to impose their own standards on their outside environment.> Basically hr told me I had rules for everything like how everyone drives on the right side of the road, but nobodythinks about it andwhen I broke one of my rules I got depressed, and when wasn't perfect I got depressed, and when I made an A I was relieved not proud. The diagnosis seemed to fit really well, and my therapist and I started working finding my rules, and getting rid of the bad ones, and making the others less harsh. I had thought every once and in a while in my life when I was really upset, what if I'm on the spectrum, because I just felt so hopeless for social interactions and I didn't understand. I always felt like I was a very specific person, but after the ocpd I started thinking more and more, and I saw a tik tok of a girl with lae diagnosed autism basically describing me and ranting about the misogyny. I did more research and I decide, yea I'mm gonna bring it up to mypsychatrist well he's a dick, so he was like um you don't act like sheldon cooper from the Big Bang theory,and I was like wellI just I have always thought I might have adhd like be neureodiverse, and he was like your grade point average in hs was a 97.8%, you're not adhd. I immediately cried, because I can't handle when anyone says anything in a even a slightest stringent tone. I'm baby, I know lmao. It made me angry though because I felt like he just brushed away all of my struggles I had in my whole life. I spent hours researching and typed up a 47 page document on evidence for why I was on the spectrum, and had my parents help will some of checklists to make sure I was getting outside perspectives. I rally my parents to be my back up and next psychiatrist appointment we actually talk about it and he asked my parents questions about when I was young and such and finally he was okay you're on the spectrum. I felt so validated and like I could start being myself. I slowly got more and more confident, changed my style of clothing, and researched more about adhd pushed to be tested, and oh look at that I also have ADHD. So basically discourse: "I feel like as a child I coded a machine to do life for me so I didn’t get bothered except I didn’t know about the machine I thought i was the machine and now I’ve become self aware and I have to learn how to read the code and rewrite the code because it’s dysfunctional because I’m not functioning well as a human being. I was really shy as a child. I would turn beat red when people talked to me or looked at me so I think I started cookie cutting situations and using them over and over again because they worked until I accidentally hard wired these expansion rules and expectations for myself. I didn’t may attention is class ever I just day dreamed and if I got good grades i wouldn’t be bothered i could just stay in my head and if I did my sport well my parents didn’t bother me. I was never asked if I did my homework I just did it so I wouldn’t be asked and have to deal with that situation. I would cookie cutter situations in class that would draw the least attention to myself.

I feel like i don’t have friends I just fulfill the expectation like a side quest on video games" I wrote this down pre autism confirmation when i just thought I had ocpd. Now I don't directly identify with ocpd, but I definitely think I developed that personality disorder a bit from living with undiagnosed autism. I am linking below the very informative Tik Toks by the lovely Paige on autism in girls. The imposter syndrome one really hit home. I had had so many panic attacks about thinking I tricked people into being my friend, or thinking I was smart.

I highly suggest watching these short tik toks, you'll definitely learn something

https://vm.tiktok.com/wVvcYA/

https://vm.tiktok.com/wqRRUf/

https://vm.tiktok.com/wnqhvX/

https://vm.tiktok.com/wqeyYg/

https://vm.tiktok.com/wnoE7u/

https://vm.tiktok.com/Kas6gB/

https://vm.tiktok.com/owM9hs/

Imposter syndrome

I am also linking an article about Sheldon Cooper from Big Bang Theory and Autism that explains why my psychiatrist was wrong, and also I am a girl and the spectrum is called a spectrum because it's a fucking spectrum no two autistic people are exactly the same it's like a color wheel.

http://www.autismsupportnetwork.com/news/problem-sheldon-cooper-and-cute-autism-387783

Here is a fun comic about the spectrum and how to view it.

https://the-art-of-autism.com/understanding-the-spectrum-a-comic-strip-explanation/

I am still learning about myself, and how to be me, and how to be myself but without breaking bad social rules. It's quite humorous though because I'll learn something is related to autism and I'm like oh shit again, like still, like, we're still discovering things.

"Tu ne me manques pas"

Bis später,

Astoria.

#asd #autisminwomen #autism #actuallyautistic #aspie #aspie memes

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beabaseball · 5 years

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this is a delirious 11pm post for Adults Only guys

Leave this space, child!

...

...y’all teenagers are going to be tweaked out of their goddamn minds.

Like, not necessarily in the drugged way, though some maybe yes in the drugged way, but like. Specifically in the non-drug way, they’re going to be snippy, and inattentive, and self centered. And that’s probably fine.

Like. Of course teens are self-centered, their bodies are doing weird shit for the first time and people keep making jokes they don’t understand yet, and some of these fuckers haven’t been given sex ed so they don’t even know what’s coming.

The younger teens have just emerged from the child form that has only just started being able to comprehend a larger world. In elementary school, sure I was reading time magazine for kids and we prayed for people who were being reported (religious school; recent tsunami, it happens) and when I was in 1st or 2nd grade we heard rumors that once upon a time women weren’t allowed to do the same stuff as men, but like— you can feel those things, but it’s not really something that you comprehend unless it’s right then a part of your life. I remember the first time I really ‘got’ sexism was in ninth grade in a gym class of 24 boys to 3 + me girls, and I wrote bad poetry about it in my phone for like three months trying to process it.

When I was like 16 our car broke down midway to school and we had to call my dorm parent to come drive me the next 5 mins, and so he’s in a bad mood bc he has to pick me up, and mom is in a bad mood bc car she gets a feeling dorm parent didn’t believe her when she said the car broke down, and it’s like 80 out but more importantly the humidity is a swamp, and I just remember being in his car driving the rest of the way to school and he’s complaining about sunburns bc he’s super pale and Irish, but he’s trying to talk so I kind of say “huh well i’ve never gotten a sunburn. I tan real fast and then go inside and I’m white again.”

and even in the moment I remember being like “that’s not really what he wanted to hear” and I think he even made a face, but I was too out of it and hot and tired to really do anything passed that. And I do feel kind of bad about it? Like, I did not mean to demean his pain of sunburns and I know also that at the time he was having A Rough Time with his marriage, to the point where he had us doing religious plays about parenthood for three seasons straight.

But also, I was a teenager. And looking back I can’t exactly blame my past self for just kinda... saying some words and feeling bad the rest of the car ride but also too tired to care. Theater teacher man wasn’t a bad guy; we were definitely not good at reading each other and he thought musicals sucked, but he also was the one who comforted me out of a panic attack when we had a tornado warning and I ended up convinced my daystudent friend was going to die.

Because that’s what I cared about at the time. Me-related things. Yes, tornado, but I am worried about one (1) person, and that mattered to me. I stayed behind when we got an actual sex-ed person in 7th grade because I was scared that reading yaoi would send me to hell. I had a breakdown in front of my history professor because one of my friends was discovering her gender identity and I was scared I was ‘losing her’ (you know the words!)

Now, someone comes out to me or someone doesn’t understand a term and I’m over here like “yea which definition u wanna use” but back then I was a kid and I had never experienced anything like this before, my hormones were wild—which didn’t mean I was horny and wanted boyfriend, it meant I was in constant fear of bleeding through things and every now and then I would wake up and my body would be in surprise unknowable pain (aka I was finally big enough to cut off my own circulation in my sleep and also growing pains)

Now, I’ve got a lot of that under control. When I wake up with a body in pain I usually know why and probably it is my fault actually. I know a bit better how to get through days when I’m too hot, or too groggy, or just dissociation or mad. (The trick is: say aloud, “sorry if I’m not responding much, I’m just really hot/groggy/out of it/still upset about that.” )

That’s not something a lot of teens have down yet. I saw a kid with a naruto shirt on at work once and I said “hey naruto” and he looked at me like he’d seen the face of god, he was so surprised someone knew what naruto was. To someone even MILDLY in my age range, the idea of not knowing who Naruto is is preposterous. But this was like, 12-15 year old at the most. Not hit his growth spurt yet. Just absolutely blindsided that there was an outside world which recognized something he liked, which I’m gonna wildly guess his parents probably aren’t into or don’t talk about it with him, because the thought of talking Naruto with your kid is horrifying.

Obviously, thinking other people don’t know about naruto is a similar kind of self-centered thought along the lines of “I bet thigh chick isn’t a REAL fan of x” or “EVERYONE has an opinion on me and there is no in between” where like the world... sort of revolves around you.

And like, once that person grows up if they keep that sort of self-focus, that’s usually the time you start trying to ditch them, but even older teens are still just coming out of that larval childhood state. They know a lot more about the world than we probably did at their age—I know a lot of them aren’t having the same existential crisis over their friends’ gender like I did, which is a big ol step— but there are still days that it’s going to be too much new shit to deal with, plus whatever else is happening inside them personally. And it’ll take a while to learn how to handle that.

In the meantime, they might be snappish, or out of it, or just kind of give up and have a ‘fuck it’ attitude sometimes, and it drives a lot of adults just goddamn insane it seems, according to all the mildly aggressive parents at work, trying to get kids who don’t want to be there to give the right reactions. It’s probably not even anything personal to the event that’s making them unhappy. One time I talked to a kid who was crying, and when I got her to tell me what was bothering her, it turned out that some people on her family reunion were mean to her. Nothing about the immediate ‘now’, just a lot of emotion that needed to go somewhere, and that somewhere ended up being crying, and it was not at all about respect or disrespect or anything related to us. Probably most of what was needed was to talk about it (success) and take a long nap.

The first time I remember having a meltdown with a ‘trigger’ like that, I was in 5th grade and my first assignment was something like “what did you do over summer” so I lost my entire shit and cried on the couch for an hour. Passed out, slept til 7, woke up and was fed soup, and have no idea if I finished that paper but presumably I did because I remember a nap and food working.

I would keep having these homework meltdowns periodically, and I don’t know when they stopped, but I had at least one, maybe two, in my first year of college.

And eventually I’ve just kinda.... stopped having them. Stress about a big project wasn’t something that bothered me anymore. You just did it one step at a time, and when you started thinking “maybe I’ll do it in the morning”, you immediately go to bed because you’ve already lost the fight and even if you don’t do it in the morning at least you won’t face it sleep deprived.

It takes time and living to get these experiences, and while one kid might not have the same issues with school work I had, maybe something else just knocks them on their ass every time (same) and it is just. Literally something you need to live through a couple times before you know how to deal with it. You can provide Blank Slate Alien Person with all the mental health tips and anecdotal advice and chamomile tea as you want, but the first couple times they face stress, none of those tips help if they don’t know how to implement them.

If you’ve ever assembled something by instructions and ended up building it upside down—it’s easier to build it again once you’ve gotten mad and undone it and started again. Because you’ve practiced. You already had the instructions, but now you have the experience of building it already, even if the result wasn’t the one you wanted.

Teens are learning a) how to read instructions, and b) that their assembly is probably upside down. and in the meantime, the world is also bonkers wild right now.

When they have that moment of rage, or giving up, or aloofness upon finding shit got built upside down— just. Let them.

You don’t have to ‘fix’ it or ‘fix’ them for having these emotions, or lack of them.

These are normal reactions. They make sense. All I’m asking is that we understand it’s going to happen. These emotions are going to happen.

Don’t let yourself justify being mean to kids and teens by telling yourself they’re being disrespectful. The world and their lives and emotions also don’t revolve around you. It’s not always a rebellion or reason to fight when things get too high strung to hold total control of.

That doesn’t mean ignore them. I was maybe 12 or 13, and it was 90 on a metal ship, and i was wearing an under shirt because i didn’t have a bra, so two layers of clothes on a hot metal ship, on my period— and all I remember is asking my dad to let us sit down and eat some lunch, because i was dizzy and dehydrated, and all he just kept saying we would do it once he saw the tour. I have no idea how long it was but I probably could’ve cried and been called moody or uncooperative.

Life is difficult. Especially for people who aren’t yet in control of their situations. Who are still bursting out with emotions they can’t otherwise articulate.

Be kind to that.

#long post #ramble #teenagers #kids #teens #puberty #puberty Sucks #especially when the world continues to exist around you #beatext #memories

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missjanjie · 5 years

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Branjie Fic | Take Me Back to the Start (1/?)

Title: Take Me Back to the Start Summary: Everyone remembers their first love. Not everyone carries those feelings from childhood to senior year. Yet Brock is starting his last year of high school while still longing for the relationship he lost five years ago. Meanwhile, José is at the top of the food chain and seems to have it all together. But maybe their story isn't over yet. Word Count: ~3.1k Relationship: Branjie (Brooke Lynn Hytes/Vanessa Vanjie Mateo) Rating: T (so far)

Read on AO3

“Sweetie, look what I found!”

Brock’s mother let herself into his room - the door had been left slightly ajar, enough for her to take it as permission to enter.

That, and Brock hadn’t been paying much attention in the first place. He was lazily sprawled out on his bed, only propped up by the pile of pillows behind him. His headphones were in and he was aimlessly scrolling through his phone. It wasn’t until his mom rolled over to him in his desk chair that he became aware of the company. His face scrunched up and his head tilted to the side as he turned off his music. “What’s up?”

She was unfazed, however - being the mother of a teenager meant that this was a common occurrence. “I found this in a box of old photo albums, I think this one’s from your ninth birthday. Or maybe it was your tenth, whichever one you had at the roller rink,” she shrugged off the minor details and handed him the envelope. “Anyway, I thought you might like to look through them. There are so many cute photos, especially of you and José,” as she got up to leave, she murmured offhandedly about ‘what a nice kid he was’ and ‘such a shame they fell out.’

Brock waited until the door shut behind her before he looked through the photos. It was from his ninth birthday, he observed. They were fond memories, or at least they ought to be. Nearly every picture had him smiling and laughing – they could have been stock photos for a child’s birthday with how idyllic they looked.

But he didn’t feel the same sense of whimsical nostalgia that his mother had. When he looked at these captured memories, he felt a melancholic sense of longing. He smiled wanly as he flipped through the stack – a picture of him helping José put his skates on, one of them holding hands as they wobbled around the rink, of them smashing cake onto each other’s faces. Maybe he just missed the beauty of childhood friendship.

Except it wasn’t just any friendship, not even a best-friendship. Brock had been convinced he found the love of his life before they even started middle school. What they had was special, it was theirs. It was probably why his coming out didn’t come as much of a surprise.

And when it came down to it, it was why those feelings never left. One would think time would erase the tender yearning that came with a first love, that was what he’d always hoped for, anyway. But seeing him from a distance at school every day didn’t make that any easier.

“They are good pictures,” Brock conceded to himself, setting all but the hand-holding picture aside. His gaze refocused on the picture and he sighed. “You guys have no idea how easy you have it,” he remarked to the still-frame of his younger self.

Eight Years Earlier…

It was the morning after his birthday, it was bright and sunny and Brock woke up to something poking into his face repeatedly. “Huh?”

“Finally,” José huffed in exasperation, moving his hand away to place on his hip instead. He looked at the blonde, his expression a mix of annoyance and amusement. “You sleep like a dang rock. Almost went to get water, splash you awake.”

Brock yawned and sat up, rubbing his eyes. “Thank you for not doing that,” he mumbled, sleepiness still weighing down his voice. He got to his feet as he adjusted to the waking world. “How long have you been up anyway?”

“I don’t got a watch,” he shrugged as they made their way into the kitchen for a pancake breakfast.

Joan was cutting up some fruit to finish the breakfast spread. “Morning, boys,” she chirped, turning to watch them sit down and help themselves. “Is your mom alright with you coming to the park with us, José?”

The child nodded, dousing his breakfast in syrup until the meal appeared to be equal parts syrup and food. “She said so yesterday at the party.” And he had no reason to lie about that – his mom was just as supportive of their relationship. That, and if she were suspicious, Joan would call to double check.

And the park wasn’t too far anyway. It was close enough that, once they were dressed and ready, they could walk to within a matter of minutes. They could probably do the trip in their sleep, and Brock was promised the freedom to go there by himself when he turned ten.

This visit, at least, came with the perfect weather for a day in the park. It was almost unseasonably warm for early March, but comfortable with clear skies and a gentle breeze. The park was occupied without being crowded, and the boys didn’t waste any time before they ran off to play.

“Look! I don’t even get dizzy when I do it anymore!” Brock boasted proudly as he hung upside down from the monkey bars. He hung like that until he was certain José was looking in approval before he flipped back around and jumped down.

“See? That’s why you gonna make a great ballerina,” José grinned. Other than his mom, José was the only one that had readily embraced his dreams and aspirations. Hell, he thought it was cool that Brock wanted to be different.

Brock beamed at the praise. “You’re the best. Hold on, I’m gonna go show my mom,” he turned and started to where she was, sitting at a table in the shade and reading a romance novel.

But he hadn’t even gotten halfway there when his attention was pulled back to the playground.

“‘Sup homo?” A couple of older boys – probably in middle school – had come up to José, both towering over him with malicious smirks.

José scowled and puffed up his chest. “Didn’t yo mamas tell you to leave me alone?”

“Our mamas’ ain’t here,” the other boy retorted in a mockingly whiny tone.

He huffed, face flushed red with anger, and tried to push past them to walk away, only to be blocked off by the pair, the taller of the two shoving him to the ground.

They laughed at the way the wind was knocked out of him. “Watch it, fag,” he snapped.

The next few moments were a bit of a blur, but the next thing they knew, Brock and José were fighting the tweens with all of their might until Joan and another concerned parent came to break up the mele.

“Yo, come at me again, I dare you!” José shouted, kicking and flailing in the woman’s grasp until she struggled to restrain him.

“Oh whatever, you and your boyfriend aren’t that tough,” the initial aggressor scoffed before he and his buddy left to lick their wounds.

José was finally released and he looked over to see Brock getting lectured on ‘conflict resolution’ and his stomach twisted with guilt. “It ain’t his fault,” he interrupted, “I was outnumbered, he was just tryna protect me.”

“There are non-violent solutions to bullies,” she pointed out. “But all things considered, I understand both of your actions, though I definitely do not encourage them.” And with that, she allowed the boys to continue playing.

The two boys sat on the swings, too exhausted to do anything more than sit and lightly sway.

“I’m sorry I got you sucked into that,” José mumbled, kicking at the dirt.

“You didn’t, I chose to,” he shrugged, staring up at the sky. “They’re just big jerks, so I’ll always have your back. Even if they think we’re boyfriends.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

Both of them had learned early on what ‘gay’ is, and it didn’t take long for them to figure out that the label fit them. It wasn’t weird, they’d insist, to have crushes on boys instead of girls. But they never told anyone but their mothers, and each other, of course. It wasn’t something they would announce, as even in third grade, they were well aware of the consequences that came with being different, as the targeted bullying proved.

“Well, I don’t think it’s bad,” Brock finally answered. “Do you?”

José shook his head. “I ain’t scared of it or nothin’, but what does being boyfriends even mean if we can’t even go to the movies by ourselves?”

Brock tilted his head. He wasn’t really sure what it meant to be someone’s boyfriend. Living in a single parent household didn’t give him much of a frame of reference, and the sister that he was closest to had a girlfriend, and that just wouldn’t be the same, right? “I dunno. I guess we just do what we want.”

“So, are we boyfriends now?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Not long after that, they were called to get ready and head back home, and they pushed themselves up off the swings. Brock looked over at the smaller boy and held out his hand to him.

José looked at his extended hand, then back up to him before taking it, smiling from ear to ear. Their hands fit together perfectly, it felt like two puzzle pieces connecting together and even if that was the only difference between friends and boyfriends, it was just the improvement they needed.

Present Day

The dinner table was painfully quiet, the only sounds coming from silverware clanking against plates. Except for Brock, who was just pushing his food around the plate with his fork.

“Are you feeling alright, honey? You’ve hardly eaten a bite.”

“Huh?” Brock looked up from his plate, only realizing then how much he had spaced out until he was yanked back into reality. It took him another moment to process the question. “Yeah, yeah I’m good. Just...nervous. First day of school and all.”

Joan was never much for pushing emotional conversations, for better or for worse, so she accepted that at face value. “Oh, but it’s senior year, you’ll be able to take it easy before you know it!”

He did smile at that, her unwavering optimism usually did the trick when it came to cheering him up. “I know, but until then, the pressure’s on.”

And even on an academic level that was true. The past year consisted primarily of Brock busting his ass to develop a portfolio to apply to the best dance programs in the country. It was all or nothing for him - he didn’t have a backup, no matter what his guidance counselor had advised. It would be insane if he didn’t have the skill to back it up, at least.

When dinner ended, Brock got up and started to clear the table.

“I’ve got it. I want you to go ahead and relax before tomorrow, alright?”

“Thanks, Mom,” instead of cleaning up, he leaned over to hug her and escaped to his room. He did want to relax, and he was sure he needed to, but he still felt like a tightly wound ticking time bomb. And it was in times like this that, even now, he wished he had José back in his life in any capacity beyond someone he could hardly stand to make eye contact when they passed each other in the halls.

Six Years Earlier…

“No. No, no, no, no. I can’t do it. I have to forfeit I-I-I--” Brock was pacing back and forth, shaking with nerves, all until José grabbed his arm with one hand and smacked him with the other. “Hey!”

José rolled his eyes, his grip on Brock’s arm remaining firm. “You being ridiculous as hell right now. You ain’t quittin’, you’re gonna get yo ass on stage and perform the hell out of that routine I seen you practice every day for months now. I don’t care if you got feet so cold they’re in Antarctica, you’re not chickening out.”

Brock whined and pouted and kicked his feet. On one hand, he hated how José left him without a leg to stand on in terms of their argument, but on the other, he knew there was nothing else that would’ve pulled him back into reality, no one else that would’ve been able to talk any sense into him. “But what if I blow it? Like, I trip, or I forget my moves, or I throw up?”

“Okay, ew. But if you do, it’s whatever. There’ll be the next one,” he said simply. “You the youngest one here, there’s gonna be more.”

“That’s the thing! I’m the only one here that’s under thirteen, if I blow it, it’ll be all ‘See? That’s why kids can’t do it’.”

He grabbed his shoulders and stood up on his tiptoes to look into his eyes. “But you can. And you gonna. Now get it together, yo ass is on in five.”

Almost immediately after that, José was ushered away so Brock could be redirected to wait in the wings. He listened to the upbeat pop music fade out, followed by reasonably enthusiastic applause. He watched a girl in a purple, sequined leotard take a dramatic bow before walking offstage, moving with the grace she must have danced with.

The next thing he knew, he was on the stage, immersed in his routine. It was almost an out-of-body experience, he swore he was watching himself perform instead of actually doing it, as if his body took over to give his mind a much needed rest.

And just like that, it was over. His chest rose and fell heavily while the crowd cheered for him. Even as he was leaving the stage, he still felt as if he were floating.

But then he saw José waiting for him and his entire being had something to focus on. With adrenaline still coursing through him, he sprinted towards the smaller boy and spun him around. “Did you see?” he asked breathlessly.

“Hell yeah I saw! That was amazing, I told ya you could do it,” José giggled, his broad smile hidden with his face resting against Brock’s shoulder until he was set back on his feet. “How many people are left?”

“Five, I think,” he shrugged, plopping himself on a couch and gulping down a bottle of water. “Might as well be a million, I don’t wanna know.”

José rolled his eyes and sat cross-legged next to him. “You know that ain’t true. You just gotta like, zone out for a little while, and you’ll be ready. I was right before, so now you gotta believe me. It’s, you know, science or whatever.”

Brock supposed there was merit in José’s logic, at least enough for him not to argue with him. Instead, he quietly rest his head in his lap - looking up at his face was a much better alternative to staring blankly into space until the emcee of the competition called the dancers back to the stage.

Third place went to a petite girl with box braids styled into a bun and a poised, confident posture that made Brock think a professional gymnast had wandered into a dance competition. And as far as he was concerned, her routine could perform circles around his, so there was no way he had placed.

“And in second place, we have… Brock Hayhoe!”

Wait, what? Surely he must’ve heard incorrectly, but the girl next to him nudged him forward, mouthing ‘congrats’ with a warm smile. It hardly even registered that a silver medal was being placed around his neck, and he hadn’t the slightest idea who had taken first. It wasn’t until the fanfare had died down and competitors were reuniting with their families that it hit him - he had placed in his first real dance competition, one that he was supposedly ‘underqualified’ for.

It was no surprise that as he bounded off the stage, still on cloud nine, his eyes focused right on José, and he picked up speed in a beeline towards him.

Brock hadn’t even realized what had happened next until a man cleared his throat and stared him down in disapproval. Then it hit him that his hands were cupping José’s face and he realized that not only had he won his first competition; he’d just had his first kiss.

They stood in awkward silence until they could be relatively isolated. “Wow,” José finally broke the tension. “Wonder what woulda happened if you got the gold.”

And like always, that humor of his put him right at ease. Brock exhaled and smiled gently. “You’re the one that says I overthink everything. Guess that’s what happens when I don’t think at all.”

José laughed and chastely pecked his cheek. “Just don’t think then. Been working for me.”

Present Day

It was in the middle of the night, and Brock had been tossing and turning for at least a couple hours now. Defeated by his inability to fall asleep, he threw the covers off of him and rose to his feet, aimlessly walking around his room in hopes of tiring himself out.

Not long after that, he’d stopped in front of the shelf at the far end of his room. His uncle had built it when he’d started running out of space on his dresser to display his awards. Lately, it had become a source of both affirmation and immense pressure. He had to live up to the reputation he had made for himself in the competition circuit.

His gaze drifted back to the pictures from his birthday party. It was nights like this that made him miss his exuberant cheerleader that much more. In the years since, no one had ever been able to have the same effect on him.

Eventually he concluded that being out of bed was doing nothing to tire him out, and gave up. He tucked himself back in, willing himself to sleep with a silent prayer that tomorrow wasn’t torture as a result.

And when Brock blearily shuffled into school the next day it became glaringly obvious that his prayer went unanswered. The fluorescent lights were far too bright and everyone yelling and laughing as they reunited after summer break was far too loud. It was like he was hungover without even getting the fun experience of being drunk.

Then he saw José stride through the halls in his freshly-cleaned cheerleading uniform, he found himself angry, almost irrationally so. His presence was mocking him, the irony was too literal. Even though he knew their paths would cross, he had hoped it wouldn’t be shoved in his face like that. He leaned against the locker, head tilted back and pressed against the metal as he groaned.

“Senior year and you’re still carrying a torch for him?”

Brock jumped, hitting his head against the locker and cursing under his breath. “Jesus Christ, Steve,” he hissed, then sighed. “What difference does it make?”

“The difference,” he smirked, “is that you’re going to do something about it.”

#branjie #branjie fic #rpdr rpf #rpdr fanfiction

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artificialqueens · 5 years

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Take Me Back to the Start (Chapter 1) - Joley

(read on ao3)