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watevermelon · 4 years

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Jealous | Eita Semi x Reader

✧ Summary: You thought you were content with your relationship so far - Semi was your best friend and these past few years were some of the most memorable. But all of that quickly changes with some outside forces. ➳ Tags: Angst with a happy ending; some humor

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Four years ago, it would have been a strange sight to see you, an up-and-rising wing-spiker, sitting on the sideline of the Shiratorizawa volleyball team. Being the female team’s manager was nice, but just as ambiguous as the adjective. You sorely ached to be back as an active member on the court and you seemed to radiate that very thought throughout the schoolyear.

At the end of your first-year you were switched from official wing-spiker to sub-pinch server. That was a huge demotion in your eyes, but a position you would gladly accept now. You knees were deteriorating from overuse and it was only facilitated at the Spring Tournament during your first-year. A bad-land from a spike and you tore your ACL. From that injury, there was no going back. That took you off the regular team for the rest of the year, since your doctor recommended six-months of healing.

Torn ACL’s do not heal and you did not want to undergo surgery, since it would only prolong your time away from the court. That decision was terrible in itself, but you reasoned that your volleyball career would end after high-school. So the long-term implications did not affect your future in sports since you did not envision one.

But your career ended sooner than you thought.

You did not seek the advice of the athletic trainer or even your coach and attempted to do the same work-outs as the rest of the team. And for a good amount of time, they bought your act. It seemed you were a miraculous healer, despite the urgings of both your parents and physicians. Dates set aside for physical therapy were skipped and you opted to make yourself useful to the team.

But you were doing just the opposite.

The women of Shiratorizawa’s volleyball team had their eyes set on nationals and it seemed that you were on the right track. The team earned their spot in the finals of the Interhigh Tournament, garnering attention against Niiyama High. You were set to serve, aiming directly for the serious face of Amanai Kanoka. Mid-stride, something did not feel right and you landed, not on your feet, but on your front-side.

You looked up from your prone form on the ground to see the horrified faces of your teammates and opponents. The usually loud section of Shiratorizawa’s student body was stunned silent and everyone’s eyes were fixated on your figure. First aid was able to hoist your motionless body onto a stretcher and time seemed to momentarily stop. You could still distinctly recall the perturbed faces of your friends and family. In that very instant, you felt your heart crack and silently whispered goodbye to your beloved sport.

Your torn ACL developed into a long-lasting chronic deficiency and you were slowly losing control in knee movement.

Pity.

That was the only word to describe the certain expression other people gave you after the fact. Volleyball held a large amount of prominence on campus and the fact that nearly everyone saw your fall – it was humiliating. You were taken completely off the team and instead ushered into surgery and rehabilitation for your knee.

Many of your teammates attempted to show compassion and understanding for your situation, but they would never truly understand. You had accepted, deep in your heart, that even if you had undergone surgery early your knee would continually depreciate. It was only a matter of time.

The coach could understand your reasoning, but cursed your insolence. It hurt her that you desperately wanted to help the team, to the point of sacrificing your future. If she had known, she would have taken you off the starting-line in an instant. But there was no second chance, no benefit in asking what if’s.

The previous manager of the women’s team was leaving with graduation and you inherited her spot. On more than one occasion, you wondered if staying on as manager would really help you emotionally. It was your own personal hell, watching your previous teammates engage in volleyball and never getting the chance to join.

Graduation liberated many of your friends and majority of the people who observed your deterioration first-hand were gone. New volleyball teams were forming and you missed most of their names. Without the use of it on the court, it was harder to connect and really converse with the fresh first-years. You knew the names of the promising few – Goshiki Tsutomu was a hard one to miss. There were also two exemplary female wing-spikers, but Shiratorizawa’s team ran both deep and wide.

With all this distance, you would often miss much of the drama from those outside your year. Many of the other volleyball players made an effort not to bar you and updated you daily on news. Tendou was the number one instigator and you would often hear a warped version of the gossip from him first.

None of the male players were in the same class, ironically. There was one in each class and you shared yours with Eita Semi for the past three years. You were the closest to the mom of the group and he would usually clarify new gossip to you.

The groupchat shared amongst both the men’s and women’s volleyball team usually went ignored in your pocket. Once in a while, you would contribute a dank meme or comment. But for now, you tended to silently witness the drama unfold. Amongst the newly minted third-years was a groupchat just for you guys, both the girls and boys teams, which was the one you and Tendou seemed to haunt.

As such, you were texting away in the middle of class. You sat with Semi, who was diligently writing notes and following along with the teacher. Neither had yet to see you, but no matter who it was, they would pluck the phone right out of your hands.

GC: We’re the captains now. <(￣︶￣)>

12:43 From:s u f f e r i n g (。□°） I’m just saying, we can fight him.

12:43 From: Ushiwaka-sama I would prefer to leave the setter intact

12:43 From: Guess Monster（▼へ▼メ） Are we ignoring the problem of Goshiki????

12:43 From: Captain-Sama! He’s a wing-spiker not a middle-blocker. You don’t have to worry about your spot

12:43 From: Guess Monster（▼へ▼メ） ExCuSe youuuuuuuuuuu

12:44 From: Guess Monster（▼へ▼メ) I wouldn’t be afraid even if he was

It was severely clear to all volleyball members that your spot as a regular was never safe (unless of course your name started with a U and ended with -shiwaka.)

The coaches of either team were relentless in their words and would drop a team member if they showed enough weakness. And you would not be surprised even in the slightest if the essential vice-captain of the men’s team was benched for the newfound first-year. The anomaly of Goshiki Tsutomu could be found in the fact that he seemed to be the complete foil of his older teammates. Despite this, he showed the most promise and you almost wanted to bet money that he would be a regular by the Spring High Tournament.

12:44 From: Ushiwaka-sama Your numerable amount of question marks show your lie.

12:44 From: Guess Monster（▼へ▼メ） Why don’t you shut the fuck up

12:44 From: Ushiwaka-sama But I didn’t say anything

12:45 From: Captain-Sama! LMAO but seriously Soekawa has nothing to worry about

12:45 From: s u f f e r i n g (。□°） Even if he does I think we can take the coconut-head.

12:45 From: Guess Monster（▼へ▼メ） O mi god good one (f/n) I’m about to set his nickname as that

12:46 From: Okaasan/Eita Why don’t you take your own advice and stfu salami

12:46 From: Captain-Sama S C R E A M I N G

Okaasan/Eita has changed “Guess Monster (▼へ▼メ)” ‘s nickname to, “the most tender Salami”.

12:46 From: s u f f e r i n g (。□° ) I can’t breathe

12:47 From: Ushiwaka-sama Lol

True to your word, you were laughing with almost no control while Semi was trying not to have his smile break his stern façade. You covered your mouth to stifle the giggles and the fact that the literal volleyball idiot wrote “Lol” you had no doubt he was laughing as well a few classrooms over.

Those in your immediate vicinity subtly turned to look at you and you had to pretend to bend-down to pick up a pencil to hide your laughter. You thanked Semi for the umpteenth time for grabbing these seats in the back that were far from the teacher’s reproach.

Once you were settled, Semi commented, “The aim of my remark was to calm you all down.”

It was hard to focus in class usually, but after a morning like that you were done. English was your forte and you had no problems with the subject, even in an advanced class focused on the western world’s literature. The Great Gatsby was your shit.

13:34 From: Captain-Sama I have detention now Eita. I hope youre happy

13:34 From: Okaasan/Eita What did I do????

13:34 From: Captain-Sama I literally started screaming at the name

13:34 the most tender Salami At least someone else is suffering too

13:34 the most tender Salami My ass is getting blasted on the shared gc help

13:35 From: s u f f e r i n g (。□° ) Hey remember that time you locked me in the men’s locker room

13:35 From: s u f f e r i n g (。□° ) Karma beyotch

13:35 From: the most tender Salami LMAo thanks for that reminder ugh that was the funniest day I almost feel better

You frowned at your phone and Semi noticed your reaction, “That’s your fault. You brought it up.”

The two of you were done with class for the rest of the day and were casually lounging around his dorm room. His roommate, Reon Ōhira, was in class 4 and had a different schedule from the two of you.

You were laid-out across his bed, backpack carelessly thrown on the floor against his desk. Semi was previously occupied with whatever he does on his laptop, but now he was catching-up with the groupchat. This was incredibly normal and it was almost second-nature for you to lounge in his room. Your roommate, the captain of the women’s team, often noted this with certain intentions.

It was no secret that you and Semi were something.

You flirted nonchalantly and he had an overall friendly personality — it seemed entirely natural. Your relationship had blurred lines and no clear mutual understanding. The two of you could hold hands and he could get away with the occasional kiss on your cheek. And if anyone asked if you were in a relationship, you would say no. Semi would do the same.

There was one occasion during your second-year that pushed Semi’s buttons to the point where he made your relationship known. You could count the amount of female third-years on your hand and still have fingers to spare. This, in Tendou’s eyes, left barely any possible suitors that he would seriously be interested in. And of all people, the eyes of the guess monster settled on you.

Tendou was a somewhat of a Kuudere, in your words. He was not cold, but incredibly blunt and cared on the inside. He had the type of attitude that would not seem to care if their crush noticed them. Instead, he took it a step further, to compliment said crush to other people and claim not to like them. And because he was so damn loud and incredibly obvious, the other male volleyball players seemed to notice and their gazes would casually linger on you.

You would dismiss their sudden interest as only aesthetic-deep and not take any other crushes seriously, especially Tendou. His crush bounced from girl to girl and this was a well-known fact, simply because he could admire a good looking person and not get emotionally attached. However, this was easier when the girl was in his class and not as immediate as on the volleyball team.

Tendou would highlight the specific beauty of your smile or hair casually and the other third-years would calmly agree. Semi could see it all. He was in a private groupchat with those boys and you were the topic of their conversation more than once. He would see the friendly pat on the head from Reon as he complimented your cross-spike. Or how you would converse with Ushijima and his eyes would loiter even after you walked away. Or how you would smile brightly at Yunohama’s jokes.

Tendou and Ushijima’s shared dorm was secretly party central, the later surprisingly okay with socializing on a daily basis. But you normally hung-out with Semi, in his room. And recently you had been getting more and more invitations to their room. He was hella annoyed and would often drag you right after class to chill with him instead.

This did not change the fact that Tendou was aggressive and this led to the day of Semi’s snapping. Tendou was waiting outside of your classroom and once he spotted you, he stepped right between you and Semi to sling a lazy arm across your shoulders.

“Finally we are graced with Friday. No homework to worry about for tomorrow and even better, it’s a rest day for volleyball!” Tendou was narrating the day as the three of you walked, Semi pushed all the way to the side. “Shall we let go of our inhibitions to celebrate this rare occasion?”

You lightly attempted to push off his hold on you, but he did not budge. “Sorry Tendou, not exactly in the mood to go off campus tonight.”

“That’s perfectly alright with me,” He deflected the rejection, “Waka is leaving tomorrow morning so we can chill in the dorm.” Certain ideas were undoubtedly forming in the minds of two growing teenage boys and Semi did not hide his disapproval. Instead, he sighed loudly and had the urge to grab you right out of Tendou’s grasp.

“What do you plan on doing with just me tonight, Tendou?” You teased.

He only laughed and ignored your question, “So how about it?"

“I prefer to get my homework done before the weekend, so that’s what I’ll be preoccupied with tonight.” You answered and Semi smirked at your response.

He bristled at your retort and kept pushing, “Well. I know you like that cheesecake place downtown—”

“Can’t you take a hint, Tendou?” Semi asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Sorry, but once I lay my eyes on a beautiful girl there’s no way I’ll let her go.” Tendou affirmed and tightened his hold on your shoulders.

You blushed at his confidence, “Ha. Well, determination is a dangerous thing.” Semi noted your flushed appearance and the fact that you had not pulled away from his hold.

No way, not on his watch.

Your flustered looks and affectionate embraces were meant for him and him alone.

Was Tendou’s unwavering resolve really getting to you? The red-head would constantly shower you with compliments and it was only a matter of time that it would infiltrate your brain. Meanwhile, he would offer you vague responses and a sparse amount of sentiments.

With his mind made-up, Semi grabbed you right out of Tendou’s filthy arms and into his own. “Sorry. But she’ll be busy with me.” You were nestled underneath his neck and his arm was wrapped lightly around your waist.

The message he was sending was clear and if it was not, Semi sure as hell would be ready to provide more.

Instead of being heart-broken or defensive, Tendou immediately turned the situation around, “Busy doing what?” ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

“Staying the hell away from you.” Semi sassily replied and attempted to walk away with you in his grasp.

Tendou took the message in stride and went further to ship the two of you together for the rest of the schoolyear. The others must have received the message and they laid off from their previous flirting. Well, most of them. The only person unaffected by Semi’s wrath was the great volleyball idiot himself. But it was generally understood that he never really knew the implications of his actions.

Since then, there was no real progression in your public and private relationship with Semi. You hit every milestone with stride: prolonged hugs, kisses on the cheek, and even a sleepover when your roommate was away with her boyfriend. You were happy with how things were now and you feared if you talked about it, it would end. With no real reason to address the subject, the two of you continued with your relationship. He was there when you were sad and you surely did the same for him.

The second-year of high-school was your turning point. Your first-year friendship could be described as average, simply two members of the same game. Classmates and admirers of volleyball, you were cordial for ordinary reasons. After your injury, it was hard to personally connect with anyone.

But Semi could do what the others could not. Your second-year came with the introduction of Kenjirō Shirabu. He was a salty little douche and before the Spring High Tournament he was the official setter for the men’s volleyball team. The teammates that Semi had fostered and grown with since middle school were suddenly dragged away from him. And there was nothing he could do. His best was suddenly not good enough and he fell short to a first-year.

You connected on a level that the others could not understand. Being cut from a team was like being abandoned, but it was no one’s fault but your own. And that fact hurt more than anything. Try as you might, there was nothing either of you could really do to regain your prominence.

You found comfort in one another and it was highly noted by the other team members.

“What’s with the face?” Semi asked, noting your saddened facial expressions.

You paused and then sat-up, “We’re graduating this year.”

“Just because we’re leaving this school, doesn’t mean we’ll stop being friends.” Semi comforted. Friends… That word would continue to haunt you. You were friends, incredibly close with few secrets between the two of you. Your relationship was once in a lifetime and soon there would be more than emotional barriers separating you two.

It was not until the autumn formal that you recognized first-hand the complications of desire.

Someone asked Semi to the formal. And it had not been you. But he still said yes.

You heard this secondhand from Reon, a week after the girl had initially asked. Did he hesitate? Did he even think of you? Did he… have feelings for the girl?

She was someone unrecognizable from Ushijima’s class and you had spotted her after having lunch with just the ace. Social Media was a big thing and of course Shiratorizawa Academy had a team-spirit page that highlighted all sorts of shit. And of course, there were the posts about who was going with who to the formal. ((promposals cough))

You were unsure if you had ever seen her before. But after noticing her, you seemed to see her everywhere. She was beautiful in every way you were not – incredibly feminine and keeping up with her appearance. Flowing blonde hair that went past her elbows and she seemed to always sport a dress. Semi was not distant in any way and it seemed like he was never going to bring it up with you unless you took the initiative.

You asked once or twice about the girl and he waved off that she was very pretty and very determined. She seemed to exceedingly fancy him and would not take no for an answer. And he had no real reason to say no. No real reason. Your heart ached at his simple words. If you were no “real reason,” then you sure were not going to continue this way.

There was a month until the formal and that meant an entire month with having this loom over your head. Semi never indicated he wanted more than friendship and it seemed that was not enough for him. So you pulled away. This was hard since you sat together, but it was definitely different than usual.

You would brush off his invitations to hang-out, which was increasingly hard since you literally spent every waking day together. It hurt you, but it was a good wake-up call. If he did not think more of you, then it was about time you lessened this heavy dependence you had on him. It was an eventual problem that he would find a significant other, but now it was finally before you. You were no masochist and distanced yourself from the constant sorrow. On one occasion, you replied, “Why don’t you hang-out with your date instead?” It was petty and low, but true. You were being replaced. Why would he hang-out with you if he’s got another female on his line?

You addressed this with Reon, but he defended Semi saying that the two were only friends. Semi agreed on a whim, with no real intention of dating the girl or progressing as far as he had with you. But you denied this and stopped talking about it with the two altogether.

You were gleaning out the window, ignoring your lunch and sitting with the guess monster and his ace. “Stop frowning, (F/N)-chan. If it bothers you that much just talk to him.”

“Why should I even bother? He already made up his mind.” You pushed your already minute lunch away.

“Wow, giving up already?” Tendou mocked.

“It’s been three years. If he wanted to do something he would have.”

“You’re wrong, (F/N)-chan.” Salami countered, “Semi has already done something. He told me off, that’s for sure.”

“That was so long ago.”

“What have you done?” Ushijima interjected.

“I’ve never accepted any other man’s affection - not dates, chocolates, late-night talks.” You outwardly groaned and nearly slammed your head on the desk, “I’m about to graduate high-school and I’ve never been kissed.”

Even Tendou laughed at this fact, “Wow, (F/N)! I’d be willing to volunteer.”

You lifted your head to glare at him, “That is unnecessary.” Ushijima stated. “You have proven a great loyalty, it seems.”

“Great.” You mocked, voice dripping with sarcasm, “And this worked out so well for me.”

“It is a rare quality, one that I surely admire you for having.” You sat-up completely, back straight from surprise and eyes glued to the auburn-haired ace that continued eating like his words meant nothing. Even Tendou paused from his causal demeanor to narrow his eyes at Ushijima.

A grin reappeared on his face, one that surely spelt trouble, and he proposed, “Why don’t you two go to the formal together?”

You both paused and shared momentary eye-contact. His eyes appeared mostly impassive, but you had spent enough time with him to notice his questioning gaze. His left eyebrow was slightly upturned and you tilted your head in question.

“I cannot see an immediate reason not to.”

“Me neither."

“Then it’s settled!” Tendou got up to stand by the middle of the table, flippantly placing his hands on both of your shoulders, “Let’s send a post to the Shiratorizawa page so it’s official. Ah so cute, Waka and (F/N) at the dance together!”

Ushijima commented that was extremely superfluous, why should anyone care/know? You reasoned the same way, but Tendou claimed that it was not official until it was on the social media page. You both shrugged and prepared to pose for a picture over lunch.

“No, no. This looks totally lame.” He ended up dragging the both of you outside, in the middle of the quad during common hour. Tons of students were walking by and watched as Tendou modeled the two of you.

He settled on putting Ushijima’s hand on your waist and angled your front facing the ace. Your head was turned back towards the camera and you had a hand on his chest. This position was entirely intimate and even the dense Ushijima commented this, but Tendou waved it off. You wondered what crazy things Tendou could get his roommate to do.

Tendou was having a blast, taking multiple pictures from different angles on his phone. You wondered: how good could it possibly look? You were sporting your Shiratorizawa uniform and Ushijima was in his usual track-suit. You could hear the whispering and it seemed that posting the picture would be redundant, almost everyone saw the two of you posing like this!

The three of you returned back to your lunch table and upon sitting down, you received a brand new notification.

[Instabook] Slide to unlock and see new tagged post

Looks like the two most elusive volleyball bachelor/ette’s have snagged each other! Be sure to check-out this cute couple at the fall formal! Tagged: Ushijima Wakatoshi and (F/N)(L/N)

Attached: 1.jpg, 2.jpg, 3.jpg, 4.jpg

“Was it really necessary to send in all those pictures, Tendou?” You asked.

“They tell us to send multiple and they’ll pick the best one! Whoever the account owner is, they are the ones who decided on showing all of those!”

“But four?”

“I sent in ten. And four is the max they can post, so they must really like you guys.” Tendou teased. Almost instantly, you were getting more and more notifications.

People you had never met before were liking the post and it was embarrassing at how much attention this was garnering! You weren’t even dating! Your phone was constantly vibrating from Instabook and you muted the app entirely – you’d return to it later at the end of the day. Sadly, the volleyball team was quick to react too.

GC: Caw Caw SHIRATORIZAWA ୧༼✿ ͡◕ д ◕͡ ༽୨

14:57 From: Captain-Sama! um wtf is this Attached: THEpost.jpg, receipts.jpg, wtf.jpg

14:57 From: Not-my-libero-Yamagata ( ´ ▽ ` ) Not the otp but I still ship it

14:57 From: Coconut-head Senpai’s gf is so cute (๑꒪▿꒪)*

14:57 From: the most tender Salami You can thank me

14:57 From: Captain-Sama! y tf would I do that

14:57 From: the most tender Salami I got the ship sailing

14:57 From: the most tender Salami And got usiwaka to ask (f/n)-chan

14:58 From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩ And u stil cant get urself a date??

14:58 From: the most tender Salami I’m going to ignore that and show off this CUTE COUPLE Attached: lunchdate.jpg, imthechaperone.jpg

Tendou was showcasing photos he literally took then and there, of you and Ushijima conversing over lunch. It could be viewed entirely as innocent, but after the previous posts it seemed to imply something. Tendou noticed that Semi had seen the chat already, but had yet to respond.

14:58 From: Captain-sama! Are they dating???????????????

14:59 From: the most tender Salami Nah, but theyre too busy to respond to the chat ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

14:59 From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩ OH SHIT

14:59 From: Not-my-libero-Yamagata ( ´ ▽ ` ) WE’RE NOT OLD ENOUGH ( ಠ - ಠ )

15:00 From: Captain-Sama! I WANT PICS

Reon and Semi were discussing the subject in the comfort of their private dorm. It was clear to the tan boy that you were bothered by Semi agreeing to go to the formal and not even telling you! It was only now that Semi was understanding this and he looked to his roommate for guidance.

“I already told that girl I’ll go with her…” Semi was attempting to sort his thoughts, “But I don’t want to hurt (F/N).”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Reon interjected, “You already did that.”

Semi burrowed his head into his hands, “Does (F/N) think I’m replacing her? She means so much to me, that’s absurd.”

“You didn’t exactly tell her that you were going to formal with someone else.” Reon explained, “How would you feel if your closest friend was going to an intimate dance with a date that you never met before?” Semi massaged his temples further, feeling the oncoming migraine that usually came associated with a certain second-year setter.

His thoughts were unclear and the constant vibrating of both their phones were not helping his mental state, “What is happening?”

Reon browsed through his phone first and frowned, “Well. It seems a certain someone’s affection never fully disappeared from last year.”

Semi narrowed his eyes and picked up his phone to see your face splayed across the screen. A smile graced your face and it was clear who was the cause behind it. Ushijima’s smile was rare and came at random moments, but it was encased in memory through the photograph. He almost screamed.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Semi threw his phone on the bed before collapsing face first into it.

“On the chat, it seems Tendou was the one who pushed them together.” Semi punched his pillow at the mention of the brash Salami. “And they’re not dating, just going to the dance together.”

Semi let out a string of incomprehensible words into his comforter. “This is Ushiwaka. He’s not like Tendou, with the endless list of crushes. He’s genuine all the time and complimented (F/N) without hesitation. As in, I’m fucked.”

Reon was inwardly rolling his eyes, it was only when Semi was entirely comfortable with the other person or very enraged that he let loose his short-tempered side. And it seemed Semi was both, right at this moment.

You broke off from Tendou and Ushijima to retreat back to your dorm room. Ushijima agreed to have dinner with you later, in hopes of coordinating your outfit for the formal. It seemed the post of the two of you was the most popular on the entire page and you would have to dress to impress the audience.

Upon entering, you were ambushed with questions from both your roommate, Reon, and strangely Shirabu.

“(F/N), what the fuck.”

“You better not hinder his abilities as ace!”

“Did you just come from lunch with him?”

You blinked at the assault and then sat-down. “One, we’re not dating. So I will not be a distraction for him, I assure you. This is mostly Tendou’s doing anyway.”

Shirabu nodded at the explanation and then walked towards the door, stopping to put a hand on your shoulder first, “Good enough. Have a good time then.” And with that he walked out of the room. Shirabu was a special type of kid, everyone knew. At least he had the best intentions at heart?

“Seriously?” Your roommate and captain of the female volleyball team asked, showing off her impeccable vernacular.

“Come on.” You threw your bag to the side of your bed.

“How did this even start?” She sat down on her own bed as Reon rested on your desk chair.

“I was talking about y’know, what’s been bothering me recently. And Tendou suggested that there was no real reason to stop Ushijima and me from going to the formal together.”

“And what? Ushijima just asked on the spot after that?” She asked.

“Yeah, pretty much. And then Tendou made a big spectacle of it by making us pose for a picture.”

“A top three ace in the entire country and 190 centimeter of pure man, and you are the one to have tamed him. Holy shit, good job.” She commended.

Your eyes nearly fell out of your head and Reon could not stop his sudden coughing fit. “We are not dating.”

“Just the pure fact that Ushijima had no reason to not ask you, wow.” She commented. “If it was any other girl he would have scroll of reasons that would hit the floor with a speech to go along with it.”

“There’s no way.” You countered.

“Do you honestly think there are no implications?” Reon asked.

“Yeah, if anything he’s doing it as a favor.” You answered offhandedly, realizing your mistake instantly. It was natural to speak candidly to the two. However, it was clear that Reon would die defending Semi and thus you stopped speaking to him previously about the situation.

“A favor?” He asked, just as you had thought.

You hesitated. It was not in you to lie and it was only a matter of time before Tendou gave further details to the rest about the situation. “We were talking about Eita-kun before he asked me.”

“What about Eita?”

“Just how really messed up this situation is.” You decided on being vague.

Reon did not take the hint and continued to push the subject, “Why is it messed up?”

“You know why,” You gave him that look, like really bro, “I guess that’s what I get for assuming.

“What did you assume?” Your roommate asked, this time.

“I stayed loyal to him and I never gave into anyone. Never accepted chocolates or dates or anything. And I just assumed he would do the same?” Reon sat back in the chair, obviously mauling over your words.

“Well that is mostly true, with the exception of one person.” Both you and your roommate shot him questioning looks, unsure where he heard that from. “Isn’t it true you did extra practice with Wakatoshi for a whole month?”

“I don’t think volleyball counts as accepting affection.” Your roommate countered.

“Do you see who we are talking about?” Reon explained, “Our beloved ace lives and breathes volleyball. And he shared a good amount of that time alone with you. If you wanted to practice so badly, why not with Eita? He was the official setter.”

“Because Ushijima asked me personally.”

“And you accepted. You voluntarily spent an extended amount of time with him, engaging in the sport he loves and you didn’t think anything of it?”

“Of course not! I would have accepted practice from anyone else on the team.”

“I think that’s where you do not understand.” Reon paused, attempting to fully devlop his next few words before conveying them to the two of you. “You’re treating this extremely casually. But these are all boys who had no problems with showering you with compliments last year. Take a step back and really think about the situation.”

Your roommate interjected, “Okay, hold on. So Tendou and the boys tried to carelessly compliment (F/N) and after that she accepted one of those boy’s request to spend time with him.”

“We are not talking about some irresponsible boy. This is Wakatoshi, the most serious and straight-forward idiot to exist.”

You were sat on the bed, hands currently encasing your head in obvious stress and over-thinking. “But that’s not how I saw it! Ohmyfuckinggod.”

“I suggest you amend the situation, (F/N)-chan.” Reon advised, “I left him alone in the dorm, please talk to him.”

But you were already out the door. You had a growing list of reasons why you were an idiot and this misunderstanding definitely topped the list. You had to tell Eita that Ushijima would never hold a place in your heart like he did. It was impossible for Ushijima to have feelings for you, that was definite. Ever since your unofficial parting from Eita, you had spending more time with the ace. However, you would often be expressing your sadness about Semi and he knew entirely about your feelings. Wakatoshi was a bro.

And it was important that Semi knew that.

You tapped on his door, rapid and loud enough that you were sure other people in the hall heard it. There was a light shuffling inside and it seemed like there were multiple voices.

Semi opened a slight crack of the door with narrowed eyes, but when they landed on you they widened with obvious shock. “(F/N), what are you doing here?”

“I think there’s been a misunderstanding. I was talking with Reon and I think I need to say something before I regret it. Can I come inside?” Semi scratched the back of his ear in thought and did not move to allow you in.

“Who’s at the door, Eita-kun?” And right before your eyes was the blonde date he agreed to go to the formal with.

Semi could literally see and feel your heartbreak. When your eyes traveled from her smiley disposition to him, he saw the narrowing – the pure anguish written across your face. It was something he never wanted to see ever again. The poor boy would do anything for you and it physically pained him that the cause of your sorrow was from him.

You swallowed your pride and yelled out, “I’m sorry for interrupting!” You ran down the hall, not caring that the door to Tendou and Waka’s room opened as you sprinted past it.

“Did you hurt her?” Wakatoshi asked a stunned Semi, who was standing in the middle of the hallway with a hand outstretched.

“I hate my fucking life.” Semi slapped a palm to his forehead. He had something to do first before he addressed you. He slammed the door behind him quickly, so neither volleyball players could throw questions at him.

“What was that?” The blonde girl asked, still standing and silently waiting for Semi. He had called her here a few minutes ago, saying that they needed to talk.

“We can’t go to the formal together.” Semi stated. “I’m really sorry if I’ve led you on.”

“Is it because of (L/N)-san?” She asked, smile still evident on her face. He nodded lightly. “You two honestly suit each other. Even I was surprised when you said yes to me.” She moved to the floor to grab her bag and leave, “May I ask, why did you agree to go with me?”

“I don’t know.” He sat on his bed and wanted to scream, it was rare for him to be so confused.

“You better get your shit together, Eita-kun.” She gave a small laugh and then exited the dorm.

There was no way that you were returning back to your dorm. You knew that your roommate and Reon would still be there and expecting details. You should have known! If you kept distancing yourself from Semi, it was only a matter of time that he found comfort in another person’s arms. You deserved this, really. You had been so petty and jealous without actually affirming your feelings to him.

Text Messages:

17:32 From: the most tender Salami What was THAT?!

17:29 From: Ushiwaka-sama! Where are you???

The only place that you knew would be free of any volleyball idiots would be the on-campus café outside of the nursing building. It only accepted money and not swipes from the meal-plan, which in itself was a turn-off from most of the volleyball teams. It was on the complete opposite side of campus from the gyms and you were sure that none of the people you knew were enrolled in medical-specific programs. Of course, everyone except from her.

It had been a full hour of dodged texts and missed calls when she neared your table. “Hi. You probably don’t want to talk to me of all people.” The blonde started, but still made a motion as if asking if she could take the empty seat across from you.

“You can have the seat. I was on my way out.” You grabbed your various things from the table, readying to leave.

“Wait, please just listen.” You paused in your movements and nodded, “Semi called me to his room to call off our date for the formal. He never meant to upset you and I’m sure he’s looking for you as we speak. Please give him a chance.”

“You don’t have to do this.” You interjected, “He said yes to you and I don’t want to take him away from you just because I am the one who is upset. You asked and he accepted your affection, something we never did. We’ve only ever been friends. With Semi, all I want for him is to be happy. He deserves all the happiness in the world, even if it’s not with me.”

Your eyes were wandering around during your speech, jumping from behind the blonde and your surroundings but never focusing on her. When you gazed back at her, she was holding a hand to her nose and lightly sniffling.

“You two deserve to be together!” She shouted, “Oh god I am so sorry for getting between you guys.”

Behind you, Semi was scouring the café in an attempt to find you. He spent too damn long thinking and not acting, it was finally time that he made his feelings known. Grabbing his phone on the way out, he called Tendou and Waka and neither boys knew where you were. A quick text to Reon and your roommate and they both asked why you were not with him. Semi sighed and continued in his search. Finally, he received a text from the blonde that she found you moping around here.

Semi could spot you in a crowd of rowdy volleyball players within seconds. He found your luscious locks of hair across the very person he left. Damn, he really owed that girl. She took rejection like pro and even took it a step further to keep you here until he arrived.

“Please, you have nothing to be sorry about.” You responded.

A pair of large hands slid to lightly weigh on your shoulders, “Can I interrupt?”

“Please do.” The blonde replied and quickly gathered her belongings. “I wish you two the best.”

Semi quickly took her seat and reached across the table to hold your hands in his. “You said you wanted to clear misunderstandings before you ran off. I need to do the same.”

His grip tightened and you squeezed back. “Let me start, since I owe you an explanation.” He nodded. “Eita-kun, you’re the only man I’ve ever had eyes for. Even if I spend time with Waka-kun or Salami, they’ve never meant more to me than just friends. You’ve always held the most special and largest piece of my heart.”

Semi smiled and moved his chair closer to yours. “I want you to know that I feel the same way. It’s rather small of me, but after you spent so much time with Wakatoshi… I wanted to test if you felt the same heartbreak I felt when I saw the two of you together. I realize now how spiteful that was of me, to the very girl I had feelings for.”

You placed a gentle hand on the side of his face, rubbing rather affectionately and he seemed to lean into it. “Looks like we’re a pair of idiots.”

“But now you’re my exclusive idiot.” He staked his claim and you wondered how his seat suddenly was right next to yours!

Semi nuzzled your nose with his own, smile enrapturing you for the oomph time. You closed your eyes and leaned forward, bumping noses until you felt the gentle touch of his lips against yours. You were entirely receptive, even moving further into his body to get the full scape of his silky lips. The tips of his hair were tickling the sides of your face. And you would kill to feel this sensation for the rest of your life.

His hands lost themselves in your hair, preoccupied with keeping a steady hold on the back of your head. You returned the embrace and he took that as an invitation to glide his lips against yours, silently asking for entrance. You moaned in answer and opened up slowly, but he took it entirely in stride – not skipping a beat.

It was only when a flash went off that the two of you broke apart, gasping for air.

“Holy shit!” Tendou yelled, Wakatoshi clapping not too far behind him. You flushed with embarrassment. God you moaned in public! “This one is for the page.”

You were about to interject when Semi stated, “Finally. Maybe now you bastards will get the message.”

New notification:

[Instabook] Slide to unlock and see new tagged post

Hot momma! Finally, it seems as though the couple everyone shipped together are finally official~ Hopefully we don’t have to mark this page as 18+ Tagged: Eita Semi and (F/N)(L/N) Attached: 1.jpg, 2.jpg / 3.gif

Semi led you back to his empty dorm, your roommate and Reon were bro’s and willingly offered to have a sleepover to give you two alone time. You were currently encased between his arms, legs tangled and speaking in low voices. He had you nestled beneath his chin, but most of your weight laid across his chest. Semi did not want this moment to end. He waited three years for this, it was a moment of love in the making. You laughed lightly in his arms, not a care in the world keeping you from him. You were both on cloud nine, basking in each other's presence. You never took Semi as a closet cuddle-whore, but you were not complaining. His arms encased you perfectly and you could not hold back from placing butterfly kisses across his chest. You loved him, it was only a matter of time that you found out.

—xXxXxXxXxXx—

➳ A/N: This fic may seem familiar because it’s being brought up over from our earlier Deviantart account! <3

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soulwillower · 4 years

Text

boyfriend stuff • richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader)

requested: PLEASE FAKE DATING TO LOVERS WITH RICHIE PLEASE A WHOLE FIC PLEASE MORE

warnings: swearing, fluff, mentions of sex, a bit of drinking, family members, richie has a little sis!! and i believe that is it but as always its unedited

[losers + reader are in college]

sorry i haven’t been posting much but i have this fic for u guys, hope u like it!

6k words yowza

♡

"you said what?!" you hiss, your stomach swirling, jaw dropped as the wind whips your hair around. richie's grinning, but it's not his usual up-to-something grin. much more of an i'm-sorry-i-ran-my-mouth-again kind of smile, but it's still richie's, so it's impossible to stay annoyed.

"well shit, doll. you know how i am! and it was my grandma, i couldn't let her down. she is crazy." he says with a shrug, his hand pushing back his wild curls as you glare up at him in his stupid striped shirt and awful, annoying, angelic face.

you scoff, crossing your arms as your eyes flick to behind richie, taking in the law library and some kids playing hackey-sack on the quad. birds chirp in the distance. "c'mon, toots. you can play my girlfriend for a few days, right?" he asks gently, making you look back to him, gazing into his hopeful expression.

you're silent as a warm breeze flutters around you and you weigh your options - honestly, what could go wrong by going to your friend's grandma's house and pretending to be his girlfriend for a bit?

"how far is the drive?" you ask sharply.

"yes, baby! i knew i could count on you." he yelps, scooping you in his arms and making you yelp, rolling your eyes. "i didn't actually commit to fake-dating you yet, richie. unless you pay me."

"100 bucks, kid." he says, holding your shoulders. you gape at him, "what? do you seriously need to convince your grandma and the rest of your family that you're dating someone that much?" you ask, eyes wide and a smile curling onto your lips.

this boy was ridiculous.

he launches into a story about how his grandma is super weird - nice, but oddly suspicious; like (as he puts it) red-scare mccarthy type suspicious, which doesn't do much to help his case with you.

he then lists on his fingers the reasons he needed a girlfriend and continued to insist, "y/n/n, look at me. nobody's going to believe that i'm single. i'm way too gorgeous." you roll your eyes so hard it hurts.

"-plus, you're the only friend i have that is hot enough and tolerant enough to pass as my girl for a whole weekend. i would ask stan the man, but i already mentioned that it was specifically a lady-lover of mine, and i can't put stan through a weekend of bra stuffing on top of faking' it with me."

you scoff at his absurdity, following him as he walks towards his dorm and weighing your options. "we have to stay with your batshit grandma, tozier? and you're really gonna do all that boyfriend stuff?"

he just laughs, tilting his head up so the sun glints on his forehead and you have to tear your eyes away before you get too attached to the sight of him.

"oh, of course i am toots. i can't wait to treat you like you deserve, babe. plus, it's a small house. we'll be sharing a room, though." he mutters, slinging a heavy arm around you and giving you icy butterflies that thrash in your ribcage. you groan, "come on, richie. i'm only doing this out of the goodness of my heart." you mutter, shaking your head as he sweeps the door to his building open and wiggles his brows. "and i have to share a bed with you?"

"you can curse my momma for bein' so liberal." he says with a shake of his head, "you'll love her, though. she's excited to meet my girlfriend."

you fake a gag.

somehow, a week later, you're pulling yourself out of richie's beat up cherokee and sighing at the heat outside, watching as richie unfolds his body to his full height and sweeps an arm towards the quaint house across the street. you walk to his side of the car and shake your head, trying not to think of the pressure of acting like a good girlfriend for the next two and a half days.

the drive back to richie's hometown was just as you'd expected a road trip with richie would be - cherry cola, loud music, a/c on blast as the summer warmth whips around his car on the outside, and a briefly awkward lay out of rules for the two of you to follow.

"well what about, like, rules?" you ask, feet balanced on the dashboard. he looks over to you, smirking as he hums along to the radio as it plays quietly. "well, like, what about them?" he asks, smacking his mouth and fake twirling his hair like a valley girl. you hide a giggle behind a glare.

"i'm serious, rich." but your smile gives way to your playful manner as you toss a chip at him. it hits his shoulder and he smirks - you're distracted, then, by how the faint morning glow hits his eyelashes, how his side-profile is sharp and angular but somehow also soft and subdued.

his hair is scruffy and placed perfectly as if he'd just rolled out of bed - though you know it took him a few minutes to make it look that way. he's wearing his stupid black corduroy pants and a long sleeve shirt that looks so soft you might melt and his lips are quirked into a wry smile.

richie's eyes are bright and teasing as ever, even on this early morning, and his teeth toy with his pink lips as he grins. you smile to yourself as you stare, because richie tozier is an artwork.

"y/n/n?" he asks softly, shooting you a soft look that really makes your fingertips tingle as you reach for your coffee. had he been speaking to you? you clear your throat, "richie, eyes on the road."

he chuckles but obeys, turning to look forwards, and you feel your heartbeat relax slightly. "okay. what about touching?" you reiterate as he keeps glancing at you, making you flush and your stomach thrash in tickle.

"you know i'm all for it." he wiggles his eyebrows and you scoff, shaking your head and pressing your lips together to keep down a smile. he's too much."-for real, though. what are you comfortable with? i can do any of that boyfriend stuff." he says, mimicking your words from the week before when you'd agreed to come, and you turn red again for nearly no reason.

you shrug. "well, touching is fine...but don't you think.... er- i mean, maybe kissing is just... a little weird? i don’t know." you ask, your stomach fluttering. you're not totally sure why, or you just don't want to address it, but you think that kissing richie might make things... different for you.

you ignore the feeling as richie nods. "yeah, i mean it’s not like my parents are gonna try and make us lock lips in front of them anyways." he mutters, making you roll your eyes, smiling out the window as the countryside flashes by in splashes of green and yellow.

"right, kid. you ready?" richie's voice calls you to look at him with a smile. "guess so." you shrug, your breath mixing with the warm afternoon air. the front door of the house creaks open from across the yard and richie turns to you, smiling devilishly and holding your bag in his hand.

"quick, they're coming. kiss me." he says with a lopsided grin. your stomach dips and you huff, "ew, no!"

he looks at you with a grin as you continue, "-you just had funyuns! that's so gross." you say, shoving his face as he tries to lean closer to you, making kissy faces. you can't help yourself from giggling as he smiles, "do it! c'mon, toots. plant one on me." "no, rich!" you squeal with another laugh, shoving him as he beams down at you. slowly, he pulls you into his chest and you lay your head, wrapping your arms around him. the proximity of your bodies takes your breath away as you breathe in the faint scent of mint, strawberry and cigarettes. it makes you relax almost completely and you're unsure when these feelings with richie started, but you're suddenly hyperaware of them and you think you might be in some real trouble.

"let's do this, y/n/n."

you'd expected meeting richie's family to be the most stressful part of your day, but it went so smoothly you were almost concerned.

his mom was taller than you but still shorter than him, and when he lifted her up in greeting it made your heart swell. next was his grandma, who was quite short and had curly gray hair. she hugged you and kissed your cheek and you immediately felt welcome as you met them.

then not shortly after, a fiery bullet with a black dress and light - up sneakers came barreling full speed at richie, making you blink as he yelled, "munch!" and lifted the girl up.

you met his little sister, who he insisted you call "munch," through a shy wave and a grin as she had her arms looped and face buried in his neck.

and then you smiled and pretended not to feel anything as you watched him tickle her and kiss her forehead.

throughout the day, it is physically painful for you to watch richie with his family. really, it is.

you know richie tozier. the boy who falls asleep at the library and drools on his textbook, the boy who ties people's shoelaces together at parties when he's just entered that drunken stage of "pranky richie." he's the dumbass who fell out the window of bill's dorm and into the bushes, the kid who was a huge nerd yet incessantly boasted about his 'very high' body count (which, by the way, you did not believe). he was the loud person at every party, the kind who drew people in out of admiration, fascination or loathing, he was the boy who got the highest gpa and also the highest amount of parking violations and speeding tickets.

but here, at home...

god, richie was incredible. he had a whole other side to him that fit in perfectly, like a missing piece to a puzzle that you didn't even know was incomplete. he spent as much time with his sister, munch, as he could - singing to her, brushing and braiding her hair, teasing her relentlessly, and making snacks for the three of you.

he even wore a tiara and a tutu when munch insisted you have a tea party - and he steeped real tea (which tasted like shit because he did not know how to steep tea), even getting out his grandma's fancy cups.

the way he treated munch was honestly the nail in the coffin for you, because the one thing you expected richie to be bad at was interacting with young kids. like, he swears like a sailor, is always bouncing around, rarely goes a day without a cigarette, and just all around seems like he'd prefer the company of an average-aged joe. but he is full of surprises, as you've learned.

it took almost six hours of driving to get to his grandma's house, none of which richie allowed you to drive, despite your insistence. so after a quick catnap, you'd spent the entire day exploring the house, playing games, and getting to know munch and the rest of his family. and so now, before bed, richie was upstairs showering while you were sitting downstairs at the kitchen table with his grandma and his sister.

you were left to your own wits with his family, which wasn't too bad, but you're nervous you're going to slip up.

"you are just such a lovely young woman, aren't you?" his grandma asks, sipping on her bailey's. you laugh, shrugging your shoulders. "you're too kind, really. you guys are just easy to be around." you say with a smile.

"now i just wonder, what made you settle with richie?" she asks, lifting a brow. you choke on the last gulp of your own bailey's, the warmth going straight to your stomach and the alcohol right to the head. you decide to go the joke route.

"i have no idea, i mean. have you seen those awful shirts?" you say with a snort. his grandma laughs sweetly, sipping again and seemingly forgetting the problem so you pull at your collar, willing for richie to come rescue you.

speak of the devil and he shall appear.

"-hey, you can't judge my life choices, y/n/n, because you are one of them." he says with a grin, drawing you into the crook of his shoulder. "the best one, might i add."

you flush but just roll your eyes, knowing that it's just for show, but secretly yearning for that to be true.

he groans."can you at least pretend you think i'm charming?" richie whines, "that costs extra." you say, then suddenly your eyes snap to richie's as you realize what you've said.

"costs?" his grandma asks, looking confused. you clear your throat, "o-oh, i..."

"she owes me gas money." "he owes me money for food."

you stare at each other - fuck. that's kind of awkward. richie's grandma hums in suspicion and your mouth feels dry.

richie suddenly guffaws loudly, shaking your shoulders as he nods. "well aren't we the cutest, y/n/n? okay, let's get you off to bed now." he rushes, shitty excuse doing nothing to fix the situation as he tugs your arm so you rise from the stool, then places your empty mug in the sink. he kisses his grandma on the cheek and hurries you upstairs, towards the guest bedroom where you're both staying.

the next day was when you really realized that richie tozier never stopped fidgeting. he was an anxious person inherently, so you understood this mixed with his adhd led him to tapping fingers, humming and bouncing his legs.

earlier, he'd had his arm secured around your waist (a foreign yet welcoming sensation) as you'd eaten dinner with his family. he was shaking his leg so aggressively that the table was vibrating and you loved it - you loved the uncomfortable but understanding looks on everyone's faces. you loved that they loved richie just as you did, you loved that they accepted him and teased him and hugged him and joked with him and listened to him like you did.

"what're you thinking' about?" he'd asked into your ear, loud enough that the others had definitely heard. his grin was nearly audible and you smile, looking into his warm eyes, "just you." you'd said simply, with a shrug. and as the words left your mouth, you realized you weren't even putting on a show, or ‘faking it' for his family.

you just really, really liked richie.

shit.

so now, it was well after richie's sister had gone to sleep and the rest of the family was up drinking, listening to music and telling stories. you really were enjoying all the embarrassing stories that fell from maggie's lips, her brain and body being well into a bottle of chardonnay and being more and more humiliating as the clock ticked on.

"-and he was- what was he, dear, seven?" she asks, hand falling onto wentworth's thigh. richie groans, "mom, stop. this isn't even funny."

you nudge him, "speak for yourself."

richie scowls then, leaning back against the awful floral pattern of the couch and pulling you into his side. you smile as you nuzzle into his chest, listening to his wild heartbeat as maggie laughs, "oh, rich. we're just teasing you because we love you."

you nod and giggle as he sticks his tongue out at her. his grandma speaks up, "how did you two kids meet?"

she sounds almost angry, and you're not sure why, so you laugh a little into your sleeve as richie leans up a bit as if preparing for a bullshit speech.

"well y/n was friends with bill first, you know. bill, mike, and her had a class together, and i always heard about y/n this, oh y/n that." richie starts. you smile as you watch him talk, recognizing that it really is the way you met. you'd figured he would just make something up.

"-but anyways, this one time, she came into the dorm because she thought bill would be there. it was just me, though. i was working on some homework or something, and she-she just looked amazing. seriously, i sounded like bill when i introduced myself because i stuttered so much." maggie shakes her head at that, but richie plows through, "and god, ma, she's so smart, she was so sweet i swear i almost got cavities just from talkin' to her for ten minutes. i have never been more star struck in my life, dad. i swear." he says, shaking his head. "later, after y/n left, bill told me he did it intentionally. the little wingman he is, tried to get us to hang out because he knew i'd fall head over heels in love. who couldn't?" he ends, smiling gently at you and brushing his hand on your cheek.

oh.

you feel yourself flush and then you smile at the carpet, your hand rising to grab richie's and lace them together. you didn't know how damn thick tozier could lay it on - boy did he know how to woo a girl. even if it's all fake.

"meant to be, huh?" wentworth says, and you look from him to richie's grandma, then to richie. "guess so." you say quietly, leaning up to quickly peck richie's cheek and then telling yourself it's just for show in front of his family. it isn't.

it was only 15 minutes later that richie decided it was time to retire to the bed, insisting you come with him - but you know it’s because he’s getting very embarrassed. it was cute to see him flustered for a change.

"goodnight!" you call, waving to maggie and went as they raise their glasses at the two of you, maggie with a knowing glint in her eye.

you both walk in content silence until you get into your bedroom.

the music still plays downstairs, a melody of piano and guitar and maybe a quartet wafting up through the vents and creating an eerily romantic ambiance. slowly and wordlessly, richie puts his hands on your waist and hums nonsense as he sways the two of you.

without thinking, you melt into his touch and smile.

you wind your arms around his neck as you move with him, his meaningless humming setting your heart into overdrive - or, perhaps, it's because of the proximity to the boy in front of you.

"rich, nobody's here to see us." it's whispered, because you really don't want to pull away or to have him realize that this isn't what friends do, because you like it. a lot.

"i know." he says it so softly, you barely hear it. but it's there, the words are out in the open, and you like the way they fall over the air in the room like they're meant to be there. the soft light of the single lamp, the ugly floral wallpaper, the smell of richie.

"isn't it nice, though?" he adds, almost like an afterthought. you grin down at the carpet below you, your eyes taking in his striped socks, his feet absolutely dwarfing yours as you move back and forth gently.

"yeah, it really is." you whisper back, lifting your head up to watch his owl-eyes as they stare back at you, his chewed lips parted as small puffs of breath fall out, his nose splattered with freckles that you can make out from the proximity. he smells like chocolate and that damn mint smell again

"richie..." you start, your eyes trained on his lips as you slowly feel yourself leaning closer to him. he looks frozen, his eyes now changing from wide to almost hooded as he stares down at you.

you wonder if he's afraid to move, because he's stopped swaying you and now his thumbs are rubbing circles into your side, slipping under your top and yeah, that's definitely new but it's amazing and you wonder if it's such a bad thing for you to want all this stuff with richie.

and to want more.

"yeah babe?" he asks and your brain marvels at how natural and unceremoniously the pet word falls from his lips, as if that really was your name.

but then - be it fear, shame, or anxiety - you mumble out the words, shaking your head. "did bill really try to set us up? l-like, was that all true?" you say with an awkward smile. you just clear your throat, eyes not focusing on richie as if you're looking for something, anything to occupy your mind because you can physically feel the tension and it's suffocating you.

"yeah." he says simply after a couple moments, arms still wrapped around you. you're now too nervous to look at him because he'll see how pleased you are, how happy it makes you that people want you and richie to be together. "all of it was real." he says and his voice sounds so honest, so genuine and so raw that you smile bashfully, looking at him shyly.

"oh, cool." you mutter quietly, fingers playing with the fabric on his chest. he chuckles and his chest shakes with the noise as he pulls you even closer to him. his fingers rise softly to cup your chin and he tilts your head so you're looking in to each other's eyes.

richie is staring at you with a sincerity that you swear you've never seen before; his gaze on yours makes you hear a soft guitar melody, makes you feel weightless and completely full at the same time, makes you taste adventure and strawberries.

his lips are parting and if he were to speak to you right now, you're completely confident that you would not comprehend a single one of his words because you're too caught up in him. he's making you see pale pinks and blues and lilac and you swear you want to stay the subject of his gaze forever and ever, just you and him and the world outside this room.

"cool, hm? cool is all i get, baby?" he asks softly, and the only reason you hear it at all is because you feel his breath on your lips and even though you said 'no kissing,' that was a lie - you think you might want to feel his lips on yours forever. your eyes fall shut as you grip his shirt collar, smelling his stupid strawberry 3-in-1 wash as you lean in closer.

and his lips brush yours so faintly that you swear it's like a kiss from a fairy; there and gone so quickly you aren't sure if it ever happened in the first place-

"-jesus, munch!" richie suddenly yelps, scaring you and himself as he jumps slightly, leaning away from you.

you look down, eyes opening to see richie's sleepy sister staring up at you two with wide eyes, her hand clutching richie's leg. "why are you up, kid?" he asks softly, kneeling to her height, hands leaving you. your heart pounds wildly in your chest and you try to catch your breathing, your fingers brushing your lips as you watch richie. did that just happen?

munch whispers into richie's ear, looking to the floor afterwards and you smile, loving how different the siblings are in personality and how sweetly richie treats her.

richie looks to you with a bashful grin of his own, his cheeks glowing pink and making your heart flutter because at least he felt slightly the same way you felt right now.

"munch wants you to read her a story." he says, shrugging lightly, "you don't have to if you don't want to." he adds, his hand rubbing her head as she hugs his leg. you smile, "n-no, i'd love to."

richie rubs munch's cheek, "lead the way, kiddo." richie loops his arm around your waist softly as you follow her to her room, and you are pretty damn sure it's not just for show.

it took about ten minutes for her to fall back asleep, nestled in a mound of stuffed animals, blankets, and an old shirt of richie's that he'd left behind when he went to school.

your own eyes droop as you lean your head onto richie's shoulder from where the two of you rest against the wall, stretched on the edge of her bed, and the last thing you remember is smiling at munch's sleeping figure before it's all blank.

you wake up again with a start as you hear a thudding noise - your eyes are bleary and dry, your back and neck kinked in the worst way and you groan a bit as you stir and lift your head. you look around and richie is standing in front of you, arm outstretched. wordlessly, you grab his hand and pull yourself to your wobbly legs as you look at his sister's sleeping body.

you're so exhausted and thrown off that you just follow richie wordlessly into your room and pull off your jeans, putting on shorts before flopping onto the bed next to richie in the dark.

"g'night." he mumbles sleepily as he wraps a heavy arm around your waist, pulling you closer so he can reach over you to put his glasses on the nightstand. he falls back onto the pillow with a tired huff and you're already half asleep but you can't help your heart from picking up speed as a pair of lips press softly to your hairline.

you fall asleep this time feeling warm and comfortable, the feeling of his lips burning on your forehead sweetly.

when you wake the next day richie’s already gone, the space next to you cold and empty.

after getting ready, you pad down to the main floor to find everyone outside, munch and richie splashing around in the pool in the backyard. you're excited to see they've set up a lunch outside in the shade under the tree and you decide to go put on your swimsuit just as richie walks in.

"mornin' sugar." he grins, walking over to the kitchen sink. you snort, looking at the clock on the oven: 11:18.

"hey, sorry i slept so late." you mumble, your stomach filling with butterflies as he smiles genuinely at you. your eyes trail over his bare chest, dripping with water droplets as he breathes slowly. your mind flashes back to last night, and you shake your head, jabbing your thumb behind you. "um, i should go put on my suit." you feel awkward.

he hums, pushing off the counter, "i'll walk with you."

you frown as he does, nervous about being alone with him again. you're being a fucking dumbass, sure, but he makes you nervous in the most delicious way and you can't help but picture his lips fully on yours. it's a terrifying thought, honestly.

"my grandma is being weird today, i think she's onto it because she said we were just really good frien-" richie mutters as you walk the hall and you cut him off, frustrated with his paranoia for no reason.

"rich, why does it even matter if she suspects us? it's not like she knows for sure." you try to reason, your hands falling on to his arms to halt his stride.

he’d just mentioned his grandma’s offhand comment about how close of friends you seem to be. maybe it was nothing, or maybe she didn't believe you. why did it even matter?

he shakes his head, eyes wide. "because that's fucking embarrassing for me! i have feelings, you know." he defends.

you roll your eyes - you knew damn well richie had feelings. this was getting to be so stupid, this whole thing was pointless - because you know that you've just fallen in love with richie for real and made things ten times harder for the two of you.

"of course you do, rich, but we-"

the noise of footfall in the hallway to your left sends you both into a panic for no entirely good reason, so you tug him closer towards you with wide eyes. his hands catch himself on the wall on either side of you, his breath fanning on your face.

why are you so panicky and jumpy? "did they hear us?" richie whispers frantically, head turning to look and see who was coming towards you.

so instead of responding, for some reason your brain insists you act like a fool and draw his lips to yours. your hands cup his jaw as you press your lips to his, the feeling sending your stomach through loops and your brain fuzzy.

holy shit, this was exactly what you told yourself not to do. shit.

just as you pull back slightly, intending only for the kiss to be a chaste peck, richie's hands are on your body and he's pressing you against the wall, deepening the kiss as he tilts your head to deepen it.

you're caught off guard, eyes wide as you throw your hands around his neck, kissing him fervently. your eyes close and his tongue prods your lip, taking your fucking breath away.

he tastes like sugary lemonade and you think you're melting, spiraling and falling deeper as you open your mouth. you almost moan out at the feeling of his tongue in your mouth, sliding your tongue against him just as a throat clears.

you both pull back, alarmed even though you knew this was going to happen - but you're more alarmed at what the fuck richie just did than at his grandma staring at you.

yeah, his grandma catching you kissing was sort of a huge victory in the 'selling the fake relationship' department, but it’s also a huge bummer for your 'pride and self-confidence' department.

“shouldn't you two be outside?” she says, a small smile on her lips. you let out a quick breath, unable to fucking speak after what just happened. you faintly think you can hear richie saying something to her and then she’s shaking her head with a smile and walking towards the backyard. you blink, your fingers still hovering over your tingling lips. then, you snap out of it and turn to richie. as you shove him up the stairs, you yelp, "if you ever kiss me like that again-"

"oh, shut up, you liked it!" he fights back as he turns toward the room you're sharing and lifts a brow, "you opened your mouth for tongue-" he starts but you screech, rushing through the doorframe and shutting the door a little to loudly, "i did not!" you hiss, shoving his shoulders and hiding your smile.

he stares at you, a grin on his face and eyes teasing. "-then why'd you lick mine when i stuck it in your mouth?" he’s shrugging. you want to punch him in embarrassment because holy shit, is this not a big deal to him?

your eyes widen and you scrunch your face, "god, you're disgusting, just-" you sigh, shaking your head.

your heart is thumping wildly in your chest and you have to physically hold your hands down by your sides so you don't reach up and tug at the stray curl on richie's forehead.

"doll, all i'm sayin' is that was a good practice kiss." he shrugs again.

right. it was for practice.

he speaks up again and you swear he’s giving you a headache. "hey, i mean...since we're here, should we practice sleeping together too?" you turn bright at his words. "richard!" he giggles as you slap his shoulders and he mutters, "-yeah, no, i was kidding, sugar. damn, baby." he mutters, shaking his head with a grin so bright you can't help but share it. “i mean, technically we already did, last night and the night before. but that’s not the kind of sleepin’ i was talking about-“

you cut him off with a stern look and an elbow to the gut and he has the audacity to fucking giggle.

your stomach tosses and flips itself sick inside of you at the sound and you sigh, giving him a look as he grins. you hope he doesn't notice the absolute heart-eyes you have for him at every given moment.

"cross my heart, sugar. totally kidding." he says, eyes closing as his fingers lazily trace an 'x' over his chest. "i'll wait out here for ya, toots." he says as he walks out of the room, leaving you to change into your suit quickly.

when you open the door back up for him, he whistles. "damn, y/n/n, you look fuckin' sexy."

you stare at him with a blank expression. "richie i'm wearing the same clothes as earlier." you deadpan, gesturing to yourself, having put your clothes back on top of your suit. he grins cheekily as he walks down the stairs, flashing you a wink, "i know that."

he rocks back on his heels.

"so what can i do to show my love for you since i can't kiss you?" he asks, smirking. you roll your eyes, "shut up, richie. we're by ourselves right now, you don't have to do anything." you insist, pulling your hair back from your face. he sighs, groaning as if in pain. "but what if i just want to?"

you freeze, looking to him with wide eyes as your stomach drops. "do you really just want to?" you ask, mostly joking as your heart beat picks up. he takes a few steps towards you, shirt now on as his curls drip slightly. you watch a drop roll down his jaw and you swallow.

"yeah, i really do." he says simply, shrugging. "i’ve realized that i really do want to do all the boyfriend stuff for you."

you let out a shaky laugh, a smile falling onto your face as you raise your eyebrows. "for show?" you ask, and he shakes his head with a small laugh. "no." he says and you stare at him, unmoving.

"so you’re gonna make me say it, huh?" he says with a smile that gives you full-blown butterflies as he pulls you to him. you smile back at him, heart melting into mush at the thought of richie being your real boyfriend.

"i think you should, just to be safe." you say with a grin. he smiles brightly, hand coming up to your cheek. his thumb rubs over your face.

"i love you, y/n." he says softly, looking into your eyes. "i want to be your boyfriend, and i want you to be my girl and i want to do stupid shit with you and have tea parties with munch, and for you to listen to my parent's embarrass me, and to spend all my time with you. i want all the boyfriend stuff, y/n."

you shake your head, "we already do that, rich. i've been yours this whole time." his cheeks turn pink and you love the way he looks so you add, "i love you too, richie. i really do. please be my boyfriend."

he kisses you, then.

it's soft, his lips like rose petals and his kiss like honey and it's quite different from your other kiss - both incredible, but this one with much more intention and love. it melts you completely as richie pulls you closer to him, his lips parting from yours slowly, a smile falling onto his face.

"what do you say then, want to go for a swim?" he asks softly, sending you a smile that is blushy and beautiful. you smile, pecking his lips. "sure, rich."

"c'mon, girlfriend." he says happily, tugging you down the stairs and making you grin stupidly, knowing this time for sure that it's not just for show.

//tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @toziershmozier @simplesammyx @dickology64 @clownsloveyou @moon-shine-baby @daughter-of-the-stars11 @lets-vibe-bro @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @finnskindofwoman @diorbubs @kait-tozier @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @baby-yoda-a \\

#richie tozier x reader #richie x reader #richie tozier smut #losers x reader #losers club x reader #bill denbrough x reader #stanley uris x reader #eddie kaspbrak x reader #my writing

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linkspooky · 4 years

Note

Right now, people are speculating if tomura has lost his humanity which includes his attachment to the league now that he was awakened with his new quirk as a ‘transcendent being’. I wonder how he will interact with his team when he returns? Will he question how the heroes managed to get the jump on them? How will he react to twice’s death? To Dabi letting in a hero spy into their lair and causing this raid and twice’s death? Is the tomura we have seen grow disappeared or is he still the same?

SHIGARAKI TOMURA - A VERY HUMAN VILLAIN

People may question if Shigaraki Tomura has lost his humanity since acquiring AFO’s power, however I would like to point out that it’s a running theme in the manga for characters to frequently question the humanity of Shigaraki and see him as something less than human, or a force that only exists for evil and destruction.

However, despite the fact that the heroes and Shigaraki’s enemies insist that Shigaraki has lost his humanity, the story shows the opposite. As much as Shigaraki has changed over the course of the story, he has also stayed the same.

Shigaraki started out as a kid who wanted to be a hero who saved others, and specifically a kid who would go out of his way to play with the bullied kids. Everyone knows this by now, I would say however growing up in that household shaped Shigaraki to have core values that don’t really change no matter how much he changes as a person.

Number one, the most important thing to Shigaraki is freedom. In a childish way he sees it as the freedom to do whatever he wants, because that is how All For One influenced him.

All for One specifically told Shigaraki that being born with the power to destroy means that he should use it without restraint, and never try to hold himself back because in doing so he’ll only hurt himself. AFO tried to influence him to be an unstable manchild because that would make him more dangerous and fearsome to the general public.

However, Shigaraki’s destruction is always a response. He always destroys for a reason no matter how much he insists his destruction is completely random. One of the key themes of My Hero Academia is that in times of crisis you will remember your origin. Shigaraki’s origin is a household that oppressed him to the extent that he wasn’t allowed to become a hero. All he wanted was someone in that household to agree with him rather than deny him. He wanted people to stop telling him he was wrong.

Shigaraki values freedom, specifically freedom from oppression. Oppression that specifically denies the needs of an individual just because they disrupt society. For example, the opppression that had Himiko’s parents turn abusive on her calling her a demon child because she was born with a strange quirk.

In that way Shigaraki fights for a kind of true liberation, different from what the liberation force fights for. The Meta Liberation Army while wanting to overturn society also repeated several of society’s oppressive attitude, juding people’s worth based entirely on the strength of their quirk whereas Shigaraki is willing to accept people like Compress, and Spinner who do not have super powerful combat efficient quirks and value them just as much as all the other members from his team.

Shigaraki also knows the feelings of someone who has not been saved. He’s reflected on this several times, even as early back as his conversation with Deku. He knows that the way the current society functions, it ignores the plights of victims like him that are either too inconvenient to save.

It’s what Shigaraki says to Deku word for word: “I could hurt you right now and not a single person would come save you. They’ll all walk by and pretend it’s none of their business, because they all think a hero is going to come save them.”

Shigaraki is willing to give people like Twice a chance, even though he was insane and his quirk no longer worked as well as it once did. Not only that, but when people make mistakes Shigaraki never throws them away. Giran is captured and ratted them out, and Shigaraki went to go save them. Twice makes a mistake and because of that Magne is killed, but rather than get angry at Twice, Shigaraki simply asks Twice to do his best to make up for his mistake, and that he’ll be doing his best alongside him.

Shigaraki understands the feelings of: “If only somebody had saved me” better than anyone else in the manga. This is something that even the kids don’t question. The kids in their complete and unwavering faith in the hero system can’t even respond to questions like “Who should you really be saving?”

Shigaraki also goes out of his way to save people even after they’ve made mistakes, or betrayed the league. Giran ratted on them and got nearly every member killed, and yet not only did Shigaraki walk right into a trap to save him, he also took special care to make sure he was alive, and rescued safely when he was in the middle of getting pounded.

The final is also somewhat of a paradox. Shigaraki has been manipulated to think that he hated his family, and wanted to kill everyone.

However, all of Shigaraki’s actions show the opposite. Not only does Shigaraki feel guilt for killing his family several years after the fact. Not only did he intentionally hold back his quirk at first because he was afraid of killing again. The words of his family stayed with him. Shigaraki only ever remembers his family in a mostly positive light.

In his heart, Shigaraki holds himself accountable for what he did to his family even though it was an accident. At the same time, it’s revealed to us in his dream sequence that he already forgives his family for what transpired today, he remembers his grandparents being kind to him, he doesn’t resent his mom for just watching what his family did to him and even reassures her, he tells his sister he doesn’t care that she tattled on him anymore.

His family is someone he can never forget in both senses of the word. He doesn’t forget the times his family household was kind to him, the genuine love his mother, grandparents, and sister all showed to him, and he hasn’t really stopped mourning them ever for a single moment. He even still keeps Nana’s hand, the last hand that wasn’t broken and wears it after his so called “liberation” from his past memories of them. Yet, at the same time he doesn’t allow his family to deny who he is.

Shigaraki is someone who has been influenced by people all of ihs life, his abusive father, AFO, and then all of AFO’s constituents and the other villains he’s fought against so far. However, at the same time Shigaraki has remained the same kid throughout all of this. Always Shimura Tenko. Always the kid who wanted to play with the kids who got bullied. Always the kid resentful he didn’t get saved.

2. Shigaraki is better than what created him

Eri is referred to as a cursed inhuman existence born only to destroy, simply because of the quirk she was born with, completely neglecting who Eri is as a person. Deku however says that just by slightly changing your perspective, you can see how kind and gentle Eri is.

Shigaraki is a character much like this. The people around him, mostly heroes always insist that he’s inhuman and again and again that he can only want destruction because of his quirk. Yet, the people closest to Shigaraki know how kind, and gentle he can be.

So we have characters like All Might, Mr. Completely Ignores Endeavor’s abuse of his own family, constantly saying that someone like Shigaraki can’t possibly have a cause for all of his destruction. Ignoring what Shigaraki says when he tells them that heroes can be violent too just like villains, their violence is just categorized differently.

Shigaraki is continually told he has no reason for wanting to destroy things, that there could be no possible motivation behind his actions. This is something that even AFO himself said, that Shigaraki simply lusted for destruction because he was born that way.

Characters insist again, that Shigaraki isn’t capable of creating anything, or achieving anything because he can only destroy. This is an identity that’s forced on him by his environment ut it’s not who he is at the center of his being. Even when he’s getting the tar beaten out of him by Re-Destro what he thinks is not that he wants to destroy, but rather that he wanted his family to tell him it was okay for him to be a hero.

So we reach the most recent chapter with someone once again asserting that Shigaraki cannot possibly want anything other than to hurt the people around him, and destroy what he can.

Even ENDEAVOR (lol) of all people accuses Shigaraki of not fighting for the right ideals. Yet, Shigaraki has always shown to be fighting for something.

People insist that Shigaraki was just born that way, that he just wants to destroy. Yet, there are very specific environmental factors that shaped him into who he is. Shigaraki who apparently has no reasons for doing the things he does, has the longest backstory in the series (four origin chapters in total if you count Shigaraki Tomura: Distortion). Shigaraki’s line against Endeavor also implies that Shigaraki has been fighting for the same thing from the start. That he’s always had a cause, something to fight for (or maybe even just fight against) and that he simply believed what other people constantly told him.

So, no clearly the All For One quirk being given to Shigaraki has not changed who he is as a person at all. Shigaraki’s thoughts always rest with his friends and his family. Shigaraki’s first literal action upon waking up is to call Machia to his side, and protect the league. Shigaraki’s actions also saved Himiko, because if Machia had not picked her up she likely would have gone on a suicide mission.

So, there is one last point I want to make: The reason the plan is going so wrong right now is precisely because Shigaraki is someone who chooses again and again to put his trust in others. First, it went wrong because not only did he allow Dabi free reign to invite whoever he wanted to the league, but he also trusted Twice with his location.

Shigaraki won’t throw Dabi out of the league for saying that he’s only here to use the league for his own benefit, because Shigaraki has always known this about Dabi and lets him work with the league anyway. Shigaraki is someone who puts his allies before themselves and gives them the freedom to be who they want to be.

Shigaraki has said mutliple times the league can do whatever they want. He’s not really selfishly minded or motivated like AFO is. If anything, Shigaraki is much more likely to sacrifice himself, or put the group’s needs first. The Shigaraki that we’ve seen right now is the same progression of the Shigaraki we’ve always known: he fights on the front lines to draw the heroes away from his friends, he fights himself instead of needlessly risking his own allies, he needs his allies by his side.

The raid happened because of Shigaraki’s trusting nature twice. Not only because he allowed Dabi to invite Hawks to the league, but also Kurogiri’s capture and betrayal someone Shigaraki was genuinely close to and listened to for counsel led to his location at the hospital being ratted out to both Eraserhead and Mic. So it’s not Shigaraki not trusting others that led to the Hospital Raid, but rather it’s because Shigaraki chose to trust others that this is all happening.

YET, when this happened last time with Overhaul Shigaraki didn’t stop trusting others. He didn’t throw Twice out. His choice back then was to take responsibility and trust Twice even more to fix the mistake he made. Which will likely be his response again.

Shigaraki also fights against anyone who tries to control or oppress him the same way his father did once. When AFO tries to physically control his own body, he frees himself of the vestiges.

Shigaraki won’t lose his trust in other people, and won’t lose his close relationship with the league, because Shigaraki has already sustained this kind of loss before. Over and over again. He loses most of the Nomus, he loses Magne, he loses AFO. Yet, at those times when he loses these things Shigaraki’s response is always the same.

Shigaraki is struggling to be better that the environment that created him. Shigaraki’s arc is not one of him losing his humanity, but rather Shigaraki keeping his humanity in the face of constant losses.

His environment is really truly something that should have robbed him of his humanity. There are people like AFO who are out there to make him into a puppet, to rob him of all agency, and identity. Yet, Shigaraki always fights back against those trying to control him and tell him no.

Shigaraki won’t turn on the league, because his connections with the league are what make him human. It’s his connections with others he makes over and over again in the face of his extremely oppressive environment, first with Kurogiri, then with the league that allows him to stay the same at the core of who he is.

While Shigaraki is constantly dehumanized by both the hero system and the villains he fights against, he’s actually one of the most human characters in the whole series. Not only is he very sympathetic and understandable where exactly he is coming from, but he’s also always, always, always, always, struggling against a set of very human flaws.

#Anonymous #mha meta #shigaraki tomura #shimura tenko #shigaraki meta #lov meta #league of villains meta #league of villains #all for one

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there-must-be-a-lock · 4 years

Text

wings & the way down - part 3

Spencer Reid x Derek Morgan

Word Count: 2190 this chapter

Warnings: None, really!

A/N: This fills the “jealousy” square on my @cmbingo card!

Series masterlist is here.

Sunday, January 5 - Spencer

Spencer doesn’t want to stay inside a minute longer than he has to. He can’t stay. He feels like his skin is a few sizes too small, and he’s itching with the discomfort of existing in his own body, and everything that’s rattling around inside his head is fizzing dangerously like bubbles in a shaken bottle of champagne.

So he walks.

This is what he’s done for over a decade now. In the last decade, Spencer has walked every street in this neighborhood more times than he wants to count.

Spencer used to make up stories as he walked. When he was young, they were about the families who lived inside, the snatches of other people’s lives he saw as he passed. Later, he used to picture himself in those houses. He tried to imagine being someone else; who would he be, if he’d grown up in a different home, with a different family? Who would he be, if he was normal?

He tries not to think about that any more. There’s no point being jealous of someone who doesn’t exist.

He turns onto Lake Road, and then he almost turns around.

This is creepy. Isn’t it? It’s creepy as hell. More importantly, why should he care whether Derek wants to see him? For all he knows, Derek didn’t show up at the park either. They’re never going to see each other again. There’s no reason for Spencer to care.

He does care, though.

The flip side of it is: they’re never going to see each other again. What does he have to lose?

There’s something liberating about that thought. Derek doesn’t know him, and better yet, he never saw Spencer get shut in a locker. Derek wasn’t there when Charlie Hankel stole all Spencer’s clothes while he showered after gym class. Derek doesn’t remember any of the things Spencer would like to forget.

Aside from Emily, everyone in Spencer’s class has known him for almost four years now. They all know him a little too well.

Still, his heart is pounding uncomfortably as he passes #8 (big, sturdy mailbox, "the Hotchners”) and #10 (cheerful yellow mailbox, no name) and finally stops at #12 (small, tidy dark green mailbox, with “MORGAN” on the front). He almost turns around there, and then again (three more times) as he walks up the concrete path to the front door.

This feels reckless. Spencer’s not sure what got into him today; he’s never reckless.

He rings the doorbell and bounces on the balls of his feet. It’s one of those doorbells that actually chimes out a little tune, and he can hear it, muffled, inside the house.

Nobody’s home, and that’s fine. It’s fine. Spencer’s just gonna go — well, he’s not going home, but he’s leaving. It’s fine.

But he hears footsteps, and someone is shouting, “Coming, sorry, I thought you said two!”

Then the door is flung open, and Derek is standing there, and his smile drops when he sees who it is. Spencer’s stomach feels like he’s falling from the top of a very tall building.

“Um. Hi?” His voice cracks. He raises one hand in an awkward wave, cheeks burning, and realizes he has no idea what to say. “I just — I figured — um. I wanted to say sorry? Assuming… you even showed up on Friday, which, for all I know you didn’t, but. Believe me, I really really wanted to show up on Friday. And… I don’t know what to say.” His voice trails off and then he admits, “I didn’t plan this far ahead.”

“Yeah, I showed up on Friday,” Derek says quietly. He looks… unsteady, almost. Not sure what he feels.

Spencer looks down at his ratty Chucks and repeats, “I’m sorry.” There’s a long pause, and he can’t bring himself to look up again. “I’ll just— I’ll just go, sorry, this was—”

He’s already turning around when Derek laughs and asks, “Really? You gonna ditch me again?”

“Oh.” Spencer’s so startled he almost loses his balance pivoting to face him again.

Derek’s smiling. It’s a different smile than the one he had on when he answered the door, and it’s tugging at his mouth slowly like he’s not sure why it’s there, but he’s smiling. “You wanna come in?”

“Oh.” Spencer blinks. “Sure.”

There’s music playing from upstairs, hip-hop with a heavy bass beat, and Derek tells him, “Hang on, let me grab that.” He takes the stairs two at a time, and Spencer looks around bemusedly.

The house is so… normal. It’s clean without being overwhelmingly so, and it’s full of light, and all the furniture looks like it was bought new, from a catalog. It’s so painfully normal that Spencer’s stomach twists up in knots. This is exactly the sort of life he used to imagine for himself.

What is he doing here?

“Hey, you okay?” Derek asks, as he comes back down the stairs.

Spencer forces a smile. “Fine, just — having a weird day.”

“My auntie and uncle are at church, so I figured I’d crank up the volume while I could,” Derek says sheepishly, holding a little Bluetooth speaker that was — presumably — the source of the music. “What sort of stuff do you like?”

Spencer shrugs. Most of the music he knows comes from his mom, and he can’t really think about her right now without that cold clenching feeling around his ribcage.

Maybe Derek can see how out of place Spencer feels here, because he leads the way out the back door, over to a big rope hammock strung up between two slim trees in the back of the neat lawn, and he falls back on it almost carelessly, sprawling out while still scrolling through something on the phone.

“What were you listening to before?” Spencer asks.

“Nas. You know him?” He grins up at Spencer, that bright-white dazzling grin, and Spencer perches next to him on the hammock.

“Not at all, but… we can listen to that, if you want.”

Derek sets the speaker on the ground, loud enough to hear but not too loud to talk over, and Spencer listens curiously as he lays back, hands folded on his stomach, looking up at the clear blue sky through the leaves.

“When I stand somebody up, I don’t usually come to their house after to apologize,” Derek says tentatively. “Which… makes me think you might actually have a good excuse.”

Spencer turns his head, and Derek is mirroring his position, looking right back at him. Their arms are just a couple inches apart, and Spencer feels acutely aware of his body.

“I sorta had a… family crisis,” Spencer tells him. “My mom — we had to go out of town, and we didn’t get back until this morning.”

He braces himself for questions, but Derek just half-smiles and nods slightly, looking back up at the sky. “Listen to this bit right here.” He kicks his foot idly, and the hammock rocks back and forth, lazy and gentle.

“That’s a remarkably complex internal rhyme,” Spencer says, and Derek laughs out loud.

“A+ literary analysis.”

Spencer blushes. He’s dealt with a lot of teasing in his life, but this is so, so different. Derek’s elbow nudges against his, and when Spencer turns his head, he sees a broad smile that gives him butterflies.

“I like it,” he says shyly.

They’re quiet for a moment, listening. All that strange restlessness has faded, and Spencer likes it here; he likes the fence that surrounds most of the yard, hiding them from view, and he likes the pressure of the rope digging into his back, and he likes the way Derek looks at him.

They listen in silence until the end of the song, and then Derek asks, “What’s your favorite book?”

“I don’t know if I can choose a favorite. What’s yours?”

He says it almost sheepishly: “Mother Night. Vonnegut.”

“That’s an interesting choice,” Spencer says, thinking it over.

“How do you mean?”

“We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be,” Spencer quotes.

Derek makes a face and looks up at the sky. “What, you gonna psychoanalyze me now?”

“Why? What do you think it says about you?” Spencer counters, before he can think better of it.

Derek laughs and says, begrudgingly, “That maybe I can identify with that. Pretending for the sake of self-preservation.”

“I don’t know you all that well, but you don’t seem — I don’t know. You don’t seem like the kind of person who would need to pretend.” He wonders if it’s too much, if he’s being presumptuous. Derek looks self-conscious now.

“But doesn’t everybody do that, to some extent? I mean… trying to fit in. Everybody pretends a little bit.”

“I don’t, really,” Spencer tells him. “I wish I could, but… I don’t really know how to be anybody else.” There’s a note of bitterness in it that he can’t quite hide.

“Is it weird that I’m jealous?”

“You really shouldn’t be,” Spencer tells him. He mulls that over for a second and adds, “I do pretend when it comes to… how I feel. I don’t like showing when I’m upset. It doesn’t work the same way, though, because pretending I’m fine really doesn’t ever make me fine.”

Derek snorts. “Yeah, I feel you.”

“I imagine who I could be. I imagine what my life could be like somewhere else, or as someone else,” Spencer admits, which isn’t something he’d usually just say like that, but talking to Derek doesn’t seem to have the same rules as talking to most people. “It’s not the same as pretending, but... “

“Huh.”

Spencer feels strange — oddly vulnerable and raw — and maybe Derek does too, because he’s got a soft, wistful expression on his face when he turns his head. They look at each other for a moment. Spencer knows he must be blushing.

Then Derek’s phone rings, loud and startling through the speaker, and Derek seems to shake himself before fumbling with the buttons.

“Hey,” he says, and pauses. “Oh — no, that’s fine. Cool. See you soon.”

Which sounds like Spencer’s cue to go. He doesn’t really want to.

He sits up, tucking his hair behind his ears. “I should —”

“My friend,” Derek says, and he actually sounds disappointed. “A friend is coming over, sorry, I didn’t — you could stay, if you want?”

Derek’s been here for how long now? And he already has more friends in the area than Spencer’s made in years?

“Nah, it’s fine, I should get back to —” To my life. Because this isn’t mine, as much as I’d like it to be. “— home.”

“Can we hang out again sometime?” Derek asks. The hammock is sagging in the middle, where their weight is pulling it down, and when Derek sits up they slide closer, the sides of their legs press together, warm and distracting.

“You’re staying here?” Spencer asks, more breathless than he’d like.

Derek smiles. “Yeah, for a while.”

Before Spencer can ask questions, Derek’s passing him the phone, and he taps his number in carefully.

“That’s me.” He clears his throat.

“I’ll text you,” Derek says, typing, and a second later, Spencer feels his own phone vibrate in his pocket.

Maybe it’s all the talk about pretending — maybe if Spencer pretends to be confident, he will be, someday — maybe it’s the recklessness that brought him here in the first place — something possesses Spencer, and in a moment of courage (or stupidity) he leans over and kisses Derek, lips brushing the corner of his mouth, right where his smile curves up.

Spencer’s so shocked at his own daring that he can’t really take it in; he gets the briefest impression of soft, and then he’s pulling back, ice-cold with the adrenaline rush.

They both freeze for a second, blinking at each other. Just as Derek shifts, opening his mouth to say something, Spencer jumps to his feet.

“Bye,” he chokes out, and turns, fighting the urge to run.

“See you soon, pretty boy,” Derek calls after him.

Spencer’s hands are shaking as he walks quickly around the side of the house. He stares intently down at his shoes, because he’s not going to do something like a little Snoopy dance of joy until he’s sure he’s on the next block and fully out of view.

He almost collides with someone on the sidewalk; he gets an impression of blonde hair and pink shoes as she squeaks with alarm and jumps out of his way.

“Sorry,” Spencer says breathlessly, without stopping.

She chirps out a cheerful, “No biggie!”

When Spencer looks back, she’s ringing the Morgans’ doorbell, and there’s this awful bitter thing in the back of his throat as he realizes that that’s Derek’s “friend.”

It makes perfect sense, though. What did he expect?

Spencer swallows his envy and keeps walking.

#cmbingo21 #moreid #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #derek morgan #spencer reid

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jessicalynnhepner · 3 years

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What Every Parent Needs to Know About Child Sex Trafficking

For most police officers, this scene is a familiar one—a young kid gets mixed up with the wrong person and finds him or herself on the wrong side of the law. In virtually every case, this would be the end of the story. The young girl would get a slap on the wrist and be released into her parents’ custody where they could, presumably, set her straight. And, at this point in our story, Officer Scott was prepared to do just that—to trust the overwhelming testimony of prior experience and process this girl out so that he could get on with his shift. But, something was different this time… Discerning the SignsAs Officer Scott sits down to file his paperwork, he’s reminded of last Tuesday’s roll call. His Sergeant, having recently attended a training seminar on human trafficking, used that day to teach his officers how to identify potential trafficking situations. All of a sudden, alarm bells start going off in Scott’s mind: The Fear — Sure, a kid’s going to be afraid of the consequences. But, this girl seems to fear for her physical safety. She’s acting like there’s something worse waiting for her than an angry mom and dad at home. The Stolen Merchandise – Why did she need a Red Bull and a pack of condoms? Scott recalled that traffickers use starvation to control their victims. Usually, their only choice is to steal the bare necessities. The Boyfriend – Per the owner’s description, this guy was at least 10 years older than she. What were they doing there together in the first place? A New ApproachWith these things in mind, Scott calmly invites the young lady out of holding and brings her to a quieter part of the station, away from prying eyes and menacing glances. She looks cold, so Scott hands her a sweatshirt. As he does, he notices a small tattoo of a crown with the name ‘Hugo’ scrawled beneath it—likely a brand to show who ‘she belongs to.’ They start to chat. This time, he speaks less like a cop and more like a friend. Clearly, she hasn’t had anything to eat for quite a while. Moments later, a female officer appears with a bag from McDonald’s. The three make their way to a private lounge. As they talk, the girl lets her guard down. Scott listens as she describes her broken home life, struggles with friends at school, and her constant search for belonging. All the while, her phone continues to buzz. “Your boyfriend?” “Yes. He just wants to make sure I’m ok.” He really is a great guy, she explains. He’s been there for her when her parents weren’t. He shows her the affection and attention she needs. She feels protected. He loves her……only, sometimes he makes her do things—things she would ordinarily never do. TrustHaving earned at least a glimmer of trust, Scott asks if she would slide her phone over. Reluctantly, she does, and he begins to scroll through the text messages. Wisely, Scott checks his emotions before he begins to read. It doesn’t take him long to realize these are not the supportive words of a loving boyfriend. No, they’re the verbal assaults of a degenerate thug bent on belittling her into submission. Scott does his best to hide his disgust as he reads about threatened consequences for ‘missed quotas.’ Horrified, he sees insults that no human being should ever have to endure, capped off by threats against her little sister for talking to the cops. Officer Scott thanks the young woman for her trust and politely excuses himself to make a call. He can read the writing on the wall: this girl is clearly a victim of trafficking. She needs someone with much more experience than him to help regain her freedom. He picks up the phone, dials his Sergeant, and together, they get to work. What Made the Difference?This story, though generalized in some ways, is rooted in the accounts we hear from police officers every day. The first part of the story is common enough. But, what about the second when, in Scott’s eyes, the girl goes from ‘shoplifter’ to ‘trafficking victim’? Not so much. So, how do we get from A to B? How do we help police officers learn

to look at each ‘punk kid’ as a potential victim, to ask deeper questions, and find the real story lies beneath the surface? Just as in Officer Scott’s story, that turning point comes when an officer recognizes the signs, trusts his or her gut, and decides to unravel that thread. It all starts with that one officer—a soldier on the front lines of the underground battle to set captives free. This can only happen when officials at every level of law enforcement learn to detect the signs and receive the tools they need to bring trafficking victims out of the cruel darkness and into the liberating light of day. National Human Trafficking Law Enforcement Training ProgramAt ERASE, one of the most impactful things we do is train police departments so that they produce more officers like the one in this story. It’s our mission to educate officers to detect the warning signs, identify potential victims, and safely lead them to freedom. Your donations make this possible. Source Child Sex Trafficking-Not My Child Mom shakes her head and Dad raises his voice. Their 16-year old daughter storms up the stairs. As the bedroom door slams, she collapses on the bed with phone in hand. She’s ready to vent her frustrations one status update at a time. With every angst-laden tap of the keyboard, she lays bare her soul: “Nobody here gets me.” “No one understands!” “I feel unloved.” 📷An hour later, a boy from the next town over reaches out. She doesn’t know him, but they’ve got a few mutual friends, so it’s probably no big deal. He’s cute and thoughtful. And, he seems to understand what she’s going through better than anyone else. For the next two weeks, they exchange messages every day. He’s sweet, a digital shoulder to cry on when nobody else seems to care. They decide to meet up in person, so she borrows Dad’s car “to meet some friends at the mall.” That night, Daddy’s little girl doesn’t come home for dinner and Mom sits up all night. The next morning, they call the police. An officer searches her computer and finds evidence of the girl’s new relationship. Turns out, the boy she thought she knew didn’t exist. And, just like that, she’s gone.Reality check about child sex trafficking At ERASE, we hear heartbreaking tales like this all too frequently. Stories from average families dealing with everyday stresses when out of nowhere, their child is lured right out from under them. Whenever we tell these stories, the most common response goes something like this: “Child trafficking is something that happens to those types of kids out there. We live in a great community and our neighbors are good people who look out for one another. Something like that could never happen to one of my children.” This is the kind of response that makes us cringe. If only parents knew what we know, they wouldn’t be so quick to ignore this real and pervasive threat. Sadly, that very ignorance is what traffickers count on most when looking for children to target. The danger is far more imminent than most parents recognize. If we’re going to protect our children, we need to be clear on the real threats child traffickers impose. Traffickers are Smart, Motivated, and Tech-SavvyA dark and horrific market has grown up around the purchase and sale of human beings. Researchers estimated that, in 2007, Atlanta’s underground sex economy alone brought in $290 million. Even in a far less “saturated” market, sex trafficking in San Diego enables a pimp to pull in over $11,000 per week. Fast forward 10 years and there’s no reason to think that number hasn’t grown. Innocent children aren’t given a pass here. Instead, the most vulnerable among us are routinely bought and sold like property—many of them up to 15 times a day. With business booming, traffickers are working harder than ever to keep up with demand. Leaving no stone unturned, they use social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and Snapchat, to research, target, and groom children for sexual exploitation. In fact, 77% of sex trafficking victims

report having been initially approached online. Just as a skilled marketer uses sophisticated keyword searches to identify his audience, traffickers monitor social media for anything at all that would suggest an easy target:Children with social media profiles open to public viewing Teenagers posting introspective status updates about feelings of insecurity Boys and girls who are venting about arguments with their parents Like a lion crouched in his thicket, a predator will scan through lines of text looking for vulnerable children to drag off into the tall grass. How many of those lines will have come from one of your children? Yes, your child can be a victim of sex traffickingThe children that traffickers rip from their happy homes aren’t pretend characters on television or disembodied faces from the evening news. They’re our kids, the ones we work hard to raise and the ones we hope to see grow up happy and healthy. They’re the kids we teach to be smart, to mind their surroundings, and never talk to strangers. And yet, we give them free reign to explore every dark corner of the internet via their cell phone. We must do betterLittle more than half of parents closely monitor their children’s online activity. So, when a stranger asks to connect on Snapchat, it’s nearly an even shot that no one will be looking over that kid’s shoulder. You can count on a child trafficker to take that bet. Do you know which platforms your children are using or who they connect with online? Do they have any secret accounts and how would you find out if they did? If someone asked to meet in person, would they do it? Can you be sure? These questions may seem intrusive and even overbearing. However, considering the reality of child trafficking in the United States, we have to ask these questions. Every day, thousands of children disappear into slavery. We’d like to hope our kids could never be victims but the facts simply don’t allow us that option. Understanding the facts of child trafficking is the first and most important step in prevention. There is HopeGood people around the world are standing up and fighting back against this great moral evil. You don’t have to live in constant fear for your children. The story we shared at the beginning of this post doesn’t have to be your story. And with some common sense and the will to step intentionally into your kids’ digital lives, you can protect them from becoming a victim of sex trafficking. The question is: will you? At ERASE, we want to educate parents on how best to protect their children from online predators. Please take a look at our tips and best practices pages to see how you can teach your children to be safe online.Juvenile Delinquent or Victim of Human Trafficking? Blog Story of a Human Trafficking Victim It’s midnight. Officer Scott pulls his patrol car into the lot of a small, 24-hour convenience store. As he approaches, he peers through the decal-laden glass door to see a middle-aged man struggling to restrain an agitated 16-year old girl. The store owner had caught this young woman and her boyfriend stuffing items into a small handbag. Her companion—a ‘white man in his late 20’s’—had bolted out the door without so much as a backward glance. The last thing on Officer Scott’s mind was “human trafficking victim”. Scott had seen this before. Some young teenager, looking for thrills, decides to pocket a few items from the local bodega and gets grabbed by the watchful owner. As he escorts the girl to his police car, Scott’s treated to an earful. She can’t stop going on about what a jerk he is, how he had violated her rights, and how much trouble she’d be in if he didn’t let her go right away. “Just wait until I call your parents,” he thinks. 📷 The Same Routine When they arrive at the station, Scott walks this young woman to his desk. She can hear the snide remarks of a few men handcuffed to chairs nearby. As they leer conspicuously at her, she shrinks further into herself. Scott starts in on his typical line of questioning: name,

age, address, and so on. The entire time, her phone buzzes with one text message after another. She begs Scott to let her reply, but he refuses. “There’ll be plenty of time to talk to your parents later.” “I’m not worried about them,” she snaps back. “They don’t give a crap about me, anyway. They’re too busy arguing to even notice I’m around.” Not sure what to make of that outburst, Scott begins to sort through the items she had attempted to steal: a sleeve of Hostess Cup Cakes, a Red Bull, and a box of condoms. “Must be one heck of a boyfriend to leave you there like that, huh?” “You wouldn’t understand. He loves me. He takes care of me.” Angry and frustrated by this girl’s bad attitude and ignorance about that poor excuse for a boyfriend, Officer Scott escorts her to a holding cell and prepares to process her out.Is This the End of the Story?

https://whateveryparentshouldknowaboutcps.blogspot.com/2020/08/what-every-parent-needs-to-know-about.html

#Child Sex Trafficking

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beauty-grace-outer-space · 4 years

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Ok... update.

My dad came home Thursday night, on Christmas Eve, be wouldn’t look at or talk to us. He accidentally entered a room we were in (not knowing we were in there) and immediately just turned around and walked back out. That night, while my mom was still up and about getting ready for bed, he turned off all the lights. My mom got the dog and came to sleep in my room with me.

The next morning, he still wasn’t talking to us. We ended up each in a different room, doing nothing. I waited until about 1PM and then thought, “You know what, if he’s just going to pout downstairs all day, mom and I are going to have Christmas” and I moved all of my mine and my mom’s gifts into my room (where I have a tree). I made cookies, and set up a little snacks platter. I turned on Christmas lights and Christmas music. I put the Yule Log burning up on my tv, and I told my mom to come with me.

When she saw it all, she teared up and said, “I just don’t know what the right thing is to do.”

At this point, my dad decided he wanted to talk. We went out to the living room and he proceeded to tell us that we “really hurt him” by not “checking on where he was the last two days” and “now taking away Christmas” when “he didn’t do anything wrong” and that he “wanted us to apologize and acknowledge that we could have stopped that at any time if we had just stopped when he told us to” and that while all of the destruction to the house was “childish behavior”, it’s really our fault for “pushing him to that point.”

And I immediately said, “Well, that’s not going to happen, so.”

At this point, it devolved into an argument of him saying the same thing over and over again and me saying, “You can say whatever you want, but you storming through the house breaking shit is in no way my fault.”

He tried a lot of different tactics, “This is just what men do” to which I replied that I didn’t know anyone else who’s dad got angry, threw a glass at them, punched a hole in the wall, knocked the closet doors off the hinges, bailed for two days, and then had the gall to come back and demand an apology.

He reiterated that it was my fault it happened and, “what did I expect when I push him to that point and then don’t stop when he asks me to?” I told him it wouldn’t have mattered what I did, because we always wind up back at this point anyway, but I am not responsible for his behavior. When he tried to push it I said, “How many times have you reduced me to screaming and tears and I have never once broken anything in response.”

He tried to get my mom on his side, telling her he was hurt that she didn’t even try to stop me from pushing him like that, and I told him to leave her out of it because a: she didn’t say a word, I was the one “pushing him” and b: that’s part of the problem, that he doesn’t view me as an adult. I repeated that I’m 28 years old and no one gets to tell me when I’m allowed to speak, how I’m allowed to speak, etc. I can say what I want when I want, and while that sometimes may have consequences, it doesn’t justify domestic abuse.

At that point he scoffed and started in with the usual, that I’m just a liberal idiot and I’ve got these misinformed ideas about everything and that wasn’t abuse, you should see what other men do to their families. I just cut him off and sarcastically said, “Oh so that makes it ok. You didn’t hit me, you just threw a glass at me, ok then.”

Then he tells me that he didn’t throw it at me, if he had thrown it at me, it would have hit me. I said, (again sarcastically) “Oh good, very reassuring.”

I told him that there is nothing he can say that will make me believe that what happened was my fault, and that he needs to know that he crossed a line, because what happened was inexcusable bullshit and I will never forgive it.

This continued for a while, he tried to pretend that he’s kept a lock on his temper for 30 years and that I somehow just hit the trigger point and it’s my fault. I told him that he does this shit all the time. He asked for examples. I gave him some. He told me they never happened and that I was just making things up in my theatrical brain again.

My mom stepped in and said that no, he really does do this stuff all the time (to lesser degrees).

He somehow decided to talk about the Black Lives Matter poster I have up in my window and how embarrassing it is for him, and how his friends have all told him they would have kicked me out of the house but he won’t censor me like that, etc. and I told him that he still does, all the time. Because we’re either only allowed to agree with him, or to sit in silence, but never to say what we think. If we say nothing, he gets mad. If we say what we think, he gets mad. We’re not allowed to speak, and that is censorship.

And then he pulled out the cliche, tried and true: “In my own fucking house, that I fucking pay for, I get to say what I think, and if you don’t like it, you can go out there and think whatever you want.”

And I said, “I am, I have an interview tomorrow for an apartment.”

After a lot of this, he said we should just stop because clearly we’re never going to get anywhere, and I told him that he’s been saying that for years and look where we are, so what’s the alternative.

After like two hours of this back and forth, I got him to agree to anger management because my mom chimed in and said that, yes, he’s always angry about something and it’s miserable, and that she and I basically walk on eggshells about everything from shows we watch to conversations being had to decorating the house to music we listen to, the list goes on and on.

He told me not to “put myself in a financially stressful situation” by moving out when he’s going to work on his issues and “I can’t afford it”. I told him that I can afford it and while I can appreciate that he’s willing to work on, not to do it for me to do it for my mom and their marriage, because I’m done. I ended up sobbing and basically just blubbered out that I’m done, I’m exhausted, and I feel like as long as I’m here the tension is going to be here because he and I are such fundamentally different people. He tried a few comments about “when you make a real budget you’ll see--” etc. but I’ve done the math, I’ve looked at it with my mom, my mom is 100% on board with whatever I want to do and willing to cosign things if needed (though I doubt it) and I’m slowly making my peace with it. And I told them to look into marriage counseling.

I’ve got an interview tonight for one apartment that I love, and another person looking for a roommate replied to me this morning, so I’ve got a few options. Hopefully I get the first one, because it’s less than 5 minutes away and my mom already said she’s happy to meet up with me daily if needed (which sounds insane but honestly my mom is my favorite person in the world and my best friend). I sat her down and told her to be really honest with me and to tell me what she needed to happen because I’d bail on getting an apartment and get a place with her in a heartbeat. She said she’s ok, and actually super shocked and impressed that my dad agreed to anger management, and apparently he pulled her aside later and asked if they needed to look into marriage counseling and asked her to let him know if they did because he’ll do it.

We ended up opening Christmas presents around 5PM, and eating spaghetti for dinner, and then I hit a point of such total exhaustion that I physically could not stop crying. from like 7-10 I was just bawling. I asked my mom to come sit with me and watch a show so I could try to calm down and go to sleep, and I drank some water and took a sleep aid.

And now it is morning, and the tension in the house has noticeably decreased, and I’m am still so tired I can barely function. But I’m probably moving within the next few weeks, and I’m trying to be excited about that.

#abuse tw #domestic violence tw #an update #long post #not trek #it speaks

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asgardianthot · 5 years

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Hunting Season (sambucky) – Part 3

Series Masterlist

A/N: I know I promised this update over a week ago, and I’m sorry it took so long:/ I’ve felt really down for the past few days, I’m having a hard time with online classes and with my lack of serotonin lol. This was not my greatest week and I suspect it’s got to do with the quarantine. I know a lot of us are having a hard time coping with everything and it can be very stressful and draining. We’re all struggling to find the energy to do what we love, and *not* seizing our free time to create or be productive can make us feel very frustrated or disappointed – I just want you to know it’s okay to seize your free time to just rest, even if you haven’t done anything exhausting per se. Emotional draining is part of the global situation, and you have every right to simply exist. People are dying or losing loved ones – I think existing is more than enough right now.

Words: 3106

Summary: A shitty guy has entered the chat. You know who.

Bedtime had come, and Sam followed Bucky to their assigned room. It was, apparently, the one he had been using ever since he and Rebecca were old enough to stop sharing bunk beds. When Rumlow came into the picture, the family allowed the jolly couple to share the queen-sized bed. Hence, that was the set-up for Sam and Bucky.

"Yeah, I forgot to mention." Bucky apologized as they shut the door behind them.

The entire house seemed to have gone silent at that time of the night, making them feel like they should speak in a lower tone than usual.

"It's fine." Sam brushed it off while he kicked off his shoes near the door.

"Nah, man, I can sleep on the divan." Bucky shook his head, "I'll go get some blankets."

The last thing he wanted was to put Sam in any more uncomfortable situations. He was already in the most uncomfortable position anyone could ask of their friend, and Bucky felt guilty every single second of their stay, which had only lasted for less than a day so far.

"Dude, it's fine." Sam insisted, "Not like we've never shared a bed before."

Although they effectively had spent a number of after-parties in the same bed or the same couch, this setup felt a lot more intimate, somehow. Maybe it was the silk sheets, or the elegant shade of white which adorned the room, or the dim nightstand lights that made it all feel so cozy. Maybe it had to do with the fact that that's how boyfriends sleep, and them having to pretend to have that dynamic. Still, Sam wouldn't agree to Bucky's solution.

"Yeah, but it's seven nights." Bucky reminded him with a wince.

"If I get tired of you I'll send your ass to the divan." Sam ended the topic with that, stretching his arms to communicate his deep need of going to bed already, "I just wanna get some sleep, it's been a long* day."

Bucky snorted, "I told you." He smirked as he opened his bag to find his pajamas.

Sam sat on the edge of the bed. He had, in fact, agreed to this insanity. Clues and riddles and family drama and money*. He was there to help his best friend through a tough time, and that was his primary concern, but if he ever got too tired of the Barnes' crap, he could always remember the gold at the end of the rainbow. He let a loud sigh, almost like he was finally dropping off the weight of the 'boyfriend' act, and allowing himself to look exhausted. He dramatically dropped to the bed on his back.

"Two millions, right?" he raised an eyebrow at Bucky.

The appellee nodded, "Two millions."

Day 2

One of the many responsibilities the Barnes family had was continuously being good guests, which meant inviting relatives and neighbors and co-workers to spend a day or two in the lake house. Most of them had their own vacation residence nearby, or were vacation-buddies who could hop on their boats and grab lunch with the Barnes. Only a few guests would actually join the house accommodations and spend time with them. It was the case of a friend of Nana, one of Colin's co-workers, Aunt Ida's new boyfriend and distant cousin who would be spending the night, according to what Winnifred said during breakfast.

Sam had a hard time processing the fact that they had all that extra room for futile acquaintances; in fact, he very subtly lashed out at Bucky for allowing his family to set their staff in small bedrooms behind the kitchen when he had such luxuries. Bucky, head hanging low at the empty breakfast table, explained that even if he had Sam's revolutionary momentum and eloquence, his parents would never listen. 'I'm actually the last person who could change their entitled, outdated mentality', was the exact finishing sentence.

Sam once again got that sour reminder that he had to portray something for Bucky's parents. He had to pretend to be okay with the way Winnifred spoke to the maid through hand gestures instead of polite words. He had to pretend to act like he knew what the hell those big New York impresarios were talking about during the first tray of appetizers. Hell, he didn't even know that appetizers came in successions and that those successions were called 'trays', until now.

Most importantly, and at the moment Sam was standing in that big yard with freshly cut grass and a lake view, he had to pretend to belong. He had to walk among senior citizens with more money than they could spend in the few years they had left, young folk who looked like they had too much access to their daddy's bank accounts, and women who spoke exactly like Winnifred, as if different tones or voice inflexions belonged to a lesser class. Sam had to meet them all, and he had to act like he didn't feel as foreign as he'd ever felt.

"You're a saint, Sam." Bucky sneaked up on him and spoke in his ear, standing behind the lost man, "You can stop greeting wealthy dinosaurs now."

Sam realized he had done more than what was asked of him, and so, he dropped his shoulders in retreat. He turned around and gifted Bucky one tired smile.

"You okay?" the latter grabbed his shoulder tenderly, with concern, "This was too much, wasn't it? You should've called in sick like I-"

"I'm not traumatized by rich people, Bucky." Sam rolled his eyes, "I'm dating you, 'member?"

The verb caught Barnes by surprise, until he immediately remembered he meant the farce they were putting up for the family. However, during that millisecond of doubt, it felt like Sam was implying something with a double meaning that Bucky wasn't entirely sure disturbed him. In other words, he felt like Sam was flirting, but obviously, he was quickly reminded of the situation.

"I was just thinking what my mama would have said in a place like this." Sam confessed with a soft laughing tone.

The image was pretty funny. In the few times Bucky had spent time with Darlene, he was overly captivated by her strong personality. She was so caring, just like her son, but patience and subtlety weren't her strong suit.

"She would have been so... justifiably rude to all of them." Bucky dared to guess.

Sam chuckled, "Yeah."

"Would've ruined the mood for everybody." Bucky joined in the loud laughter.

The two were still smiling to themselves when Bucky's mom and Rebecca approached them, both holding cocktails in their hand.

"Whatcha talking about, lovebirds?" Rebecca teased them.

As much as she knew she couldn't raise the curtain to their farce, out of love for her brother, but also because engaging in a hassle like that one would take her out. That didn’t mean she couldn’t make this the most annoying family holiday Bucky had ever had.

"Mind your business." He replied dryly.

"James." The sibling’s mother reprimanded Bucky’s rudeness.”

"I was just messing around, ma’am." Sam jumped in his defense, effectively stopping the potential fight. "I'm not used to so much... elegance."

"You mean all these old and dull people in fancy clothes?" the woman suggested her own disappointment regarding her guests, and nodding happily when she noticed Sam’s surprised grin. "Trust me, lots of us have a hard time adjusting to them."

"Some of us think we shouldn't adjust, but the other way around." Rebecca reproached, which earned her a single head tilt from her less confrontational mother.

Wilson took the opportunity to be the lovable, polite boyfriend, "Are you having trouble with these men too, Ms. Barnes?" he asked with a gracious smile that accentuated his cheekbones.

"I wouldn't call it trouble." She, expectedly, diminished her statement to avoid being interpreted as discontent.

Rebecca gave up on the eye-rolling to start using an annoyed, distant glare. As much as she had always been closest to her mother than Bucky ever had been, their ways of dealing with their life and other people were very different, along with their worldviews.

"They're bigots, big surprise." The young woman used a rude sarcastic tone, yet got no reaction from her Winnifred, who was now decided in de-aggravating the topic of conversation.

"Our friends tend to be on the conservative side.” She said before waving her hand in her own defense, “Don't get me wrong, I'm no liberal."

Bucky snorted, "No one was thinking that, mom."

Sam merely pressed his lips together in order to stop a smirk from becoming too visible.

"But lots of them are very behind time.” Winnifred continued nonetheless, “Treating their wives like housemaids, interrupting me..."

The irony was so palpable, all three younger characters could barely conceal their own personalized expressions, which varied from shock to laughter, because Winnifred Barnes treated her housemaids like lesser humans and interrupted everyone. Sam gave Rebecca a look, which she replied with a nod that implied ‘I know’. She then drew a zip line across her mouth for him to drop it.

It had also been Winnifred herself who stood by George when Rebecca went to a Women's March with her friends and the married couple believed it to be 'too dangerous' because who knows what kind of people can be in a march! Giving credit where credit was due, however, Winnifred had her daughter's back when a family friend grabbed her butt in her sixteenth birthday, and Rebecca, being the strongly voiced person that she’s always been, let everyone know ‘what kind of perverts his father hung out with’.

"Yes, they’re keen on the rich male supremacy around here.” Rebecca sighed, unable to keep listening to her mom pretend to know what she was talking about, and willing to change the subject to go back to bullying her brother, “It's a bummer. So, guys..."

"Oh." Winnifred suddenly said, fixating her eyes on something in particular, past her company.

"What?"

The three followed Winnifred’s view and found a man most of them recognized perfectly. The dark hair gelled back, the expensive but tasteless clothes, and the way he stood his ground like he owned it. It was a look that had once enamored Bucky, but it seemed more like a horrible nightmare right now.

As soon as Sam noticed James’ breath hitch and his face freeze, Sam knew that it was Brock Rumlow. He had only seen the devil through social media pictures, and he wasn’t very recognizable from afar, but the reaction it brought Bucky was hard to miss.

Apparently, Rebecca was even more upset than Sam about the man’s presence.

"What the fuck is he doing here?" she let out with deep rage.

"Rebecca!" her mother prioritized the lady’s manners over the downright astonishing situation.

Rebecca ignored it, "Who invited him?" she whisper-shouted.

"I believe it was your uncle Teddy.” As soon as the woman realized everyone’s stare in reaction to her nonchalant way of speaking, she placed a hand on her son’s arm, “He didn't know, James. What was he supposed to do? Un-invite him?"

"I'm lost. Why is he here?" Sam cut in.

"Oh, don’t worry about him, Samuel!” She gave him a very inappropriate smile for the occasion, “He's a family friend. His father and George are business buddies."

Sam realized he had missed a big part of the information. He knew Bucky had met Rumlow through family contacts, and that they have known of each other’s existence for a couple of years before they actually got to know each other. What he had no idea of, was the close relationship between the Barnes and Rumlow fathers. Had he known, he would have expected the ex-boyfriend to show up, but judging by his fake boyfriend’s state, Bucky wasn’t expecting it either. Probably because he was underestimating Brock’s maliciousness and hoping he wouldn’t invade his space.

Sam spoke directly to Bucky, using a calming tone, "You wanna go somewhere else?" he offered an out.

Unfortunately, before Bucky could reply, Rumlow saw him and began walking directly to him.

Bucky took a sharp breath, "Too late now."

Nobody said a word until Brock joined them.

"Ma'am.” He politely nodded in Winnifred’s direction, then turned to his former partner with a false smile, “James. Care for a walk?"

Bucky knew he was speaking a lot more formally than usual, because Winnifred was there. Care for a walk was just a fancy way of spitting out ‘let’s talk’, and Bucky despised that offer with every fiber of his being, but he wasn’t able to respond. His tongue was tied. He clenched his jaw, feeling powerless, and was rescued by Sam, who extended his hand.

"Samuel Wilson.” He gave Brock a big, play-pretend grin, “And you are...?"

It wasn’t a surprise that Rumlow was being rude, as he had been ignoring Sam and Rebecca’s presence like they weren’t even there.

"Brock Rumlow." He shook the man’s hand.

When Sam dropped his hand away from Rumlow’s, he took Bucky’s in his, as a painfully obvious demonstration of their romantic involvement. Brock lowered his eyes towards the intertwined fingers and bit the inside of his cheek, before nodding with a partially amused expression on his face.

"I take it you're..." Brock tempted, earning an affirmative look from Sam, "And I take it you know who I am."

Wilson tilted his head, "You just told me, you're Brock."

"This doesn't have to be awkward.” The unwelcome man smiled, glancing at Winnifred to make sure she approved of his manners, but even she kept looking away, “We both know James and I-"

"Look, Brock.” Wilson cut him off, “Nobody here really cares. Do you care, love?" He asked Bucky.

Bucky couldn’t help but smirk at Sam’s successful act, "Irrelevant." He agreed.

"Unless... it matters to you, Brock.” Sam frowned sadly, putting up the most condescending act he had ever pulled, “In that case, I'm sorry if this is painful."

If looks could talk, Rumlow’s would have stated a very easy ‘fuck you’.

"We'll see ourselves out, actually. Nice to meet you." He said, then turned away.

Bucky gifted his ex a fake host smile, "Have a good one."

As soon as the couple went back inside the house, Bucky let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He murmured grateful words as the noise of the gathering outside became muffled, and Sam squeezed his hand, which he was still holding. As a matter of fact, they didn’t let go of each other for a while.

"I brought us some food." Sam announced when he reached the top of the stairs.

Bucky had hid himself in the small living room which welcomed guests to the second floor. He was sitting on the couch, watching crappy TV, avoiding the large amount of people talking downstairs.

"You sneaked lunch up here?" He asked with surprise.

"Yes, Bucky, I stole two plates of crab risotto and an apple sorbet.” Sam mocked his naivety with sarcasm, “I made sandwiches in the kitchen, you doofus."

Bucky usually felt less than Sam at many things. Sam was smarter, he was resilient, he was hardworking and he was happier than him, most of the times. Seeing Sam in his messed up world only fomented that, because Sam was a fish out the water among the Barnes and their guests, and still, he glowed brighter. He was better than anyone Bucky had grown up with, and certainly better than himself. That’s why Sam had probably asked the kitchen staff if he could bother them for a second while he made two sandwiches, and he probably talked to them the entire time, and he probably let them speak longer than he did because he didn’t want to seem rude.

Bucky just knew that’s what he had done, while, if he were by himself, he probably would have skipped lunch and snacked on leftovers later, when no one was looking.

"What did I do to deserve you?" he sighed, receiving the plate Sam had prepared him.

The appreciation made Sam feel fuzzy. As much as he loved helping Bucky because he was his best friend, he never wanted Bucky to depend on his help. And yet, this time, he liked the idea of being needed by him.

He shook off the idea and sat on the couch, "That's a good question."

"I think God sent you when he saw how shitty everyone else in my life is."

Wilson laughed, shifting closer to Bucky’s and taking a big bite of his sandwich.

"Becca ain't so bad.” He remarked with his mouth full, “She comes around eventually."

"Yeah, she does." James agreed, thinking of how protective the young woman had become as soon as she saw the man who hurt her brother.

"You ever get tired of getting all your parents' shit when you watch her get away with stuff?"

Bucky shrugged. "I'd do anything for her. And they already see me a certain way, might as well protect her from that."

Wilson smiled to him, a warm sensation taking over his chest, "You're really good to her."

As much as Barnes wanted to take the compliment, the exchange had become too intimate, and if there was one thing Bucky had been rejecting during the whole boyfriend act, was intimacy between them. He feared he might get confused.

"You trying to pamper me, Wilson?" he bumped Sam’s shoulder playfully.

The latter rolled his eyes, and they went back to the TV show on screen while they ate. A few minutes later, something was twirling around Sam’s head so heavily, that he had to speak out.

"Hey, uh... A bit of- a really foggy bit of what I said when I was blacked out might have come back to me." He told Bucky, avoiding eye-contact.

James knew exactly what that was. Sam had just seen Rumlow for the first time, which brought back a very specific part of the conversation they both had, but only Bucky remembered.

"You remembered shitting on Brock?" he raised an eyebrow, amused.

"I mean, I'm not sure, but I bet I didn't have anything nice to say about him."

"Nothing you hadn't said before." Bucky lied.

Sam most certainly had said some things about the ex-boyfriend that he had been keeping to himself, and only had the guts to let out while blackout drunk.

They sat back and switched the channels, finding a better movie to watch, ignoring the lunch party completely. Eventually, Bucky found himself laying on Sam's chest, sort of sided, but he was too comfortable to move away.

#sambucky #sambucky fanfiction #fake dating au #marvel fanfiction #sam/bucky #sam x bucky #sam wilson/bucky barnes #sam wilson x bucky barnes #tfatw #fatws #sambucky au #sambucky fluff #sambucky angst

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wizardwomenwisdom · 4 years

Text

secret for a secret (or why jj doesn’t like seeing kie kiss other boys)

word count: 1,779

cw: mentions of racism, homophobia, and abuse

summery: jj doesn’t want to go home. kie wasn’t invited to sarah’s birthday. when the two of them commiserate at john b’s, two major secrets come to life. (this is a sucky description i’m sorry pls just read it.)

ships: like bromance jj x kie?

disclaimer: a lot of this content is based off two of my friends’ experiences at this country club near us. yeet.

*****

John B and his dad were off the island, searching for the Royal Mariner. Which meant that no one was home. And that’s just what JJ needed.

It hurt his lungs to try and inhale as his bike sped down the road, but he’d checked. Nothing was broken. He just needed to sleep off the pain on John B’s pullout coach.

That’s what he always did, but he never told John B why. He always had various excuses to employ about Kooks or bike accidents or a mixture of the two, but today he didn’t need one.

He hopped off his bike and started wheeling it up the walk towards the house. Then, he saw her.

They hadn’t talked since late August, and she’d gone full Kook in the meantime, but he’d recognize Kie anywhere. The last few times he’d seen her at keggers, her hair had been straightened just like all the girls she hung with; now it was up in a high messy bun. She looked like his Kie.

He thought about leaving her there, but his ribs hurt and he could already feel his cheek swelling. It was getting darker by the minute. So, he dropped his bike against the side of the house and headed up to the porch.

Kie flinched when the door hit the frame, but she didn’t look up. JJ planned to just move past her, but he realized that her feet were plainly resting on the mat that hid the spare key.

JJ cleared his throat. Nothing. “Hey,” He said awkwardly.

Finally, she looked up. “JJ.” She didn’t sound surprised: in fact, she said it like it was just a fact. “Are you meeting John B?”

She was so far off the radar that she didn’t even know they were gone. “He’s not home.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Why are you?”

Kie looked back down, and didn’t answer. He could’ve just grabbed the key and left her like that. But once upon a time, Kie was his everything: his best friend, his first kiss, his favorite person. He couldn’t leave her like this, even if she left him.

He settled down across from her. “What’s wrong, Kie?”

She laughed lightly. “No one’s called me that in awhile.” Then she glanced up. “What happened to your face?”

“Topper,” JJ replied smoothly, eyes on hers.

“You’re a good liar, J.”

“Maybe because I’m telling the truth?” She tucked a stray bang behind her hair, and didn’t say anything. JJ had the overwhelming feeling that she wasn’t really there on the porch with her. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“How about a secret for a secret?”

It was an old Pogue game, older than his friendship with her. John B started it and Pope instituted the rules and then Kie made them play it all the time when they first met. That’s how he got to know her. The old her. New Kie was different. And so that’s why he said, “Okay.”

“Who gave you the bruises?”

“My dad.” JJ said it just as he’d named Topper, all cool and collected. His brain felt a bit numb from it.

“Fuck.”

“It’s always him. Almost always.” The look on Kie’s face made him back pedal. He didn’t want her pity, he just wanted to say it. So he lied. “It’s never a big deal, just a slap or something.”

“J, that is a big deal. You need to tell someone—“

“And get put in the foster care on the mainland? Fuck that. At least here I have you guys.” He said it without thinking, because, until recently, “you guys” had included her. Maybe it still did.

“JJ, you deserve to be safe. And happy. With a family that loves you.”

“I am, most of the time.” JJ grinned. “Now, you’re turn.” He slid across the space between them, coming to join her on the couch. As he sat, he forced himself not to wince at the pain in his stomach. Maybe he needed to check again for broken ribs, but he couldn’t with Kie there. He didn’t want to scare her.

“Alright, ask away.”

“Why are you here?”

She glanced at him, then leaned back on the couch. “Sarah’s birthday party is tonight, and I wasn’t invited.”

“That’s it?”

She crossed her arms. “What do you mean, ‘that’s it’?”

“It’s a birthday party, Kie.”

“She’s my best friend.”

“I used to say that about you, you know.”

She frowned, and leaned forward again. Her arms rested on her knees, her eyes studied the floorboards. “Last week was her birthday, technically, so we went to the beach.” Maybe it was the pain in her voice, or the way she exhaled before she said it, but JJ could tell that this right here was the real reason. “It was just the two of us, ya know? It was stormy, so everyone was gone, and we didn’t even bring our boards. We just talked.

“And we got to talking about boys and she kept talking about how she hates them. And how they all suck.”

“Ouch.”

“I said I thought it was annoying that boys always roughhouse each other for no reason. And she tackled me. She was on top of my, kneeling over me. Right up in my face.”

“I’m lost.“

“We kissed.” Her voice was small, scared. JJ stared at her. “I kissed her, I guess. And I realized I wanted to. I really, really wanted to.”

JJ didn’t say anything for a long time. Finally, he said, “So that’s why you won’t go out with me.”

She laughed quietly. “Something like that.”

“God, I told John B it wasn’t me. He’s gonna freak when he finds out.” A look of horror crossed Kie’s face.

“No.”

“In a good way.”

“JJ, you can’t tell him. No one can know.”

“What?”

“If my parents find out... If anyone finds out...”

JJ’s brows furrowed. He didn’t get it. It wasn’t like she had his dad. Hell, her parents were liberal. Her mom had photos from pride marches in her youth. “Kie, your parents won’t care.”

“My dad’s the only black man at the country club, did you know that?” She said suddenly. “I mean, there’s Kelce too, but his parents adopted him. They’re doctors. But my dad owns a restaurant. And my dad’s married to a white girl. We get looks at the club every time we’re there together.”

“Kie.”

“Imagine if everyone knew. Imagine the looks they’d give us then. In their eyes, it’s bad enough I’m not a pretty, smiley blonde. But if they knew I kissed her... If they knew that I’m...”

“Gay.”

She nodded. “They’d riot.”

“But that doesn’t mean you can’t tell your parents.”

“My parents always tell me to be proud of who I am, as if that does anything. If they knew I was pretending to be something I’m not for them?”

JJ realized, suddenly, that Kie was crying. And then he realized that he’d only seen her cry once before, when her grandma died in sixth grade. He awkwardly rested his arm around her.

“Promise me you won’t tell?”

“If you keep my secret, I’ll keep yours.”

“Deal.” She rested against him, her eyes closed just slightly. JJ smiled.

“I have one more condition: you come back to the dark side.”

“Fuck the Kooks,” She whispered lazily.

“Fuck the Kooks.”

They sat like that for awhile, arms wrapped around each other, until the sun had gone down completely and they’d retreated into John B’s house.

As Kie fussed around the kitchen, using the little food they had to produce something of substance, JJ leaned against the counter and stared out the window.

“What if we convince John B you’re into him?”

She looked up from the pot she was currently stirring, which smelled entirely too good to come from the Routledge house.

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s the perfect cover. You like John B but you can’t get with him because rules.”

“Why John B?”

“Because he’s an easy target. Sure, he’d be into it, but it’s not like he’s gonna get attached. Pope’s the best of us. Hell, if he falls for you and you pretend to be into it? Game over. But John B’ll just move on.”

“What about you?”

He flexed his arms. “I will never be tied down, Kie.” She rolled her eyes and looked away from him, so he slid to the counter next to the stove. “And I couldn’t with good conscience pretend I like you.”

“Try this,” She held out her spoon for him, and he took a bite. “So, what are you gonna say to him?”

“We’ll hype him up slowly. Just get comfy, ya know? Act like a girl.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know, just, like, hug him and stuff. Maybe kiss him on the cheek, ruffle his hair. Isn’t that a thing you guys do?”

She elbowed him. “If I’m supposed to come back to you guys, then you can at least drop the toxic masculinity stuff.” JJ grinned. “What’d you think?” Kiara gestured with the wooden spoon, drawing his attention back to the pot.

“Little hot, but hell of a lot better than anything I’ve ever eaten.”

“Except my dad’s surf and turf special?”

“You don’t eat the surf and turf special, Kie.” Hands raised like a preacher, he paused for dramatic effect. “You experience it.”

“That might just be the worst thing you’ve ever said.” She pulled the pot from the stove, and grabbed two bowls from the cabinet. The way she moved around the kitchen reminded JJ that once upon a time, this was a normal night: Kie would make dinner, Pope would work on homework at the counter, JJ and John B would dance around the kitchen to bad country music. He wanted that back so desperately.

“You think we can do this more often?” He asked, as she spooned the thick liquid out. “Bring back Friday night dinners?”

Kie handed him a small metal spoon and a bowl. “If John B ever gets his ass out grocery shopping, sure.”

“And we’ll watch the full original trilogy?”

“If you agree to a John Hughes movie marathon after that.”

“Heathers, too?”

“Sure.”

Kiara started to eat, but JJ just pushed his around with his spoon for a bit. Finally, he said, “Kie?”

“Mmm hmm?”

“I can still flirt with you, right?”

“Eat your dinner.”

#obx #obx netflix #outerbanks #jj maybank #obx jj #jj outer banks #kiara carrera #kie #kiara outer banks #kiara #obx kiara #sarah cameron #jj x kie #outer banks

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florianwirtz · 4 years

Text

Tears - Anyone You’d Like

Warning: strong language

"Will we see us again? I really had a good time with you."

You blinked a few times confusedly before you answered the question with a plastered smile on your face.

"Of course, I'm texting you whenever I'm free, see you soon." You even had the decency to look back and wave until you ran to the bus stop, a sour expression on your face.

Another failed tinder date later, you found yourself at your best friend's couch with a glass of wine in your hand. Luckily, he always had an open ear for you whenever your day didn't go the way you wanted.

"He really spent the whole date talking about how fucking awesome he apparently is and managed to make everything about him. I swear I was that close to spilling the wine over the table so he could shut the fuck up for once."

Frustration was taking over you which made you finish your half-full glass in one go and your best friend only chuckled slightly while observing you silently. He never grew tired of listening to your failed date stories because the way you were able to retell stories and spilling all your emotions was just so hilarious.

“I told you these tinder dates will lead to nothing. You should give one of my teammates a chance, they're all lovely, I promise!” He suggested after you were finished with ranting and you only rolled your eyes at him.

“While I appreciate your lousy attempts of playing matchmaker, I already told you I don't want to date a footballer, I don't think I could handle being second choice to a freaking ball!” A short laugh escaped your mouth which made him laugh too, but you saw that he wasn't really listening anymore as he was busy scrolling through his socials.

To avoid awkward silence, you pretended to do the same as a sudden wave of sadness hit you. Because of course, he didn't understand why you were still accepting all these tinder dates when you were fully aware that this is definitely not the platform to find the love of your life. How could he know that you refused to go on dates with one of his teammates because you couldn't help but compare every single footballer to him.

Something deep inside you still somehow hoped that you'd end up with him. So you used these dates as a distraction, an excuse that you haven't found the right one yet.

And just as you thought about how naive and stupid your feelings were, the reason you felt silly went down the stairs.

"Hi you two! [Y/N], I didn't know you were coming!" She gave you her sweetest smile and you couldn't help but smile back. The hug she gave you felt warm and genuine and once again you just knew that she was the right one for him. How could you hate her when she never badmouthed you once for always showing up at your friend's house because you wanted to feel his presence near you.

Not even the miserable feeling in your stomach when she bent down to him and kissed his cheek softly which made both put their happiest faces on could tell you that you shouldn't be happy for them.

"Hi! Yes, but I was about to go, it's late." You answered her politely, ignoring the pang in your chest when you realised that they only had eyes for each other.

"Really? Let me drive you home then, it's late and you had a drink." She didn't even give you time to refuse and went searching for her car keys, leaving you and her boyfriend alone again.

"Thanks for having me and sorry for always barging in, she probably doesn't like it and I try not to do it so often anymore." You chuckled while holding him in your arms. Nothing made you feel more secure than being able to share physical contact with him while smelling his signature perfume.

"Stop saying that, you are always welcome. She knows how important you are to me. Have a safe ride home." He lightly brushed your cheek which made your whole body tremble and never were you happier than now that you could blame the burning shade of your face on the wine you had consumed.

You knew it was only a gesture of a trusted friend, yet it was all you could think about the whole ride home. Which is why you barely paid attention to what she talked about but she didn't seem to mind as she cluelessly continued talking. Only when she mentioned his name, you suddenly came back to reality.

"You ordered that cake for his birthday next week, right?"

"Yes, of course, the carrot cake from the bakery located in the neighbourhood he came from. It's gonna be delivered to your house on his day, it's all planned." You explained to her and saw her smiling while paying attention to the street.

"He's so lucky to have you, the amount of effort you put in his birthday is so heartwarming. I'm going to make sure he does the same for you."

She said it with such reassurance, for a moment, you weren't sure if you were able to hold this fake happy facade any longer. Because you still couldn't believe that she found all these sweet words for you when you were nothing but horrible to her by secretly wanting her boyfriend all to yourself. You were lucky that it was dark outside so she never noticed how a few tears escaped from your eyes.

And the pain in your heart returned but this time not because of jealousy but because you realised how awful of a human being you are by not being able to let go of a dead crush.

A few days later you were invited to one of his games and it wasn't just any game but the decisive game of which team was going to the cup final.

Of course, you wore his name and number on your back but it didn't feel any special as he always had gifted you his kits whenever a new season started, it was a tradition since he went professional and for you as a football fan a great collector’s item.

She was also here and you were both twinning as she wore the same kit as you, only that hers was a man size, probably stolen from him. You even posted a pic on social media together, capturing it with “game day x” and expressions for the support of his team.

His family always managed to be present which was a rather rare occasion as they lived far away from his current residence. However, you knew from childhood days that they were always the proudest whenever they saw him play. And of course, they loved her, she was the perfect girlfriend anyone could ask for and she already told you that his family already made her feel like she was one of them. Life could be so perfect if you’d only see him as your best friend.

The game couldn't be any closer as both teams were equally strong, chances missed and converted from both sides and in the last 10 minutes, the scoreline showed was 1-1.

Both of you were nervously trembling, the tension whenever the opponent had the ball was unbearable and it seemed like it was going to extra time. But then a player of his team saw an opportunity and sprinted as his life depended on it, making the opponent's defenders look like fools. Finally, in front of the goal, he was crossing to his teammate who smashed the ball into the net with a beautiful header.

The crowd erupted, you and she in the family lounge hold each other tightly, screaming with joy and pride with the others in the room joining as well. And the few minutes of extra time after the deciding goal felt like an eternity, you and she never let go of each other's hands, too afraid that the opponent could turn this game around, but his team fought back until the liberating final whistle was heard.

You saw his team celebrating with each other, grinning like a Cheshire cat and also finding yourself in her arms again.

“I'm so proud of him, you have no idea.” She squeaked excitedly and you agreed with her, hugging her even tighter.

Finally, after all the post celebrations and interviews he came up to the family lounge, the people in this room applauding him with immense pride when they spotted their golden boy and he was greeting one after another.

Then he made his way to you and you just ran up to him and hugged him wordlessly, burying your head in his shoulder.

“You were fucking awesome there. You gonna win this trophy for sure now.”

“God, you are amazing. My supporter even when I accidentally smashed your mom’s vases back then. Thank you.”

You could feel your heartbeat so fast, you even thought you might pass out in a moment. This moment just felt too intense to end but it wasn't long until he slowly let go of you and you snapped back to reality.

And the ugly feeling of rejection came back when you saw him running up to her, kissing her passionately on the mouth and leaving a few other kisses on her face. They whispered sweet nothings to each other inaudible for everyone else and never noticing how they were lost in their own bubble. You stood on the side, no one noticing how you hold back a few tears in the back as they were busy in taking pictures of the two lovebirds.

Then his birthday came up. He still had training on this day but his coach assured him that there was no training the day after so he decided to celebrate in the evening after training.

So you found yourself in his house, helping his girlfriend to organise the party they had planned.

"Can I ask you something?" She suddenly asked you as you were in the process of decorating the table.

"Uh sure." Unsure what to expect, you both stopped arranging the glasses on the table as she sat down on the sofa, pointing to the place next to her.

"Do you think him and I are a good match?"

To say you were flabbergasted by her question would be an underestimation as you looked at her utterly aghast. What was she implying?

"What do you mean? Of course, you are?! You and he are perfect for each other and I bet you could ask anyone and they'd say the same."

She hesitated a bit before she answered, visibly uncertain about your statement.

"People on Instagram beg to differ."

She referred to the pictures he posted after the game he won. It contained a series of pictures including his family, you and her. "Finals! Always grateful for all of them supporting me."

You hadn't had a look at the comments before, but most of them were either about her or you. How you and he would be a much better fit, that you and he seemed to have more chemistry, simply based on two photos he had posted.

"Don't listen to them, sweetie. They don't see what we see every day and we know that you belong together." Comfortingly you put your hand on her shoulder while her expression still remained doubtful.

"But you still know him better than I ever will. After all, it was you who told me what he likes and how we should organise the party. It feels that after all these years, I still don't seem to know him like you do."

Unwilling to accept her self-doubt, you forcefully shook your head.

"It doesn't matter how well I know him. You are still his and his only. And while he loves me a lot, he loves me differently. He will always love you more."

How you managed to say this without bursting out into tears was beyond your understanding. Maybe if you told yourself this often enough, you'll start to accept it and maybe you were finally at the point where you should be able to move on.

However, when she gratefully took you in her arms, thanking you for trying to build her up, the relief in her voice obvious, you could feel your eyes watering. Because you knew she wouldn't even take a look at you if she knew what kind of feelings you were hiding.

The conversation was long over and forgotten when one of his mates finally brought him home, his house full of guests singing happy birthday to him as he entered the living room.

Obviously, he was left speechless at the number of people who had come to the party. He was even more surprised when he found out that it was you and her who organised all of it and immediately, he embraced you both at the same time, whispering "thank you my favourite girls".

Everyone was having a good time and even you could temporarily forget about your problems for a while. It was also an opportunity to get to know his teammates and you were positively surprised as most of them weren't too bad of a company.

It was all going well for you until he was asking for everyone's attention. No one really knew what was going on but he managed to make everyone surround him and his girlfriend, visibly wanting to announce something.

"First of all, I wanted to thank everyone for coming and making this day special. I feel extremely grateful that I know people like you who care so much about me."

Everyone in this room applauded him but stopping soon as he gave a signal that he wasn't finished talking.

As the applause died down, he took both hands of his girlfriend in his and looked her deeply in the eyes.

"I also wanna say special thanks to my girlfriend who always stuck by my side no matter what we've been through. I don't think I could ask for anyone better than you."

Suddenly he went down on his knee, everyone in this room holding their breath, knowing exactly what was coming while she held both of her hands in front of her mouth as he pulled out a box with a shiny ring out of his pocket.

"So I wanted to ask you if you would give me the honour and let me make you my wife?"

And she was now crying tears of joy, nodding with her head so much as if she had never been more sure of a decision.

Finally, the ring was on her finger and the people around the couple who were holding each other happily began to film and cheer with loud noise, celebrating and congratulating the couple in front of them.

You, on the other hand, stood like a brick wall at your place, not moving one bit as you still needed time to process what had happened a few minutes before.

Luckily for you, everyone's attention was given to the couple as no one noticed how you discreetly made your way out of the room.

You barely managed to reach the toilet and lock it up as you immediately fell down on your knees and finally, you let all the tears you had held back all the time streaming down your face.

You knew you should've expected it, you knew there never had been a chance in the first place, yet you couldn't help but feel heartbroken and alone. Because now he had made his definitive decision, he intended to spend the rest of his life with her.

And maybe this was your final call to ultimately move on from a love that was never meant to be, to finally let go of a person who was never yours in the first place.

Eventually, the tears stopped pouring and you took your time to sit on the floor for a few minutes, trying to regain your composure. Your make up was ruined by crying so you tried your best to make yourself look normal as much as possible. Right now, no one was supposed to notice your pain, later when you were home by yourself, you had enough time to let your true emotions show.

Carefully, you sneaked out of the bathroom and by the looks of it, no one had noticed your disappearance or breakdown. So you approached him with your brightest smile who was still surrounded by other people congratulating him. "My best friend is growing up and I can't believe he didn't tell me! Congrats on popping the question!" You took him in your arms as he hugged you happily back.

This time you broke the hug before you could feel anything more than you should.

Of course, he immediately noticed your face which was still red from the tears you had cried, making him look at you with a concerned face.

"Did you cry? Is everything alright?"

It wasn't easy to lie directly into his face as you still felt like you could burst out in tears at any minute but for his sake, you continued smiling.

"Of course I did, because I was so happy for you, idiot!" Playfully you smacked him on the shoulder and laughed which immediately infected him too.

"God, I'm so glad to have you."

And for some reason, his words didn't seem to affect you as much as they used to, you no longer felt like your heart could explode at any minute. Maybe these tears you had cried before were the first step of letting him go. Maybe these tears were necessary to get you through the process. Maybe when you saw him with her the next time, you will already have your happiness back.

Tell me who you imagined this with!

#football imagine #football imagines #julian brandt imagine #ben chilwell imagine #trent alexander arnold imagine #james maddison imagine #kylian mbappe imagine #harry winks imagine #dele imagine #eric dier imagine #jadon sancho imagine #paulo dybala imagine #dominic calvert lewin imagine #tyrone mings imagine

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tearsofthemis · 4 years

Text

Tears of Themis : Chapter 1 “Social Snobbery” Part 5

[Previous Part] | [Masterlist] | [Next Part]

youtube

▌ Location- Commerce Avenue

MC: “Miss. Xue, is the restaurant entrance located in an alley?”

(As we approached the restaurant, Xue XinRang suddenly pulled me toward a side road.)

Xue XinRan: “You can call me XinRan. Grandpa Fang converted the first story of his home into the restaurant, so that’s why it’s not front-facing on Commerce Avenue.”

(I’m guessing it’s to be expected in the CBD area, but even the less frequented side roads are kept meticulously. The entranceway had a comforting atmosphere, as a light breeze picked up the delicate scent of camellias kept in flowerpots.)

Xue XinRan: “We’re almost there, it’s just around the corner. What do you think of the camellias, aren’t they pretty? Grandpa Fang planted them in memory of his late wife.”

MC: “I can see that Mr. Fang’s love for his wife has never wavered…”

MC: “...”

(After we rounded the bend, I stood still in place. We came face to face with someone who felt both familiar, yet foreign. He resided in every single one of my precious childhood memories, and yet, he had disappeared from my life eight years ago without a trace.)

MC: “Xia… Xia Yan!”

(He turned at the sound of my voice as his amber eyes widened in shock, recognition, and finally, lit up with joy.)

Xia Yan: “MC, is that you? It’s gotta be!”

(He ran toward me, and his bright smile instantly took me back to a sunny afternoon, eight years ago…)

[Flashback]

MC: “Xia Yan! How many times have I told you not to read while sitting on the window ledge, what if you fall?”

Xia Yan: “Sorry, I was lost in thought and ended up sitting here by habit.”

(The warm summer winds that rustled through the trees, and the birds that perched on its branches filled the skies with a lazy song. The colorful years of childhood melded away as our voices changed, but now, the memory only grew clearer in my mind…)

MC: “Are you thinking about your acceptance to Capital University? Mom called during lunchtime and leaked the news. She said you won’t be coming to school tomorrow.”

Xia Yan: “Yeah, I was accepted early to Capital University, I’ll move to the capital next week.”

MC: “You are absolutely incredible, to get accepted into the country’s top university in your sophomore year!”

▌ [Examine Xia Yan’s face]

Xia Yan: “Why are you staring at me so intensely…”

MC: “I can’t help but notice that you don’t look too happy, is your program major not to your liking?”

Xia Yan: “I don’t mind it, I’ll be studying bio-engineering. If my mom caught wind of the news, I think she’d be ecstatic. However… we’ve never been so far apart from each other. Will you… You have to work hard so you can get accepted and come to the capital to find me!”

MC: “There’s no way I’d apply to Capital University. I want to pursue my law degree, and everyone knows Stellis University’s law program is the best in the industry... The copies of Sherlock Holmes in your room, are you taking all of them with you?

Xia Yan: “Nah, I’ll leave it at your parents’ place. I'll leave you my bedroom key, you can borrow them whenever you like.”

MC: “Getting accepted to Capital University is such good news, I don’t understand why you and my parents were so tight-lipped about it.”

Xia Yan: “It’s because I asked them to keep it a secret. I didn’t know how to break it to you. All these years of me slumming it with your family, I’ve caused you guys a lot of trouble, so I-“

MC: “Hey hey, just because you’re going away for university, does that automatically demote us from family to strangers? God, I can’t believe you’d even say something so outrageous.”

Xia Yan: “W-wait! Don’t get upset, I misspoke.”

▌ [Examine Xia Yan’s key necklace]

MC: “Since you’re leaving anyways, can’t you tell me what’s in the box that’s opened with this key?”

Xia Yan: “Don’t you think it's more exciting to hang on to the suspense? When everything under the sun has been said and done, the story would have reached its ending.”

▌ [Examine Xia Yan’s book]

Xia Yan: “I’m the one who got accepted to university, so why do you seem happier than I am?”

MC: “Of course I’m happy. The top student of our grade is leaving, I can finally experience the joy of not being number two.”

Xia Yan: “That’s why you’re happy? You should’ve said so sooner, I would’ve let you have the spot…”

MC: “STOP! I don’t want you to let me have it!”

Xia Yan: “Ha, even if I tried my hardest to compete, once we get divided into streams, you’ll easily be the top student in liberal arts. I thought it’d a shame that we won’t be in the same classes, little did I know, you didn’t share the same sentiments…”

▌ [Examine the window]

MC: “Alright, alright, let’s liven up. Early acceptance is a happy occasion.”

Xia Yan: “Let’s promise to video call every day. That way, the distance might not be so bad after all.”

MC: “Okay, I promise.”

[Flashback ends]

(Our promise to each other lies in the past, so why does it feel like we’ve only said goodbye yesterday? It turns out, our childhood memories are ingrained in my heart, where a mere eight years apart would do little to erase it...)

Xia Yan: “I… I never thought I’d get to see you again. How have you been over the years?”

(I was about to ask him the same thing, looks like he beat me to it.)

MC: “I’ve been well, and you? I didn’t hear from you after you left for the capital. Meeting each other again like this is incredible… When mom, dad, and I tried to contact the university, they told us you were selected to participate in some secret experiment, so I...”

Xia Yan: “Y-yeah… It was a government project, so security was tight. I wasn’t allowed to interact with the outside world during the experiment, and the moment it ended, I came right back. I-”

MC: “You came back and didn’t even think to contact me. I’ll have you know, I never changed my phone number!”

Xia Yan: “It’s not that, I..”

(Xia Yan reached out and he tried to grab hold of my wrist. When we were little, this was his method of begging for forgiveness when I would jokingly pretend to be upset with him. But today…)

MC: “Xia Yan…”

(His hand paused midway, and he quickly pulled it behind his back.)

Xia Yan: “I didn’t mean to stay away for so long. Please forgive me?”

MC: “What forgiveness, I’m not actually mad at you, you know. I’m really really happy that I get to see you again!”

Xia Yan: “Really? Seeing me again makes you happy?”

(Perhaps my enthusiasm was contagious as Xia Yan’s body gradually relaxed again.)

MC: “Of course. Are you here to stay, or just visiting?”

Xia Yan: “...”

(Xia Yan flinched, but smiled at me once more.)

Xia Yan: “Would you like it if I stayed?”

MC: “What kind of wishful thinking is that. You’re already the government’s property, it’s not like you can stay just because I’d like you to.”

Xia Yan: “But I can! This time, I’ll listen to you.”

MC: “Alright, let’s not talk about that stuff. What exactly are you doing here? Are you…”

(My gaze wandered and settled on the Sherlock pendant Xia Yan wore, and it clicked in my mind.)

MC: “The private detective XinRan hired, it’s gotta be you!”

-------

[Previous Part] | [Masterlist] | [Next Part]

------

《CREDIT》 Translator: @humi-and-co Editor: @hallowsivy 《未定事件簿》Tears of Themis is a 2020 Chinese otome game by 米哈游Mihoyo. All original credits go to 米哈游Mihoyo.

《 VOICE ACTORS 》 Xia Yan | Jin Xian: https://weibo.com/riceranger Zuo Ran | Zhao Lu: https://weibo.com/mzhaolu Lu HaiYang | Zhang Pei: https://weibo.com/u/1937059462 Xue XinRan | V17-Su Wan: https://weibo.com/u/2925530143

#tears of themis #tears of themis translations #tears of themis trans #xia yan #tears of themis xia yan #otome #otome game #otome game translations #未定事件簿 #夏彦

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totally-incorrect-theatre-quotes · 5 years

Text

Hair (fanfic)

Look at me go, two fanfics in two days. It’s almost like I should be studying or something but would rather write sad fanfiction instead of dealing with organic chemistry.

Anyway, this fanfic is heavily inspired by a text-post from @lesbian-deetz about blonde Lydia and how she ended up with black hair and a tiktok by @vrronicasawyer-cosplay

I took an already sad text post and made it ten times sadder!

Tw: Mourning, death

__________________________________________________________

Everyone always said Lydia had the most beautiful blonde hair. When she was first born everyone was so shocked to see this tiny baby girl with light blonde hair when both her mother and father had dark hair, it wasn’t until they remembered Charles’ red-headed father that it all made sense that Lydia was blonde. From the day she was born, nobody could deny that Lydia was Charles’ daughter. Even as a baby she looked exactly like him from her eye color, the shape of her nose, and her face in general. Emily tried not to be envious, though she did land in a few remarks about how unfair it was that she grew Lydia inside of her for nine months and she looked exactly like her father, who’s job in making the baby ended nine months and fifteen minutes ago. Little did Emily know that even though she looked like Charles, Lydia would undeniably be considered Emily’s little clone.

As a toddler, she had little curls that killed people when she gave a rosy-cheeked and buck-toothed smile. Her mother would love to braid flowers in Lydia’s hair and pretend they were fairies in the garden. Her father used to gush about how he loved the light, almost white colored hair that contrasted Lydia’s dark brown eyes. As she got older Lydia always just kept her hair long. She liked the way that it blew all crazy when she was running on the playground, and the time spent every morning with her mother helping her fix her hair for the day. She begged her mother to let her get bangs when she was around ten years old, and Emily begrudgingly agreed only because she also had bangs as a child and hoped that letting Lydia get them done once would get it out of her system. Lydia ADORED her new hair cut, and even Emily thought the look suited her. Mostly she was just thrilled her daughter was happy and expressing herself.

Lydia never really thought much about having blonde hair, she just thought it was funny when people would joke about how her family must have brought home the wrong baby because her hair was so light compared to hers. Her father kept his brown hair in a professional style like all the other father’s Lydia saw of her classmates, she teased him for being boring. Emily though, she had shorter hair from as early as Lydia could remember. It was dark brown, nearly black hair that Emily kept cut just above her chin in a messy bob. At nights Emily and Lydia would flip through old photo albums and Emily would groan when photos of her with long hair appeared.

“My parents always wanted me to keep it long, said it was ‘proper of a young lady’ ” Emily mocked in a stuffy voice, “As soon as I turned sixteen, I went to the hairdresser and told them to chop it off! My mother was less than thrilled when I came home missing ten inches of hair.”

“Would you be mad if I cut my hair like that?” a ten-year-old Lydia asked

Emily shook her head, “Of course I wouldn’t be. You can do whatever you want with your hair. I just like mine this way, I’ve kept it this short ever since I was sixteen years old. I think it’s very me, don’t you?”

Lydia nodded, “I like my hair like this. I think I would keep it that way, besides daddy really loves my hair long.”

“I think you’d look cute with short hair, but if this is how you like it you should keep it that way.”

Lydia thought about it for a second, “Maybe when I’m older...I’ll test out some new looks.”

“Didn’t you just test out these bangs little lady?”

Lydia was twelve years old when Emily first got sick. The doctors seemed hopeful in the beginning, said that her chance of beating it was sixty percent, but as time went on Emily got worse and worse. Emily’s once beautiful black hair was brittle and falling out as a reaction from the medication she was on, by the time the end was drawing near, she had only patches of hair left. Lydia remembered crying when her mom asked to braid her hair one more time, just hadn’t been able to do her own in so long, and even though Lydia was all grown up now, just once more Emily wanted to it. Slowly and deliberately Emily twisted Lydia’s blonde hair into two strands, and when she was done both women were in tears. Charles, who was silent for the whole thing, remarked how beautiful they both looked.

A few days later Emily took her last breath. Lydia and Charles at both sides of the bed, holding her hands in theirs. Lydia doesn’t remember much of what happened afterward, it was all a blur to her but it still pains Charles to play over in his mind how Lydia screamed and cried for her mother to come back, that she wasn’t ready to let go, how he had to pry his sobbing daughter away from her dead mother, Lydia’s arms still outstretched reaching for one more hug, one more kiss, one more time of Emily doing her hair. He regretted not letting her, at the time he found it morbid but he often wondered if he had just let her say goodbye on her own terms that she would be coped better. Instead of righting his wrongs, he simply tried to ignore it, and hope that Lydia would come around.

At home that night Lydia felt so numb, she had already cried so much that she couldn’t even make tears anymore. Her father was so busy preparing arrangements for the funeral and organizing family that he didn’t have time to console his grieving child. She would stand right in front of him, tears running down her face but he would dismiss her, as he scrambled to get everything in order. She never felt so alone, even with all the people constantly parading in and out of her house. Adults simply giving her pitiful looks as they went to talk to Charles about how strong he was and what a good example he was for Lydia. She could hear their whispers to each other, and their glances at the frail and meak little girl sitting on the stairs. She knew they wished she could just give them a polite smile or thank them when they gave their condolences. She couldn’t though, because she knew it was fake. They weren’t sorry for her loss, they were sorry that she hadn’t moved on. She couldn’t tell anybody how she felt, any time she tried they would just turn away.

Her aunt sat by her in the living room and instead of reading the tone, Lydia was silent and tearful, she picked up a picture frame of Lydia’s family and remarked, “You know, you look just like your father.”

She lost it, she managed a mousy, “I get that a lot.” before she ran up to her room, slammed the door and cried.

The night before the funeral Lydia came down the stairs and found her father clutching a framed photograph of Emily in his hands. Lydia stared at the photo. Her mother and father were dancing, something that Charles never did unless Emily coaxed him into it. They were younger, maybe in their twenties. Charles in the photograph had messier hair and was frozen in a laugh as he dipped Emily. Emily’s mouth was in a wide smile and her short black hair was fanned out behind her. Lydia held back a whimper as she snuck out the backdoor and walked down to the drug store a block away. It was a route she was familiar with, growing up in New York Lydia walked a lot of places, but talking to the drug store this time felt strange as if reality felt off. Mindlessly Lydia walked through the aisles, unsure of what she was even looking for until she stumbled into the rows of hair coloring. Cautiously she picked up a box in her hand and ran her fingers through her long blonde hair. Without saying a word she dropped the box on the counter, paid for it, and walked back home.

She went into the kitchen and grabbed a pair of gloves and a pair of scissors. She quietly went into the bathroom and set everything down, careful not to attract the attention of her father. She held a photograph of her mother up to the side of her face as she stared at herself in the mirror. She stayed emotionless as she applied the dye, showered, and dried her hair. Standing back in the mirror she twisted the now dark black hair around her fingers, looking back and forth between the photo of her mother and herself in the mirror. She picked up the scissors and aggressively started cutting, long curls of her hair falling to the floor. Tears were streaming liberally and her face burned a bright red as she sobbed. When she was done it was choppy, uneven, and short. Shorter than she had even had it before. The longest section rested above her chin, but it was exactly what she wanted. When she looked at her reflection she didn't even recognize who she was, but she felt like she was looking at a ghost.

“Lydia?” Charles called from downstairs, “What’s going on up there, are you alright?”

She gathered up the mess she made and threw it away before walking calmly down the stairs to greet her father. She hesitated on the banister, but there was no going back. She stood in front of her father and just waited for a response.

“What the hell did you do!” He screamed, “Oh my god Lydia, why did you do this? The funeral is tomorrow and you had to do this tonight, do you not think before you do things! Look at it-”

Lydia’s eyes started welling up with tears but she tried to keep herself under control. She knew he would be shocked, but she hadn't expected him to scream at her, not two days after her mother had died.

“Lydia your hair was beautiful! I loved it, your mother..she loved it! Why did you do this! What the hell have you done, can you please just explain why.”

Lydia couldn’t help herself, the dam broke and she started screaming back at him, she could feel angry and hot tears running down her face, and her chest felt so tight that she was afraid she couldn’t breathe. She wouldn’t give him a straightforward answer, she just yelled at him about everything that she had been feeling, for how everyone had been treating her.

“I’m invisible dad! Nobody sees me, you don’t see me. All you do is look at everyone else, and look at pictures. Well, guess what dad, now you have to look at me! DO YOU SEE ME NOW DAD!”

“I am looking right at you, I haven’t gone anywhere. It has just been a rough couple of days-”

“I am so sick of everyone telling me that. That it’s been rough, and that it’s going to get better. It’s not going to get better, they are liars because they can’t bring her back!”

He sagged his shoulders, “Lydia, I’m sorry you feel that way. I just, I don’t understand why you felt like you had to do this. You cut your hair, you dyed it black. We understand you’re in mourning, but isn’t this taking it too far!”

Lydia’s face contorted and she began to violently shake, she collapsed on the ground and sobs wracked through her tiny frame. She looked up at her father and whimpered, “Do I look like her?”

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anarcoqueer1994 · 5 years

Text

Be My Beard?

A story about the Kippen family being terrible and homophobic and Amber and TJ being the best disaster gays.

(Please be kind, wrote this post seizure today so my brain is being wonky <3 )

TJ and Amber Kippen were gay. Very gay. But neither teenager was out to the family. Of course they knew the other one wasn't straight, they could never keep anything a secret between each other. But the thought of telling the whole family scared both of them.

A few years back, when Amber was in the 8th grade, and TJ was in the 6th, an incident happened that freaked them both out. They were having Christmas dinner with their parents, both sets of grandparents, and a bunch of aunts, uncles, and all their kids. Amber recently figured out she was a lesbian. She had told TJ and of course he was supportive and excited for her. But neither could predict how their family would react. And they needed to know before Amber came out, and even though he hadn't said it out loud, before TJ came out.

So at Christmas dinner she decided to test the waters to check how they would react. Amber casually said, "This girl in my class just told everyone she was a lesbian, isn't that so brave of her?" She muses.

Her aunt Robin on her dad's side was the first to speak up. "All these kids think they are gay at your age, sweetheart. She will figure it out."

Out of the corner of her eye a few people nodded. But then it goes back to general talking and laughing at the table. But Amber and TJ needed to know more. So TJ decides to poke a little further. Over the voices around him, he says"But what if she doesn't 'figure it out?' What if she does only like girls the rest of her life? What if that makes her happy?"

Amber and TJ's grandma(on their mom's side) gets a very serious look on her face. The room is silent and awkward. She stares at Amber for a few moments, as if she was trying to calculate something. Then she turns to TJ, giving him a similar look. Finally she breaks her silence and coldly says, "Well then I would remind that girl that maybe she should think about what that would do to her family and friends, and that she should figure how to keep those feelings under control. It is all for the best...." She put on a sweet smile and quickly adds, " Hypothetically, of course."

Then, just like that, everyone goes back to talking and laughing. No one bothered to defy her or what she said. Both Kippen siblings are left staring into their plates in quiet worry the rest of the night.

In the year that followed, both of them learned to 'hide' from their feelings, even denying the truth from each other.

"Ambs, What are you doing going out with this guy, Jonah?" TJ asks, while sitting on her bed, as she does her hair for school.

"I happen to really like Jonah." She says in a voice that is uncertain if she is trying to convince TJ or herself.

"Don't lie to me, I know the truth. You have become colder to people, especially other girls. And you have become so clingy and possessive towards Jonah. You are pretending to be someone you are not. Amber, no matter what grandma says, it is okay if you are a les..."

"You don't know anything, TJ!" she cuts him off. "Don't start with me. Don't act like I don't see how much more of a jerk you have become since last year at Christmas. You have been trying to act like this hotshot, super 'manly' jock with a bad attitude to hide the fact that you are gay."

TJ quickly gets up and heads to the door. "Whatever Amber....I'm not gay. " He slams her door.

And it was like that for a while. But then they meet Andi and Cyrus, and both of them knew they were fucked.

Amber first saw Andi when the other girl was talking to Jonah. Right away, Andi made Amber feel weak in the knees. Amber was terrified that Andi would bring out the feelings she had been working so hard to suppress. So she responded to those fears by purposely being as cold as possible to Andi and clinging tighter than ever to Jonah. But then she and Jonah broke up and even more surprisingly, she and Andi became friends.

There were some hiccups along the way in their friendship. There was the time at the ferris wheel. Most people assumed she left because she was jealous of Andi being with Jonah. In reality, she was jealous that Jonah was Andi's choice and not her.

Then there was the warehouse party. That night she held Andi's hand for the first time. She remembers looking into Andi's little Bambi eyes and melting. That scared her. So soon, she took the opportunity to get close to Jonah again. He was her disguise. That's why she pushed so hard when they were dating, tricking herself into believing that she loved him so no one would suspect that she was a lesbian.

But always in the back of her head was Andi. So when she and Jonah broke up, it was almost liberating. She and Andi got closer and at Andi's party, they danced and her heart felt like it was going to pound out of chest. Then less than a week later, Andi texted her, asking her to meet her at The Spoon. That night Andi asked her out and against her better judgment, she said yes. They have been together ever since, a little more than a year now.

The other Kippen sibling was just as powerless against love. Cyrus gave him the courage and freedom to be himself, if only to just their friends. So both Amber and TJ were with people they loved who loved them back. Unfortunately...they had to keep it a secret to everyone but their close friends to negate the risk of their family finding out.

This was working out fine for a while. Their parents just assumed that Cyrus and Andi were their friends. But one day towards the end of TJ's freshman year, their plan started to crumble. Their grandparents were over and the family was catching up in the living room. The conversation was innocent enough until their parents leave the room and their grandma started asking about their personal lives. There grandfather sits obviously on the couch next to her.

"So tell me about what is going on in your lives?" She asks, looking between her grandkids. "Anything special? Anyone special?" She smiles.

Both kids look uncomfortably at the ground so she pushed on, in a faux sweet voice. "What about that girl in your class, dear? Remember the one you told me about a few years back?" Looking at Amber. "Did she ever figure out that this gay thing was a phase?"

They both knew what she was implying. She wanted to know if they were done with this "phase." They weren't dumb. She may not know specifics but their grandmother had a hunch and it scared them. Amber looks up quickly to meet her grandmother's eye, as awkward silence filled the room. She cleared her throat. "Yeah, she did. She even has a boyfriend now."

"Oh, she does?" Their grandmother grins. "So what about you two? I know, Amber, you must be beating guys away with a stick." Then their grandfather speaks for the first time. "And TJ, must be like me back in the day. You are a real lady's man, aren't you?" The old man smiles.

TJ doesn't know what came over him but he finds himself speaking up. "Actually, I have a...." he suddenly forces himself to pause, his senses coming back to him.

"A what dear?" The older woman asks.

"Um, a girlfriend." He lies through his teeth.

"Oh really? And what her name?"

TJ panics. He did not think this through. Amber looks over and sees her brother's look of fear and worry, so she steps in.

"Teej's girlfriend is wonderful! She's actually my best friend, Andi."

"What about you Amber? Do you have a special guy?"

"Uh yeah. His name is...its Cyrus. He's a boy in TJ's class." TJ is dumbfounded, looking at his sister as he tries his best to play along.

Their grandmother looks absolutely giddy. "I must meet them! You should bring them to family dinner on Sunday!"

"What?!" Both siblings say in unison.

"Yea, bring them to dinner this Sunday!" Their grandpa agrees. Every Sunday, they and their parents go to their grandparents house for dinner. But neither of them expected them to invite Andi and Cyrus.

Amber stutters "But aren't those special family time?"

"Nonsense!" Their grandma exclaimed. Right then their parents return. She turn to their mom, her daughter. "Kim, I told the kids they can bring their special people Sunday."

Their mother turns to them. "I didn't know you kids were dating anyone."

"Um, yea mom. I am dating Andi, Amber's friend. And you know how close Cyrus and Amber are." TJ tries to play off.

"That's so exciting!" She squeals. "Definitely bring them."

The kids groan internally knowing there is no getting out of this now.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

So that is how they ended up at The Spoon, nervously waiting for Andi and Cyrus. They sat on the same side of the booth, so when Cyrus and Andi walk in, they scoot into the other side across from the Kippen siblings. Both teens immediately notice the look of apprehension on their SO's face.

"What's going on guys?" Andi asks cautiously.

"Yea, you guys are scaring me." Cyrus adds, Andi nodding her head in agreement.

Amber lets out a dry laugh. "It's actually a funny story...um well…." TJ nervously smiles beside her. "We need you guys to be our beards this Sunday." She finishes.

"What do you mean, Ambs?" Andi reaches her hand across the table to grab Amber's.

"I, um, mean that our grandma came over the other day and started asking all these questions and we kind of ended up lying to her and she thinks Cyrus is my boyfriend and you are TJ's girlfriend. Then she told us to invite you guys for dinner. So we need you guys to help us to pretend to be happy straight couples for one night."

Cyrus and Andi share matching faces of shock. Cyrus says "You guys know how crazy this sounds, right?"

"Cy," TJ says pleasingly. "Our family isn't like yours or Andi's. Our parents, and especially our grandparents, are so anti-gay." There is almost a shared pain in the Kippen kids eyes as he speaks.

Cyrus' voice softens. "I know, Teej. I'm sorry. I will do it, if it will help you guys out."

Amber looks at Andi. "Bambi? What do you say?"

Andi smiles at the blonde haired girl staring at her. "Of course. I still think it is crazy but anything to help."

In that moment, TJ and Amber knew how lucky they were to have such amazing partners. The rest of the night was spent planning for Sunday. They needed to get everything right.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

The night they had been dreading finally arrived. They were having Andi and Cyrus meet them at their grandparent's house right before dinner. They figured, the less time they had to act out this charade in front of their family, the better.

Dinner was set to start at 7, and like clock work, Cyrus and Andi show knock on the front door around quarter til. When the kids open the door, Cyrus has a bouquet in his hands. He hands it to Amber and says "My lady. " TJ laughs to himself at the obvious show Cyrus is putting on.

"Thank you, Cy." She smiles. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Andi wink, tipping her off to the fact that Andi picked those out. She blushes at that thought. Just then their grandfather walks up and slaps his arms around his grandkids' shoulders.

"See TJ, that's how you treat a lady." He smiles and jokingly continues to TJ, "This young man is really showing you up bringing flowers for Amber and you didn't get anything for this beautiful girl." He motions to Andi.

"What can I say. Grandpa? Cyrus really knows how to make a girl happy. " All four kids crack a knowing smile at the absurdity of it all.

"Well let's get you kids out of the doorway. We are about to eat." Amber and TJ nod as their grandfather speaks.

TJ moves forward and puts his arm around Andi's shoulder. They both try to look as if this is normal but aren't quite sure they are convincing. TJ hurriedly walks her to the table. Amber grabs Cyrus' hand and follows her brother and girlfriend.

They quickly sit around the long table. Andi and TJ on one side, and Amber and Cyrus on the other. The adults filled in the spaces in between as the begin to eat. It isn't long before their grandmother starts interrogating their "dates." Their parents stay quiet for the most part, letting their grandmother lead the conversation.

She starts with Andi. "Andi, that's an interesting name."

"Yeah, I guess." Andi awkwardly replies, not knowing what to say to that.

"A girl with such a unique name must have an exciting life. Tell me about yourself, dear."

"Well, I go to SAVA and focus on painting and sculpture. But I also love photography." Amber looks intently on Andi as she speaks. The way she always does, like she is holding onto every word.

"Really?" Their grandma seems genuinely interested, as well as the other adults there. There dad asks, "What is your favorite thing to photograph?"

"I love doing candid shots of people, like I got this really great shot of Amber a few weeks ago." As soon as she realizes what she said, she freezes.

But it doesn't seem to phase anyone. Their grandfather says "Doesn't surprise me, our Amber could be a model. Isn't that right, Cyrus?" He elbows the brunette boy next to him, smiling.

"Yes sir. She is beautiful." Cyrus smiles before taking Amber's hand over the table. What no one sees is he and TJ playing footsie across the table.

TJ gets the hint that he should probably say something. "Andi's pictures are amazing. She has these great pictures of all her friends. Like there is this really good one of Cyrus on the swings and it's like black and white. It's such a good picture." Andi smiles.

"Teej, you know I hate that one." Cyrus replies.

As if she was speaking for TJ, Amber replies "You know how much I love that picture. You look so cute." TJ looks down and smiles to himself.

Their grandmother clears her throat. "Anyhow, what about you Cyrus? What do you got going on?"

"Well, I write for the school newspaper and am in the drama club."

Mrs. Kippen, their mother speaks for the first time all night. "I used to write for Grant's newspaper back in my day. What do you write on?" She grins.

"Mainly I'm assigned sports, specifically basketball related news since I am at every game anyhow."

"You like basketball?" Their grandfather questions.

"Not really sure. But I understand it a lot better now. I am at all the girl's games because our friend, Buffy is on the team. And of course I am at the boy's games because of TJ." Their grandmother shoots him a questioning look. "You know, Andi is my best friend so of course she drags me along to see her boyfriend play." He says, saving them from an awkward situation.

Dinner continues on without any more close calls. The teens all play their part well. That is until desert. Their grandmother brought out a decadent pie she baked. Everyone was welcome to cut off a slice. Cyrus goes to cut a small slice, when the knife slips, cutting his finger. He hisses in pain as he brings the finger to his face to examine the cut.

Without thinking, when he sees Cyrus hurt herself, TJ blurts out. "Are you okay, Muffin?" The room goes silent and TJ's heart drops.

His grandmother coldly asks "Why did you just call this boy, muffin?"

TJ looks down before saying, "I need to go." He dashes out of the room and to the backyard. As he does, Amber notices the look of sadness and fear in his face. She has now switched to full on protective sibling mode. Meanwhile Cyrus, without hesitation goes after him.

The old woman turns her attention to Amber. "What is going on?" Their parents look at the girl in equal confusion.

Amber takes a deep breath before standing up from the table. Andi looks at her, waiting to follow her lead. "Grandma, I know you know what is going on."

Her grandmother plays dumb. "What are you talking about?"

"Come on, it's the elephant in the room that none of you want to talk about. I see the way grandma and grandpa look at me and TJ." She turns to her parents. "I see the way you two look at us, so how about you ask me?"

"Ask you what, young lady?" Her mother replies.

"Ask me if I am a lesbian, mom." Her mother turns away, refusing to meet her daughter's eyes. Andi takes this as her cue to walk around the table and stand behind Amber, ready to be her support.

Through clenched teeth, Amber commands again. "ASK ME IF I'M GAY."

Her grandmother speaks next. "Don't talk to your parents like that!"

"Well then, how about I talk to you like that, then?! Grandma, you know the truth! I see it in your eyes. You know what I am. What TJ is!"

"Amber! Calm yourself!" The older woman replies. "We are not going to discuss this! You have no idea what you are talking about!"

"Yes, we are!" The blonde explodes. Tears mixed with anguish and rage stream down her face. "I'm tired of not talking about this! I'm tired of pretending! You need to accept that you have two QUEER grandkids." She turns to her parents. "You have two QUEER kids." Neither of her parents look at her. Her grandfather stares at his plate. The only person staring at her is her grandmother.

In a calm, icy voice, the woman speaks. "You are a disgrace. This behavior is embarrassing and honestly I feel bad for you. You are so confused." Amber freezes, hoping her parents stand up for her but no one speaks. Tears fall harder.

No one, but Andi. Andi grabs Amber's hand. The younger girl says defyingly. "Amber is the best person I know. She loves harder than anyone I know. She puts her heart out there and trusted me enough to protect it." Andi smiles softly before her features contort to anger as she stares at the adults around her."She deserves the world, not a family who treats her like this. I never want to see her cry, especially at the hands of the people that should love her the most."

The room is quiet. Andi starts to pull Amber to the backyard where the boys are.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Meanwhile, Cyrus had followed TJ outside. TJ slams his fist into the banister on the back patio. "Fuck. I messed up everything."

Cyrus comes up behind him and wraps his arms around the older boy. He rests his head on his shoulder. "You didn't mess up anything."

"Cy, I slipped up. They are all going to know." His voice cracks.

"You are fine, Teej. They are the ones who forced you to lie."

TJ looks down trying to hold himself together. Cyrus slips his hands off TJ so he can get to the side of him so they could look at each other, with TJ turning his body so they staring face-to-face. When he sees the fear in TJ's face and eyes, polluting every beautiful part of him, it breaks his heart. They both hear yelling from the inside. Amber is confronting the family.

"Oh god…" TJ says guiltily. "I just left Amber in there to deal with this. Now I'm an even bigger fuck up."

Before Cyrus could answer, they hear Andi defending Amber and TJ smiles if only for a moment. Cyrus whispers, "Hey you know the same goes for you too. You don't deserve to have your family hurt you. You deserve only love." Cyrus promises. Instinctively, TJ buries his face into Cyrus' shoulder as the brunette wraps his arms around TJ.

Just then, Andi and Amber walk outside. Andi is holding onto Amber like she is trying to keep the other girl from falling into pieces. They step closer. "Cy?" Andi asks.

"Yea?" Cyrus whispers in return.

"Let's get out of here. I think we all know they aren't sleeping at their house tonight."

Cyrus nods. That night, all 4 of them had a sleepover at Andi's. They weren't sure on the plan for the next day. But that night, all that mattered was being together.

#andi mack #Tyrus #ambi #tj kippen #amber kippen #cyrus goodman #Andi #disaster gay TJ #disaster lesbian Amber #Amber is the lesbian queen who deserves the world.

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destiel-love-forever · 5 years

Text

Just Shut Up & Kiss Me Already

"How about combine #14 Pretend Dating and #29 “Just shut up and kiss me already.” - Adoptdon’tshoppets) ** I added some bedsharing into this because I couldn’t help myself

Castiel has to go to yet another Thanksgiving with his parents/family who think he's not living up to his potential. He begs his best friend/roommate of eight years (who just so happens to be the man he loves.... and straight) to come with him for the weekend. The catch? Castiel wants him to pretend to be in a relationship with him to get his parents off his back....

Will Castiel survive the weekend?

Will Dean be able to continue denying his not so straight feelings towards his best friend?

READ BELOW OR ON AO3 HERE: JUST SHUT UP & KISS ME ALREADY

Just Shut Up & Kiss Me Already

When Dean finishes laughing, he wipes tears from his eyes and looks at his best friend. His smile slips when he sees that Castiel isn't happy. At all. In fact, Castiel looks devastated.

"Wait, you're serious?" Dean asks in shock.

Castiel's face turns bright red. "Yes. It's just… my family is a lot to handle. And they've been on me for years to find someone. It'll be an entire weekend of them making me feel like shit. I just thought it'd be easier to bring you and pretend. But you're right. That's- that would be stupid. I shouldn't have asked, Dean. I'm - I'm sorry."

"No, no Cas, wait! I just thought you were fucking with me. We can - I mean - sure. Why not, right? It's not like we have to fuck. I don't have to pretend to like you, so it'll be easy.”

Castiel perks up, eyes going wide. "You don't have to pretend?"

"Of course not." Dean grins at him. "You're my best friend, man."

"Oh. Right. Of course. Me too - I - me too. For not having to pretend. Because of the best friend thing." Castiel has to look away from Dean, focusing instead on the plant in the corner. "We leave tomorrow then. Pack a suit."

“A suit?” Dean asks in confusion. “Isn’t it just Thanksgiving at your house?”

Castiel laughs. “No holiday is just a holiday at the Novak’s. Trust me. Bring a suit.”

"Alright."

Dean starts to laugh and Castiel looks back at him, lifting an eyebrow in question. "What?"

"Nothin'. Just picturing myself pretending to be gay. I'm gonna rock it. Don't worry, Cas. They'll never know I'm not into dick."

Feeling his face flush and his eyes burn, Castiel forces a fragile smile and nods once. "I know, Dean. You'll be perfect. You always are."

Dean doesn't notice that Castiel is talking about something much bigger than this. It doesn't matter, though. Castiel knew better than to fall in love with a straight man, but he did so anyway. This is his punishment. 72 hours pretending to be in a happy relationship with the man he loves… his straight best friend.

---------

Castiel stands in front of the house, feet seemingly glued to the sidewalk. Shifting his duffel bag over his shoulder, Dean looks between his best friend and the house, finally asking, “Is this it?”

“Yup.”

“Are we expecting one of those groups of people that come out with chairs and you get to sit on it and they carry you inside? Because I’m pretty sure that’s like a Jewish thing, and you aren’t Jewish.”

The smile Castiel gives him is full of anxiety, nowhere near what it usually is. Dean has an uncanny talent at making Castiel Novak smile or laugh in the worst of situations, but it’s not working. Shit. It’s not working. How does he help, then? Other than his humor? Dean’s sarcasm and jokes are supposed to work. They’re what he hides behind.

Clearing his throat awkwardly, Dean says in a soft - hopefully comforting - voice, “Everything will be alright, Cas. You said they’re not that bad, right?”

“Right. Just extremely judgemental, with high expectations that set you up to fail, while all skilled at the art of passive aggressiveness.” Castiel finally looks Dean in the eyes, this time his smile so sad it breaks Dean’s heart. “It will be alright. I know. Just - I’m just trying to get the energy.”

“Take your time.”

Just as Dean is saying this, the front door is opening and a woman in a pristine form-fitting white dress and black heels calls, “Whatever do you think you’re doing out here, Castiel? The neighbors probably think you’ve gone insane. Get inside! It’s freezing.”

Releasing a deep sigh, Castiel steps forward. “Happy Thanksgiving,” he mumbles to himself. He startles when Dean slips his hand in his, big blue eyes looking up at him in shock. Then he must remember that they’re in a fake relationship because he squeezes back in thanks and smiles a genuine smile. The first one since they arrived.

Alright, if humor won’t work, then Dean will do this. He’ll be the perfect boyfriend. Dean will touch Castiel constantly, in one way or another, and never leave his side.

--------

“So, Dean. You and Castiel have been friends for quite a while, right?” Mrs. Novak says with a clearly fake smile, eyes narrowed in on him.

“Yes, ma’am.” Dean smiles at Castiel, reaching beneath the table and touching his knee. Castiel doesn’t understand why he keeps doing that. Touching him. Always fucking touching him. Can’t he tell he sets Castiel’s body on fire every time his fingertips brush him? “Roommates freshman year. I think I met you when he moved into the dorm, ma’am.”

“Ah. Yes.” She smirks as she reaches for her glass of wine. “The boy with the posters.”

If Dean catches onto that being an insult, he doesn’t show it. Before he can respond to Castiel’s mom, though, Castiel’s father steps in. “What was it that you were majoring in again, Mr. Winchester? Do you work?”

Castiel wants to roll his eyes but refrains.

“Biomedical Engineering, sir,” Dean answers. “I am currently heading a team to work on artificial organ development.”

“Impressive. It’s always good when someone gets a practically degree,” Castiel’s father says casually.

“Yes,” his mother agrees. “A degree with an actual career. You’re very smart, Dean. Lucifer and Michael are both doctors. Have you spoken to them?” she asks, gesturing to the two brothers to Dean’s left.

Lucifer looks at Dean with a judgemental eye scan. “We’ll have to discuss the work you’re doing over some scotch and cigars after dessert.”

One look at Dean, and Castiel knows he wants so badly to tell Lucifer he’s more of a beer and cigarettes kind of guy, but Dean says nothing. He just gives Lucifer a curt nod and takes a drink of his wine that Castiel knows he hates, because Dean winces after every sip.

“And Anna,” his mother adds, gesturing to Castiel’s only sister. “She’s in law school. And Gabriel is pursuing a phD.”

Dean squeezes Castiel’s knee without looking at him. “Castiel is working on his second novel. Has he told you about it?”

“Mmm,” Castiel’s mother says, flicking her eyes at her son in disgust. “Yes. Well. Brave of him, after the first one.”

“The first one did well,” Dean defends.

“Yes. You’re right, Dean. For a man just starting out, I suppose it did fine.”

“Actually-” Dean starts, but Castiel jumps in before his best friend of eight years throws himself on the train tracks to defend him. “Mother, the meal was lovely.”

His mother gives him a sickly sweet smile. “Yes, well, it’s all Greta could do with all of her preparations for Thanksgiving tomorrow.”

“Castiel,” Mr. Novak says abruptly. “Have you thought anymore about how you’ll be using your trust fund?”

“I already told you, father,” Castiel nearly growls. “I’m donating it.”

“Of course. Yes. Taking care of those who are too lazy to take care of themselves.” His father scoffs. “My liberal son. Pride and joy.”

Gabriel groans from the other side of the table where Castiel has been watching him sneak bites of the dessert while everyone was too distracted being assholes with fake smiles. “Politics is where I draw the line. Can we all just stop talking about jobs and views and money? Let’s have dessert. Doesn’t it look delicious?”

Everyone, even Castiel’s parents, smiles fondly at Gabriel. The middle child who has no pressure on him for some reason Castiel’s never understood. Gabriel changed majors like outfits. Slept around. Took two extra years to graduate. Got arrested in Mexico once and needed their father to help get him back here and free of any charges. His phD? It’s in fucking philosophy.

Castiel sinks back in his chair and takes a deep breath as the dessert begins to get dished out. It’s then that he realizes that Dean still has his hand on Castiel’s leg, skimming his thumb back and forth along his jeans. Tentatively, Castiel places his hand over Dean’s. Their fingers slot together and Castiel hasn't felt so grounded, so safe, in a long time.

--------

"You can have the bed," Castiel says softly, looking completely drained. "I'll sleep on the floor."

Dean rolls his eyes as he starts to unbuckle his belt. "Don't be ridiculous. You'll sleep with me."

Castiel's eyes track Dean's every move, something he hasn't done in years. Dean knows Castiel always found him attractive, but Castiel stopped looking at Dean like he is now once he found out Dean's straight. Then they became best friends. He barely looks at Dean at all anymore, always paying attention to the world instead.

Before, it had made Dean uncomfortable. He would always turn his back. Undress quickly. Jump under the covers.

Not anymore.

Dean kind of likes it. He refuses to analyze why.

Instead, he focuses on taking his time. Stepping out of his jeans and slowly reaching behind his head to grab his shirt, Dean looks at Castiel again. Their eyes meet. Castiel's hands are paused in the middle of unbuttoning his cardigan, his smooth pale chest and stomach exposed to Dean's gaze. Dean has been dragging him to the gym to keep him from sitting at home too much. He didn't do it with the intention of making Castiel look any better, because Castiel always looks good - not like… in a gay way - but Dean finds himself appreciating the view now.

Why does he feel like this looking at Castiel? Sure, he's had these urges before. Ever since he met him even. But they were always explainable. Like when Dean walked in on Castiel watching porn and jacking off, and Dean had to force himself to leave instead of offering help - something completely justified because porn makes anyone horny, right? So of course he hesitated. Porn is distracting. Hot. Other times, the pull comes when they're drunk - clearly Dean's inhibitions are lowered and his mind isn't thinking clearly. There was the one time, when Castiel got this douchebag boyfriend and Dean found him screaming in Castiel's face one night, Dean beat the shit out of him and then looked at Castiel whose face was covered in tears and told him he deserved better - but that was just Dean being protective of his best friend. Sometimes it's really late at night, when Dean can't sleep and Castiel keeps him company - but that's because of Dean's exhaustion, that's all. Sometimes it-

Dean looks away from Castiel and hurries to pull his shirt over his head, hiding his face as the realization hits him. He feels like this too often. All the fucking time. What does that mean? Why does he want to slam Castiel against the wall and fuck him right now? Why does he want to lay him down on that bed and give him comforting kisses?

---------

If Castiel didn't know better, he'd think Dean was checking him out. Of course, after 8 years, he knows better. Dean's straight. Even if Castiel sometimes feels like Dean wants him, like when he walked in on Castiel masturbating that one time and stared in awe as he licked his lips, or when they go out to the bars or parties and they get a little too drunk and Dean gets a little too close, or when Castiel was dating Jason and Dean beat him up for yelling at Castiel and calling him names, and Dean wiped the tears from Castiel's face as he whispered softly about Castiel deserving better, or when Castiel keeps Dean company if Dean has his nightmares and they cuddle without calling it cuddling on the couch, but Castiel knows those times mean nothing. Just wishful thinking, same as right now.

Castiel climbs into the bed quickly, pulling the covers up to hide his body. He's suddenly regretting his habit of sleeping in boxers. If he tried to wear pjs, Dean would call him out, because Dean knows Castiel can't stand sleeping with clothes on. The downfall of living with the man for 8 years now. Dean knows everything. Except, hopefully, the fact that Castiel is in love with him.

Dean climbs in beside Castiel and if Castiel didn't know better - which, once again, he does - he'd think Dean was closer to him than he needed to be on the big bed. Their bare shoulders press close together and Castiel's body erupts in goosebumps.

"So, your family," Dean starts.

"Yeah."

"Gabe's cool."

Castiel laughs softly, nodding. "He is."

"I had a beer with him out on the porch while you went off with Anna. From the sound of it, you're more successful and put together than he is."

"I've never really understood it, but for some reason that doesn't matter to anyone."

"Well, it should." Dean scoffs. "And your book. How can they say that's not good? It was a bestseller, and it was brilliant. Your writing, Cas, it - it's so fucking good. And I'm not saying that out of obligation."

Feeling his face heat up, Castiel looks away from Dean and toward the wall. "I doubt any of them have read it, besides Gabe."

This makes Dean adjust in the bed. Out of curiosity, Castiel looks back at him. He shouldn't have. Dean is up on an elbow, staring down at him with those beautiful green eyes wide. "Seriously? Fuck. I hate them. Family doesn't do this. Doesn't treat you like this."

"It's okay, Dean."

"It's not!"

"Dean." Castiel gently pulls Dean until he's lying down again. They both turn on their sides so they can look at each other in the dim lamp light. "It doesn't matter. I've got my own family. People I can count on and trust. People who love me for me and cheer me on even in the worst of times. Charlie. Chuck. Balthazar. Sam." He pauses, biting his bottom lip, then whispers, "You."

This seems to make Dean feel better because his body relaxes. "Then why did we come instead of going to friendsgiving with everyone?"

"Because I want Christmas with you guys, and my family would fucking explode if I skipped both."

Dean sighs. Castiel can tell he's frustrated, but Dean also understands. He has his own set of family issues.

"We'll get through this, Cas. Together. I promise."

"Yeah," Castiel whispers, noticing that Dean just settled his hand on Castiel's hip. His thumb starts doing the stroking thing again. He wants to ask Dean why he's touching him when no one is around to see the show, but he's afraid it would make him stop. When Castiel says, "Together," as a confirmation, his voice is breathy and embarrassing.

He hopes Dean doesn’t notice.

---------

Dean wakes up from one of his constant nightmares. He slips out of the bed, not wanting to wake Castiel, and tugs on a pair of sweats. The Novak house is ridiculously huge but he eventually finds his way to the kitchen. Hopefully after a glass of water and maybe a sneak outside for some fresh air, he’ll be able to fall asleep again. It’s wishful thinking. The only way Dean ever falls back asleep after his nightmares is if Castiel talks to him. He always does this thing where he plays with Dean’s hair, speaking in this incredibly smooth voice that sends these waves of calm over Dean. He never even says anything important. Just rambles about things like plot arcs or character development or some article he read about cats.

The memories make Dean smile, but then an overwhelming surge of panic floods him like it did earlier. Something is happening between him and Castiel. Something that Dean thinks has been happening for years.

Something Dean can't keep ignoring.

Just as Dean is taking his water and heading toward the sliding door that leads to the deck out back, he catches movement to his right. He turns his head and comes face to face with Gabriel, Castiel's brother. The man looks quite somber compared to his earlier goofiness. In fact, he might even look angry.

"Can't sleep?" Gabriel grunts, giving Dean a look Dean has no idea how he earned.

"Uh. No. Never really can." Dean awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. "You?"

"I sleep just fine." Gabriel looks at the doors Dean was obviously about to open. "Mind if I join you?"

Dean wants to say yes because Gabriel looks upset and he's kind of afraid to find out why, but instead he nods and leads the way. The second the doors are closed behind them, Gabriel is stalking toward Dean.

"Listen up, Winchester. If you're playing a fucking game with him, or if you're just trying out the whole gay thing for funsies, I'll fucking destroy you. He can lie all he wants to everyone else about you two being together for months now and all that bullshit, but he talks to me all the time. I know the real story. And I think you're sick for fucking with his heart like this."

Opening and closing his mouth in shock, Dean manages to sputter out, "What? What story?"

"I know you two are faking Dean. I'm the one that gave him the fucking idea. Except he wasn't supposed to ask you, but apparentally my brother is a masochist." Before Dean can ask him to elaborate, Gabriel continues his rant. "But I saw you with him today. The looks you keep giving him. The touching even when no one is around. That stupid charming smile. He's loved you for 8 years now, and no I don't feel bad about telling you that because it's not like it was a secret, right Dean? You've known. Guys like you always know."

Dean's throat starts to close and his hands shake. This is what he came out here to think about, but he didn't plan to get it shoved down his fucking throat. He can't breathe.

Gabriel fills the open silence. He's apparentally quite good at that. "Just let the poor guy go if you don't want him, Dean. Stop this."

"I'm not doing anything," Dean finally says, his voice shaky and weak.

"Come on buddy. Don't pretend you're stupid. You're not."

"I don't-" Dean stops himself. He hangs his head and closes his eyes. "I don't know what to do. What I want. I - I'm not gay."

Gabriel scoffs. "Who the fuck cares? That's a label. Nothing more."

When Dean looks up at him, feeling a confused but desperate hope swelling in his chest, Gabriel rolls his eyes. "Do you love my brother?"

"Yes." It's not even a question.

"Do you find him attractive?"

"I - yeah."

"Not in the 'oh yeah I'll admit that man is good looking' way but in the 'holy shit he's so fucking hot and beautiful and I need to kiss him' way."

Blushing, Dean looks out at the darkness that should be the yard. Part of him wants to jump into it and let it swallow him whole. The other wants to finally step into the light and tell the fucking truth. To Gabe. To Castiel. To himself.

"Yeah," he whispers to the darkness.

"Are you in love with him?"

Dean closes his eyes. Is he? He's never been before. Always thought he was one of those people that can't. It's supposed to be all crazy butterflies, right? Adrenaline. Intoxicated feelings as you kiss and fuck. Screaming matches in fits of passion. Getting drunk off smiles. Unable to breathe without each other. A rollercoaster. Isn't that what people are always comparing it to?

When Dean thinks of Castiel, he doesn't think of chaos or instability. Dean thinks of soft rain on the roof as they lay together on the couch in the middle of the night. He thinks of safety. Peace. Warmth. Calm. When Dean thinks of Castiel, he thinks of home.

If it's up to Dean, he thinks that's what love should be like. The lighthouse in the storm.

"I have to tell him," Dean tells Gabriel.

"No," Gabriel says quietly.

It's so unexpected that Dean flinches. "What?"

"Tell him when you get home, Dean."

"Why?"

Gabriel chuckles, but it's dry. "For one? You need to think this over, because I'm serious about the killing you thing. You better fucking be sure before talking to him. And second? Do you really want to do that here? His least favorite place in the damn world? Where you can't, ya know, celebrate? Hell, can't even have a deep conversation about it?"

Dean grits his teeth. Gabriel is right.

But he's already waited 8 fucking years.

Dean's not sure he will survive another 24 hours.

-------

Castiel stabs another piece of turkey, causing Dean to jump for the third time beside him. He avoids what he knows is a concerned look from his best friend by focusing on his plate instead.

"-just saying," his mother continues, as if she can't see Castiel is clearly upset. "The least you could do is be a father. That's useful. What do you do all day? Sit around and read books? Write? Those are hobbies. At least be a stay at home father if you're so set on not having a real career."

"When I grow a womb," Castiel growls, emphasizing the last syllable with another stabbed piece of turkey. "I'll let you know, mother."

"Well, you could adopt. Or do a surrogate. You have the money, thanks to us of course." His mother turns her fake smile onto Dean. "Do you want children, Dean?"

Castiel closes his eyes as he feels Dean tense up beside him. For the first time all weekend, Castiel touches Dean first, pushing his crush aside and being a good friend by placing a hand on his thigh. He squeezes once. A silent apology. Dean's hand rests over his, holding him there.

For a moment, Castiel is back in their apartment, senior year of college. Dean wasted beyond belief, crying with his head in Castiel's lap. Admitting he can't ever be a father. Believing he has too much of John Winchester in his blood to even risk it.

"No, ma'am. I don't think it's in the cards for me," Dean says in a strangled voice.

"Why not?"

"That's personal, mother," Castiel says through gritted teeth.

His mother just shrugs. "I just want to make sure it's not a financial thing. You could always keep your trust fund, you know. Use it to make Dean happy."

"God dammit, mother!" Castiel bursts, his fork clattering to the table. He can feel his eyes burning and his throat clogging, so he hurries to choke out what he wants to say before he falls apart. "Dean's going to be happy, okay? Wanna know why? He's not with me. It's all a lie. So don't feel bad for Dean, the poor biomedical engineer who is stuck with your sorry excuse of a son, because he's not. He's free to be with some ambitious blonde bimbo for all I care!"

As he shoves away from the table and storms off, Castiel hears his father barking at him to not speak to his mother like that and come back and apologize. Castiel just scoffs. He tries to slam the door of his bedroom, planning to immediately pack his and Dean's shit so they can go, but something stops the door and the satisfying slam never comes. He turns and finds Dean quietly closing the door instead.

He looks gorgeous in his suit. Castiel has had to keep himself from telling him that all night. Now that he's drunk and clearly not thinking straight, he's worried it might pour out if he opens his mouth, so he keeps it firmly sealed.

"Thank you," Dean begins, still looking at the door. "You didn't have to do that. I could have handled it."

Castiel calculates every word, every syllable, before cautiously parting his lips. "You shouldn't have to handle it, Dean. I'm sorry for even making you do this in the first place."

"Cas-"

"Can we just go?"

"Yes. Of course." Without another word, Dean begins to pack alongside him. They move together in a comfortable silence that, under the circumstances, shouldn't be able to even exist. That's something he always loved about Dean. His willingness to just be. It's hard to find people like that. People who can settle the storm inside your soul and make it so you can breathe.

No one tries to stop them. Castiel gets a wink from Gabriel when they pass by with their bags, and he gives him a nod back. They'll see each other in a week or two, Castiel is sure. They'll probably talk on the phone tomorrow. But Castiel won't out Gabriel to his parents. Not when Castiel just raised his status in the family from the black sheep the public enemy number one.

"Where to?" Dean asks when he slides behind the wheel.

Castiel looks out the window, hoping to hide that he's crying. "Home."

--------

They don't get home until two in the morning. Dean feels dead on his feet, especially since he didn't sleep the night before, but Castiel is more important. The man is a breath away from breaking down. Dean needs to stop him.

"Bottle of wine and popcorn," Dean instructs when they drop their bags on the floor beside the front door. "I'll turn on Queer Eye."

Castiel smiles softly. "It's late, Dean. You're tired."

"Wait a minute. Mark the calendar. Castiel Novak just turned down an opportunity to watch Queer Eye!"

"I hate you." Castiel tries to glare at him but it's a pathetic attempt. He ends up dramatically sighing and rolling his eyes. "Fiiiine. One episode. Grab the big blanket from my room, too. It's cold in here."

Five minutes later, they're pressed close together in the middle of the couch - even though there's plenty of room on each side of them - covered in Castiel's huge purple fuzzy blanket, eating popcorn and drinking Moscato.

Halfway through the episode, just as Antoni is about to teach what sounds like a delicious dessert, Dean pauses it. He can't wait any longer.

Castiel looks over at him in confusion, and something on Dean's face must give him away because Castiel's body tenses. "What's wrong?"

"I need to talk to you." Dean clears his throat, unsure of where to even start. "I've been thinking about this for longer than I'd like to admit, but I don't know. Just - promise no matter what, we stay friends, okay? I just have to get it off my chest and then we can move on if that's what you want to do."

Instead of looking confused or curious like Dean expected, Castiel looks terrified. His hands tighten around the blanket until his knuckles turn white. "Dean, I'm sorry. I never-"

"No. Wait. Just let me - I need to say it, Cas. Please?"

"Yeah, okay," Castiel whispers, looking ready to cry. "Go ahead."

"I never told you this, but you were the first openly gay person I ever met. In a town like mine growing up, no one would dare come out. So, when we met and we started living together, I was - I dunno. I was curious, I guess? I dunno. It felt so wrong I guess. Not wrong just - shit, this isn't going like I want it to." Dean rakes a hand through his hair. "You were just this thing that everyone told me growing up was bad and to stay away from, but I just couldn't, and not because you were my roommate but because you were like this forbidden fruit. So the first time I - the first time I felt anything, toward you I mean, I thought it was that. Just the allure of the mystery. Fascination."

Castiel shakes his head. "I don't-"

"Let me finish. Please. Just - let me explain."

"Okay."

Dean launches to his feet and begins to pace. "Then we became best friends, and the pull I felt was stronger. But it wasn't sexual. I didn't want to fuck you. I just wanted - fuck, I don't know. I wanted you safe. Happy. I wanted to be the one you came to on the best and the worst days. I told myself it was because we were getting to be like brothers. And whenever it felt like more than that, I rationalized it away. Reasoned with myself. Convinced myself."

Hoping to gauge how this mess is going so far, Dean pauses, taking in Castiel's features. The man is flushed and slightly trembling, but his brows are raised and his eyes are wide with what is unmistakably hope.

Please let it be the right kind of hope.

"I won't go through 8 years, Cas. It would take days, if I'm being honest, because once I admitted it to myself I realized I've been lying for so fucking long. Since the beginning."

"The beginning of what? Lying about what?" Castiel asks, his voice vibrating lower than usual.

"The beginning of us. And lying to myself about it. About what was really going on. What I was feeling. What I wanted."

"Dean, I don't-"

"I'm in love with you, Cas," Dean blurts, unable to choke it down any longer. Then everything - 8 years worth of things - comes pouring out. "I love the way you say you hate my music but secretly sing along under your breath. I love your hair in the mornings, and your sleepy smile. Your stupid ugly socks. Your books all over the place, usually still open like you just got up mid sentence and never came back. I love that you get into fights with the characters you write. I love that, without fail, you end up reading the entire Harry Potter series every fall, because the pumpkins remind you of that scene in book one, and according to you you can't just read book one and then 'abandon' the characters like that. I love that you will literally throw down and fight anyone who doesn't agree that Faulkner is a brilliant writer. I love that you're always losing or breaking your glasses. What are you on now, since we met, huh? Pair 30? 31?"

"33," Castiel breathes.

"Exactly." Dean grins. "I love that. I love - I love all of it. I love you. I love-"

"Dean."

Dean's breath catches. Oh no. He's going to stop Dean. Castiel is going to tell him he doesn't feel the same way.

Gathering himself, Dean meets those familiar blue eyes and whispers, "Yeah?"

"Just shut up and kiss me already."

#destiel #destiel fanfic #pretend dating #fake relationship #roommates #best friends #thanksgiving #the novak family sucks #writer castiel #angst #mutual pining #pining #love confessions #first kiss

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onegayastronaut · 5 years

Text

The Best Field Trip (Hope Mikaelson x Reader)

Requested by anon: Hope fic when she takes you to visit New Orleans and she shows you the mikaelson mansion, the bayou, Rousseau’s and it’s really just a sweet fluffy moment when your there bcz you know how hard it is for her but she wants to show you all her good memories she has. And it ends with y’all spending the night in her old room at the mikaelson manor and it’s your first time.

Word count: 3081 Hope’s head rested on your shoulder as you drove the car. You two were on your way to New Orleans, and you were excited about seeing the place where your girlfriend grew up. It had taken almost a year for her to open up to you, and you were glad that she had finally felt more comfortable being around you. It had taken a lot of trust on her part to open up about her past in New Orleans. You were glad to finally be a part of her inner circle. As far as you knew, you were the only person who was not a Mikaelson that knew what had happened to her family. You were beyond grateful over the fact that she trusted you so much, and you kissed the top of Hope’s head. Predictably, she scooted closer to you and mumbled something about wanting more beignets. Hope was always hungry, and she was always either thinking about food or you (or most likely, both at the same time).

You were about 100 miles away from New Orleans when Hope woke up, and she lifted her head to look out the window. Even though her hands never left yours, you still missed the warmth that she provided. “We’re almost there!” Hope’s voice was still thick with sleep, but you could tell that she was excited. Even though many bad things had happened to her in this city, it would always be home. “Let me drive. I think my family would react better if they saw me behind the wheel.”

When you got to the passenger side of the car, the seat smelled of Hope’s perfume, and you dozed off before you knew it. Driving had taken out more energy that you realized. It seemed like time passed quicker when you weren’t driving (or maybe Hope was more liberal with the gas pedal than you were) because when you woke up, Hope was pulling the car up to the driveway of a huge mansion. Hope had mentioned that she had lived in a relatively large house that had been in the Mikaelson family for centuries, but you didn’t realize she was talking about an actual mansion. Hope leaned over and gave you a light kiss. “We’re here.”

Before you could react and get out of the car, Hope had already appeared on your side of the car and opened your car door for you. It was through these small acts that Hope showed you how much she cared about you, and it never ceased to make you blush. Just as you got out of the car, you heard a voice call out, “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the princess of New Orleans! And if I’m not mistaken, this is the beautiful girlfriend that I keep hearing about.”

“Marcel! You’re here! Does this mean that Aunt Rebekah is here too?”

“The whole family made their way here the moment they heard that you were planning on visiting. They’re beyond excited to see you. And your girlfriend too, of course.” Marcel winked at you as you talked.

“Is she here? Did she bring (Y/N) with her?” Kol emerged from the house with Davina, and he immediately went over to hug Hope.

“How does everyone already seem to know (Y/N)?” Marcel pretended to sound hurt.

“Because I am her favorite uncle, that’s why. Isn’t that right, Hope?” Kol upturned his nose in Marcel’s direction.

“Well, it seems as if both of you conveniently forgot to get your niece her favorite snacks. “Rebekah appeared behind you holding a bag of beignets. She came over to give you a hug. “How are you doing, (Y/N)? Is Hope treating you alright?”

“She is the best girlfriend I could ask for, Ms. Mikaelson.”

“She should be, I taught her all the charms that come with being a Mikaelson after all. Also, I thought I said to call me Aunt Rebekah. You’re family now.” As she was talking, she handed Hope the paper bag containing the beignets which were devoured in record time.

“I think we should give these two lovebirds some private time. It’s (Y/N)’s first time here, and I think Hope would appreciate showing her girlfriend around without all of us butting into her business.” Marcel took Rebekah’s hand and the family moved out of the house. “We’ll be back in time for dinner, Hope.”

“That is, if there’s a house to come back to after you’re done with everything.” Kol gave you a cheeky wink, and it took you a minute to realize what he was talking about. When the realization dawned on your face, Kol let out a wicked cackle, and both Rebekah and Marcel gave him a poisonous glare. You turned around expecting Hope to deny having those thoughts about you, but all you saw was a flustered tribrid which caused your blush to deepen.

After the vampires and witches left, you felt like you could finally stare at the place where Hope called home for the beginning part of her life. You didn’t realize that Hope was watching you until she came up behind you and wrapped her arms around your waist. “It’s a beautiful place, isn’t it?”

“Not as beautiful as you are.”

Hope rolled her eyes as she kissed you on the cheek. “You’re so corny.”

“You know you love it.” You turned around so you could kiss her back. “What did you want to do now that you’re back here?”

“I was thinking about showing you the bayou where my mom lived and then going to Rousseau’s for a bite to eat. I can’t wait to show you my favorite places while I was here.”

“That sounds good!” You took Hope’s hand and the two of you made your way towards the edge of the city. You knew that the bayou was a very important place for Hope (apart from the Mikaelson mansion itself), and you couldn’t wait to see what was there.

The bayou was just as Hope had described it. The remaining Crescent wolves were hesitant to allow you on their land, but that was only to be expected. However, with a command from Hope, they stood down and let you in. If their alpha trusted you, they had no reason to think you would mean them any harm. After a few minutes of curiosity, they all went back to what they were doing before. All of them, except an older woman who came up to you and took your hand.

“Hello, dear. You seem hungry, would you like something to eat.”

“I’m always hungry. Any food would be greatly appreciated.” When you looked back to see if Hope was following you into the cabin, you saw her heading out on the makeshift wooden pier overlooking the lake. It seemed best to leave her to herself for the moment.

You were in the process of devouring your sixth brownie when you finally started to slow down. The older woman was looking at you with an amused smile, and she finally broke the silence. “I take it that you must be (Y/N)?”

“That’s me all right.”

“Hmm...Hope talks about you quite a lot. It’s very apparent that she is very in love with you.”

“I know, I love her a lot too. She’s everything to me.”

The woman nodded thoughtfully as she sipped at her coffee. “This is the first time she has been back here after...after what happened to her mother.” She made a vague gesture in the air when she spoke, and looked awkwardly away. “You do know what happened with her mother, right?”

“Only that she blames herself for her mom’s death. Other than that, she hasn’t gone into much detail, and I don’t think she would be comfortable with me pressing her for more information.”

“That makes sense.” The lady set down her cup. “Well, I’ve taken up enough of your time. You can join your girlfriend outside if you’d like.”

You took the plate of cookies out with you as you looked for Hope. She was sitting on the edge of the pier with her legs over the side, and you made your way over to her. It was only when you sat down next to her when you realized that she had been crying. Hope quickly wiped her face when you sat down next to her, and you took her hand.

“Want to talk about it?”

“No, no talking.” But as she leaned in closer to you, tears started falling down on her face as if they had a mind of their own. You immediately leaned over and hugged her tightly against your body. It didn’t take long for a few tears to turn into full on sobbing, and pretty soon her entire body was shaking against you. You had known that coming back to New Orleans would take a toll on her emotionally, but you didn’t realize how much she had been repressing her feelings.

It wasn’t until she ran out of tears that she started talking again. “My mom is dead because of me. If I didn’t have a crush on the wrong person, if I didn’t trust the wrong person, she would still be here with me. She sacrificed herself to save me, and for what? She’s gone, and there are times when I feel so alone.”

“You’re not alone. You have me, and the rest of your family. And from what you’ve told me about how your mom died, there was nothing that you could have done that would have stopped those supremacists from killing your mom. Your mom sacrificed herself so that you could live, and you cannot blame yourself for that. She would want to see you happy.”

“I just miss her so much, you know? There are days when all I want is to sit down and talk to her about my day. When I first knew I had feelings for you, I realized that the first person I wanted to tell was my mom. Now, because of me, you won’t ever have the opportunity to meet her and see how cool she is.”

“I’m pretty sure that if she could see us right now, she’d be really happy that you’re back. With someone as pretty as myself no less.” Your joke caused Hope to let out a weak laugh, and you were glad to have lightened her mood, if even for a moment.

“This might sound weird, but it feels like I can feel her presence with me when I’m sitting here. It’s like she’s right here with me. Tell me I’m wrong and just indulging myself too much.”

“I don’t think you’re being ridiculous. It’s only natural that you miss her, especially now that you’re back.” You kissed Hope on her forehead and Hope closed her eyes as she leaned into you. It always seemed as if you knew exactly what to do and say to make her feel better, and Hope was so glad that you understood what she needed so well.

“You know what would truly make me feel better? Going to Rousseau’s. I can’t wait for you to meet my friends there.”

“Anything that you want, babe.”

Going to the main street of downtown New Orleans was exactly as you expected. Drunk people lined the streets as lively music came from every corner. Rousseau’s was not hard to miss, as was proven by the amount of drunk people that tried to get in but were stopped by two very intimidating looking werewolves. Immediately recognizing Hope, they immediately moved aside to let her in. One of them teased her by saying, “Aren’t you still too young to be drinking?”

Hope rolled her eyes as you let out a little snort. “You know me, Mark. I won’t be drinking for a while yet.”

When you entered the bar, you could tell why your girlfriend loved this place so much. Vampires, witches, and werewolves sat side by side with drinks. Some were playing pool with each other, while a vampire and a werewolf were in an intense battle of darts. There were even a few humans in the mix, staring at the casual strength of the barhop lifting several crates at once. Hope skipped over to the bar, and the bartender quickly made a huge cup of her favorite drink: a peanut butter blast. You, on the other hand, just ordered a soda and sat next to your girlfriend.

“This place is certainly...lively.” You said as you watched a fight break out between two drunk werewolves.

“You should see this place during Mardi Gras.” Hope sighed contentedly as she put her head on your shoulder. “This place was pretty much my second home when I lived here. I have a lot of good memories with the people I liked. And now that you’re here with me, this is a memory that we have together.” After a brief moment of silence, Hope quietly said, “I don’t want this day to end.”

“And why might that be?”

“Today I got to make new memories in my favorite city with the person that I love the most. Now I can say that I’ve shown you my favorite places here in New Orleans.”

“I’m glad you shared your life with me today.” You were so happy to see that Hope seemed to be doing much better after having her favorite drink in her. “Where to next?”

“I was thinking about going back to the manor and just watching a movie together. I want to show you my room before we leave tomorrow morning.” Hope got up and reached over to take your hand.

The walk back to Hope’s house was quiet. It was the kind of comfortable silence that neither of you felt the need to fill, and you were back in front of Mikaelson Manor before you knew it. For some reason, the smell of melted wax was really strong, and you turned to Hope. “Do you smell that?”

“Yeah, I wonder what that is?” The question was answered the moment she opened the door, as candles lined up both sides of the hallway, up the stairs, leading to what you were assuming to where Hope’s room was. There were also flower petals carpeting the floor, and everything had a romantic feel to it. “This has Aunt Rebekah and Uncle Kol written all over it.” The heat in your face was rising by the minute, and when you looked over at Hope, you could tell that she was feeling the same way.

“Well, it seems like it’s pretty clear what we should be doing with this ambient mood.”

“We don’t have to. Unless you want to -- I would love to do what, I mean….if only you want to do it too if that’s...what you want to do.” Hope ended her rambling monologue with a deep blush and a vague gesture with her hands.

“I would love to do that,” you made the same hand gesture that Hope made. “If that’s what you want.”

“I would like that very much.” Hope kissed you and immediately picked you up and carried you towards her room. Her mouth traced a path down to your neck, and when she bit down on a sensitive part of your neck, you let out a moan that quickly turned into a giggle. This only served to encourage Hope as she found her bed and pushed you on top of it.

Right as she moved to unbutton your shirt, she paused and looked at you shyly. “Is this okay? We can stop and just watch a movie or something. Just because my family is making these suggestions doesn’t mean we have to do as they say.”

You shut her up by giving her a heated kiss. “Babe, unless you can actually find a valid excuse not to finish what we started, we’re doing this okay?”

Hope flashed you a little smile before attacking your neck again. Her hands moved with blinding speed to undress you, and her hands moved up and down your torso before she made her way down your body. By this point, you were beyond turned on and your hips automatically moved up. Hope stopped for a second to look at you. “Patience, babe. Let me take care of you.” Her hands moved down and held your hips in place, and your whine caused her to kiss you deeply again.

It seemed to take forever for her to get to where you needed her most, and when she did, it seemed like everything was magic. Her tongue hit all the right places right when you wanted it to, and the fact that she was in complete control in making you feel good was a turn-on in and of itself. It didn’t take you long to come, and she spent some time helping you settle down.

When she got up next to you, Hope wiped her mouth with her hand and grinned at you. “Was that fun?”

You rolled your eyes at her. “You know how much I liked that. Don’t get cocky now.”

“I’m always cocky. Good thing you taste so good.” Hope kissed you, and you could taste yourself on her lips. She knew how to turn you on with everything that she did, and you could tell how much she loved turning you on.

Hope lied down next to you, and you hugged her as she closed her eyes. She was so warm, and you loved how soft she was with you. You thought that she had dozed off, but after a minute, Hope spoke again. “Was today fun for you?”

“You could say that,” you teased. When you looked up, your tone got serious. “I’m so glad that I could see where you grew up. I hope this helps us as a couple, and I would like to come back to New Orleans more often, if that’s okay with you.”

Hope smiled gently as she moved a stray hair away from your face. “I would absolutely love to come back more often.” She kissed you, and the kiss quickly became more heated. “On that note, would you like to get back to what we were doing before?”

“We’re definitely not going to make it back tomorrow morning, are we?”

“Not if I have anything to do with it.” Hope’s teasing tone would be the death of you.

#hope mikaelson #hope mikaelson x reader #hope mikaelson imagine #legacies #legacies x reader #legacies imagine #18up

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disresemble-the-place · 5 years

Note

The first one was great! Can you do Wheezy next?

Aye I can!

Smarty’s is on AO3 for easy reading

He hadn’t been in this country for long.. in fact, it was only 2 weeks.

Honestly he thought he would feel liberated. That he finally could spread his wings, away from it all. But instead he felt more grounded than ever. Turns out this wasn’t the land of opportunity after all. Maybe if you were a funny one.. or a cute one. But for people like him? No dice.

It didn’t take long for him to end up downtown. Never much of a drinker but he good appreciate the bar crowd. Drunk people were something.. but at least they were honest. Plus they didn’t mind him smoking.

Most people smoked more than one cigarette at the time, so to blend in with the locals he did the same. He noticed that he looked different though. Not only was his fur a far different color, he was also taller than most.

Which eventually pissed someone off. He wasn’t trying to pick a fight, hell he was trying to avoid it.. but when the other took a swing at him, he hit him right in the jaw and broke it.

People saw.. and people talk. He feared for his life. While he didn’t know the details he knew that most weasels belonged to the Monroe family. And what a happy family it was from the stories. If you lay your hands on one of them, you could expect to be down in the dirty not long later.

The first thing he did was find some paper, he needed to write a letter to his family back home. “Didn’t make it. Don’t mourn me.” Swift, short, easy. He didn’t sleep, his eyes were already bloodshot from the new extreme smoking habit but there were even more red now. He was panicking but tried to not let it show.

Finding a post office was next. Which proved almost impossible. Before he could find one he was grabbed by two others. They were shorter and if he fought he could probably get free but it would only delay his death. Instead he went limp and let them drag him away.

He got two surprises that day;

One; Downtown had some nice places after all. The place he was brought too was a nice mansion type with a well kept garden and various rooms.

Two; He was still alive.

There were a few others in the room, but his eyes were mostly focussed on the one in front of him.

An older weasel, maybe his own dad’s age. It was hard to tell. While his fur was kept it was a little wilder than the other’s. He also seemed to have various scars all over his body which he tried to hide by combing his fur over it. It seems he was missing a tooth and didn’t bother to get a fake one. The outfit he was wearing made him look even more intimidating. While most others wore some splash of color he wore black from head to toe. Except from a golden wedding band on one of his fingers.

“I heard you beat up one of my men?” The voice was more pleasant than he expected, almost fatherly.

“I didn’t mean too..” Why did his voice sound so wheezy? It suddenly occurred that he hasn’t been speaking much since he arrived. “He tried to attack me and I got lucky and got a punch in.”

The other raised an eyebrow. “No.” He simply said. “You didn’t get lucky. You got skill.”

Somehow this filled him with pride. Back home he was taught to solve all conflict with words. Side effect of being a preacher’s son. He was scolded whenever he fought and yelled at whenever he offered solving something with violence.

“T.. thank you.”

“I’m Mateo. Current leader of the Monroe family. We mostly run this place. And by we, I mean I do. As long as I want you to be safe, you’re safe.”

Why was he telling him all this? Some build up to torture?

“I have children. The oldest will hopefully take my place when I have outlived my usefulness. But I fear he’s not ready yet. Too hot headed.. to smart ass-y..”

Oh god was he going to ask him to beat up his son!? He felt a bead of sweat rolling down his neck and into his shirt, which he also only now realised he hasn’t washed in a 2 weeks. He showered, sure but he hadn’t found a place to do laundry yet.

“But- where are my manners? What is your name?”

“Luka..”

“You’re not from here, are you?”

“No sir.”

“And that’s why you’re perfect..” Mateo smiled, now it was even more obvious he was missing a tooth. “No one here will truly stand up to my kid. They’re all afraid I’m going to hurt them. Which to their credit, I might.” He explained. “He knows this and abuses this power by being as annoying as possible. Which leads to me ‘firing’ them.” Luka didn’t really like the air quotes on that. “Which leads to him being himself, ruthless.. but entitled. I know i am to blame for this.. But I need this place to be in capable hands. Do you see where I am going with this?”

Luka shook no, better to be honest than to get in over your head.

“He needs a bodyguard. One that can teach him a thing or two about life. I want you to do that.”

He didn’t even give him the option to say no.

Mateo proved to be a man of his word. The next day he was introduced to the heir of the family and what a brat it was. He wore a pink suit with an obnoxious diamond on it. His fur was neatly kept and his nails clipped. His teeth were shiny and clean and he smelled like soap. Luka wondered if the kid has ever been outside. He looked to be in mint condition.

That alone didn’t make him a brat. No it was the temper tantrum he threw. He had seen one once before. Years ago when his brother was little.. Pretty sure his brother was 3 then.

After he stormed off, Mateo ordered him to follow him and not leave his side.

He didn’t want to open the door. Of course.

Now the door wasn’t locked. But he respected the other’s privacy after being denied entrance.

Luka sighed. Somehow being dead seemed like the better option. He eyed a vase in the hallway, maybe if he knocked it over he would still meet his end. He threw his head back and let himself slide to the floor. Maybe he would fall asleep like this. Even if he did the door opening behind him would wake him up.

After a few hours the door did indeed open and he fell backwards, he indeed had fallen asleep but like he hoped, the door shook him awake.

“Hòigh..” Luka said after fully recovering from his nap.

“Why are you still here.”

God even his voice sounded bratty. Though it wasn’t without it’s charm..

“Contract says I have to..”

“You could quit.” He couldn’t. He knew quitting would mean death. Maybe the other was playing with him. So he played back. “Can’t.. stand out too much.” He gestured towards is own body.

“Yeah that’s your personal problem.” The smaller one tried to move past him and Luka felt his blood boil. Was this kid always this annoying? He reacted by putting a hand on his shoulder and pushing him against the wall. He was pretty sure he caught the other blushing.

“Don’t make this hard.”

“Don’t treat me like a child.”

“Don’t act like one.”

That struck a nerve. Luka was fighting a smile. He couldn’t help but find the other adorable. This was probably one of the first time someone said no to him and he didn’t know how to cope.

“Come again?”

“I said.. don’t act like a child.”

“I just want to do my job. I need to be around you. That’s it.” Though that was turning into something of a lie. This little one before him was quite the entertaining one. He wouldn’t object to being around him. Especially if he could put him in his place.

“I.. I’m not acting like a child.” A pouting face looked good on him.

“You are.”

“Explain.” He was pretty sure the other was trying to channel is father. Like a toddler wanting to help around the house and pretending to vacuum.

“You are a spoiled child who knows nothing of the world. You think you’re the absolute best at anything and everything but deep down you’re insecure. You barely have any real friends as most of them are afraid of your daddy and you know it but you deny it. You think you can handle big boy stuff but you go a tantrum when things don’t go your way. You’re not ready for anything yet.”

Oh.. that was way too far.. A wave of pity fell over him as he looked into the other’s eyes. “That was.. too far. I’m sorry.”

“No. You’re right.”

There was hope for the spoiled one after all.

After he got the drink he wanted, they returned to the room. It was a nice room. Bigger than his house back home. He walked around and pretended to look outside. But inside he thought about the other on the bed. Sure he was a brat but he couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. While he was raised by strict parents.. he never had the pressure of having to be the heir to the family empire.

And disappointment.. he knew what that was. Neither his mom or dad was found of the decisions he made. And then there was the one on the bed. The pink one.. Pinky.. He wanted to impress his father so much but his father won’t give him a smidge of a chance.

Sure, his job title was bodyguard, but Luka felt it was more of a baby sitter’s job.

Luka noticed the other shift his weight around and realised he had been quiet for a while.

“Where i am from.. we got an even prettier sky. I guess that’s a thing i miss.”

“You aren’t homesick..?”

“Not really. I mean sure. I miss them a little. But they were okay with life. I wasn’t. Being discriminated against all day every day gets tired fast, ya know?”

“And now you’re here..”

“Gotta be somewhere.”

“Yeah but a being a body guard..?”

“I was told it was a babysitting job. So imagine my surprise when I found out the baby’s age.”

He watched the other puff up and get all red from blushing. He couldn’t help it. He had fought it for so long, he had to let it out; a hearty laugh.

“Easy, wee one.. I’m joking.” He said with a wink.

“Gonna be a boring job though. Not much happens..”

“I disagree. I find you.. wildly interesting.” Not a lie. Not even a little. There was something about the other that drew Luka to him. Though he couldn’t quite place it.

The realisation came a few days later. With Mateo’s permission Luka took the Pink one out to the market. Nothing too big, just a fun outing. Luka figured if he was going to learn about this world, he should experience it.

He had looked scared and even shook a little when they went to the market at the other side of town. Weasels weren’t shunned there but the family had less power in these parts. Meaning that no one would treat his boss differently. Which is precisely what Luka wanted.

He watched him dart around the place like a child on a sugar high. As he paid for the fruit they were out to get he knew what he was feeling. The strong desire to protect him. To care for him. To love him.

#Anonymous #wheezy #smarty #mateo #oh he has a tag now #wfrr #who framed roger rabbit #toon patrol #yeah some text is like literally copy and pasted from yesterday's story #BUT I'M TRYING NEW THINGS

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