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deepdarkdelights · 4 years

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10 Days (Jungkook x Reader)(10 Seconds Pt 2)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 7.9k

Warnings: Yandere, Stalking, Obsession, Non-Consensual touching (This becomes intense, if this is triggering for you please do not read), Kidnapping, Hard Manipulation, Mentions of past abuse/torture, Brainwashing, Blood

I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals.

Preview: There he was, the monster that you knew had been hiding behind that sweet face. Jungkook had several personas, the domineering kidnapper, the dotting boyfriend, and the whiny child. This was the one you had been waiting to see, the one that had violently slammed your head into the hood of your car that night. The one that had drugged you and zip tied you in the back of his car. He was always there, just sitting beneath the surface waiting to come and get you.

Read Part One Here Read Part Three Here

You had never felt more hopeless in your entire life. It felt like your energy had been completely drained from your body. His parents still stood by the door, talking amicably with their son. His mother practically had stars in her eyes as she was nestled close into her husband’s hold. Nothing scared you more than the thought of being in her place one day. Chills of disgust rolled down your spine as you imagined yourself and Jungkook together like that. His arm curled around your shoulder as you came home to your son, hanging for dear life onto a terrified girl, her eyes wide and brimming with tears begging for help. Is that what your life would be like? Would you too fall victim to your captor like she had? Would the cycle continue and for how long had it been happening in Jungkook’s family?

Your heart thudded in your chest as your eyes zeroed in on the door behind his parents. Could you make a run for it? Could you get away from him if you tried now? Or would that be your death sentence? You were undoubtedly outnumbered, but his parents were on the older side and it would be much harder for them to run after you. It was just Jungkook you had to worry about, his mother seemed harmless and his father was too caught up in his wife. Maybe you could do it, when would you ever find a chance like this again? They hadn’t even locked the door!

Your grip on Jungkook’s shirt began to loosen as your gaze was pinned to the door that was lightly swinging open with the breeze. You could do it.

“(Y/N).” Never mind, you couldn’t do it.

“Baby, I need you to listen to me. I know you’re anxious right now but I need you to be a good girl, okay?” Jungkook asked, turning around to cradle your face.

You nodded your head in compliance as his hand slipped away from your face to cradle your own. He tangled your fingers together and slowly led you over to his parents. His mother had a huge grin on her face and she seemed genuinely excited, vibrating with joy as you approached. Jungkook nudged you in front of him and rested his hands on your shoulders, his grip tense like he was warning you to behave. His father fixed you with a stern look, your body shuddering at the familiarity. He was so much like his son that it was scary. It really did seem like there wasn’t a way out of this and your heart shattered at the thought. You were going to be stuck with a family of people who were deluded, they actually believed that this was okay.

“Hello dear, it’s so nice to meet you.” She said with her best attempt at a comforting smile. It was strange to think she had once been in your place when she seemed so satisfied with her life. Fuck, she had even given birth to her kidnappers son. Would that be expected of you? Were you supposed to help continue this sick cycle? At the rate that things were going, you weren’t sure how long you could hold Jungkook off. He was clingy and becoming more handsy the longer you two spent together. Carrying his child may become a reality faster than you had anticipated.

You felt Jungkook’s fingers tense as he dug into your shoulders a little harder, you still hadn’t answered his mother.

“It’s-It’s nice to meet you.” You choked out with a smile that looked more like a grimace. You were not convincing whatsoever and that was reflected in the harsh stare of her husband.

Your heart continued to pound violently in your chest, what were you supposed to do? It felt like the walls in the room were slowly closing in on you. Once again, you were reminded that there was no escape. You were like a songbird trapped in a gilded cage and you desperately wanted to stretch your wings and break free from your prison. You could feel the panic attack coming, this hadn’t been the first one since Jungkook had taken you and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Your chest was tightening and it was becoming difficult to breathe as your heart hammered harder than before. There were a million thoughts racing in your head all at once as crisp tears began to roll down your cheeks. You clasped your hands together in an attempt to stop their trembling as your gaze zeroed in on the creaking hinges of the screen door. You were losing it. It became harder to keep a grip on reality as you felt the wave of anxiety come crashing down over you.

“Are you alright, sweetie?” Mrs. Jeon asked, her voice brimming with worry as she approached you. She gently grabbed your hands and pulled you away from her son who whined in irritation. Her dainty hands carefully smoothed your hair back as she tried to meet your gaze.

Of course you weren’t fucking alright. Any sane person would be able to see that from a mile away. You had been locked up for only God knows how long with one person who could change moods so fast it would give you whiplash. Her caring question only made everything worse, you were expected to say that everything was okay, that you were happy with her son and delighted to meet his parents. You were supposed to be the dotting girlfriend when you were so obviously the distraught victim.

How could someone with such a gentle, caring, motherly touch horrify you so much?

With a choked sob you pushed her off of you and made a sprint for the door. Within seconds you were flying through the door frame, your bare feet slapping against the wood of the porch and flying through the stretch of grass that spread over the empty field surrounding the house. It was windy and the sky was clear, the pale moonlight shining down on you as you desperately ran. You could hear Jungkook behind you screaming your name. His voice was a blend between being distraught and riddled with anger.

If he caught you, would he kill you?

His footsteps were loud and fast, he was sprinting as hard as he could to catch up with you but you were far too desperate to let him catch you so easily and so quickly. Before you knew it, you were in the forest. The trees were tall and thick, covered in moss. You weren’t thinking at this point, in fact you were just blindly running hoping to God that just maybe you would be able to out maneuver him.

You had never really tried to escape Jungkook, well you had never been able to actually try. Hell, this was the first time you were even near the front door. You couldn’t let him catch you as you would never find another chance to run away from him again. Not to mention, moments before his parents had entered the lake house, he had warned you that he was not above punishing you. You didn’t want to even think about what his punishments would entail for you.

Your legs were burning under the strain of running. After being bed bound for most of your time with your captor, you had barely done anything that was remotely as active as this. You were sure your feet were bleeding, they felt numb and slippery. The adrenaline pumping through your veins masked your pain as you pushed yourself harder. It was dark and hard to see, numerous branches had already snagged your clothing and whacked you. You really were at a disadvantage, weren’t you?

At this point, you had no doubt Jungkook would catch you. He was stronger and faster than you, you were completely outmatched in terms of endurance. You pumped your legs faster and harder, running down a slope of rocks and leaves that almost sent you tumbling. With a wheeze, you whipped around another tree and crouched down behind it and the large rocks that surrounded it. If you couldn’t outrun him, maybe you could hide from him.

You heard him come to a halt moments later as he heard your steps cease. You quickly slapped a hand over your mouth in an attempt to stifle your deep panting breaths. You could make out his head and shoulders from where you hid, he was spinning on his heels as he scanned the area around him. It was dark as the trees covered the light of the moon. Hopefully, this would make it harder for him to find you.

“(Y/N)?!” He called, his chest rising and falling rapidly with quick breaths. “Baby, I’m not playing around. You better come out right now if you know what’s good for you.”

He was fuming, it was so obvious. You could vaguely make out his tense jaw and the bulging veins in his neck. His head continued to swivel from side to side as he tried to find you in the dark.

“If you come out right now, your punishment won’t be that bad.” He spoke again, pacing back and forth as he continued to search for you. “You really disappointed me, I thought you were my good girl again. I’ve been so good to you but you keep testing me.”

You squeezed your eyes shut as panicked tears sprung forth. For someone who claimed to be in love with you, he was so good at making you cry. Your nails dug into the bark of the tree as you pressed your forehead to its trunk. He was going to find you, you never stood a chance.

“First, you take my affection for granted. Then, you question my love for you and accuse me of mistreating you. And then you throw my mother away from you like trash. We were doing so well but you just had to stop behaving.” He said with a distressed sigh as his footsteps grew nearer. Your body stilled like a deer in headlights, this was so familiar. And all at once, you were taken back to that night.

His light footsteps, the darkness, and the fear.

“All I want is to love you and take care of you, but you don’t see it that way do you?” He questioned, his voice became louder and closer. “I told you before, baby. You and I were meant to be together, from the moment I saw you I knew you were mine.”

His words were beginning to sound fuzzy as your ears rang. You had worked yourself up so much it seemed like even your own body couldn’t take it anymore. You felt sick and lethargic, and you knew it would only be a matter of seconds before he found you. Because no matter what, he would always find you.

A pair of hands latched onto your shoulders and yanked you out of your hiding spot. Game over. Jungkook turned you around violently and pinned you to the tree trunk. His eyes were so dark you couldn’t discern his iris from his pupil. He was good at making you cry, and you were good at pissing him off.

“What the fuck were you thinking?!” He yelled, shaking you by the shoulders. “I let go of you for ten seconds and you run away?!”

Your eyes snapped shut as he screamed as you, his grip tight and bruising.

“Open your eyes, right now.” He growled, his voice low and stern. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.” He continued.

Out of fear, you opened them and met his dark gaze with your own. His jaw was clenched tight as he looked at you, he was doing his very best to show you how displeased he was. It was still jarring how easy it was for him to slip between the roles of a love sick puppy and an enraged kidnapper.

“We are going home,” He said, his voice steady and deep. “You are going to apologize to my mother and father for your behavior and wait in your room for me. You are not eating tonight, not after the way you acted. Am I clear?”

You nodded so fast it looked like your head would snap right off of your neck.

“I said, am I clear?” He repeated, staring down at you.

“Yes.” You replied, your voice soft with fear but loud enough for him not to ask you to repeat yourself.

He released a soft sigh as a barely there smile graced his lips. He loved your compliance.

“You know I don’t like scaring you, baby.” He cooed, the anger slowly dissipating as he pulled you into his embrace. “But I have to when you act like this, and you know I’m going to have to punish you.”

And with that, the dam broke. Ugly sobs broke free from your chest as the tears came flooding back. You were such a mess, such a crybaby that couldn’t do anything right. You could only hope that your tears would save you from whatever pain he had in store for you.

“Jungkook, please!” You sobbed. “I was - I was scared!”

“I know baby, I know.” He hummed, smoothing your hair as he cradled you to his chest. He lowered his palms to your thighs and scooped you up, carrying you much like a parent would an infant.

“You had a stressful day, didn’t you? But still, I’m really mad at you babygirl and crying won’t solve anything.” He said, he sounded like a parent scolding their child. And much like a child, you clung to him as you wailed. In response he softly hushed you, rubbing your back as he began the walk back to the lake house.

“I’m sorry!” You croaked, burying your face in the juncture of his shoulder and neck as your tears stained his hoodie. And you were sorry, because now there was the high probability he would hurt you for your actions. Maybe if you had waited then you could have found a better way to escape him without getting hurt. But you were panicked, your body thinking for you instead of your brain.

“Such a good little girl,” He sighed, rubbing circles into your back. “Apologizing without me having to tell you. If you keep being my good girl, then we won’t have to fight anymore.”

You nodded your head rapidly, spurring light laughs from his throat. If behaving bought you time and saved your life, then you would do it. Just until you could find a way out of this, if there was a way out of this.

“Are you - are you gonna hurt me?” You sniffled, your eyes clenched shut as you hid yourself from his gaze.

“Baby, I promised you I would never hurt you again. That night…that was a one time thing. You know that, right? You know I would never hurt you?” He asked, his voice worried at the prospect that you thought he would hurt you again.

Your silence was enough of an answer.

“Oh no, my poor baby.” He gasped, squeezing you tighter to him. “So that’s why you’ve been acting this way, huh? I was too rough with you, you must still be so confused. I haven’t been very attentive, have I? Don’t worry, sweet girl. We’ll sort this out tonight.”

For the rest of the journey back there was a heavy silence between the two of you. It was accompanied by Jungkook’s soft touches and light kisses in the dark. Your little stunt seemed to only make him more affectionate than he was before, had he deluded himself into thinking this was all his fault? That he hadn’t given you enough attention and that was why you ran from him? Of course, in his mind you would never leave because you didn’t want him. Only because you didn’t have enough of him. The more time you spent with Jungkook, the more you realized how unstable he was. You were never sure what he was thinking, and that was scary. Never knowing what someone was going to do, that uncertainty was fear inducing.

It wasn’t long before the two of you had returned to the porch of the house, the door was still open but the screen door was shut allowing you to see into the hallway that led to the kitchen. You could make out the back of Jungkook’s father and the sweet voice of his mother, singing while the clanking of pots and pans followed. If this were under different circumstances, you would find it sweet.

Jungkook still held you, his chest pressed tightly to your own. His large hands cradled the back of your thighs, you could feel his thumbs lightly swiping the expanse of flesh. He dropped his head into the crook of your neck and took a deep breath before planting a soft kiss to the smooth column of your throat. It took everything in you to hold back the shudder that wanted to shake your body.

“You remember what I asked you to do for me babygirl?” He murmured, pulling back to look you in your eyes. The anger that had previously clouded them was no longer there, his soft gaze had returned once more. You gave him a quick nod and he smiled, carrying you back into your prison. His steps echoed down the hallway causing the singing to cease and his father to turn in his chair. Once more, he fixed you with that stern look that scared you shitless. Although this time it was far more intense and utterly annoyed.

“Go ahead.” Jungkook whispered, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear. Already, this was completely humiliating. Not only did you have to apologize for trying to escape your kidnapper, but you had to do it while he cradled you like a child.

With your eyes trained to the floor, you began. “I’m sorry for all the trouble I caused. It won’t happen again.”

Mrs. Jeon smiled again, her hands clasped together as she cooed at the sight of her son holding his “girlfriend” as she liked to say. “It’s alright sweetie, trust me, I’ve been there.” she giggled.

Her words were meant to comfort you, instead they deeply disturbed you. The way she so casually referred to her kidnapping was disgusting. She talked about it like it was something normal that everyone went through, like it wasn’t a horrific crime. She was brainwashed, so many years of being with her captor had turned her into a compliant doll. She was everything you feared and everything you desperately hoped to avoid. But once she was like you. How many times had she tried to run before she realized it was impossible to get away from him. How many nights had she spent crying over the life she had lost, missing her parents, her friends, and her family? When did she realize that her life was over? There was no saving her, and soon there would be no saving you.

“(Y/N),” Mr. Jeon spoke, his voice threatening. “Don’t do it again.”

You could tell that his words had a double meaning: Don’t run away again and don’t touch my wife like that again. You gave him a swift nod as your grip on Jungkook tightened. At that moment, he was the most familiar thing to you. And you could tell he was enjoying it.

“Son, we need to have a talk.” He continued, fixing his stern gaze onto Jungkook who stiffened in response.

With that, Jungkook swiftly turned and began to carry you away from the kitchen. He moved quickly as he squeezed you to him tighter than before. He seemed nervous, like he knew what his father wanted to talk about. You had never seen Jungkook look nervous. Angry, distressed, remorseful, but never nervous. He threw the door to your bedroom open and gently set you down on your frilly comforter. His hands came up to cradle your face once more before he leaned down and softly pecked your lips, a soft sigh breaking free from his chest.

“I need you to stay right here, okay? I’ll be back soon, we have some things to discuss.” He reminded you, pressing another soft kiss to your lips before standing and exiting your room, the door shutting behind him and the lock twisting shut.

Your heart hammered in your chest, what did his father want to talk to him about? What would Jungkook discuss with you? How bad was your “punishment” going to be? There were so many unknowns spinning around in your head. You really were a mess, weren’t you? You had always thought that you could take care of yourself, and your kidnapping had proven that to be false. You had devolved into this different person you didn’t know. Before, you never cried as much as you did now. Before, you didn’t cower in anyone’s presence. In such a small amount of time, you had already become a shadow of your former self. At the rate you were going, it wouldn’t be long until you were empty and broken.

You were jolted from your thoughts when the screaming started. It was Jungkook’s voice, deeper and louder than you had ever heard it before. You couldn’t make out exactly what he was saying, but whatever his father wanted to tell him had set him off. You shuffled back into the bad, wrapping the comforter around you to provide you some feeling of safety. An angry Jungkook is an unpredictable Jungkook. The low, sweet voice of his mother was trying to cool him down but that was far from working. You could hear him snap at her, Mr. Jeon’s voice rising over all of them in a clear and loud yell. Silence followed. Whatever they were talking about, it wasn’t good.

A loud crash shattered the silence that had heavily hung in the still air. Your body jumped in response and tensed in preparation for more noise to follow, but there was none. A beat of silence passed before you heard the tell tale steps of Jungkook’s boots stomping down the hallway. In seconds the door to your bedroom was flung open and slammed shut behind him so hard the frame shook.

Jungkook’s body was shaking in rage as he paced the open space at the foot of the bed. He was so caught up in his anger it seemed like he didn’t even notice you were there anymore. That was of course, until he did. His head snapped up and his stare met yours, without a word he cleared the footboard of the bed and pinned you to the mattress. On impact, your eyes snapped shut. His hands gripped your thighs and yanked you closer to him, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist as he buried his face in your shoulder. He was softly mumbling to himself as he nuzzled the fabric of your sweatshirt, the lightest of tears staining your top. He was crying?

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He choked out, his body shaking as he held you close to him. “Just because Dad did it that way doesn’t mean I have to.”

You were frozen beneath him, unsure of what to do. Jungkook was clinging to you like a toddler to their parent, babbling nonsense as he tried his hardest to stop crying. Each time you thought you knew him, he proved you wrong. Jungkook chose several personas in your presence, the domineering kidnapper, the dotting boyfriend, and the whiny child. You were scared of him because you could never tell which version of him you were going to get.

“He said I might be wrong, that maybe you aren’t mine. But he’s wrong, I know it! We’re meant for each other, I love you and no one can take you away from me. Not even him. He told me I need to be harsher with you, I need to hurt you so you understand.”

So that was how he did it. Jungkook’s father trained his mother with pain. He hurt her and would only stop in exchange for her obedience. No wonder she seemed so compliant, so in love with him. He had trained her like a dog, she associated him with pain and love simultaneously.

Jungkook pulled back from you, resting his weight on his forearms to take in your face. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were red from crying. He really did look pitiful, if anything he looked like you since you spent most of your captivity in anxiety and bouts of intense crying. He slowly raised his hand to your face and lightly stroked the flesh of your cheek. If you didn’t know any better, he would look like a man that was in love with you. But you did know better, he was just a boy in a man’s body who had been raised to think this was normal. And for a moment, you genuinely felt bad for him. For a moment, you thought you understood him.

“I won’t have to hurt you if you listen to me. I still have to punish you, but if you’re good then I don’t have to hurt you.” He whispered, sniffing sharply as he leaned back to wipe the tears from his face.

Your legs were still tensed around his waist as he dragged you up to his chest, pressing the two of you so close together that you could feel his heart beating. He scooted backwards off the bed and carried you back to the bathroom. This was beginning to feel like your first day with him all over again. He set you gently onto the counter and pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead before kneeling down on the cold tile. His fingers delicately lifted your right foot to allow him to inspect the damage you had inflicted. His face contorted with wince as he looked at your foot, silently lifting the other one to inspect it as well.

“I hate seeing you like this, in pain.” He sighed, his fingers gently stroking the delicate bones of your ankle as he looked up at you from in between your legs. Your face flushed at the sight causing you to tilt your head back against the mirror behind you. Anything was better than the position you were in right now. Jungkook cooed at the light blush that dusted your cheeks as he began to work on the wounds that littered the once smooth skin of your feet, always stopping when you would flinch or cry out from the pain. Sometimes, he could be considerate. But you didn’t want to think positively of him and you most definitely didn’t want to feel sorry for him. You didn’t want to feel anything for him. You found yourself having to remember that he was a monster, even if it wasn’t his fault he was still a monster.

A soft kiss pressed to the inside of your ankle forced you to look at him once more, a sweet smile graced his lips. The one that made him look like an innocent bunny.

“All done.” He smiled, rising up in between your legs to trap you to the counter. Jungkook always found a way to remind you of your inability to escape him, the amount of times he had pinned you today was outstanding and concerning. You really were fucked.

The sweet smile slowly slipped from his lips as his eyes flicked down to your lips. His eyes were dark again, half lidded in a daze as he looked at you. You weren’t stupid, you knew what he wanted. He swallowed harshly and leaned closer to you, cupping one side of your face as he softly stroked your bottom lip with his thumb. You could feel his hands trembling as he took in a shaky breath. He acted like you were a drug that he could never get enough of, each hit he got sending him into a deeper addiction that he craved. And God, did he want you. He wanted all of you, everything you had to offer, and more. He took another breath and leaned in, attempting to kiss you. You quickly turned your head away from him, his soft lips connecting with the smooth skin of your cheek. Instead of getting mad, he pressed another kiss to your cheek, the corner of your mouth, and gently peppered butterfly kisses to the curve of your jaw. In a panic, you jerked away from his touch only to press yourself tightly to the mirror behind you.

“I think,” He began, stopping to clear his throat. “I think I know what your punishment is going to be.”

Your heart jerked in response as his hands gripped the tops of your thighs. You had hoped maybe it wouldn’t come to this, that he had been bluffing this whole time. But if his father was so keen on punishment in his household, it only made sense he would want his son to follow in his footsteps. He had done it first, and he knew what “worked.”

“You can’t say no to me, baby. For ten days, you have to do what I want. Just for ten days.” He said, his tone gentle but you knew this wasn’t a request; it was a demand. You quickly shook your head from side to side, grasping his wrists and attempting to pull them off of you so that you could curl into yourself.

“Baby, baby! Listen to me!” He cried, catching your hands with his own while trying to meet your eyes. “You either do this for me, or I’ll have to hurt you. You know I don’t want to do that, but if I have to do it then I will. If my dad sees that you're non compliant, that you’re not being my good girl, he will try and get rid of you.”

You stilled at his words. So that’s why he had been crying so hard earlier. His father had given him an ultimatum. Jungkook had to hurt you if you misbehaved to “train” you, as his father had put it. If he didn’t see your compliance, then he would get rid of you. He would kill you for trying to free yourself.

“Jungkook…I can’t. I can’t do that. I just want to go home.” You replied, your voice weakening into a whimper as the tears rushed forth once more.

“I know this is hard for you baby, I know you need more time but I can’t keep waiting. Not with them here. Soon enough you’ll realize you are home, all you’ll need is me.” He whispered to you. And just like that all of your sympathy for him flew right out the window. At the end of the day, Jeon Jungkook was selfish. He took his father’s warning as a way to get what he wanted: you no longer being able to deny him. Jungkook is a monster, the perfect example of a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Those big, brown, doe eyes of his were concealing a dark force that was restless inside of him. That sweet smile of his hid the fangs and wrath harbored in him. He was something from your nightmares, hidden by a boyish face and a deceiving innocence. You never hated anyone as much as you hated Jeon Jungkook.

“Tonight counts as day one, you only have nine more days to go sweetheart.” He smiled, rubbing the tops of your thighs is what would have been a comforting manner if you didn’t detest his touch so much.

“Come on, you’re sleeping in my bed tonight.” He informed you, scooping your body up once more as to not have you walk on your injured feet. Not only did you have no choice but to listen to him, but now you had lost your mobility for the time being. Your teeth sunk into your lower lip, stopping yourself from snapping at him. Time had proven before that you could break, and if you broke this time it could have deadly consequences.

Would it be better to let yourself die? Would you rather live a life of captivity over the freedom that the dark embrace of death had to offer? No. You were many things, but unafraid of death was not one of them. If you were, then you would have forced Jungkook’s hand or his father’s a long time ago.

Jungkook set you down on the covers of his bed, rifling through his drawers to find something for you to wear to bed. He came back to you with a large white T-shirt in hand, something you had seen him wear many times. There was no doubt in your body that he was thrilled with this situation. Not only did he have you in his bed, but he would have you in his clothes. Jungkook sat down beside you once more, silently helping you out of your clothes. You still flinched from his touch, but tried your best not to say anything. The less you struggled, the faster you would be clothed and less vulnerable. To Jungkook’s credit, he tried his best not to openly ogle your semi naked form. His gaze still lingered, his eyes still looked you over, but he clothed you and that was that.

Once he had finished, he leaned back into the bed and kicked his boots off. He turned to look at you for another moment, taking in your body covered by his sheets. He swallowed harshly before turning away from you and opening the drawer of his nightstand. Once he faced you again you noticed the glinting metal in his hand. Handcuffs. Part of you shuddered at the thought that he kept those by his bed, the other part of you tried your best not to freak the fuck out.

“I can’t trust that you won’t try and leave while I’m sleeping.” He explained. “I don’t want to have to do this, but I need to.”

“I won’t leave.” Lie. “It’s going to be hard for me to sleep handcuffed to the bed, I learned my lesson. I won’t run.” You had tried your best to seem like you weren’t denying him, the word “no” had never passed your lips.

“It’s okay, I won’t cuff you to the headboard.” He answered, slapping the cuff to your right wrist and the other cuff to his as well. What the fuck. He leaned away from you to turn the lamp off, plunging the room into darkness. For a moment, you couldn’t see. But you could feel him. Jungkook peeled the sheets back and slid underneath them behind you, slinging his cuffed arm over your waist and pulling you back against his chest.

Motherfucker.

“Jungkook-”

“Go to sleep, baby.” He cut you off, tensing his arm in warning as he rested his chin on the top of your head. You barely slept that night.

You woke up by being blasted from the light filtering through the window. He had left the curtains open last night. And not to mention, you were extremely uncomfortable. You were hot as hell having Jungkook wrapped around you like a giant koala, your wrist was chaffed from the metal cuffs, you had a headache from the bright light, and something was pressing hard into your lower back. You huffed in annoyance, trying to shift away from the man behind you only to still when a groan shook his chest.

Oh. Something hard was pressed to your lower back.

You shivered in disgust, rolling awkwardly to unwind his arm from around you so that you could get away from his…situation.

A sharp knock on the door made you jump while simultaneously waking up your captor. “Jungkook? (Y/N)? I made breakfast! Come out before it’s cold!”

Jungkook groaned again, slinging his arm over his eyes at the sound of his mother’s voice. He took a deep breath before sitting up and retrieving the key to the cuffs, swiftly unlocking it and separating the two of you. You hastily stood up, putting as much distance between the two of you as you could. Jungkook still remained in his bed, eyeing you as he titled his head back. You felt shivers run down your spine from the look he was giving you. You had no doubt you knew exactly what he was thinking about.

“Jungkook!” Mrs. Jeon yelled again from the other side of the door, her swift knocks returning once more. Her impatience knew no bounds as she finally gave up and swung the door open. It was quite a sight to see, such a small woman looking so angry. Jungkook actually looked scared for a moment.

“Jungkook, I said breakfast is ready and getting cold! Don’t ignore your mother!” She scolded him, waving a spatula around as she yelled at him. This sight was just too normal, it was so strange to think that you were kidnapped. Never in a million years did you ever think you would see your captor’s mother yelling at him like he was still a child.

Jungkook sighed, trying his best not to lash out at his mother lest his father hear their exchange. “You waited all of ten seconds, mom.”

“That doesn’t matter! I shouldn’t have to wait!” She replied before taking a hold of your elbow and tugging you towards the hallway. “Now, are you coming or will you make your mother wait longer?”

“I’ll uh, I’ll be out in a few minutes.” He answered awkwardly.

“Fine, suit yourself.” She huffed before dragging you out of the bedroom and walking you in the direction of the kitchen. But not before you saw Jungkook mouth, “behave” with that stern look returning to his face. Right, it was day two.

“It’s time for some girl talk!” She beamed, ushering you into a seat where a plate of food awaited. “So, tell me. How did you and my son meet?”

She couldn’t be serious. This had to be some twisted joke, right? The look on her face spoke volumes, she was genuinely curious with a smile so similar to her sons spreading over her face. You wanted so badly to scream in her face that he fucking kidnapped you, that you barely knew him when the two of you were in the same classes. You took a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself. No matter how badly you wanted to scream and cry, you couldn’t. The threat of Jungkook’s father was still near, if you didn’t behave he had no qualms about “getting rid” of you.

“Uh, we met in high school.” You answered, poking at your food and refusing to make eye contact with her.

“High school sweethearts! How cute, that’s just like me and my husband!” She gushed. She was just as deluded as the rest of them.

Your silence caused her lips to turn downward, the smile slipping off of her face. A look of understanding crossed over her eyes as she gently reached across the table to cradle your hand in her own.

“I understand how hard it is at first.” She said, your head snapped up to look at her. This was the first time she didn’t seem bubbly and in love. “I ran too, you know. It’s overwhelming, becoming a part of their world and learning that way they love. My husband was strict with me, but he had to be for the sake of our relationship.”

And just like that, your hope died again. She thought she was in love with him, that he did all he did because they were meant to be together. She was like you once, and she had lost the fight. Your eyes dropped to her hands that held your own. To your horror, you noticed the deep scars littering her wrists and palms. On the inside of her wrist was the most prominent scar, a large J carved into her skin. If her hands were that scarred, what was she hiding underneath her shirt and pants? Was her whole body subjected to the torture that her husband called love? He had conditioned her with pain, he had made her into what he wanted her to be.

“Baby?” Jungkook called, walking into the kitchen with a worried look on his face as he took in your stiff posture and disturbed expression. He came to your side immediately and settled his arm on the back of your chair, his eyes scanning over you to make sure you were okay.

“Are you feeling sick, sweetheart?” He asked, pressing his lips to your forehead making his mother smile at the display of affection.

You shook your head and stopped yourself from flinching away. After all, you couldn’t say no to him.

The days began to pass quicker after the incident with Jungkook’s mother. You had learned his parents would be staying in the guest house to give the two of you space while also keeping an eye on you. You could feel yourself spiraling in the aftermath of everything that had happened. The only thing that was keeping you from lashing out again was the hard glare Jungkook’s father constantly had trained on you. Not to mention, your compliance was the only thing preventing Jungkook from hurting you the same way his father had his mother.

Each day proved to be more straining than the day before. Jungkook would push for more from you, he would start with small things and gradually work his way up to what he really wanted. And it was exhausting. You never stood a chance against him. He was a monster that had disguised himself so skillfully that even you didn’t see what he was doing when this started.

Day 3: You weren’t allowed to sleep in “your” room anymore. His excuse was that his dad wouldn’t approve of leaving you alone. But you knew that was a lie, he just wanted to have you to himself for as long as he could. He took your privacy from you, the one thing you had been allowed to have.

Day 4: You spent the day together watching movies. You weren’t allowed to leave his hold the entire time. You weren’t allowed to deny his touch no matter how much you wanted to jump out of his arms and make a run for it for the second time. He held you the entire day and it felt so suffocating.

Day 5: You weren’t allowed to see his mom anymore. You were only allowed to talk to him, you could only spend time with him. You felt like you were going crazy being with just him again. Sure, his mother was completely brainwashed but still she was someone that wasn’t him.

Day 6: You weren’t allowed to dress yourself anymore. You hadn’t objected, but you did try and tell him that you could do it yourself, that you were an adult. But of course, you weren’t allowed to deny him. If you did, then he could hurt you. If you did, his father could kill you. What other choice did you have? How could you fight back when there was nothing protecting you except your captor’s empty promises? You hated the feeling of his hands on your body, skimming over your exposed flesh as he would change your clothes.

Day 7: You couldn’t deny his affection no matter how much you wanted to. You had found yourself pressed into the couch cushions, one of his hands woven through your hair as the other stroked your waist, his lips locked tightly to your own.

“Kiss me back.” He had whined into your mouth, harsh pants of air bursting over your lips. And reluctantly you did, because what else were you going to do? You had no other choice, there was no escape. Not while both of his parents were here. You had foolishly hoped that you could last ten days with him. That your punishment would end and you could regain what little freedoms he had given you before.

Day 8: You couldn’t sleep, not while he was doing what he was behind you. You had kept your eyes clenched tightly shut but you could still hear what he was doing, you could feel his breaths hitting the back of your neck as soft moans burst from his throat. His one hand gripping your hip tightly as he worked himself up, moaning your name desperately as you pretended to sleep.

You were disgusted, but you knew it would be better to pretend you were unaware than to snap at him.

Day 9: That night, he told you he wanted to bathe you. He wanted to cross the one hard line you gave him, and you were breaking ever so slowly. You didn’t flinch when he stripped you of your clothes or when he cradled your bare body to his chest, settling you into the tub. His eyes were hooded in lust, his gaze and hands straying as he washed you. This was what he wanted, full dependence and utter compliance. All you could do was close your eyes and pretend he was someone else, that you were anywhere but there.

Day 10: He wanted you. That was his “final” punishment. He had you laid out in the center of his bed, his hands running over every part of you he could touch while his lips marred the column of your throat. He was breathing heavily, raising himself up to kiss you as he reached down to pull your shirt up, only disconnecting from you to rip the fabric from your torso. He let out a deep groan, even though it was nothing he hadn’t already seen the night before. He frantically gripped the waistband of your pants and yanked them off to reveal more of your skin.

“My pretty, good, little girl.” He cooed, stroking your hips before his fingers curled into the fabric of your underwear, attempting to pull them away.

A sudden clarity overcame you and you couldn’t hold yourself back any longer. Your hands snapped down to his wrists and held them tight, trying your hardest to fix him with a glare you didn’t know you were capable of.

“No.” You bit out, your nails sinking into the skin of his wrists.

“No?” He laughed, that dark look returning to his handsome face. “Don’t you remember, baby? You can’t say no.”

There he was, the monster that you knew had been hiding behind that sweet face. Jungkook had several personas, the domineering kidnapper, the dotting boyfriend, and the whiny child. This was the one you had been waiting to see, the one that had violently slammed your head into the hood of your car that night. The one that had drugged you and zip tied you in the back of his car. He was always there, just sitting beneath the surface waiting to come and get you.

But you were tired, so fucking tired of being scared all the time. You took a deep breath and squared your shoulders, fixing him with the darkest glare you could manage. This wouldn’t go his way, no matter how much he thought he was winning, no matter how he played you like a Puppeteer controlling his helpless marionette. And with conviction you bit out that one word you had agreed not to say.

“No.”

#bts #bts jungkook #bts x reader #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #yandere #yandere bts #yandere jungkook #bts fanfic #yandere jungkook x reader #yandere kpop #yandere bts x reader

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brockadoodles · 4 years

Text

mirrorball - b. boeser

AN: Since @slapshot-to-the-heart asked, you shall all receive. Here’s the repost of mirrorball. Which is just pure soft fluff from the folklore series. Hope you enjoy it!

Word Count: 1693 (honestly I didn’t know I could ever write anything so short)

Warnings: Babies.

I can change everything about me to fit in You are not like the regulars The masquerade revelers Drunk as they watch my shattered edges glisten

Brock was a lot of things to the people who thought that they knew him well. There was a degree of truth to the infamous nickname, Mr. Sensitive. Brock was the type of person to put everyone before himself, his family, friends, teammates, and you. So much so, that he often felt he had to be the beacon of strength for those around him, confronting every situation with a facade of bravery, not allowing his own feelings to preface those around him. He simply cared about people in the way that always admired you on the surface, not realizing how many facets of his own sensitivities that he never shared.

But what most of the people around him didn’t know was how complex Brock really was. It was subtleties that you picked up on, slight hints of mirrored edges of his personality. The things he desperately tried to conceal, even for you.

It was the way that he would take every loss gravely, spending late nights reviewing tape, wondering if he was good enough to be where he was.

It was the way he would smile and nod at interviewers, even when they weren’t being subtle about their criticisms of him.

It was in his voice, everytime he called home, concern evident in his eyes as he spoke with his father, not knowing what the future held.

It was just how scared he was about being a dad, hands shaking as you told him you thought you were pregnant. No one else saw the reflection of his watery eyes when the test was positive, thoughts swirling in his head of if he could be a parent, doubting himself immediately. They didn’t see the panic in his eyes when the doctor told you it would be a boy, his hand squeezing yours gently, wondering how he would live up to the pressures of raising a little boy.

“Brock, you can do this.” You breathed out, words hanging in the air between you as he grabbed the hospital bag, recounting each item on the list you’d need.

“I should be telling you that.” He whispered, eyes casting downward to his hands, attempting to hide his own anxieties. He was prepared for this, he spent weeks reading the books, memorizing the words as she turned each page. He went to every appointment, carefully pulling out his list of questions for that day, wondering how the baby was developing each time. He spent time with his nephew, asking every question he could think of about having a newborn. But most importantly, he was there, alongside you, doing everything he could to support you the last nine months.

You walked over, pushing past the pain of your last contraction, knowing that you needed to take this moment to take in Brock. You reached up, running your hand along his cheek, pulling his forehead to yours.

“You’re going to be amazing, he doesn’t know how lucky he is. No one is the perfect parent, we’re going to make mistakes, but he is going to be surrounded by so much love. You don’t have anything to worry about.” You smiled softly, looking intently in his eyes, making sure he heard what you were saying. You loved Brock in every way that a person could love someone else, you never doubted him about anything. If you had to tell him everyday until he believed it, you would, because you knew he was going to be the best father this baby could have.

Brock kissed you softly, pulling you close as he ran a hand over your stomach. Taking in the last few moments of what his life was like before your son was born. Your words echoing in his mind. He knew you were right, you were as prepared for this as any new parent could be expected to be. The nursery was finished, light grey paint adorning the walls, forest green accents complimenting the dark chestnut crib. The walls were adorned with photos of the lake back in Minnesota, stuffed bears sitting in a basket by the crib, dresser drawers fully stocked with every item a newborn could possibly need.

He thought about it for a moment, smiling softly as he realized the next time he would be in the nursery, his son would be there. Despite his insecurities and fears, Brock loved him more than he ever thought he would love someone, which was saying a lot considering just how much he loved you. He often wondered how he got so lucky finding you, falling in love while you were a grad student in Vancouver, taking you home to Minnesota to get married in a small lakeside wedding, and now you were giving him a child that would hopefully have all of the best features of you.

You winced in pain, hand pulling back to grip your stomach, another contraction evident on your features, the sound instantly returning his attention back to you. The emotions hit him all at once, this was happening, you were in labor, soon he would be holding a little boy.

Brock quickly picked up the duffle bag, throwing the strap carelessly over his shoulder as he focussed on helping you out the door. He carefully wrapped his arm around you, trying to alleviate any pain of yours that he could as he walked you to the car.

“Brock!” You called out, looking at him quickly with wide eyes. He froze, unsure of the concern present on your features.

“What? Did you forget something? What’s wrong?” He panicked, words tumbling out of his mouth as he quickly ran through the lists in his head, mentally checking off each item.

“You might want shoes?” You laughed, looking down to his feet. He quickly grabbed his sneakers from by the door, shoving them on before picking up the duffel again, cheeks flushed as he helped you into the car.

Brock carefully got you into the front seat, leaning over to pull the seat belt over you. He meticulously checked the infant car seat in the back, making sure it was level and perfect. You were growing impatient, ready to get to the hospital, but you let Brock take his time, understanding that he was nervous and had to handle this in the only way he knew how, by making sure that everything was perfect for the baby.

He sighed softly as he sat in the front seat, turning on the car. He took one last glance in the rearview mirror, checking that the car seat was still there before he turned on the engine.

“Ready to have a baby?” Butterflies were floating in your stomach, nerves present in your shaky voice. You felt scared yet calm at the same time, knowing that you could do this, Brock would be there every step of the way.

“Yeah, I am.” He whispered, reaching over the console to wrap your hand in his, fingers remaining laced together the entire drive.

----------------

Brock watched carefully as the doctors placed the baby on your chest. He felt like he was out of his own body, fixated on nothing but you and the baby as the moment went on. You were crying, stray hairs falling in your eyes, wet with sweat.

You had done amazing, spending 20 hours in labor, never complaining once. Brock watched in awe as the baby boy cried, adjusting to the world around him. He felt his own eyes water, leaning down to press a kiss to your head. A simple gesture, holding so much weight. He was comforting you, a reassuring presence held in his kiss.

The doctors and nurses were circling around the room, carefully cleaning everything up, helping guide you and Brock through everything. You felt like the room was spinning, no one around but you, Brock, and the small baby boy on your chest.

You glanced up at Brock, noticing the tears in his eyes as he looked at his son, noticing just how similar the two of them looked. Brock had a subtle smile on his face, eyes focussed on the baby. You saw something change in him, a new piece of glass added to his complex shape. Brock spent so much time changing himself, hiding how deeply he cared for other people, and watching him look at the baby, you saw all of that flutter away, revealing the Brock that you wished other people were lucky enough to know.

“Alright dad, you ready to hold your son?” The nurse asked. She motioned for him to sit down in the chair beside your hospital bed. You watched as the insecurities slowly regained their presence on his face, his lower lip slightly tucked between his teeth, eyes wide. You carefully balanced your son in your arm, reaching your other hand out toward Brock, offering him a subtle gesture, knowing he felt comfort under your touch.

Brock was so sure he was going to fail, that everything he built up in his head about being a dad was going to crumble underneath him as soon as he held the baby. His hands shaking softly as he lifted his shirt, remembering that skin to skin is important for bonding with a newborn.

Every doubt Brock ever had evaporated as soon as he held his son to his chest, cradling his tiny body in his arms, instantly feeling the need to protect him from the world. He looked over every feature, noting the curve of his nose and lips, features he thought looked like you. He was fragile, his tiny hands curled into his chest, body needing the security of you and Brock to guide him. Brock felt him settle into his chest, and he closed his eyes, focussing on the baby’s breathing.

Brock was a lot of things, but watching him sit with eyes closed, softly holding your baby, you felt like you finally saw every piece of him. Every shiny piece of broken mirror coming together in the moment, shining clearly.

#folklore series #brock boeser #brock boeser imagine #brock boeser fic #brock boeser story #nhl imagine #nhl fic #canucks imagine

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kashimos-hajime · 5 years

Text

scorched | s.r. + b.b.

summary: “You utterly destroyed me, you know that? I loved you more than I needed to breathe and you just walked away. I lost everything and you walked away.”

WARNINGS: swearing, angst, violence, a post-endgame rant wrapped up as a fic pairing: steve x fem!reader, bucky x fem!reader word count: 7.3k

a/n: inspired by praying by kesha. written for @coffee-with-bucky and her 2k challenge! congrats lyn :) my prompt was “i failed you. i failed everyone.”and i’d be lying if i said i wasn’t inspired by @heli0s-writes and her series “as it was”. check her out! she’s one of my favourite writers on this site!

“She’s not at the compound,” Sam says, not at all surprised to see him and almost resentful, defensive. His phone is still in hand, screen alit from the text Steve sent him a few minutes ago. Everything he left behind is still here by the lake.

Almost everything.

It’s a ghost town.

“But she doesn’t want to see you anyway.”

“Sam—”

“Five hours for you was five, very long years for us,” he continues, but his tone softens when he catches sight of Steve’s face. Absolutely crushed, eyebrows weighed down, shoulders hunched forward, defeated. “She’s different, now. She’s not the woman you left.”

The mere mention of you makes Steve’s heart, already choked with dread, crack.

“And you shouldn’t go, man. It wouldn’t be good for her after all this time.”

Before, maybe Sam would’ve thought of Steve first, but there’s a distance, a yawning gap standing between them now. Sam was here for the bitter consequences of his departure—Steve wasn’t, and he knows they must’ve been shattering, terrifying, because by the way Sam is so cold about it, he doesn’t want to remember it.

“I made a mistake, Sam. I can’t let her go on thinking I don’t regret what I did.” He looks out at the lake where he passed the shield and mantle and responsibilities on to the man before him before he left, and the sun hits the lake so clearly that his breath nearly catches. You loved swimming, propelling circles around him in the blue-green pool at the compound, splashing it into his eyes. Laughing and laughing and laughing because you’re so limber on land but here you’re definitely a fish out of water.

Funny, funny, funny.

“She won’t care.”

“She has to.”

“Look, man. I’m trying to save you some pain.” Sam puts a hand out, hovering before his chest as if he stopped himself, as if he doesn’t even want to touch Steve, and the blond swallows the painful little knot in his throat. “It’s too late, and I know you want to think better late than never, but she’s changed. Things have changed.”

“That won’t stop me from trying,” Steve murmurs, walking around Sam to where a car is parked. His car. The damned car he drove to Tony’s funeral. He’s sure the keys are still in the cupholder beside your old coffee cup. He wonders who drove you home.

Sam? Bucky?

Who held a body with a heart that was tearing apart while he was chasing some fruitless daydream?

“Dude, the woman you knew is gone,” Sam calls, but Steve doesn’t listen. “You need to leave.”

“No, Sam. We made a promise to wait for each other.”

Okay, clause one: we wait for each other no matter what. Clause two: no matter what happens, we promise to work everything out. Clause three: this love is forever. Sign here.

I can’t believe you’re making me sign a fake contract for something we know won’t change, doll.

It’s a real contract because I wrote it, and it’s just for fun, anyway. I would never love anyone else besides you.

“That doesn’t matter. She’s fucking Barnes anyway.”

That stops him in his tracks. Blood freezing over in his body, he turns to look at Sam in his leather jacket and washed jeans, arms crossed tightly over his chest. His eyes are impassive, severe, and dark with blunt honesty.

“Look, they’re happy. So can you just… leave? Go back to the forties. Settle down anywhere but here, because she is happy and so is he. Do you know how long it took for them to even think about trying to move past you?”

“Wait—” The word comes out ripped, hoarse, and he feels the blood drain from his legs as he takes a step back—

“You should just go.”

For a moment, Steve’s eyes, wide and impossibly guilty, shine with tears. At the thought of you with some other man—somehow the possibility never crossed his mind. In his mind, you are the girl who shelters underneath his arm when it thunders, who tucks her face into his chest when the movie is too scary, who peppers his faces with kisses and makes him lemonade after a good training session, who puts flower crowns on his head when they spend a weekend outside the city and makes apple pies so fulfilling he could cry, who would never love another man because you are so wholly, helplessly, in love with him.

And he left you anyway.

So he nods, because he deserves this.

He deserves this, and he leaves.

The wind is warm against his cheeks as he tries to think how he ended up here in Puerto Vallarta, although he does know. Sam dropped him off here with a mission that’ll hopefully lead to another, and you can build a new life for yourself, Steve. One without her in it. If you need something, you know you can call me.

An arms deal. He got a tipoff from one of his CIs that it’s happening tonight by the docks, because he needs his own resources now. There is no Ross, no Tony, no Natasha, no one on his side.

His body yearns for a fight, and he gets it when he hears a soft voice down the docks, speaking in British English, just barely over the lap of the ocean. Crouching behind a metal freight container, he tries to distinguish the voices. At least three bodies, all armed, and his target. One of the biggest arms dealers in Britain down here to make a deal.

Steve, darting out from his cover and to the fire escape by the warehouse, catches a glimpse of the silhouettes of the men waiting. Their shadows are long against the concrete of the dock. The metal clangs underneath his boots as he slowly climbs the steps.

“Where is this woman?” the first man asks roughly, impatience laced through his tone as Steve pulls himself onto the roof. Feet pattering over the metal roof of the warehouse, he keeps himself crouched as the warm, golden sunlight filters through the oily heat. He’s sweating through the kevlar suit he’s got strapped on, and droplets beads around his forehead as he adjusts the shield gauntlets along his wrists.

“She said seven, sir.”

“Tardiness,” the man tsks. “We should’ve known better than to deal with the likes of her. What did I say?”

“That you shouldn’t trust an American, sir.”

“Precisely.” Leaning over the roof, Steve spots the man in question speaking, his suit glowing from the lamplight he stands beneath and he grips the edge of the roof, frowning. The buyer and the seller in one foul swoop. A car door slams and he blinks, tearing his eyes away from his count of at least twelve men, three standing around crates and the other around the man complaining.

A woman steps out of the car, pocketing her phone as she walks towards the illuminated circle, and he frowns, narrowing his eyes. Her face is covered by hair that sways with her every step, but her figure is outlined by the fit of her pantsuit. Even through the clothes, he can see the curve of muscle, the purpose in her step.

A dangerous woman.

“Sorry for the hold up,” she calls out, her voice smooth, rich with confidence. Steve frowns as she stops just outside the circle of light, her silhouette illuminated by warm, rusty orange and cloaked in shadow. “You wouldn’t believe the legalities surrounding contraband in America,” she continues teasingly. “Let me see.”

The man jerks his head to one of his henchman by the crates who cracks it open revealing sleek black rifles, laser sights, silver canisters with a bar along the sides: EMPs, grenades of all kinds. “Is it to your satisfaction?”

“It is. I’m docked in bay four. My men will meet yours there,” she says and head honcho nods. It’s a sign for the three men to pick up one crate each and begin their slow trail up the docks. The crates are massive things, hard black metal that softly rattles with every sway and Steve’s ears prick as the woman steps closer, her heels sharp against concrete.

“I assume this concludes our business, ma’am. It has been a profitable few months. I hope you find your new treasures… helpful in your endeavors.”

“Oh, I’d love to keep communications open. You’ve been a wonderful seller, and as you know, I pay handsomely for quality goods.” Despite his previous irritation, the boss seems to straighten, smiling almost as the men around look at each other. Money. It all comes down to money.

“Of course. My London warehouse, as you know, is open to you should you find yourself across the sea.”

“Perfect. Pleasure doing business with you.” It is then that she steps into the light, and Steve’s eyes narrow at the glint of metal on her ears and in her hair as she reaches forward to shake the man’s hand.

And twist it behind his back, using him as a body shield between her and his henchmen. Her other hand goes to her head, pulling out the pin and digging it gently into the man’s throbbing vein at his neck. It sits comfortably in her palm, almost as if it is molded for her and Steve’s muscles tense, blood rushing to his fingertips.

“Shoot her, now.”

“Watch it, Fitz,” hisses the woman, voice low. She digs the tip of the pin deeper. In the washed lamplight, Steve can see the curve of the blade, the hoop her finger slots into. A throwing knife. “I want you out of this situation alive.”

The knife trails down his body to his thigh and she wraps her fingers tighter around the handle.

Schluck.

The man’s scream rings in Steve’s ears as she tosses the man aside, diving to a stack of wooden crates. Wood and stone splinters beneath the force of bullets following at her heels but she simply unclasps one of her earrings, presses a button and throws it over the crates.

There’s a moment of silence as the men stare at the device at their feet before there is an explosion of smoke. He watches as the woman vaults over the crates and sprints into the cloud and Steve leaps off the roof, pumping his arms to activate his shield gauntlets.

The first man he comes into contact with lets out a startled scream as Steve punches his lights out and his blood is singing. Smoke burns at his eyes and thickens in his lungs as he whirls around, spotting a shadow of a man and he runs toward him, sweeping out a leg to take him down before slamming his knuckles into his nose until he’s knocked out cold and there’s a painful grunt behind him, the resounding collapse of a body that has no intention of getting up again.

Bullets whiz past his face, slamming into concrete and flesh as something rushes past him and he grabs the charging man, swinging his whole body weight into his arms and bringing them both crashing into the ground. The smell of sweat leaks into his mouth as he shoves the curve of his shield into the henchman’s stomach. Once. Twice. Thrice.

The man is rolled over, eyes scrunched tight, when Steve gets off of him.

Eyes straining through the smoke, he watches as a shadow charges at two figures, latching onto the first man and striking the geezer behind him with a power kick to the chest with both legs. The second man stumbles back just as the shadow swings her legs back and brings the first man down to the ground.

Natasha.

That was something he’d seen Natasha practice a hundred times over.

The thought makes his blood run cold and he pauses for a moment, the smoke beginning to thin out as she rolls over the first man and takes down the second with two punches to the gut and a knee to the nose.

Natasha.

This can’t be real. No. Natasha is dead.

Unless they brought her back.

No, Sam would’ve told him, wouldn’t he?

He’s not sure anymore.

His throat cinches shut at the thought of the redhead, of the woman who’d been by his side for years, who encouraged him to fall in love with you. Maybe it’s Natasha’s ghost haunting him, taunting him with some lookalike spy, reminding him of his mistake, and he feels himself paralyzed. The memories, the smile of hers before they went back in time— He’d felt so exhausted at the responsibility of it all, the five years of his failure weighing down between his shoulders. It all rushes back to him: your wobbling lips, brave face on his brave girl, fingers digging into his suit, ordering him to come home safe, Natasha’s coy little smile.

See you in a minute.

Strong legs wrap around his abdomen and he lets out a grunt, yanked out of his dazed state as he wrenches the attacker off his back. The woman falls with smack but her fingers dig into his wrists. Her legs wrap around his arm, dragging him down with her.

Steve pitches forward, tumbling forward as she slams his hand into the concrete. His skull collides with the ground and he squeezes his eyes tight, pain blooming from the back of his head. A sharp knee digs into his other elbow and he sucks in a deep breath, eyes fluttering open to a blurry face.

“No.” The word comes out choked and he blinks against the streetlight, eyebrows furrowing together and the weight vanishes off of him. “It can’t be.” Sitting up, he feels his head swim in a dull ache, world tilting as the woman takes a step away from him. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

The words ring in his ears, cold, wretched, and he jerks his head up to see your face drained of blood, lips parted, eyes wide. Your shoulders are shaking, chest heaving for air and it rattles in your lungs. Steve can hear your heart pounding, your throat swallowing nothing but wet air.

“Y/N—” He soaks in your figure, the muscle, the confidence, the sharp lines where everything had been soft. You don’t even look too different—you just feel different. He used to sink into your arms thinking of golden sunlight and soft pillows. Now, when he looks at you, he thinks of serrated edges, ironwire bones. You’ve lost your heels in the fight, but you look taller than he’s ever seen you. “You’re… it’s you.”

“Steve.” For a moment, your voice is choked up and your expression softens as you scan his face, but then you tear your eyes away. Your hair is chopped shorter for practicality, just barely past your shoulders. It suits you. Suits the girl he loves, the girl he doesn’t know anymore. “Steve.”

“Are you hurt?” He reaches for you but you shrink back like he’s burned you. This isn’t who you are. You’ve never been a fighter, yet here you stand, pantsuit a bit scuffed but otherwise untouched, and his stomach twists into a Gordian knot. This is what Sam was warning him about. The snake in the garden come to life. “What are you doing here? You could’ve gotten hurt, doll—”

“Don’t call me that. You don’t have that right anymore,” you spit, voice pure poison. He pushes himself to his feet just as something makes you pause and your eyebrows knit together, raising your left wrist where a watch is strapped on. His head is spinning from his skull cracking against concrete and the new revelation that the girl he knows is a stranger again. He wobbles for a moment, arms out to the side as he tries to regain his bearings but you don’t so much as give him another second of your attention. “Docks are secure, Fury. Fitz is ready for pickup. I’ll send London co-ordinates when I get back to base.”

Steve glances at the bleeding man still panicking about the knife sticking out of his leg, and you go over to him, hauling him to his feet. The man shivers, whimpers when he puts weight on his injured leg but you give no hint that you care. As if on cue, a helicopter swerves through the air, rotors sending powerful gales of air down to the ground as it lowers itself to the ground and you look at Steve with a cold disinterest, hand a fist around Fitz’s collar.

“Believe it or not, I’m not just Captain America’s pretty little girlfriend anymore.”

“I just want to talk—”

“There’s nothing I want to say to you.” Turning around, you lug Fitz into the helicopter with a strength Steve doesn’t recognize and you climb onto the chopper with a grace he knows didn’t exist before he left you.

Don’t go. Please don’t go. I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you.

“I’m going back to the compound,” you say over the loud gusts of wind whipping at the ground. “You’ll find Bucky there, if that’s who you’re really here for because if I wasn’t enough for you then, then I certainly won’t be enough for you now.” Pulling back into the helicopter, you yank the door shut with a slam, and Steve watches as it rises, a steady ascension to a place where he can’t follow.

His stomach twists, his whole body wracked with a shaking agony as his heart pushes itself up your throat. Falling to his knees, he keens over and throws up, acid splashing between his hands. He vomits out his heart, every inch of warmth you’ve ever given him so freely, every smile he’s taken for granted, the taste of your smile after you’ve made those apple pies.

He’s left hollowed out, colder than death.

He wants to cry, but even his mind tells him you don’t deserve to cry for the woman you chased away, so he laughs. Laughs until they turn into tears, and even then they don’t feel real. His body is unwilling to yield to the possibility of defeat, and yet here he is.

It was a one in a million chance for us both to survive that Snap, Steve. And Thanos destroyed the stones. If we can’t find a way to bring them back… maybe the only thing we can do now is move on.

Some people move on. But not us... Not us

Take your ring and give it to the girl you really love because it isn’t me.

Steve’s shock. There was less of a protest, only your determination to stop your lip from trembling, the tears already falling from glassy eyes. Grief bit him in the stomach, but yearning tugged his heart toward the platform.

If all you could think about in the ten years we were together was Peggy, I don’t see why I should stop you.

Y/N, you know I love you.

Not enough.

The compound is different. Different plot of land, different inhabitants, different facilities. He pulls up in the lot where the Avengers sign is carved into the stone and he walks the grounds, grounds he used to know but this is different soil.

Another man’s grounds.

“Steve,” Sam says, cautious on the track. He’s wearing a tee-shirt and shorts, skin glistening with sweat and a water bottle in hand. He’s got a comm link in his ear and it glows blue for a moment before muting itself. There are a few recruits running a few laps and Steve eyes them wearily before approaching Sam. His beard was shaved two days ago, his hair chopped clean even though it makes him more noticeable now. He hopes no one says anything about the old Captain America pathetically dragging himself back to a place he tried to run from. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. told me you came in.”

“Yeah. I… I just wanted to see Bucky.” Your name bites at his tongue and it takes all his strength not to confess what happened down in Mexico before Sam glances behind him to a building he doesn’t recognize. It’s connected to the main facility by a long tunnel but there are doors to the track as well, and they open just as Steve fixes his gaze on it.

Two figures stumble out of the building, a piercing shriek splitting the air with glee as one of them runs away from the other. Even from the distance, Steve can see the metal glint of Bucky’s arm, your favourite swimsuit strapped to your body. Bucky’s holding onto something as he chases after you and you barrel through the grass, towel cloaking your shoulders.

“They’re happy, man,” Sam murmurs lowly as they get onto the track and you’re still running but you’re no match for a super soldier. Bucky scoops you up, tossing aside his water gun and wrapping you in a huge hug from behind. “Even if Barnes wants to see you, do you think she does?”

“I already saw her in Mexico,” he utters softly. You’re laughing so loudly it makes Steve’s chest explode with light. You thrash in Bucky’s arms and he pretends to nip at your skin, growl into your ear as you tug at the towel around your neck. You’re… you. Just as he left you. Nothing like Mexico. “Why is she in the field, now? She’s not a soldier.”

“That’s for her to explain, not me. I don’t get to try to describe the hell you put her through, Steve.” Bucky puts you down and your feet in those strappy tan sandals sink into the grass as you spin around. You plant a kiss gently on Bucky’s lips, using the corner of your towel to wipe away drips from his hair before stealing another kiss. Steve’s mouth tingles, burning uncomfortably and he looks away. That used to be him, leaving the pool, smelling like chlorine and sweat and then popsicles to cool down because nothing screamed summer like fruit popsicles and swimming.

“Steve?” A tentative voice calls and Steve’s eyes refocus to the source on reflex. You’re staring at him, eyes narrowed into knife points and you hold Bucky’s arm to your chest, your fingers entwined with his as his old friend walks towards him. “Steve— you’re back? What are you… what are you doing here?”

“Guess the past isn’t where I belong,” he says with a forced smile that digs into his cheeks and Bucky lets go of your hand to hug him but his lips are parted, his eyes wide. He doesn’t believe this is real and when Steve meets your eyes over Bucky’s shoulder, your gaze is burning. Bucky’s arms squeeze around Steve tighter, tight enough that even he can’t breathe. He’s shattered in his arms, Bucky is, and Steve can only hold him.

“Let’s go inside,” Sam says, ever the mediator. Steve looks at him but his eyes are on you, and Bucky’s pulling back and then his eyes are on you, too. All eyes on you and your worried lip between your teeth. You’re tanned, toned, and your hair is shining underneath the summer sun as Bucky steps away from Steve as well. As if the euphoria of having his best friend is gone—it is. He chose a daydream over his family. “You guys need to get dry.”

“Yeah,” Bucky murmurs, eyes darkening as they linger on Steve’s face. Soaking him in, thinking a thousand miles a minute, trying to sort through whatever storm lingers in his head. His eyebrows hood his gaze as he lowers his head and Steve can see him slip away as you take Bucky’s hand, cup his face, and turn him away.

“Popsicles, yeah? Gotta get the last ones before Wanda steals ‘em away,” you whisper and Bucky’s nose brushes against your head before they begin to walk away. Bucky’s shoulders are hunched over and you’ve got an arm around his waist, and there is something sacred in the way his head brushes against yours, the way his arm drapes around your shoulders. The way his fingers play with the fluffy towel around you, bringing the corner of it to your wet cheek. The way you step in tandem.

Something tender, something hallowed, something not his.

You’d been sharp and scorched in Mexico. In Bucky’s presence, you are nothing but dewy grass and a gentle fire, and he sees the tension ease in your shoulders despite a knot lingering in your back.

Once you’d been soft like cotton clouds like it was your nature, eager to stay away from the fight. You were just the receptionist at Stark Towers and Steve had fallen first, so eager to protect you because you were kind, gentle, funny and you didn’t care about who he was. Just that he was Steve and you were you.

I can’t let anything happen to you. You can’t protect yourself against these guys, Y/N. They’re… they’re monsters.

And he left you to them anyway, in a world still struggling to find itself repopulated and alive—

I failed you. I failed everyone.

The realization devastates him. No matter how hard he tried to fix the world, he destroyed his life anyway.

“Come on, man. If you wanna talk, we should do it in private,” Sam says. Steve follows him numbly into a building he doesn’t know anymore.

You’re sitting with your legs bent and angled in towards Bucky, playing with a butterfly knife that flows too easily between your nimble fingers. Sam sits on the leather seat and Steve leans back into the sofa as you bite softly into your red popsicle. Strawberry. Your favourite.

Bucky’s sucking down a blue one but his face is placid, eyes burning into the glass table between them as Sam sits down with a cup of coffee he had offered to make for Steve. The blade flips over your index finger, and then back around again. Your hair is stringy and wet, tied away from your face as you set down the knife and turn to Bucky, eyes searching. You brush his hair away from his face even though it’s cropped shorter now and smile even though he doesn’t focus on you.

He doesn’t miss Bucky’s hand around the curve of your thigh, holding you to him as if you’ll slip away otherwise. He fights the nasty remark pounding against his teeth—that’s his girl his best friend’s got his hand on—but he knows it isn’t his place anymore. Steve watches you lick sweet strawberry melt from your lips, trail your fingers along Bucky’s head delicately and pull his temple towards you for a quick peck.

It’s almost as if Bucky wakes up at your touch, and he turns to you. He searches too, scans your gaze and Steve feels like he’s intruding on a moment so he looks into his lap.

“So?” Sam prompts, tearing everyone out of whatever bubble they’ve encased themselves in and pulling them back into harsh reality. “Who wants to go first?”

There’s silence where Bucky puts down his popsicle stick on the bowl brought out, blue melt sliding down the wood slowly as you bite down on the last of your own treat.

“Steve?” Bucky’s voice is quiet, accepting already.

“I have so many things to say and I don’t even know how to say any of it, but I know to apologize,” the blond says after a moment of hesitation. His breath keeps catching in your throat and you lean forward to drop off your own stick by Bucky’s, almost a statement to his own words. “I’m sorry.”

“For?” Sam asks for clarity, but Steve entertains the notion that maybe even his friend wants to draw it out of him.

“I didn’t know what I had until I lost it.” Steve makes a point to meet three pairs of eyes except you refuse to look at him, instead staring into Bucky’s lap like he doesn’t even exist, like you don’t exist either. “I should’ve stayed. Should’ve thought it through and realized that... everything I had back then is everything I had here.”

“Is that all?” Bucky stares at him with something like pity, something like jealousy, and Steve knows it has all to do with the woman in his arms. Ten years of conflict to push lovers together compared to five years of overcoming heartache because of one man. Steve would be jealous—had been jealous of Steve of 2012. 2012 Steve had a whole decade of love waiting for him and he has none. “Are you here to stay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

“If you think you can come here and have everything that was yours just given to you on a silver platter, then you’re wrong,” you speak up for the first time and it sucks all the warmth out of the room. Bucky turns to you, hand raising from your thigh to brush a wet strand of hair away from your cheek and you clench your jaw, lips pressed together. “We built our lives without you in it.”

“Y/N.” He leans forward, elbows on his knees but you seem to shrink away from him, eyes tortuously meeting his.

“You leaving me was the best thing that could’ve ever happened to me,” you whisper with a rage unbridled, unchained, just barely containing itself from exploding. “It made me realize how much stronger I am then you have ever given me credit for.”

“You weren’t that girl when I met you.” Soft girl with sunshine smiles and gauzy white dresses—lemonade pitchers, tulip gardens—you weren’t that girl, Steve’s mind protests but when you unwind from the couch, stretch every languid muscle in your body, he wonders if he ever saw you as anything more than someone he had to protect.

“I believed you when you said I couldn’t fight.” You stand, gazing openly at him and he swallows at the hopelessness residing in your gaze, still there after five years. “That I wasn’t enough like you to even try to help. All I ever was to you was some pretty little thing who was scared to fight back and maybe I was because you sheltered me for ten fucking years.” Your voice twists with pain, overflowing with a frustration of lost time and pure, pure sadness. “You leaving me made me stand on my own two feet again.”

Bucky reaches forward to take your hand when they all see it tremble but you simply roll it into a fist and step away.

“You put me through hell, Steve. I had to learn how to fight for myself because you weren’t there. Because you left me for some fucking daydream.” For a moment, he thinks you soften because your eyebrows fall and you close your eyes. The muscle in your jaw ticks, your nose twitches, and when you open your eyes again, they are glassy with tears. “You utterly destroyed me, you know that? I loved you more than I needed to breathe and you just walked away. I lost everything and you walked away.”

Tony. Natasha. Boss. Best friend. Colleague. Sister.

“How could you do that?” you whimper, blinking as tears scorch down your cheeks and you wipe them away angrily with the heel of your hand. “How could you just look at me, look at Sam, look at Bucky, and think that there is nothing worth staying for?” You throw out your hand helplessly, waiting for an answer that won’t come and Steve chews on the inside of his cheek, throat swelling shut.

“It felt like minutes,” Bucky says at last, and the darkness in the room, the stifled feeling in Steve’s chest eases only a tad because Bucky is not nearly as thunderous as you are. You twist to look at him, arms crossed over your chest and Sam reaches to touch your arm, fingers wrapped around your bicep. You spare him a glance before looking at Bucky. “We died, we came back five years later, and it only felt like minutes.”

“Bucky—”

“You chose to leave what felt like minutes after I died, after Sam died, and when Y/N told me what happened… Steve…” A shuddering convulses down his throat and Bucky looks down into his lap. You unfold your arms and immediately go to sink into the couch, wrapping an arm around Bucky. Your eyes pin him down, red-rimmed with unshed tears, accusing: you did this to an already broken man.

“I’m so sorry, Buck.” The apology sounds plastic in his mouth with how many times he’s said it, thought it. “I’m so sorry.” He says it again anyways, and he directs it at the two other bodies in the room. You gauge his expression, watch him like he’ll vanish in a flash of smoke.

“I was happy for you if leaving meant I never had to see you again. I know you deserve a happy ending, Steve. You deserve rest more than anyone I know,” he says, “but you need to know what you want before you decide to risk it all. You can’t come crawling back for second chances because there are none. You don’t come back and have everything stay the same. There’s a price every time you give something up.” He looks up, eyes like clear water. There’s nothing angry in his old friend’s gaze, just drained. “If you’re here to stay, you better be sure that this is what you want in the end.” And then Bucky is up, rubbing at his face like he’s tired rather than an inch from crying. Steve watches him go—they all do—silently, and then you look at Sam who gets up to follow.

There’s a moment when you meet eyes with Steve and he can feel the love you swaddled him in for ten years, through the Snap, through the Accords. No matter where he was, you were there.

Then that love disappears.

“I want you to hurt like you made me hurt,” you begin softly, hands folded in your lap, t-shirt hanging off your frame, stuffed into your shorts. “Like you still make me hurt. I want you to wake up crying, I want you to rub your face raw, I want you to stay awake all night just wondering why this has happened. I want nothing more than you begging on your knees for something you can’t stop no matter how hard you try because somehow you just aren’t enough.”

He closes his eyes, lets your words devour him whole.

“Bucky was there,” you continue quietly. “He was there for me in a way you never were. He drove me home after you left. Told me that the best was yet to come. That I just couldn’t see it yet, and I didn’t believe him. For the longest time, I didn’t believe a single word he said.”

“Until you did.”

“Until one day, I looked at him and told him I know. That I know, one day, things will change,” you agree and something melts in your voice when you speak of Bucky. Kindred souls, the same heartache lurking still in chests just beginning to warm from love again. “Maybe it hurt less that day so I decided that I have to accept that this was my life now or maybe I was just so sick of crying that I told myself that this isn’t who I’m going to be. I don’t know. I just woke up one day, and he asked if I wanted to go swimming. First summer after everyone came back, and I wanted to say no, but I just had to say yes because it was swimming, and it was Bucky, and he was barely holding it together but here he was… taping and gluing me like I was some abstract project.” You chuckle, a wet sound, before glancing down at your knees. There is something you’re not telling him, and he knows it’s something secret to you and Bucky alone, so he doesn’t push it. Doesn’t ask—his chest already feels like it’s cracked open. “Some of the pieces won’t ever fit again.”

“Bucky,” Steve says, “did he train you?”

“Yeah.” Explains a Black Widow move. You sound proud, but not of yourself, of your own feats and talent, but of him. “He encouraged it. Said it was only right I knew how to fight.” Steve’s stomach turns and he looks down to swallow. Bile is burning in his throat. The threads of his heart are tearing.

“I know it’s all I’ve been saying, but I’m sorry. I… I just tried to protect you in every way I could.”

“I know.” Your words are soft against his battered ears, and he looks up at you sitting there, ramrod straight but a certain gentleness that reminds him of the past. “I know you loved me in the way you could.” Clutching, grasping, desperate not to lose another woman he loves. “When you saw Peggy, did you just decide that that was easier?”

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I just felt like I was missing something. Something…”

“... you couldn’t find here?”

“Just something.”

You ruminate on that, eyes fixed on the popsicle sticks and Steve rubs his hands together, head bowed. The silence is terse but not hostile, and you pick up the butterfly knife on the cushion. You don’t flick it open, just run your thumb over the edge and Steve thinks you might cut him stem to stern before you place it down on the glass table.

“I used to stay up all night wondering where I went wrong,” you say it frankly. It’s not meant to hurt him anymore. You seem tired of being angry, but it’s still there, just there underneath your skin. “I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t eat unless Bucky made me. I would’ve rather starved than live in a world where you didn’t love me, but he said if he had to go on, then so did I. He never asked for anything in return, and I was just so fucking angry at myself that I listened to him just to spite myself. I cried all the time. I didn’t move from my bed for months. Yet, one little part of me,” you murmur, gaze rising to meet his, “always just wanted you to be happy. I wanted so desperately for you to make the right choice because then maybe this would’ve been worth it for you.”

It’s big. Your words hang on imaginary strings around his head, whistling in the faint air conditioned wind, and he clenches his jaw, unable to tear his eyes away from you. Although you’re barely holding yourself together before him, you’re deathly beautiful.

“I’m so glad that you’re so loved,” Steve intones quietly. “I’m so thankful that Bucky loves you.” He doesn’t need eyes to feel it. It’s a quiet thing, unshaking yet fragile as flowers and light as dandelion wisps.

“I didn’t think he did.” You lean back into the couch, tuck your feet underneath yourself and cross your arms over your chest. “It took me a long time to accept that he does, and now he won’t believe that I do, too.”

The confession sinks its teeth into Steve’s throat and threatens to tear his flesh.

“I tell him and I can tell he doesn’t believe me sometimes. No matter how much I want him to, it’s the one thing he can’t believe because…”

You were my girl, Steve thinks.

“He doesn’t believe he’s worth staying for. Worth choosing. You did that to him, you know? Did that to me.”

“I know.”

You stare at him and he looks at you, curled up on the couch. Your face is drying, but that torn expression still sits on your face as you run a hand over your middle, fingers folding as you close your eyes and duck your head.

His eyes trace the gesture, eyebrows knitting together, and then he looks at you because he knows. Because it had been their dream once, and when the fight is over, baby. The world still needs you, Captain America.

He had said, half joking, When will they ever stop needing me?

When you grow old and grey, and another Captain America is ready to take your place.

“Bucky’s?” he asks, body numbing. You nod, raising your eyes to his. “Does he know?”

“No. I only found out a few days after Mexico.” Three weeks ago. “I want to make it past a few more weeks, just to make sure.” You tuck your knees to your chest, arms folded over your abdomen and Steve tries to imagine it swollen with life. No longer lean with muscle but bountiful with a miracle. Blue eyes, blonde hair— no. Not anymore. “Just wanted time.”

Time. It’s all he’s ever wanted, and now…

“I know.”

Now he has none at all.

Your eyes meet his, fluttering and haunted, and he simply meets your gaze. There’s a quiet understanding in that moment as you bring your hands up to hug yourself, and he swallows, leaning back into the couch. His hands rest on his thighs, and your back sinks into the back cushion of your loveseat as he thinks of what to say.

Perhaps there is nothing to say.

Instead, his right hand goes to his pocket where a ring is still pinched tightly in between the creases. The diamond is sharp against his flesh, and he tugs it out carefully before setting it on the glass table between them. You stare at the thing, watch it glint. It’s mocking you, but Steve doesn’t want it and he doesn’t know what else to do.

“It’s always been yours,” he says, pushing it to your side of the table. The diamond scrapes against glass but doesn’t leave a mark. “It’s never been anyone else’s but yours.” The ring clatters against the gass. You’d worn that damned thing for years on end. First it was the Accords, then Wakanda, then the Snap, and he should’ve married you when he had the chance—he should’ve done so much more than what he did.

“Do you love me?” you ask quietly, eyes unmoving from the winking gemstone. The golden band is glowing in the pale lights of the compound as he nods.

“Yes.”

You reach forward to grab it, extend a leg to shove it into the pocket of your shorts, and then you’re sitting there, feet on solid ground again. You gauge him, study him, eyebrows down, lips curved into a soft frown.

“Okay.”

You stand and pick up the knife before grabbing the bowl as well. You clear your throat and look over Steve’s head, at the walls with photographs and paintings and a dartboard by the doorway, and then you look at Steve again.

Your futile attempt at a smile makes Steve smile, just barely, before you walk past him and head for the open kitchen. You set the bowl down in the sink before heading for the hallway, and Steve can hear your step, your off-rhythm breathing.

“Do you love me?” he asks, turning to look at you, and a sigh whispers past his lips as you pause. Your hand is in your pocket as you turn around, playing with the knife or the ring, he doesn’t know.

“You can’t ask me that, Steve.” Your voice is steel, your eyes unforgiving, and that soft girl is swallowed up by the scorched woman, burned by his absence. You haven’t forgiven him. You never will. “Look, I’m going to go find Bucky. We have… we’re going berrypicking in the afternoon, so…”

“Yeah, no, go. Don’t let me keep you.”

“See you tomorrow, Rogers.”

There’s an utter sense of finality to it. A chapter closing permanently and you’re already on the next page.

“See you.”

The door slides shut and you’re gone.

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havethetimeofyourstyles · 4 years

Text

here it is! the first part of UTCM!

wc: 4.8k

taglist | story masterlist

͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧

With clothes flying across the room, trying to make each article of clothing land in the target of a rectangle, you rummage through your closet, trying to find the specific piece of your most treasured clothing.

One that meant something special to you.

As you dig through your drawer, trying to find the thick, vintage tee your dad had given you (more like you stole it and never gave it back), your hand finally feels the familiar material that has brought you comfort and lots of compliments if you do say so yourself.

With a proud ‘bingo’ escaping your lips, you’re not surprised that it’s the only shirt you folded and gently put into your suitcase. You looked around your room, finding the hurricane of clothing sprawled out on the floor and your bikini top on your lap shade. Laughing a bit, you drop to your knees and begin to pick up your clothes, stuffing it into the suitcase.

You check the time and see that it’s five minutes to 9 AM and your phone rings on your bedside table, knowing you’re behind schedule. You quickly grab your phone, placing it between your shoulder and your ear, and continue grabbing your clothes.

“Yellow?”

“Honey, quit answering the phone like that.” You take the phone from your shoulder and put it at arms reach before sighing, knowing you should’ve looked at the caller ID.

“Hello, mother. How are you on this fine morning?” Your voice changes from playful to proper tone only to tease her.

“Oh, quit it. I was just calling to see if you were all packed and ready.”

“Yup!” You say confidently, looking around your room as it says otherwise. Obviously, packing wasn’t your greatest talent.

It was your best friend’s parent’s anniversary. Minny has informed you a month ago, knowing that you would procrastinate on packing, and to be fair, she was right. Packing wasn’t your favorite, and she knew that. Aww, my best friend knows me so well.

You and Minny have been best friends since you were 7. You two met at school and were in the same class. Because of the two’s last names being right next to each other on the roll call, you were assigned to sit right next to her. Throughout the years in school, you had always remained close. Sure, you two have met other people and became friends with them, but nothing came as close as the bond you have with her.

It was 20 years of eating at lunch together, never missing a day. Sleepovers. Day and night calls to gossip or vent. Laughs. Petty arguments. Crying over stupid boys and girls that broke your heart. Monthly ‘glo the fuck up’ day. Jogging in the park. Living life. And most importantly, love.

Damn, we’re getting old.

“I’m sad I can’t make it to Dan and Lina’s anniversary trip.” Your mother sighed over the phone.

Yours and Minny’s family had practically become one big family when you both turned 10. With occasional sleepovers and meet ups at the mall, your parents had become really great friends with hers.

“I know, Mom. But you practically see them everyday, so it’s fine. They understand why.” You try reasoning out with her.

“I hope so.” She sighs sadly on the phone, and it makes your heart hurt.

“They do understand. Trust me.”

“I wish you were here-” She immediately cuts off.

“Mom, I can go with you. I don’t have to go on Dan and Lina’s trip. Let me call Minny so I can tell her to not come by.”

“No, no!” You pause. “Please, don’t miss out on having fun for me. I want you to have fun. You deserve it.” You nod, even though she can’t see you. You check the time, and know you’re running out of time to finish packing.

“You deserve it too, Mom.” She doesn’t say anything, but you know she’s smiling on the other side of the call.

“Hey, Mom. I gotta go. Minny is almost here to pick me up, so I just wanna double check everything.”

“Of course, honey. I’ll call Lina later. Say hi to Minny for me. I love you.”

“Will do. I love you too.” The door knocks once you hang up the call. Curses scolding yourself for being so lazy and procrastinating fly from your lips as you get the door.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” The last person you were expecting was seeing your ex boyfriend on your doorstep with keys in his hand. He wore rust color corduroy pants, a stripe shirt, and a turquoise jacket that’s stitched on the side. His hair was pushed back by his black sunglasses and he was wearing his pearl necklace. You hate to admit that he looks good and can possibly rock anything he wore, and you despised him for that along with other reasons.

“Wow. No, hi or how are you Harry? I’m doing great, thanks for asking.” He says sarcastically and you roll your eyes, walking back to your room to finish packing. “Well, I see you’re still not that great with organizing your time, or your clothes.” You don’t say anything because you really don’t want to speak to him at the moment, or at all. “I’m assuming Minny didn’t tell you.” Your eyes perk up into confusion.

“Minny didn’t tell me what?” You ask, continuing to fold the last pair of clothes.

“She asked me to pick you up. You know, to take you to the lake house.” If it were possible, steam was coming out of your ears. Why hadn’t Minny told you? You huff loudly for Harry to know that you’re clearly annoyed before grabbing your phone and immediately dialing Minny’s number, and waiting for her to pick up.

Harry looks around your room, seeing as things haven't changed with you, and you want to kick him out as soon as you're done talking to Minny.

“Hey, girl! Are you on your way?” Her voice is high and she clearly is not prepared for what you’re about to give her.

“How can you have Harry pick me up? And why didn’t you tell me that you couldn’t pick me up?”

“Clearly, you’re the best at greeting people anymore.” Harry says, leaning against the door frame as he wears a smirk, and you immediately flick him off. He puts his hand on his chest with an exaggerated jaw drop, pretending to be offended.

“I’m so sorry. I meant to tell you, I promise. But my dumbass of a brother decided to come last minute because his plans got cancelled, and so we were all rushing out the door and putting everything in the car.” You hear Minny’s brother, Jackson, say ‘hey!’ and you sigh.

“It’s okay, I understand.” Not wanting to be annoyed anymore, you brush it off.

“I can find someone else to pick me up, no worries.” Harry raises his hands up as if he’s saying ‘I’m literally here to pick you up.’

“No! Just take the ride from Harry. After all, he is staying at the house too.” Your eyes widen.

“What?! Why would you invite him?”

“You know, you’re doing a lot of talking like I’m not here in the room right now.” You mouth ‘shut up’ to him.

“Please, just go with him. We’re almost there anyways and I don’t want you guys to be late because you want to be difficult. Just ride with him. It’s only like a 3 hour drive and you can sleep on the way, and then not talk to him for the rest of the trip.” She persuades.

Minny was always good at persuading people. In college, both of you were commuting from home and didn’t stay at the dorms, so you didn’t know that many people, especially not in the frat or sorority houses. She had convinced her parents that they needed a weekend to get out of the house and take a nice getaway trip, laying out the pros and cons so she can throw a party. And they really thought her pros outweigh the cons.

“Ugh! Okay, fine.”

“Thank you! Love you! Bye!” She gets off the phone quickly, and you turn to Harry.

“Shall we get on the road?” He smiles. You were finally finished with packing and rolled your luggage to the front, ignoring him. He comes out of your room with your bikini top in his hand, and your eyes widen, forgetting to take it from the lampshade. “Think you forgot this.” He holds it up and you snatch it quickly. And you’re both out the door and possibly going on the worst trip.

Two weeks and I’ll be home.

͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧

Two hours down. One more to go.

The entirety of the car ride had been filled with awkwardness and silence. If music hadn’t been playing, you were sure you were going to explode. Harry had asked you if you were alright about a million times or if you were too hot or cold. You kept your responses to a minimum, replying with ‘yeah, I’m good’ or ‘I’m okay’. Harry was gripping the steering wheel so tight, that he was sure his hand would cramp up when he tried to unlatch. The tension and awkwardness was getting to him. He hated that things had ended up like this between the two of you, but he was willing to change that. He wants to change that.

“R. E. D.” He says suddenly after minutes of not talking, and just listening to the sound of the music and the engine of the car.

“Pardon?” You turn to face him.

“C’mon, you don’t remember the game we used to play when we would go on road trips?” He asks hopefully, looking at you quickly before turning his head back on the road.

Of course you remember. Hours on the road with him, going to the next destination when he was on tour or outside of the city to get away from everything, led you both to play road trip games that included saying 3 random letters and finding it on a license plate. It’s what made traveling fun and the hours on the road much more interesting. Especially with Harry.

“Yeah, I remember.” You say softly, not showing emotion.

“Okay, well, start looking.”

“You weren’t very good at this game.” You say, but quickly close your mouth, not realizing that you’re thinking out loud.

And Harry’s surprised. He knows that your comment was a teasing one, and he was worried that he would t get a single sentence out of your mouth without you yelling in his face. “I’m very good at this game!”

“I mean, considering that my board was filled with tallies, then I would think you’re bad at it.” You let out a chuckle and Harry has a big smile on his face, thinking it’ll hurt his cheeks later on.

“You literally gave me impossible letters to work with!”

“They’re license plates, not people’s names!” You tease.

“Just look for R.E.D!” He ends the conversation. Although he didn’t want to, he knew that you’re most likely going to blow up in his face if you two acted like a happy couple again. He knew that you would overthink about the bad things overlapping the good, and you would go back to resenting him.

And he was right.

After he ended the conversation, you were thinking about what could’ve been between you; what could still be if he weren’t an asshole. The laughs and teasing you two had just a minute ago were replaced with deep breaths, not knowing if one of you should say a thing again.

There were only a few cars on the same road for you; going to different places. You wondered if people going on a road trip had the same situation with you and Harry: the sharp tension that can be cut like a knife or wanting to jump out of the car.

You must have blanked out for a while because Harry had gotten off the highway and onto a secluded street that leads to the lake house.

The drive through the woods with high boulders and tall trees had you speechless. You got as close to the window as possible, looking up like you’ve just seen a shooting star. Nature has always been such a fascination to you. You’ve always loved camping trips and hiking; so much that you’re currently an environmental scientist.

You don’t notice with your head practically sticking out the window, but Harry is having such a hard time keeping his eyes on the road. He thinks that it’s admirable how passionate you are, especially about nature and animals because it’s rare that people end up doing what they love. And he loves seeing you so passionate about what you love.

The drive surrounded by the forest didn’t take long; about 20 minutes, and Harry had already pulled up into the gravel driveway in front of the lake house.

The famous lake house that Lina and Dan have owned for 30 years; ever since they got married. It was a rather large lake house; able to fit two families of four. With brown wood hammered onto the sides and evergreen border along the windows, the house was generally very comfortable and homey. They had kept renovating throughout the years to keep up with the times changing, and they’re loving how modern it looks as of now, but very welcoming at the same time.

“Well, we’re finally here.” Harry says, cutting off the ignition and getting out of the car. You do the same as well and meet him where the truck is popped open, Harry grabbing his bags. You went to reach for it, but Harry slaps your hand away.

“Hey!”

“Don’t worry about the bags. I got them.”

“Thanks.” You give him a soft smile.

“And besides, you’ve packed for like a month when we’re gonna be here for two weeks, and you were barely able to carry it out of your house.” He teases.

“For a matter of fact, I happen to be very strong.” You cross your arms.

“Okay, whatever you say, Captain.” The pet name slipped out. When you and Harry were together, he started calling you Captain because sometimes you can be so aggressive and demanding, but passionate, that it felt like you were the Captain of the ship, which technically you were. You were always in charge, always right, and always planning everything. Captain just stuck, and he thought it was so perfect for you.

The pet name had definitely startled you. You haven’t heard that name come from his lips in forever. And admittingly, you missed it. But you don’t tell him that, of course.

Harry notices your shock and just smiles instead of pushing it. He instead walks towards the car once his hands are full.

“Hey, Harry?” He could’ve sworn that his head got jumbled up at your call for him because of how fast he turned around.

“Yes?”

“R.E.D.” You pointed towards Minny’s car with a smirk on your face. Harry looks at her license plate and his jaw drops, but you see the corners of his lips turn up.

“How did you-”

“You think I don’t know my best friend’s license plate when she’s had this car for 4 years?” Your smile is amusing and Harry has missed this side from you.

“Well done.” He drops the bags and starts clapping.

“Make sure to mark my tally.” You walk past him and towards the house. Harry turns around, watching you walk. Specifically landing his eyes on your hips and watching them sway like you own the fucking world. It’s endearing and he loves it. He loves how sometimes you can walk the whole universe and own it, but he always loves how you shy away from things and look for reassurance. He loves it.

You don’t turn around because with the smile and hint of blush that crept onto your face, it’s bound to be a disaster if he sees it.

“Aye, aye, Captain.” He chuckles before picking up the bags and following your footsteps.

͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧

The inside of the house was opposite of what it looked like from the outside. While the outside was rustic and dark looking, the inside was light and provided very much needed natural lighting due to the big window that overlooks the lake. Sun shines bright through the window and into the house that it almost hurts to look out, but that’s Mother Nature at her finest.

You head up to your usual bedroom that you claimed when you were younger, having taken trips to this house for so many years that your feet just subconsciously took you to your room.

It remained the same: big window that led to a small balcony, wooden frame bed, and a mattress that is the perfect size and comfort for you. The walls were white, and with the light coming through, it made the room look even bigger.

Usually you and Minny would sleep in the same room, but there were enough rooms so you two can have your own. But there were some nights where you would spend the night with her, and her, you.

You hadn’t noticed Harry following you to your room, but when you hear bags drop onto the floor, you jump and turn around. “You scared me.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to. Thought you heard me following you.”

“No, I didn’t. I was just distracted with my thoughts.”

Harry leans against the door frame and crosses his arms. “What about?” He asks curiously.

“Just… haven’t been here in a while, and I miss it.” He only nods, and it quickly goes back to silence. “Thank you for bringing my bags up.” This time, he smiles.

“Not a problem. Let me know if you need anything else, Captain.” You chuckle.

“Will do.” He leaves your room and shuts the door close, knowing you’d probably want to settle in and change into more lounge clothing.

You sit on your bed, facing the window, and look out at the lake. You don’t know what you’re feeling. Before you saw him today, you would just get mad that you’re thinking about him, but that car ride broke every anger that clung onto your body. It was like your mind naturally reacted to Harry in a way that you couldn’t control. You can control anything else, but not with Harry. You naturally felt a pull towards him, and no matter how much you wanted to cut off the string you couldn’t.

You had definitely missed the feeling of being around him, and that makes you angry. Angry at yourself because he hurt you.

You try not to cry with the thoughts swirling in your head. You take in the beautiful view from your bedroom and tell yourself that you shouldn’t be sad because you’ve got a long trip ahead of you.

As you changed into your lounge clothes, you headed downstairs to greet the family that was just back from the backyard.

“Oh, sweetheart! I’m so happy you’re here!” Lina greets you with a warm hug. Dan does the same, giving you a bear hug.

“Happy anniversary! How are you guys?” You ask the married couple.

“We’re doing great! I’m excited this time has come again! We’ve got so much planned.” You smile at their excitement. They turned to look at each other and you can’t help but admire their love for one another, even after all these years.

Yours and Minny’s parents’ love was like no other. You were pretty blessed to grow up around healthy relationships, and can’t help but feel so fond of the love they have for each other and wanting it for yourself.

“The kids are still outside.” Lina kisses your cheek and Dan pats your shoulder before they head to the kitchen.

You walk through the glass slide door that leads to the stunning view of the water that the sun reflects onto. You take a deep inhale in, breathing in the world’s scent. The outside is such a beauty that some people take it for granted.

“Ahh!” The famous screams come from no other than Minny. “You’re here!” She runs to you and you engulf her into a big and hard hitting hug. Jackson also hugs you and runs his hand on top of your head, messing up your hair.

“Dickhead!” You slap his chest.

“How are you, other little sister?”

“Oh, you know, here.” You say, not knowing what to say, so ‘here’ is usually your backup for not really wanting to say how you feel.

Minny rolls her eyes, knowing you all too well for your liking. “How was the drive?”

“It was…interesting.”

“Well, that’s my cue to go.” Jackson walks back to the house, and leaves Minny and I to talk.

“Was it that bad?” Minny asks worriedly.

“No, it wasn’t bad. It was just awkward and there was tension between us. But then we started playing our famous road trip game and I started teasing him, and ugh! I smiled and laughed a little and I hated it.” You huffed and looked down.

“What, why?”

“I-I don’t know. I just… I was expecting to have the worst trip when he showed up at my doorstep, but my mind is taking over.”

“Your mind or your heart?” Minny tests. You don’t reply. You just look at her, not knowing if she genuinely wanted a response or she was just testing you.

“Why did you invite him?” You ask at the wrong time because you don’t hear the sliding door open, revealing Harry.

“Hey, Minny.” He smiles softly at her and steps out of the house to hug her. Your breath was hitched in your throat, feeling guilty about your question because you didn’t hear him.

“Hey, Harry.” She smiles back and hugs him. Once they let go of their embrace, Harry turns to you.

“If you don’t want me here so bad, then the Captain shall be obeyed.” He teases, but you know that he’s more hurt than what he puts on. He puts on a brave face, but really you see it in his eyes that he’s hurt. You know that your question had hurt him and it was just the wrong timing to ask that.

“I didn’t mean it like that…”

“Didn’t you?” His head turns slightly, knowing he’s trying to keep his annoyance intact. His voice is different and sarcastic. Minny senses the shift of tension, so she breaks it.

“I invited him because he’s been my friend as long as you have, so he’s practically family too. He’s been to every trip as well, and besides, my parents love him.” She places her arm on Harry’s shoulder, and you can’t help but feel like they’re teaming up against you. Harry walks ahead of us and goes inside while you and Minny trail behind him. You know you shouldn’t think of it like that because they’re not, but you feel like such a downer once you found out that Harry was tagging along. “Let’s go in and eat lunch!” Minny changes the subject, feeling like that’s what they really needed. “By the way, which letters did he ask for?” Minny asks.

“R.E.D,” you smile amusingly and roll your eyes, giving your best friend the ‘I know right?’ look. She laughs loudly, throwing her head back and clutching her stomach.

“Well that was an easy win for you.” She says and you nod, before putting an arm around your shoulder, walking inside the house for lunch.

Lina had prepared salad, homemade garlic bread, Brussel sprouts, and mashed potatoes. Dan had cooked his famous ribs, one that was his specialty ever since he was a young adult. They didn’t want to cook right when they got to the house, so they prepared it beforehand and took it with them.

The six sat down at the table that was set in front of the window. Dan at the end of the table, Lina on his right, Minny right next to Lina, you on the other end, Harry next to you, and Jackson next to Harry. Everyone was loading food on their plates before passing it around or across the table, Lina making sure everyone got one of each.

“Alright, eat up!”

The conversation flowed throughout the table. The parents asked the kids how work was going, to which everyone responded that it was going well.

“Harry, honey, is your mom and sister planning to stay as well?” Lina asks.

Harry clears his throat and wipes his mouth before replying, “they might come at the end of the week—probably the weekend. Gems couldn’t get out of work, so they’ll only stay for a few days.” She nodded and turned to you.

“Has your mother changed her mind? About coming?” She gives you a sympathetic look.

“I don’t think so. She said she would call you later.” Lina smiles at that. Your eyes naturally gravitated towards Harry and he has a confused look on his face looking back at you, but you look down at your plate before picking up your ribs and taking a bite out of them.

You listen to the conversation while you eat; Dan telling the table a story about a cliff diving incident that happened to Lina when they were in Greece, and the whole table was laughing their ass off, even though they’ve heard it a million times; it never gets old.

You finished your rib and set it down on your plate before wiping your hands down, and before you went to wipe your lips, you felt a napkin, one that’s not yours, wipe your cheek. You turn and see Harry trying to get the stained sauce from your skin.

“Thank you.” You say awkwardly once he’s done, and he gives you a smile followed by a chuckle. He didn’t mean to do that. He knew you were a messy eater and it was a habit that he wiped stuff off your face. A habit that worked well for the both of you, like you were a team. A natural born team.

Once everyone was finished with lunch, it was nearing 2 p.m already, and the group decided to split and do whatever they please as they were going to be all together tomorrow and the rest of the trip.

After everyone helped clean up the table and kitchen, you decided to take a nap before watching the sun set for the day.

Your body hit the mattress and soft pillows that made you feel like you were on a cloud. The room was dark, thanks to the thick curtains that hung from the metal rod. The only light that was shown was a strip of it coming from the curtain not being able to close all the way. You snuggled your pillow, happy you’re finally getting some rest after a long day.

When you woke up, it was still light out, but not as sunny as it was prior to your nap. You stretched your limbs out, relieving the feeling of any tense muscles from your sleep, and walked downstairs and to the backyard.

“Good nap?” Harry says from the lawn chair that is set on the grass. You rub your eyes, nodding while closing the sliding door. There’s a vacant seat next to him, and you’re not quite sure if you want to sit next to him or watch the sun disappear when your feet are in the water. “Want to sit here?” He asks as if he read your mind.

“I-”

“I can see that you’re debating if you want to sit next to me or not, so I can leave and you can sit here if you want.” He says, and you feel bad a bit. He already thinks that you don’t want him here, and he’s simply here for Lina and Dan.

“It’s okay. You can stay. I’m just going to go by the water.” He only nods and you walk away.

The water softly hits the shore and you feel the coldness of it hit your feet. It’s refreshing and cooling, hoping it’ll cool down your nerves and your mood.

You cross your arms as you watch the sun slowly begin to set. The fascination you have with the sun is like no other. It reminds you of the feeling of hope and a new beginning; how the sun setting resembles the end of a story, a day. And tomorrow is a new day.

You can’t help but think about your situation with Harry and how it’s hypocritical to be talking about a new story when you’ve been clinging onto his story. You feel a little stressed keeping the grudge and anger towards him bottled up because he hurt you bad, but you’re also still in love with him.

As the sky turned from light to dark, you turned around to go inside, and to see if Harry was still sitting on the chair. But when you’re walking away from the water and towards the house, you see the chair empty, and you don't know why you have a sad feeling in your chest.

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

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Survey #444

“the monster you made is wearing the crown / i’ll be the king, and you’ll be the clown”

Do you take off from school, or work for your birthday? Ha, I used to try to talk Mom into letting me stay home from school... It only sometimes worked. Have you ever created ‘open when’ letters for someone? No. That'd be cute for an s/o, though. What is the best thing about being in the relationship you’re in right now or about being single? Not having to fear my partner leaving because of the struggles I'm going through. Not having to worry about not being enough for another person, because I'm not even enough for myself. Do you have a favourite painting? Not by a historical artist, no, but there is a piece by a deviantART artist called "Denialism" (by NukeRooster/Tatchit, if you're interested) that I adore so much I've actually gotten her permission to get it tattooed one day when I can afford a brilliant artist to do it. What are some of the best life hacks you know? /shrug What makes you smile without fail? MARK LAUGHING laj;sdkafjwlk;erj Do you know what you’ll be getting your loved ones for the holidays this winter? No clue. That's still a whiles off. What is your biggest short-term goal (within the next month)? Just lose a decent amount of weight for a month's time. What will your next tattoo be of? It depends on what cash I have available, really. As much as it sucks, I think my next tat is a whiles off because I just have more pressing things to pay for. Has anyone very close to you ever died? Besides pets, the closest human to me that's ever died was Jason's mom. If you were throwing your significant other/best friend a themed party, what would the theme be? Uh, Frieza-related, obviously. Do you feel prepared for the apocalypse? I don't believe in the apocalypse in the biblical sense of it being determined by an ultimate power, so this isn't something I really think about. Whenever humanity ends, it ends. I don't have a say, so I may as well not obsess over it. Do you think you will have children naturally, adopt, or forgo having children altogether? I'm not having kids, but if I did, I know that either I'd have to give birth to them or my hypothetical wife would for me to feel *properly* connected to them as a mother should. Oh, or if my male partner had a kid from a previous relationship, but I'd have to be REALLY in love with him to feel like that child is also my own. Do you take pictures of yourself on a daily basis? Oh god no. Do you believe in angels? No, but rather just spirits. Is there anything in your past that you used to regret, but now you don’t? Hm, maybe? Does your knee hurt? My knees always hurt. Has anyone ever called you sexy? Yes. Do you like raisins? omg nooooo What is your favorite bug? Butterflies! :') Do you like Scrabble? Sure, it's fun for a board game. Do you have a printer? Yes. What is your favorite food? Cheeseburgers or pizza, probably. I know, so American. Have you ever overheard a conversation you weren’t supposed to? Yes. Do you like ants? They are very fascinating when you really think about it, but I still find them incredibly annoying. Did you like the movie Antz? I loved it as a kid. Have you ever drank goat milk? No, I don't believe so. What’s your favorite video game? Silent Hill 2 and Shadow of the Colossus. Do you like cats? I love kitties!!! :') Are goldfish your favorite fish? No. I think my favorite is probably the lionfish. Do you like vanilla pudding? No. I only like chocolate pudding. What is your opinion on gay marriage? I 100% support it and would fight to the death for it. What is your opinion on gay adoption? Don't even fucking look at me if you see a problem with a parentless child finding a home with two people in love. Who was the last person you had a crush on? Sara. What’s the most expensive piece of clothing you own? I have zero clue. Why do you drive the car you have right now? I don't have my own car. Have you ever seen your best friend cry? Omg yes and it sucks. Are you friends with your neighbors? No. What is your current desktop picture? One of my favorite pictures of my late pup, Teddy. What’s the coolest thing you’ve seen out the window of an airplane? Mountains! Does your neighbor have any pets? *shrug* Have you ever swam in a mountain lake? No, but that sounds VIBIN'. Has a cat/dog ever thrown up on your bed? alksdjflk;a;jdfalwe yes Have you ever had a concussion? One or two. Do you know anyone who has a pet gecko? Not currently, I think? I want a fat-tailed gecko, though. :( Would you ever go bear hunting? I wouldn't dare hunt ANY animal. Have you ever seen two movies at the theater in a row? I have not. How many teenagers do you know who have babies? I know no teen personally that has a child, but there were some pregnant students in high school. If you could keep your parents or trade them for other parents, which would you pick? I would NEVER change my parents. Is there a piggy bank in the room you’re in? It's not a "piggy" bank, per se, but my sister got me a skull one that she says is for my tattoo funds. :') How many sets of twins do you know? Two, off the very top of my head. If you have younger siblings, are you very protective of them? Yes. No one fucks with her for as long as I live. If you have older siblings, are they very protective of you? Not especially. Who is your favorite Disney Channel person? Uhhh, maybe Raven Symone? How many pets do you have? Just two. Do you think you will be successful in life? No. :/ What do you have pierced? My earlobes, twice, and my bottom lip. I have been dyinnnnggg for some new ones lately. :/ Does techno annoy you as much as it annoys me? No, I actually enjoy quite a bit of techno. What’s your comfort food? Ice cream. Do you like paranormal stuff? YES. Do you have a favorite stuffed toy? Rebel, my adorable meerkat plush from Jason, and Brownie, my moose from Cabela's. What’s the most exciting project you were given? In a way, my senior project since you got to choose your own topic, but I dreaded the presentation. Do you have a good sense of direction? Not at ALL. What are your favorite colour for a cat? Orange! If you had to live your life carrying a shield, what would its design be? This is gonna sound super, super cheesy, but probably a heart to symbolize how love should and could block the effects of hate and general evil and that we should pursue that instead of violence. Out of all the cancers, which one do you think needs to find a cure first? Oh god, they all do. If I had to pick one though, it'd be one of the inevitably fatal kinds, like pancreatic. What are your general afterthoughts when you’ve finished a book? I feel accomplished for actually reading to a story's completion. How many pairs of glasses (not sunglasses) have you owned? Two, I think? What color is your flash-drive? Hot pink. Have you ever built a sand castle? Yeah. How many houses have you lived in? Six. One I have no memory of. Do you shut off the water while you brush your teeth? Yes. What video game should everybody play at least once? Amnesia: A Machine for PIgs for the symbolism. It blows my mind how most horror fans hate it; it's like they totally miss the point. 100 years from now, what modern things will people look back on and say, “WTF?” Hopefully things like homophobia, racism, misogyny, concepts like those. What is impossible to understand until it happens to you? Mental illness, to name only one thing. What fictional food item from a television show, cartoon, movie, or video game have you always wanted to try? Hm. There's a lot that has looked super good, really. What’s something that gets much more hate than it deserves? Nickelback, lmao. What phrases or sayings drive you crazy? "Everything happens for a reason," "it could be worse/some people have it worse," "it's all part of God's plan," "just think positive"... a lot of stuff. Do you have a deviantART? I do, even though Eclipse made it fucking suck. I only really stay because I cling to the dying hope of being at least somewhat successful on there, and I enjoy keeping tabs on the artwork of the hundreds of people I watch there. Who is your favorite character in your favorite movie? Mufasa, even if he doesn't last long in the movie. :''''''( Have you ever been to Germany? No, but I'd love to! What is your favorite holiday? Christmas. Have you ever been ice skating? No. The blades on the skates scare me. Have you ever taken a karate class? No. Do you have any nieces or nephews? I have a lot, if you include my half-siblings' kids. Do you own an Xbox? Nah, I've always been a PlayStation gal. Would you date someone who’s well-known for cheating? Nope. Would you break up with someone your parents didn’t approve of? No. I'd consider their reasons, but ultimately, it's about me loving the person. Could you be in a relationship without sex? Yeah, sure. It's not ideal, but I mean if the other person is just very opposed, I'm certainly not forcing them. Emotional intimacy is more important to me, anyway. Have you ever been “friendzoned”? Yep. :') Briefly, anyway. Jason tried for my sake, but it was VERY short-lived by no one's fault but my own because all I know how to do is fuck shit up when it comes to him. Which “famous couple” is your favorite? LOOK Mark and Amy are FUCKIN GEMS Have you ever “destroyed” a relationship? Pretty fucking much. Are you the “dominant” or the “submissive” part in a relationship? I'm submissive by nature. Do you think Valentine’s Day is overrated? No, I think it's a cute holiday. Which do you feel is worse of the two to smoke: weed or tobacco? Well, weed has more carcinogens, but at least it has actual health benefits. Who did you last see that you haven’t seen in ages? *shrug* Are you photogenic at all? God no.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''necessary evil'' by motionless in white (ft. jonathan davis)

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twotiredsiblings · 3 years

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He made her cry...

SchnibbityMom Sherrie May 19, 2013 · Klamath Falls

He made her cry...again.

As a parent, you know you're not always going to make the best choices, but you hopefully try not to make the bad ones.She asked him to the Senior Banquet/Dinner. In the past, I'd have paid for him, then he usually (not always), would pay me back. But this time I demurred, when someone owes you thousands of dollars, you hesitate to put yourself on the hook for even a measly $15 more.

She decided if he asked to cover the cost, that she would and then he would (hopefully) pay her back. And yes, he asked her...she went and bought the tickets...she told him they were here...he had well over a month to send her the $$. He promised her he would.

One week went by, nothing. Two weeks went by, still nothing. She reminded him on a few of their frequent phone calls, (I've never denied him access, even driving both girls almost 100 miles to visit numerous times over the years, before they were able to drive)themselves. And whenever he called to talk to me about anything, when we were done, I'd always ask, "Do you want to talk to the girls?"

He comes into town & actually calls me, wants to come by to drop off a Mother's Day card for HIS Mom, (who I take care of). Because he is angry with me, he won't even come in the door, she over hears him calling me a bitch in conversation with his Mother. This is between he and I, they don't need to hear this crap. We have souvenirs that we purchased for him when we were on our vacation in March, plus, when he left so abruptly then, he left meds and cords & etc, that have been sitting here. Because he was mad, he wouldn't come get them, so they sat. He actually told me to send them to him. Um...no. The $15?? Not there again.

She needed info from the VA for college, since he's considered disabled, the VA will help with both girls college tuition. She's been talking to him almost daily about it, he has helped her with the info, she's again requested the money for the ticket. "I'll send it tomorrow, along with the paperwork you need."

Tomorrow comes and she calls me from school, in the middle of the day. Not usual. She got called to the office, there was something for her. Turns out, he dropped off the paperwork she needed, brought it 92 miles into town to give to her, driving his nice Corvette. (The same Corvette that he damaged 6 weeks ago, and within 2 days, took into the body shop to be repaired. Somehow he was able to cover the deductible--oh that's right, he didn't send our money this month again.) He has Dr's appointments in town, makes sense he'd drop it off, we'll give him the benefit of the doubt. The $15?? Not included.

She talks to him later that day and for the next several days on the VA info, she again requests the $15, "I'll send it tomorrow." "Mom, what should I do, he keeps telling me, and it never shows up?" I tell her it's best to just wait a bit longer, keep giving him the benefit of the doubt. Why? I don't know... I spent close to 30 years giving him that benefit. It's a hard habit to break. She knows that he & I are having issues, but I tell her that is between the two of us. It does not involve her and her sister.

She wants to ask someone else, I suggest she wait. Of course, that's what we've been doing all along, waiting. And waiting, and waiting some more.It's been over a month, she's finally decided she's going to tell him she's asking someone else, but she's worried he'll be angry with her. I tell her, "No, he won't get mad, he's a grownup, and you've given him more than enough opportunities to send you the $$."

This is what I tell her, but what I know in my heart is, he'll be pissed, he'll say something awful, he'll make her cry. I'm sure he has no idea how many times he's made her cry, she tries so hard, she just wants him to not be angry at her. I tell her sometimes people get angry, if he does, over something so minor as this, then he's the one with the problem.

She finally bites the bullet and tells me she's going to call him and tell him she's asked someone else. She's hesitant, she's nervous, but she calls.It's worse than I expected. I hear a suspicious sound and come around the corner and she's standing there crying. "He got mad." "What did he say?" I ask her. She tells him she sent in the military paperwork, they chat about other things, then she tells him because he never sent in the $$ for the ticket, she's giving it to someone else. "So, basically, you sold my ticket?" "Yes, it's been over a month, you could've brought the money in with the paperwork, but you didn't.""I was broke," he says, yet that didn't stop him from buying new computer software, hardware, or going to Madras for the weekend to race his car, or any of the other races that he will be going to throughout the summer."

So you're going to let your Mother run your life for you? I see, you've made your decision...goodbye." Of course, now it's my fault, even though I had nothing to do with her decision. She couldn't stop crying, I've gotten very good at being used as a kleenex. Sad to say, but true, and any words of solace & comfort sounded completely hollow.

At 18, she is more of an adult and more mature than he'll ever be. I've tried so hard over the years to maintain an even keel between him and I, strictly for the girls sake. After all of the detritus that came after he divorced his older girls mother, I never wanted him to have that type of strained, angry, drama filled, tumultuous relationship with his younger girls. He continues to make it harder and harder for me to do this.

These are beautiful, talented, smart, loving and engaging young ladies who want a stable father figure in their lives, I think they deserve that much.

But he made her cry...again.

UPDATE---Wednesday May 19th. 2021

Hard to believe it's been 8 years since I posted this. I've been mostly off FB lately, just haven't felt the need, except to post birthday wishes and like a few posts.

The fact that this has become a (once again) thing, only different circumstances, makes me angrier than ever. The kiddos are older and, yes, wiser. They talk to him on a fairly regular basis, he won't answer my calls or texts; as a matter of fact, the only time he has in the last 6 months was after his daughter (my step-daughter) Cathy was hit and killed on NYE, and then again when Mom died.

After Cathy died, he came up and stayed with us (which he does whenever he comes up), we went to the funeral together, I was there to support him however I could. He was devastated to lose the 2nd of his three older daughters and I was there for him. After Mom passed, he expressed his condolences, but never came up for the memorial, even though Mom always considered him a son, even after our divorce.

The fact that he owes literally thousands in alimony and I can't attach any of it because he's considered disabled, he's a veteran and he's on SS. I drove down to Lakeview twice in 2019 when he was lost in the Lake County desert and almost died and each time I stayed in a hotel and never asked him for a penny. And believe me when I say, it really isn't about the money. If he just followed through and kept his word, it would mean a world of difference. In trying to be a good human and help family, I think I've been more than gracious over the years.

But, this post, from 8 years ago, this...has me throwing up my hands in defeat. When I remember just this one incident of many and see how he's continued on with his selfish ways to this day, it used to make me cry. No more. I'm tired of his conceited, narcissistic, childish behavior.

I know I'm not perfect...far from it. But I just can't. Not anymore. I'm done.

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domesticated-feral · 4 years

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The Camp Experience | JPAW 2020

For Jordan Parrish Appreciation Week 2020 @jordanparrishappreciation Rating: Teen and Up WC: 5,224 words Warning: Internalized Homophobia, Internal Religious Conflict.

Summary: Jordan’s first summer camp, and the camp that changed everything.

Read it on AO3

“Now, have fun alright? We’ll see you in a month, Jordan.”

“Bye mom, dad, I’ll send you letters.”

His parents waved to Jordan as he walked in, other kids were lining up and camp counselors were running like ants. Jordan walks closer to a camp counselor.

“Uhh, hi?”

“Hey there, kid, just got here right? Let’s get you set up,” she said, holding Jordan by the shoulder and guiding him to a crowd of kids.

“You over there, green cap, what’s your name?” another camp counselor points at Jordan.

“Jordan Parrish.”

“Okie Dokie,” he checks the list, “yeah, you’re in this cabin.”

Jordan nods and he pushes through the crowd to get into the cabin. Inside, two other kids were there unpacking. Jordan walks to a bunk bed and puts his duffle bag on the bottom bunk.

“Uh, that’s my bunk,” someone on the other side said.

Jordan looked at him, he looked the same age but was slightly taller than him. Jordan looked down at his duffel bag, he had been staring at them for more than he should’ve.

“Oh, uh, my bad,” Jordan took his duffle bag and turned around, dropping it back on a hopefully empty bed.

“Do you need help? Unpacking?” The other asked from behind him.

Jordan looks over his shoulder, nodding, “yeah, that would be very… helpful.”

They come over and help Jordan unpack, putting his clothes in the drawers under the bed and keeping him company mainly.

“I’m Derek by the way, and you are?”

“Jordan, nice to meet you, Derek.”

A camp counselor walks in and whistles with his whistle, “alright, lunch is in 15 minutes, so y’all can roam around here, don’t go too far though,” he turns around to walk back out but then stops, “and use the buddy system.”

Everyone walks out of the cabin, and Jordan walks over to Derek.

“Buddies?”

“Sure, wanna head to the lakeside?”

“Do you know the way there?”

“Yeah, I come to this camp every summer, the third year in a row now.”

“Oh, wow, you must really like camping.”

“No, I just come here cause then I don’t have to get annoyed by my uncle who’s a few years older than me.”

“Well, my mom and dad thought it’d be good for me, like remind me of home since I miss Iowa once I moved over here to California.”

“Oh, well, did Iowa have camps like this?”

“We had summer work on farms, I went to one once, I didn’t go back after I got lost in a cornfield.”

“Scaredy-cat.”

“I was 9 then!”

“How old are you now?”

“16, you?”

“I’m 17 and I was not expecting you to say 16, you look younger than that.”

Jordan laughs, “I get that a lot.”

“Anyways, this is the lakeside, we’ll probably go swimming later today, it’s pretty much always the first thing they let us do.”

“I look forward to it, I remember swimming in creeks in hot Iowa summers.”

Derek picks up a smooth pebble from the ground and throws it, skipping 2 times on the surface of the lake before plopping down under the surface. Jordan picks a pebble up and tries to skip it as well, miserably failing as it sank to the surface.

“I never know how to skip rocks.”

“Here, I’ll teach you, use this rock and hold it like this,” Derek holds an oblong smooth pebble with his thumb and index finger, he hands it to Jordan who holds it, “and stands like this, not facing toward the water.”

Jordan stands like how Derek was standing but he hears Derek tut before walking closer, he moves Jordan to the correct position and holds his hand, the warm touch making Jordan’s mind flooded with a lot of feelings and thoughts.

“And throw it just like this,” Derek’s hands guided Jordan’s, and the stone flew through the air and skipped thrice on the water before sinking in the fourth.

“Just like that?”

“Yeah, just like that.”

Jordan picks up a smooth pebble just like the one he had in his hand before and he tries, the rock skips twice and Jordan raises his arms in joy, turning to face Derek with a big grin on his face.

“I did it!”

Derek grins and nods, a whistle is blown, signaling lunch, “c’mon, it’s lunch.”

Derek runs to the mess hall, Jordan could barely keep up with Derek. In the mess hall, the camp counselors hand him a tray just like in school, pasta, apple slices, and french fries as well as a Capri sun.

Jordan goes over to sit with Derek, Jordan digs into his french fries first, then his pasta, apple slices, and then drinks his Capri sun. He looks up at Derek who has already finished his lunch in less than 10 minutes.

“Did you even have any lunch?”

“I was hungry, I only had a sandwich for breakfast cause I slept through my alarm.”

“Do we need to put this anywhere?”

“Yeah, we have to wash it ourselves, I was just waiting for you to finish.”

“I’m done now, let’s go.”

Derek gets up with his tray and Jordan does too, following Derek to an outdoor sink where they wash the trays and plates. Derek shows Jordan the place where the trays and plates are put to dry and they walk out to the main campground.

Derek talks to another camp counselor, joking around and catching up while Jordan looks around, he walks into a larger, open cabin, it has pictures old and new hung up on the walls, Jordan could hear chatter outside and a whistle blows, he jogs outside and joins the crowd.

A camp counselor, the same one who assigned bunks climbs on top of a fallen tree trunk.

“Alright, listen up everyone! Since all of you would probably be weary from the car trip here, this evening is about winding down and getting adjusted to the camp. The events are as follows, we’ll be going to take a dip at the lakeside, then once the sun starts to go down, it’s smores at the campfire and ice-breaking.”

Everyone nods and murmurs in agreement.

“Now, into the cabins, get changing, you don’t have to swim in the lake if you don’t want to.”

Jordan, Derek, and the four others sharing the cabin run in. Jordan changed into his swimming trunks and he was essentially ready. He turns around to see if Derek was ready and was taken aback by the muscle he had. He had to mentally slap himself to look away.

“Are you ready?” Derek asked, his eyes moving up and down Jordan’s body.

“Yeah, um, let’s go.” Jordan was totally losing his cool and he had exactly no reason to, other than the fact that Derek Hale was making him feel unexplainable emotions and thoughts.

Jordan follows Derek out to the lakeside, switching his sneakers for a pair of flip flops while Derek went barefoot.

At the lake, Derek dives in first, while Jordan wades in, stopping when the water reaches his waist. Derek was a good five or four feet away when he called Jordan to come over.

Jordan slowly walks closer to Derek, the water creeping up from his waist to his chest. Jordan began doggy paddling towards Derek which made Derek laugh.

“Don’t you know how to swim?”

“No, not really?” Jordan said, trying hard to keep himself up, splashing water at Derek as he does so.

“Just relax, trying too hard doesn’t help, straighten yourself and do kicks with your feet and swish your hands around like this,” Derek swayed his hands back and forth in the water in front of him.

Jordan’s head bops as he does so but he remains afloat. Derek splashes some water at Jordan's face before diving in. Jordan’s eyes follow the wavy silhouette as Derek swims under the crystal turquoise-colored water, Derek pops back above the surface a little far away.

“Show off.”

“Not impressed?”

Jordan nods, “Yup.”

“Well, this should then,” Derek said before swimming towards the dock, Jordan follows, taking another route to the dock, closer to the shore where he hoists himself up on the dock. Derek climbs up the dock as well and Jordan watches as Derek runs and dives in, not before making a flashy front flip.

Jordan waits at the edge for Derek to rise and he does a while later, his black hair stuck to his forehead. He raises an eyebrow to ask if Jordan was impressed now.

“A little,” Jordan said, he had to admit, the flip was cool.

Derek swims up to the dock, “just a little?”

“Ok, a lot,” Jordan said as he sat down near the dock end, cross-legged.

Derek grins, resting his arms on the dock, his eyes looking up at Parrish, the green color of his eyes glinting in the light of the evening sun.

“What?” Jordan asked, noticing how hard Derek was observing him.

“Your eyes, they are nice.”

Jordan could feel his face heat up with the compliment, “I could say the same about yours.”

Derek’s cheeks got dusted by a pink tinge of color as a small smile crept upon his face. Jordan bends down, pressing a small kiss on Derek’s lips, he didn’t know why he did it, but he followed his heart and kissed him. Derek made a small sound of surprise that felt like a bucket of cold water being thrown at Jordan who quickly pulled away.

“Oh god, I’m- I’m-” Jordan sputtered as he crawled backward, quickly standing up and running away, he heard Derek call out his name, but he kept running. From the dock, the lakeside, he ran to the cabin.

He leaned against the door, his chest rising and falling as he panted. Water dripped down from him, soaking into the wood-planked floor. He couldn’t tell if it was tears going down his face or just water.

He hears the wood boards creak as someone walks up to the door from the other side. They knocked twice and there was a moment of silence, Jordan could hear them take a breath.

“Jordan? Are you- Are you there?” Derek’s voice came from the other side, it was lower and soft than his usual confident, slightly arrogant tone.

Jordan sniffed, he was definitely crying.

“Jordan, open the door,” Derek said, slowly moving the doorknob from the other side, but he couldn’t open it since Jordan was leaning against it unless he pushed it open.

Jordan steps forward, to which Derek slowly opened the door. Jordan didn’t turn around as he wiped his face with his hands, rubbing the water, tears, and snot onto his hands.

“Are you okay?” Derek’s voice was laced with uncertainty, he didn’t know how to handle this situation either Jordan guesses.

“No, I’m not,” Jordan choked out, he went over to his bunk and sat down, he couldn’t care if he made it wet or not.

“You don’t have to be sorry for the kiss, it’s fine, actually I liked the kiss.”

“It’s not about you, it’s me. I liked it too and I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t like boys.”

Derek didn’t say anything, he froze where he stood while Jordan buried his head in his hands.

“It’s wrong.”

“Jordan, don’t say that it’s- it’s not wrong to love.”

“It is if it’s the same gender. It’s a sin.”

“It’s not,” Derek placed a hand on Jordan’s shoulder from behind.

“Stay away for me,” Jordan urged, as he moved away from Derek’s hand.

“Jor-”

“No, I just- I just need some space,” Jordan got up again, his mind ran a million miles, mostly going over the words ‘sin’, ‘wrong’, and ‘bad’. He begins walking towards the cabin door, brushing past Derek when Derek stops him, holding him by the wrist.

“Let me go.”

Derek opens his mouth to say something but he closes it, he slowly lets go of Jordan’s wrist.

“Don’t go,” Derek muttered as Jordan walked out the door.

Jordan didn’t know how to react, he only had one other situation like this when he kissed a boy in a theatre bathroom in Iowa. He ran home, and he never went to the theatre ever again.

He couldn’t run home here. His home was the cabin that he shared with Derek. So he walked into the woods, it was darker since the sun was setting but he couldn’t think about that right now.

He walks further into the forest, before turning around. He was deep in the forest, the light of the campground far away but still visible.

He looks up at the sky, the trees, and possibly at Him.

“Why did you punish me this way? What did I do to deserve this?” He whispered.

He asked those questions a lot. On Sundays, before bed, every single second of his life after he found out, it wallowed in the back of his mind. He just needed an answer but nothing came except cricket chirps and the rustling of leaves in the wind.

“Answer me!” he said, tears pooling in his eyes, “WHY AM I LIKE THIS?”

He fell to his knees, hanging his head low and closing his eyes.

“It’s because it’s who you are.” A soft murmur, he could recognize, came from behind him, “you can’t change who you are.”

“Why? Why do I have to be born a sinner? Why do I have to be born with a disease?”

“It’s not a sin, it’s not a disease, loving someone is not any of those things.”

“It is, Derek. It is.”

“People might have said that, but it’s not. Jordan, love is love, you can’t change what your heart wants.”

“Then love can be damned,” he choked out with sobs, he hated himself for liking boys, he hated that it was going to be a part of him forever.

“Jordan, I only met you today but, you don’t need to beat yourself up because you like boys. You deserve love, and the love you need the most is the love from within you. It’s hard because everyone around you says that it’s a sin, but it’s not.”

“How do you know that it’s not?”

“How do you know that it is?” Derek asked.

That question left Jordan speechless, he didn’t know if he did. He knew it was a sin just because the church priest said so, quoting verses and shouting into the microphone that it was a sin. His ear is filled with the words, ‘sin’, ‘wrong’, and ‘bad’ at almost every church session that they talked about homosexuality in.

“My family is quite religious too, but my mother taught us that He loves love and everyone. He knows no difference from one another like we’re all equals.”

Jordan didn’t say anything, he slowly turned himself, Derek stood behind, he was still in his swim shorts, well so was Jordan.

The sun had gone down, the sky going darker by the second, the forest green turning to a dark, closer to black shade.

“You shouldn’t hate yourself, because I know you don’t deserve it. I like you Jordan and I know you won- can’t say it back yet, but I know you like me too.”

He nods, part of him inside him, denying his schoolboy crush for Derek while part of him was dying to throw himself into Derek’s arms. It was deeply conflicting and all he could do was just stay there, kneeling on the forest floor.

A whistle sounds, and Derek’s head jerks towards camp.

“They’re looking for us, we should go back.”

Jordan sniffs, nodding as he tries to dry his face with his hands. He stood up, his knees were dirty, and wobbled from keeping him up for that long, it reminded him of times when he’d kneel by his bed and pray so hard after the theatre incident that his knees would be red and numb.

Derek keeps a safe distance between them both as they walk back to the camp. Two counselors ran to them as they emerged from the trees and shrubbery.

“Where did you both go?”

“Derek, you know very well the camp rules say not to go out of campgrounds near sunset.”

“Are you alright? You look ill, kiddo?”

“I’m fine, but, erm- Jordan needs some time to himself.”

“Ok, alright, Jordan, come walk with me, you can take a shower in the counselor cabins. The bathrooms are bigger there.”

Jordan nods and he walks with the counselor.

“What the hell did you do this time, Derek?”

“Nothing, it wasn’t me. I swear, sis.”

“Then what happened?”

“He’s um, he has a crush on me and you could guess the rest because I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Oh, it’s that sorta thing, right?”

“Yeah, I feel bad for him, I like him, and he, the same.”

“I just wish it was easy for them to accept it like it was easy for them to deny it.”

“It’s hard and when I was talking to him, I could sense the deep hatred, it was different though, it didn’t have that smell. It smells different.”

“Yeah, it’s because the hate is towards themselves. It’s stronger and deeper.”

“I just wish people didn’t hate themselves so much,” Derek felt pain bubble inside him, it pained him to see so many people like that, like how he was.

Laura hugs him, shushing him softly, “me too, Derek. Me too.”

Derek hugged his sister back, he felt like he could cry, his eyes were stinging but no tears sprung up. He could tell that Laura was taking pain from him as a sense of relief came after Laura’s hug.

“Thanks, I- I needed that.”

“Jordan does too, but give him some space for some while, that’s physically only. I want you to be there for him, mentally and even though it’s going to be hard for you, you need to be emotionally available as well. Speak from your heart. Like you would with mom.”

“I’ll try,” Derek promised, he had a hard time emotionally opening himself, usually hiding behind a confident and arrogant self to stray away from emotional topics, but he had a feeling this would be a month of stepping out his shell and helping Jordan do that too.

Hopefully.

Derek slumps back into the bunk, he had to change before the starting bonfire began. He took a quick shower, just washing dirt and sweat off his skin and hair. He wears a comfortable shirt and jeans, wearing a hoodie jacket over it, knowing how cold some summer nights can be.

He sits down at the bonfire, across from Jordan who sits across, his face illuminated by the flames.

The counselor begins the night, introducing themselves and other counselors as well, going over the ground rules and codewords that can be used in an emergency. Then they passed around the conch shell that’s been used for years to each kid, for them to introduce themselves. When the conch shell was handed to Jordan is when Derek perked up, finely tuning into what Jordan was going to say.

“Hi, my name is Jordan, and um, this is my first time here.”

Derek was hoping he’d say a bit more, but after what happened tonight, he wasn’t expecting it, he wasn’t expecting Jordan to join the bonfire either.

After everyone introduces themselves, it was half an hour of chatting and relaxing before dinner. Derek slowly makes his way over to Jordan, sitting next to him on the log.

“Hey, um, if you need anyone to talk to, about anything. Just know, I’m here for you. Always, even in the middle of the night, wake me up and I’ll listen.”

“Thanks, that’s um, very kind of you... Derek,” Jordan tapped his fingers on the water bottle he was holding, “I’m sorry, to have kissed you. You’re probably not into me or boys at all and this was all just a big-”

Derek cut him off, “Jordan, there’s no need to apologize because I am, actually into you.”

“Wait, really?”

“I mean, I would’ve probably kissed you.”

“Oh.”

Both Jordan and Derek stare at the flames. Jordan’s light taps on the water bottle were echoing in Derek’s ears.

“Are your…” Derek said after a while, Jordan looks back at Derek, “Are your parents homophobic?”

“No, they’re not. Even though they aren’t, I can’t stop thinking about how it’s wrong. I know it isn’t, but I don’t know. I just feel like a horrible person, like I would belong in hell.”

“I know, I was like that, before and a little while after I came out. I know what you’re going through, I know how hard it is but you got me, and all the counselors here. Jordan, you are not a horrible person, you do not belong in hell.”

“Thank you, Derek. Thank you,” Jordan’s small smile brought flutters in Derek’s heart.

Derek walks away, and Jordan watches him disappear through the crowd. The fire seemed to die down and he walked back to the cabin. Derek was sitting on his bed, writing on a book while the others were asleep.

Jordan changes into his sleep shorts and lies down on his bed. He tried sleeping but the light from Derek’s lamp was bright and unintentionally pointed in a way that it was shining at him.

“What are you doing?”

“Writing a letter to my mom.”

“Momma’s boy, huh?”

“Well, I love my mom a lot. She’s been here for me all my life, in a different way that is indescribable.”

“My mom has been with me most of my life, both of them were in the military, my dad spending deployment in other countries and cities, my mom is a recruiter, working in boot camps and stuff. My grandparents took care of me when they both weren’t home.”

“Huh, would you work in the military like them?”

“Yeah, I want to. It’s something I’ve always wanted to, be in the army that is,” Jordan lied down on his side, looking at Derek.

Derek nods, softly humming in response. He closes the book and turns the light off, putting them in the drawer under the bed. He lies down, facing Jordan, his face illuminated by the moonlight streaking in from the window.

Jordan shuffles in bed for a while, he didn’t feel sleepy, even though he’d love to sleep today off.

“Can’t sleep?” Derek mumbled.

“Yeah,” Jordan sighed, “usually I would sleep with my dog, Moose, but he’s not here.”

“Is moose like one of those big dogs?”

“He’s a Newfoundland dog.”

“Oh, those are big, right?”

“Yeah, he takes up half the bed,” Jordan laughs softly, “and he grew up with me, he was there for me when my mom and dad were out on work.”

“You must miss Moose when you’ll be spending the month here.”

“Yeah, I already am.”

“Wait here,” Derek said as he crawled out of bed, Jordan watched him slowly walk out of the cabin without any context or space for Jordan to ask questions.

Derek pokes his head in a while later, “come out here since we can’t let him in the cabins.”

Jordan climbs out of his bed, curious as to what Derek was referring to. He walks out to the small porch area to find Derek and a counselor, she was holding a leash of a dalmatian dog.

“Meet Georgie, the camp’s emotional dog,” Derek said as the counselor took the leash off for which the dog trotted up to Jordan.

Jordan bent down and hugged Georgie, it licked Jordan on the cheeks and Jordan laughed at the tickly sensation.

He pets the dalmatian fondly as he sits down on the porch, the dalmatian wags its tail while it sniffs Jordan. Derek leans against a wooden beam while he watches Jordan.

“Can I sleep with him?”

The counselor shakes her head, “sorry kid, camp rules. Plus we don't know if some kids in there are allergic to pet dander.”

“Aw, well, ok,” Jordan said before going back to give Georgie a plethora of kisses.

“Bring him to the main cabin once you’re done with him, alright?”

“Yeah, sure sis.”

The counselor walks away, Jordan assumes she went to the main cabin, “Is she your sister?”

Derek nods, “A few years older than me.”

“Oh, just her?”

“I have one more sister, younger than me. You?”

“Me? I’m just alone, I don’t think my parents planned for more.”

“It must feel lonely a lot of times.”

“It’s outweighed by the amount of attention I get when my parents are home. Like a lot that it’s overbearing a lot.”

“Well, that says that they love you a lot.”

“Yeah,” Jordan leaned against the wooden wall as Derek sat on the fence, keeping his balance.

They sit in silence, Jordan softly petting the dalmatian as he listens to the forest ambiance, staring at Derek. Derek had his eyes focused on the lakeside, peeking through the trees. He doesn’t notice when Jordan stands up, coming closer to him.

“It’s alright if I sit here right?”

Derek jerks and he loses his balance, Jordan holds his hands and catches Derek before he falls backward. Jordan pulled him forward and Derek’s face was millimeters away. They stayed like that for a while before Derek moved back.

“Yeah, yeah, you can sit here,” Derek said, moving to the side to give Jordan some space to sit on the fence.

Jordan jumps up and sits next to Derek on the fence. He stares at the lake, the moonlight’s reflection softly waving on the lake. Jordan yawns, his body was sleepy but his mind didn’t want to go to sleep. He was going to try anyway.

“Should I walk Georgie back to the main cabin?”

“I can do it, you can go to sleep.”

“Ok, night, Derek.”

Derek jumped down and motioned Georgie to stand up, the dog followed him side by side as if it was his own.

Jordan walks back into the room and climbs in bed, his eyes feeling dreary as he looks at the ceiling.

The camp goes on, different activities every day, Derek often stuck by his side, talking to him until Jordan fell asleep, as the end of camp neared, he felt like a new person almost. He learned to accept himself, he learned to love himself, and more importantly, Derek walked with him through all of it.

It was the last bonfire of the camp, everyone was feeling bittersweet, talking about their favorite times, and all Jordan could think about was how much he was going to miss Derek.

He wasn’t going to lie, he was glad he was going to go home tomorrow but he also didn’t want to say goodbye to Derek forever.

That night, he lay awake, waiting for Derek to finish writing in his journal, he wrote on it every night.

“You know what I’m going to miss most?” Derek asked, turning the lamp off.

“What?”

“Talking to you.”

“Yeah, I’m going to miss this too.”

The next day, everyone was hugging and saying goodbye, Jordan could see his parent’s car roll up and he stood up, slinging his duffle bag over his shoulder.

“Parents here?”

“Yeah, thanks Derek, for everything. I’ll miss you,” Jordan hugs Derek, tightly.

“Bye Jordan, we’ll meet again, probably.”

“Bye Derek,” Jordan slowly moved away from the hug, staring at Derek’s eyes once more before turning to walk to his parents who were waiting in front of their car.

His father helps him put the bags in the trunk and he gets in the back, he sees Derek wave at him as the car rolls away.

***

9 years later

Jordan was a deputy at Beacon Hills Sheriff’s Station and he was called on a trespasser at an old broken down site.

As he and Deputy Haigh drive up to the site, he sees a boy sitting there near the ruins of a burnt-down house. He looked familiar, Jordan couldn’t pinpoint why.

“Hey, kid, ever heard of trespassing?

“Really Haigh? Are you okay, kid?”

“Where are my parents? Where is my family?” The boy turned around and Jordan couldn’t understand why someone who looked like Derek was in front of a burnt down house.

“You’re trespassing, kid, on government property.”

“Haigh, stand down. We can help you find your family.”

“What happened to my house?”

"This isn't your house kid, no one's lived here in 7 years."

High surges towards the boy and he twists Haigh's hand around and before Jordan could do anything, Haigh tased the boy.

"Haigh, what the hell?!"

"That runt assaulted me."

"Yeah, because you lunged at him."

"Shut up, Parrish."

"We gotta take the kid to the station."

At the station, Jordan crouches down in front of the boy to ask a few questions.

"So, what's your name?"

"Derek Hale."

'Derek Hale? It can't be, how could he look younger than he did?'

Jordan nods and walks away, he needs to find the sheriff.

"So, you're telling me that that's Derek Hale?" the sheriff asked.

"Yeah, he claims he is."

The sheriff was as confused as he was, Jordan didn't even have a grasp of sanity and he barely was in a month working in the station.

The sheriff takes the case for here and he never heard of the boy again, that was until someone unfamiliar showed up while he was working reception.

"Hi, um, Jordan?"

"Yes, do I know you?"

"I'm, Derek. From the camp, remember?"

"Wait, you're Derek Derek?!"

Derek nods, "yeah."

"God, I was so confused when you were shifted back to child form by what the sheriff only told was by a tomb in a church in an abandoned town in Mexico," Jordan said in one breath, "I can't believe I'm seeing you, after a long time."

Seeing Derek again, reignited the small spark inside, the same schoolboy crush Jordan had on him.

"So, how are you doing?"

"Better, I mean, not much in the love department, but I'm pretty comfortable and so much better in my own skin than I was 9 years ago."

"And you still have a crush on me."

"Yeah, oh and new news, I'm apparently a Hellhound? I was possessed by one while I was serving time in Afghanistan as an I.E.D."

Derek was surprised, "you stuck to your thing, of joining the army."

"I did… And, you are here right now because?"

"I know our meeting each other together after a long time was not the best, but I'm here to ask if you'd like to hang out, or go out for a coffee?"

"Like a date?"

"Yeah, like a date."

"Sure, how about this evening, I'm free for some coffee."

"Ok, I'll need your number," Jordan handed his phone to Derek, to which he saved his number.

"Great, I'll call you once I'm off work."

Derek smiles, his smile was still the same smile he remembered it to be, "see you later, Jordan."

Jordan smiles, he could barely contain his excitement and happiness as he paced behind the reception counter after Derek walked out.

"Deputy, you alright?" The sheriff asks as he walks in from his lunch break.

"Better than ever."

Sheriff chuckles, before walking into his office.

#JPAW2020 #jordan parrish #derek hale #myfic

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ghostlyb1tch · 4 years

Text

Charlie Gillespie x Among Us

okay so this is isn’t a fan fic even thought the title makes it seem that way ahaha. this is actually just writing out the dream i had last night. but i suggest reading it, it’s honestly wicked cool. also title credits to @xplrreylo

warnings: mentions of death, death, fighting. weapons, and i think that’s it, also a little fluff but not much.

also sorry aboht the spacing of the story, since i wrote this in my notes and am copying it from there and pasting it here the spacing is gonna get a little messed up. thanks for understand <3

it starts out with me at my aunt jill’s house. i was sitting on her sofa and then she starts telling the family something SUPER embarrassing about me. so before any of the family members can come confront me i grab my coat and sneakers and i run out of the house. it’s the middle of the night, in the dead of winter, in the middle of the woods. i was walking around when i found this bridge in front of a frozen lake so i sat on it. i should’ve been freezing but i just for some reason wasn’t cold. but i sat there for what felt like ages. when a mysterious black shadow approaches me. but instead of being scared i walked right up to it. it was a small blue car, and inside was my other aunt, kelsey. “what are you doing outside, get in!” she said and she opened the passenger door for me to hop in. we drove back to my house, and she began packing up her room. she was moving after all. it was (somehow) now probably beginning of summer. it was a nice temperature. not too hot, not cold, no wind, and no clouds.

i was walking around in my backyard when i came across a group of kids and they were playing a game. “hey! you should play too!” the girl with the brown hair suggested to me. they seemed seriously sus but i didn’t wanna be rude. so i accepted their offer. they then spun a bottle and it landed on this boy. he looked like he was about 25. was not wearing a shirt, and was EXTREMELY ripped. I was then handed a paper with different tasks on it. The brown haired girl spoke again, “the way the game works is you need to complete all those tasks without Max”(the boy without a shirt)”being able to find you, because if he does-“ Max interrupted only to say, “I’ll kill you.” I laughed assuming it was a joke. But my smile soon faded when Max pulled out a knife. i gulped and ran for my life. I could practically feel my heart beating out of my chest.”If you finish all your tasks and show us than you win and you live.” With that information I ran for my house, and when i was approaching the wide open door i noticed a tall boy with brown curly hair, he looked like he was waiting for something or someone. after a second of trying to see who he was i came to the realization that with the amount of adrenaline and momentum I had in my body, I wasn’t going to be able to stop. i yelled and tried to get him to move but it was too late. I ran through the door and immediately hit the floor with a bang. Well, I didn’t hit the floor. My fall was cushioned by the boy I had seen whilst I ran in. I sat there on top of him and I didn’t get up for a moment. I stared at him focusing on each feature of his face. He had hazel eyes and his nose was incredibly small. He had a freckle on his nose and a couple more near his jawline. His eyebrows were slightly bushy but were properly tamed and they shape was straight.After probably a minute of admiring him I had realized that I zoned out and was still just completely on top of him but I had also remembered that if I had tasks to do that if I was seen by Max i’d be killed. I quickly got up, helped up the boy, apologized and left. I looked back as I ran because i didn’t want to leave. His eyes met mine before i quickly turned my head and began on my first task. I ran up to the the rooftop balcony of my second highest floor of my house. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for up there but I guess I found it because the next thing I know i’m about to start looking for my last few tasks when my dad stopped by and gave me a pair of sunglasses. i wore them for a bit then put them in his car. he left and then came back and yelled at me because they were broken and then said i should take better care. i apologized and he left.

i was going to start completing the last 4 tasks when the boy i had practically tackled in my kitchen had came over to me and started speaking to me. “Hey! Remember me? I’m the one you tackled in your kitchen! ”

“Yea,Yea, Hi! I am so so sorry about that but i really really need to go.” I didn’t want to leave he sure was attractive but if I didn’t finish these last couple tasks i’d be done for.

“Well I’m Charlie, and where are you going? Maybe I can come?”

“Fun, I’m Dakota and that could be nice but I’m in some seriouslt dangerous stuff and I’d hate to get you involved.”

He fixated his eyes directly onto mine and said “First of all, I know who you are. Second of all, I’m coming. And there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“That sounded like a demand.” I said with a smirk. Not even questioning the fact that he knew who I was.

“That’s because it is.”

I honestly laughed. It was incredibly attractive the way he just said that and how else are you supposed to respond when people do attractive things.

“Okay then but if you die you can’t blame me.” I told him.

“Alright. My fault if i die.”

Hopefully it doesn’t come to that. I thought as we began walking.

“So what exactly are we doing?”

“Oh yea. so basically we need to complete this list of tasks-“ i handed him the list. “and once we complete it we go to this group of people and we win. I already finished six of them so now we only have to complete four.” I explained.

“So how is it dangerous?” his eye brows furrowed with confusion.

“Well if we get caught by this guy, Max, while we’re competing these tasks he’s gonna try to kill us.”

He gulped. “okay then let’s finish these tasks.”

We finished the first 3 rather quickly. I mainly did the doing while he kept watch for Max. But the last task was rather difficult, I couldn’t compete it on my own so I asked Charlie to come help.

“Charlie, I need your help quick. I can’t lift this crate on my own.”

“coming.” He ran over and lifted the box so I could crawl underneath. My heart dropped as i heard a gunshot followed by a laugh. “CHARLIE!” i screamed.

“DAKOTA STAY WHERE YOU ARE DON’T COME OUT!” he sounded out of breath.

With a sudden bolt of adrenaline I pushed the box out of my way and crawled back to where I was before. I stood up with Charlie by my side and Max directly in front of me.

“Hey princess. I missed you.” the shirtless man before me said with a smile.

I began to open my mouth when i heard Charlie “princess?” He was interrupted by Max then saying “Look you’ve found you’re self a little boyfriend. Tragic that he’s gonna have to die too.” He then lifted his arm to throw his knife at Charlie when I lunged forward and attacked him. I grabbed his gun from his belt. I went to throw it to Charlie when I felt a sharp heavy object slice across my left cheekbone, which was followed by a hard uppercut leaving my lip and nose bleeding. Along with the blood still dripping from my cheek.I let out a loud cry and dropped the gun only a few feet from me. Charlie finished the last task snd ran over, ripped me away from Max and began fighting him with his fists. He got in a good couple licks but Max did better. Punched Charlie directly in his nose leaving it dripping with blood along with his lip. As I watch the fight go down I notice the black gun I had earlier dropped. I picked it up and fired. Both guys flew back in opposite directions. I wasn’t sure who I had hit. But when I looked to my right and saw blood trailing down the stomach of the shirtless man. I knew there was only one thing left to worry about, Charlie. I slid the gun into my belt and ran over to Charlie.

“Charlie. I am so so so sorry. I knew I shouldn’t have involved you I am so sorry.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and he grabbed my waist and held me close. “I’m okay. i’ve been in a fight before.” He let go of me and stood up. He grabbed the object we’d acquired from our final task. “now let’s go end this thing.” We ran to the middle of the backyard, covered head to to with bruises, dried blood, and honestly still some dripped blood. When the group of people I had scene before came out. “Great job. You win, and I’m pretty sure you killed Max.” the brunette from earlier stated.

“He was going to kill us there was no other choice!” I responded letting my temper take the best of me.

She laughed. “Well that’s the point. But nice playing with you!” she, and the rest of the group then disappeared into the woods. Charlie and I looked at each other. But no words came out. He cupped my cheeks into his hands and laid a passionate kiss on my lips. After what felt like ages he pulled away and rubbed his thumb over the cut from Max’s knife that stretched across my cheekbone. I wined. “Let’s get that fixed up.” he smiled.

#charlie gillespie #among us

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katedrakeohd · 4 years

Text

Nothing Like the Present (Part Two)

[Part 9 of A Very Valtorian Christmas ] (Masterlist)

TRH gang are still opening christmas presents...

Warnings: A little angst, mostly fluff.

..__________________________________..

Drake admires the amber color of the whiskey in the bottle that Nicholas gave him, wishing he could pour himself some but it's too early in the day.

Leaning against the sofa is a fishing rod that Drake received from Hana. Next to Drake, Kate is wearing a silver locket that he gifted to her. On her lap is a gift box containing red and black silky lingerie.

Kate had blushed when she opened it, while Maxwell had wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“Ooh, now you both have sexy jammies.”

Drake grumbles, “Next year I think we’ll open our gifts privately, after the guests leave.”

Hana smiles, “Oh but next year there will be baby presents to open too.”

Nicholas turns the pages on the leather-bound journal that Hana had given him. “I suppose in the Spring we’ll be throwing a baby shower.”

Maxwell gathers up the last few gifts and hands them out. Drake gets two envelopes, Kate gets an envelope and a large jar with a ribbon tied around the lid. She notices that both gifts are from Hana. In the jar are layers of ingredients, including marshmallows.

Kate smiles, “Let me guess, your famous hot chocolate recipe.”

Hana nods, “Of course, I know how much you like it.”

Kate lifts the tab on the envelope with a grin, “This is a pretty large set of instructions on how to prepare hot chocolate. What could this possibly be?”

Hana and Nicholas exchange a knowing glance, while Maxwell plays tug of war with one of the corgis on the floor. Drake sets his two envelopes aside, assuming they're Christmas cards, and watches Kate pull a folded document out of hers.

“What are these?” Kate asks as she flips through the pages.

Hana smiles, when realization dawns on Kate’s face.

“It's a copy of my Cordonian citizenship papers. Nicholas helped me make them official. Remember how my parents were pushing me to move back home when they came to visit during the lantern festival? Now I can live here permanently.”

Kate hugs her, “Oh Hana this is so wonderful. Now you can move in.”

Drake’s mouth drops open, “Wait what?”

Nicholas tries to explain as he can see the growing look of panic on Drake’s face.

“With the social season over, and where I’m no longer actively searching for a Queen to supply my heir, it would not be right for Hana to remain living at the Palace.”

Drake’s expression goes from panic to a frown, “So you’re just kicking her out? She’s your friend, and a Guardian of the Realm. Would it really be that scandalous to allow her to stay as your guest?”

Nicholas is surprised by Drake’s reaction, suddenly finding himself on the defensive. “Well...no, that's not what I meant. Kate invited her to live here, and once Hana finished her cultural studies to earn her citizenship, she told me she was eager to make her move. We weren’t quite sure how you’d feel about her moving in, considering your family is already growing.”

Everyone turns to look at Drake expectantly for his answer. He zeros in on Kate and her guilty expression as her eyes shift away, and then move back to him. The way Hana is holding Kate’s hand, and how they're leaning on each other causes an ache in the pit of Drake’s stomach. No dammit, I’m not giving in to selfish jealousy. I need to handle this like a mature adult.

Drake shrugs, giving Kate and Hana an uneasy smile. “Of course Hana can live here, she’s our friend, practically family.”

Kate breathes a sigh of relief, reaching out to touch his hand. “Thanks so much honey.”

Hana looks between Kate and Drake, trying to dispel the sudden awkwardness, “I don’t need to move in right away. I can wait until after the baby is born.”

Maxwell smiles, “Just in time to help out if you need it. I’m jealous of Auntie Hana already.”

Nicholas looks to his friend, and notices Drake’s jaw working, the clenching of his teeth setting his lips into a grim line. His hand keeps bunching and releasing the blanket on the couch next to him. When Drake catches the sympathetic look on the King’s face, he relaxes a little.

“So are we finished opening gifts now?” Drake asks hopefully.

Maxwell sees the two envelopes next to Drake on the sofa, “You haven't opened your christmas cards yet, might be something special in there.”

Hana opens up a package from Kate, revealing a silk scarf with an elegant jungle and tiger pattern, “Oh wow Kate, this is beautiful.”

Kate smiles, “I wanted to give you a scarf with a phoenix on it, as a welcome to Valtoria, but couldn't find one that was quite right.”

“No worries Kate, I love tigers. And the fiery colors are so pretty.”

Kate gives her a hug around the shoulders, grinning “I’m so glad you like it dear, plus now I can borrow it.”

Hana laughs as she holds the gift box out of Kate’s reach. “We’ll see.”

Drake tears into the first envelope, a photo of a green rowboat falls out of the Christmas card as he opens it, he turns it over to read the details written on the back, “What’s this?”

“Surprise!” Maxwell says, “Bertrand and I got you a boat. Hey you’ve finally got your own house on a lake, so we figured you could use a boat too.”

Drake smiles, “Thanks Max, I appreciate it.”

Maxwell looks off in the distance, holding his hands out to frame the view of the lake outside the window. “Picture it, rowing out onto the water with Kate and your little one, catching fish or just enjoying the quiet sounds of nature.”

Looking over at Kate, Drake could imagine it. He thought back to that night in Portavira when Kate had agreed to go fishing with him. He wondered how long it would be before they had the chance to do such a thing again. Maybe next summer Auntie Hana could babysit? Having her around might be a good thing after all.

Maxwell is still talking, “...I wanted to get you a bigger boat with a motor, but Bertrand insisted it wasn't in the budget. Then we haggled back and forth over wood or fiberglass, and the colour..”

Drake snaps out of his daydream of being on the lake with Kate on a sunny day, imagining her in a bathing suit.

“It's ok Max, this boat will do just fine. I see that it comes with it's own trailer, but I don't think the Manor’s SUV has a trailer hitch.” He shrugs, “But we’ll find a way to get the boat to the water.”

Maxwell and Kate share a knowing glance, and Kate encourages Drake to open the other envelope. “That Christmas card might help.”

Drake raises his eyebrow, mumbling as he opens the envelope, “I don’t see how, but ok…”

He pulls out a card that has a Papa bear sitting in an overstuffed chair with his bear cub in his lap, the juvenile text on the outside says “Have a Beary Merry Christmas Papa.”

Drake’s vision goes blurry as he tears up, and his breath catches in his throat. My first daddy Christmas card.

Maxwell covers his mouth with his hands, gasping with surprise, “Oh my God, Kate. We made Drake cry.”

Drake wipes his eye with the heel of his hand, trying to hide his embarrassment with a sniff and chuckle, “No..no you didn't. Besides, what do you mean we? I'm not your Daddy.”

“Open it, open it, open it!” Maxwell insists, bouncing with excitement.

Inside the Christmas card is a folded up vehicle listing from a local car dealership. When Drake unfolds the paper he sees that it has a picture of a blue pickup truck on it.

“You can't be serious?!” He exclaims, choking on the words, “You got me a truck?”

Kate nods, smiling and pointing out the truck's special features on the paper, “Yes, yes we did. Max helped me pick it out for you. It's a 2019 GMC Sierra, blue, with four doors, four wheel drive, heated seats, backup camera, V8 engine, trailer package, all the bells and whistles, everything a new Daddy could ever want in a vehicle, with plenty of room in the backseat for a child safety seat.”

Drake just stares at Kate, dumbstruck, his mouth hanging open. He'd never owned anything larger than a television in his life. And now he had his own truck.

As Kate goes on to describe the other vehicles that she and Max had looked at, and her conversation with the salesman, Drake tunes her out and just gazes at her with an expression of love and wonder. He was thinking about road trips with her sitting on the seat beside him and them both singing along to the music on the radio. He could already feel the excitement of having so much horsepower under his control and hear the hum of the tires on the pavement.

“…and he agreed to wave his commission and other fees if we do a promotional photo when we go in to sign the papers.”

Drake leans in to kiss her mouth to stop her from talking. When she giggles, he mumbles against her lips, punctuating each word with another kiss. “You're the best..wife..ever.”

Kate cups his face in her hands, loving his happy expression and his goofy grin, “So you don't mind posing for photos?”

Drake shakes his head, focusing on her lips, “..photos? What photos?”

“The guy at the dealership said that it would be a great way to boost sales if he could say that the Duke and Duchess bought one of his vehicles.”

“Ok sure, I’ll pose for photos. When do we go pick up the truck?”

“Monday.”

“Oh can I come along?” Max asks.

“No,” Drake answers.

Maxwell pouts, “But I helped pick it out. Kate wanted to get an SUV, but I convinced her that you'd rather have a big manly bruiser of a truck instead of a soccer Mom family car.”

Kate shrugs, “He’s not lying. I really had my heart set on the red Terrain instead.”

Drake sighs, “Ok fine, but you travel home with Preston in the SUV.”

..__________________________________..

tagging:

@jovialyouthmusic @sirbeepsalot @emceesynonymroll @emichelle @mskaneko @speedyoperarascalparty @dcbbw @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @pedudley @kingliam2019 @kimmiedoo5 @gardeningourmet @drakesensworld @mfackenthal @thequeenchoices @debramcg1106 @fluffy-marshmallow-heart @wickedgypsymoon @griselda1121 @indiacater @texaskitten30 @nikkis1983 @lynne1993 @bobasheebaby @drakesfiance @ravenpuff02 @moonlightgem7

..__________________________________..

#drake walker #drake x kate #a very valtorian christmas #long post #hana lee #maxwell beaumont

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danetobelieve · 4 years

Text

A Seal, A Mage and A Hunter Walk Into A Bar || Orion, Ricky and Winston

Winston hadn’t expected Rio’s message. They hadn’t expected them to be coming over and honestly they were somewhat concerned about the sudden change in the perspective that their new friend had. But they were glad that they had chosen to turn to Winston and they weren’t going to let them down. The thunder rumbling in the background was somewhat atmospheric, night must just be falling as darkness was enveloping the exterior of their house. Hearing the knock on the door, Winston turned back to Ricky doing their best to hurridly explain. “Rio messaged, I don’t have time to properly explain the very little that I do know, just be your usual gregarious and welcoming self and he’s underage so you can’t try and get him too drunk I don’t think he’ll appreciate the hangover tomorrow.” Winston turned to the door as they heard a second knock and dashed over, adjusting their glasses and smiling at Orion as they pulled the door open.

It was one of Ricky’s favorite kinds of weather; dark and stormy, and as Spring still hadn’t really managed to find their little corner of Maine, he’d lit a fire in the fireplace to really round out the whole atmosphere. He and Winston had just been relaxing, something playing on the tv in the background, most of his attention turned to the 3DS he’d bought himself to keep from dying of boredom as he recovered when several things happened in quick succession and his poor mind tried to keep up. There was a knock on the door and Winston suddenly started talking a thousand miles an hour, “One I resent the implication that I’m some sort of weird “get the kids drunk” guy and two what? What’s going on?” Gregarious and welcoming were Ricky’s standard MO and it wasn’t hard for him and he somewhat stiffly pushed himself off the couch and towards the door that Winston ran towards, smiling broadly as it was opened to reveal a very wet Orion. “Hey man. Welcome.”

Orion hadn’t had much time. He had left his family in the guest house and sprinted to his bedroom, quickly grabbing a duffel bag and trying to stuff clothes and some essentials into it before his parents made their way into the main house. He escaped out of the front door before he could hear his parents. They probably weren’t in any rush. It was clear they hadn’t wanted him there anyways. It wasn't until after he was out onto the street that he realized it had started raining. Usually he would have heard the rain, or smelled the moisture in the air, but his senses must have been off tonight. He shot a message over to Winston, confirming that the invitation they had extended was stil open. Winston and Ricky didn’t live far away, so he walked over slowly, giving Winston time to reply and letting the rain soak him along the way. It wasn’t until he got to the door that he became self conscious of the blonde hair. He hadn’t had blonde hair since his eighteenth birthday, and anyone he had met in the last few years would have never seen it. But he couldn’t exactly hide it right now. At least one good thing about the rain meant that it washed away any evidence that Rio had been crying. So he sighed and knocked on the door, smiling as normally as he could when the two answered. “Uh- hey there. Thanks for letting me stay over.”

Winston shot Ricky a warning look. The truth was that he knew little more then their friend. The second thing Winston did was raise and eyebrow at the Blonde hair. They were sure it was a better look when Rio wasn’t soaked to the bone by the torrential rain. Winston stepped back and let Rio into their home, leading them towards the kitchen. “Don’t worry at all you’re always welcome bro…” they looked them up and down for a moment, “no offence dude but you look very wet, I could’ve come and got you if I had known you needed me man…” they trailed off suddenly aware that it was hardly a useful suggestion now. “Do you want a hot drink or a towel or something?” Winston hoped that their things hadn’t gotten too gross in the rain, but they also wanted an explanation. There was plenty of time for that though and Winston didn’t want to push the matter.

It was one of the many gay-red-flags that Ricky knew when somebody who’d been conspicuously radio silent showed up with freshly dyed blonde hair. But Winston’s quick warning made him think this was anything but being upset over a boy. “Towels and tea.” he kept his smile wide and warm as he turned on his heel and made his way to the kitchen to put the kettle on and then to the closet to grab one of the spare towels down from it, “Do you have dry things? If you don’t between the two of us Winston and I can cobble together something dry and warm for you. We can throw your wet things in the dryer for you.” He offered the towel to Rio, shooting a confused and slightly worried look over to Winston, “Have you had dinner? I can whip you up something real quick. Something warm.”

For some reason, this wasn’t the first time that Orion had been around Ricky completely drenched and being offered a change of clothes. Though it didn’t make him any less nervous about it. At least this house offered more places to change than the workshop had. Orion could tell the glances at his hair. He didn’t blame them. It wasn’t like it had been professionally done. Just a sloppy quick bleach to appease his parents. The first chance he got he would be dying it back or shaving it off. Now that he was away from his parents the last thing he wanted was to continue looking like them. “I should be fine. Well as long as the duffel bag kept the rain out.” He shrugged, glancing down at the bag. Hopefully he could find something in the bag that was semi dry that he could change into. He went into the house but stayed hovering by the front door, accepting Ricky’s towel but not wanting to continue dripping across the house. He set his duffel bag down and began wiping off what he could, though there wasn’t much he could do for his clothes. The hoodie felt like it weighed an extra twenty pounds and clanged to him uncomfortably. He’d have to get into the safety of a bathroom before he could take it off. “Um yeah… just some tea or something would be great thanks. And uh- no food needed. I’m not hungry. Thanks though.” After what he saw, he wasn’t sure he would ever have an appetite again. “Sorry for the short notice. I just need a night or two to figure things out. I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”

As Ricky made tea, Winston grabbed some clothes which had been neatly folded and were sat waiting to go up to their rooms and directed Rio to the toilet downstairs so that he could get changed. “Can I get a coffee Ricky,” Winston was wondering if perhaps Rio needed some of the whiskey that Ricky loved so much but tea would do for now, or coffee if you weren’t planning to sleep which Winston wasn’t, they had too much left to do. They needed to research the squid lake demon, they needed to try not to obsess over Athena after last night and they needed to keep working on their project. It was getting close to the end now. “You didn’t interrupt anything,” Winston replied dismissively even though they were half way through dry running a sub routine that ran the graphics vectors for their project, but that could wait, Rio was more important, “and like I said you’re welcome here as long as you need or want to be here, we never managed to find a third room mate so there’s still space.”

“This close to bedtime?!” Ricky kept the shock in his voice light and jovial, an attempt to lighten what was becoming an oppressively dim atmosphere, “Fine, but I’m not reading you a bedtime story when you can’t sleep tonight. You’re on your own.” As Winston and Rio both disappeared he quickly ducked back towards the front door; keying in his passcode on the alarm so that it armed the mundane and magical systems Winston had been installing on the house. He didn’t know exactly what was happening, but people didn’t show up soaking wet with a duffle unless something was wrong, and this way they’d know if anyone turned down their drive. “Oh yes, my attempts to catch a Cutiefly for that bitch in the pokecenter were really eating up my evening.” He poured the coffee and the tea and brought them back into the living room, setting Rio’s by the chair closest to the fire, “You’re never interrupting, and like Winston said, “You’re welcome here whenever and however long you need. Our house is yours.”

Orion wasn’t surprised that Ricky and Winston were being this welcoming, but they were certainly emotional about it. But Orion kept his nerves at ease. The last thing either Ricky or Winston needed was for Rio to break down in front of the two of them. They deserved better than that. Plus, it wasn’t like Rio could exactly explain the situation to them. The truth wasn’t going to help anymore. It was too late for that. Instead, Rio silently accepted the clothes and went into the bathroom to get changed. After switching into drier clothes, he stared at himself in the mirror for a long time. His eyes were less noticeably red than they had been before, but that was because the rain had made his entire face red and puffy. Great. His blonde hair hung, wet and ratty in his face and he rifled through his bag until he found the one snapback he owned, some zoo hat that he had bought at a thrift store and put it on to push the hair from his eyes. He already felt better, being here instead of his home. He knew he’d have to go back eventually. He still had things there. Plus his phone. His car. Well… maybe he couldn’t keep the car anymore. It wasn’t his. Despite the relief, everything still weighed on his shoulders. He had so much to do, to worry about now. He was exhausted. But he would try to stress about that another night. He went back into the kitchen area, meeting the two back in there and trying again for that smile. “Yeah, of course. Thanks.” He didn’t want to impose on them. Not without a job or anyway to pay rent. But Winston spent enough time at the Scribe Headquarters now that he couldn’t exactly hide out there without Winston finding out. “Thanks for the tea.” He grabbed onto the cup to warm up his hands, blowing at the liquid to try to cool it off before taking his first sip. The tea stung when it touched his busted lip. He hadn’t even realized that it had been hurt until now. It had probably happened when Athena had punched him in the face earlier. Then again, he would have taken that over what had actually happened anyday. “So uh.. What are you both up to tonight?”

Looking Orion up and down, Winston reached out and topped up their cup of tea, hoping that it would prompt Orion to in turn spill their own tea but apparently that wasn’t to be and both Winston and Ricky were going to have to ask. Winston decided that as they were mostly responsible for this they were going to have to be the person who made the first step. “It was just a normal night, Ricky and I kinda do whatever the fuck we want usually, but obviously you coming over changed our plans a little, which I am not complaining about because it is much cooler to have a friend over then do something on my own…” Winston tried to think of the best and most sensitive way to phrase this, after deciding that their own addled brain apparently couldn’t quite manage that level of emotional sensitivity, Winston decided that ripping off the bandage might be a good idea. “Rio, what’s going on? You show up soaked? Is everything okay at home?”

Ricky made himself a mug of tea as well, stirring in some honey as he made his way gingerly back to his spot on the armchair, “Not shit. I’m still stuck in the house on practically bed rest so… it’s just me and Winston in front of the fire like some alternate universe Norman Rockwell painting.” He took a sip, watching Winston refill Rio’s mug and attempt gingerly to eke some sort of story out of him. “I’ve gotta side with my better domestic half over here. You know we love seeing you, and you’re welcome here anytime day or night, and for as long as you need to be, but this is honestly a little worrying. People don’t generally show up dripping wet at my door, as this is not a scene from The Notebook. I’m hotter than Ryan Gosling for starters.” It wasn’t going to go anywhere if the atmosphere turned intense or if it seemed like they were grilling him for answers. Ricky could at the very least help keep it light and pleasant.

Orion laughed nervously at Ricky’s joke, welcoming the humor dispersed through what was otherwise a pretty serious conversation. He supposed he couldn’t be surprised that the two were curious about Rio’s sudden appearance. He wasn’t exactly very subtle when he frantically messaged Winston and asked to crash for a couple of nights. If it hadn’t been so late Rio probably would have ran to the Scribe Headquarters, but their house was closer and he hadn’t exactly been in the right state of mind to think this far in advance. He didn’t want to lie. He was so sick of lying. But he couldn’t tell the whole truth either. Not without the obvious repercussions. More people would be in danger if they found out. It was better to keep the whole truth a secret. “We had a fight.” He sighed, settling on a vague version of the whole truth. “They want me to be something I’m not. And I can’t-” What was he going for here? He could tell them about him being a hunter. So what was he going for then? The idea came to him in a moment of deluded brilliance. Or maybe stupidity. The other thing that Rio would rather die than have his parent’s find out about. “I came out to them.” Guess he was lying again. “It didn’t go so well. Clearly. I couldn’t just stay there.”

Raising an eyebrow gently, Winston had to admit that they had known that Rio’s parents were that Christian then they might’ve been a little firmer in their offer. But Winston listened carefully at what their friend had to say before frowning gently and running their hand over the handle of their mug of very milky coffee. “Okay, that makes a tonne of sense,” Winston had to admit that this entire situation made them feel a little uneasy really, “you told them that you’re not …. Or that you are whatever and they took it badly?” Winston cast a critical eye over the bruising and cut up lip that Orion was sporting. “Rio, was it something more then just an argument? Did they hurt you? We can call the police if they touched you or you can just stay here….” they swallowed, worried that their friend might be in even deeper then before.

Ricky prided himself on his ability to always keep if not a pleasant face then at the very least a neutral face, but when Rio’s story slowly unspooled he felt his blood run ice cold and his eyebrows furrow into a frown. It reminded him of another fight, a long time ago, about something similar. “Well…” He took a sip of his tea to give himself a moment not to erupt in rage at Rio’s parents. “That is… profoundly upsetting to say the very least. I’m very sorry that happened. It’s not… that’s not a great argument to have. Winston’s right. Next steps are entirely up to you; I’d be more than happy to help you file a police report if you want or you can just stay here. But,” he could feel a shake in his hands and held his mug more tightly, “Let me make something super clear. You staying here has no time limit. As long as you need; no questions asked and nothing required in return. If you need to get stuff from your place one or both of us can go with you if you’d like. Or you can bring Dee. She’d be happy to. Ever seen an elderly woman threaten someone with a shotgun? It’s a fun time. But really. This house is your house too. We mean it.”

It was nice to have such supportive friends. And it would have been even nicer and felt more genuine if Orion had actually come out to his parents earlier that night. But who knows, the night could have gone even worse if everything had come to light. “No! No.” Rio could absolutely not go to the police. That was the worst case scenario. “They didn’t do this to me. I promise.” At least that was the truth. Sure, they were definitely involved. And they were absolutely to blame. But they hadn’t been the one to deck him in the face earlier that night. That had been his sister. Ironically, he blamed her the least for what had happened. He could see it, finally. Something in her that understood him. Maybe not entirely, and maybe she was too afraid to do anything about it as well. But she had even doubted their parents for a minute. That alone was enough to make Rio think there was still something there that was redeemable. “It’s- I think we all knew, y’know? It’s just never been said out loud before. I’ve always been different from them. Never quite fit in like they wanted me to. I think they thought I could still be saved or whatever.” Orion shrugged. He supposed it didn’t matter anymore. He was gone now. Hopefully for good. “Thank you, but I can go get it myself.” The last thing he needed was Ricky going over there. He was already 90% sure that he wasn’t human, and he didn’t need his family figuring that one out too. In fact, Rio didn’t want them to know where he was at all. He knew when they would all be out of the house. He knew all of their schedules by heart. He would just sneak in during the day. “I really appreciate you both. So now we can definitely talk about not me right?”

Swallowing gently, Winston listened once more and did their best not to roll their eyes at the story they were being told. But they weren’t ready to stop talking about their friend just yet. Winston also knew that Orion wasn’t entirely human, Skylar had told them about Orion being a hunter and Winston wasn’t about to judge them for it. Especially because they knew that Ricky was safe. But they didn’t know if they completely believed everything that was happening here. “If they didn’t do this then who did?” Winston wasn’t going to let anyone get away with hurting their friend, even if they had to call the cops themselves. “Listen, I’m so sorry you’re dealing with this, but maybe you should let one of us drive you to get your stuff later just so that you don’t have to haul it across to here on your own again,” and just so that they didn’t hurt Orion anymore, “we can wait in the car or something.” Swallowing once more, Winston glanced at Ricky and wanted to push the matter. “I think, that after that you’ve earned your privacy, so if you’d really rather talk about something else then of course we can, do you want a drink? Something … stronger then tea? I think you’ve earned it here…”

Taking a long sip of his drink Ricky shot a glance over at his housemate over the rim of his mug. As someone whose public identity and private life were a semi-complicated network of various lies and half-truths it was pretty apparent they were being told a version of the truth. “Like usual, Winston’s the smartest one in the house. I absolutely don’t think you should go alone. We’ll wait in the car, or Dee will. I was super serious about that. She’d do it in a heartbeat, with or without the shotgun. But… it’s not a good idea to do it alone.” Ricky didn’t share Winston’s belief that this conversation was over but, he also knew that pushing wouldn’t get them anywhere. This was a story that could only be fully told at Rio’s own pace. Wandering over to the sidebar he pulled out three rocks glasses and poured a decent slug of whiskey into each one, “Well. We’re not terribly exciting over here. I mean. I almost died a couple weeks ago but that’s already old news.”

While Orion appreciated how much Winston and Ricky seemed to care about his well being, their insistence on keeping him safe was really getting in the way of Rio’s ability to keep lying to them about tonight’s events, which he would rather slink away and sleep at the bottom of the lake than drag the two of them into. Lies or not, Rio knew it was best to keep them out of the Quinn affairs. He didn’t need anymore collateral damage. “My sister did it, actually.” he answered honestly, trying to disperse the truth throughout the lies to really weave the whole story together. “But uh- not because of the gay thing.” He didn’t know what made him defend her, but he wanted it to be clear that she hadn’t done it in some homophobic fit of rage. “We train together sometimes. Self defense.” Yeah, that was pretty much the truth. “She’s better than I am.” That was definitely the truth. “Fine, fine.” Rio admitted defeat and gave into Winston and Ricky’s demands. He wouldn’t go back alone, “But not tonight. I have plenty of stuff for a few days. I want to go during the day, when no one’s home.” Look at that, he could be honest about a few things. “Stronger than tea?” Rio questioned, confused. He didn’t drink coffee. Oh. Never mind. “Oh! Thanks. I don’t really drink. But I appreciate the offer.” He had heard about Ricky’s accident, but hadn’t exactly had a chance to visit considering everything. He was glad to see that he was out of the hospital and back to mostly functioning, “How has the recovery been?”

“Your sister?” Winston asked with a deep frown before pausing an sighing. “Well, that’s pretty fucked up, I didn’t know that you had your sister and I guess we can only deal with this in the way that you want, but you know, we’re here for you I guess, sorry, this is really new to me and I get that you guys train together but that seems a bit much…” Orion’s sister was clearly a hunter too and they were training together. “We don’t really know or do self defense,” Winston paused and frowned, “but maybe we should start, so if you …” they awkwardly fell silent and took a long breath. “No definitely not tonight, we can go back tomorrow or we can go back next week and I can take as much time to help you as you need or Ricky can or whatever,” Winston paused and nodded. Honestly at this point in time they were thinking that they might need the drink. “Sure, no problem….” they looked around at the room, waiting for Ricky to respond about the recovery.

Ricky split the contents of the third glass between the other two and offered one to Winston. “You know it’s like Winston’s in my head and saying everything I’m thinking. Because that is fucked up and I’m not the fuck about it. Thank you, though, for allowing us to go with you. I know I’ll feel better if you’re not going back there alone.” He slugged back the whiskey and set the empty glass down on the side table. “I mean. Speak for yourself. I can take care of myself. Self defense not required and if you make a comment about the car accident I’m gonna pull a shard of rib out of my chest and stab you with it.” He shrugged and sat back down in the chair, “Which brings us neatly around to the recovery thing. I”m over it. I’m super over it it’s so boring I might die from the boredom. They say the danger is infection… that’s bullshit. The danger is boredom.” He returned to his mug of tea, “But that’s about it. Moving on. We’ll clear out my random-ass art room and make it a bedroom for you tomorrow, but tonight we’ll have to set you up on the couch.”

“Yeah well, my sister’s a bit intense.” Orion shrugged. She had only done what she was forced to do. Not that he forgave it or understood it even, but he accepted it. He wasn’t ready to try to be friends with his sister or to rebuild bridges, but he didn’t hate her. Not entirely. “It’s not important, really. This bruise will clear up in no time. But no more self defense is fine with me. I’m not really much of a fighter anyways.” He wouldn’t miss the training sessions, not that he ever did much fighting back during them anyways. He listened as Ricky recounted his recovery story, or rather his recovery rant. Clearly he wasn’t a homebody, and he must have hated being trapped inside this place. “Can you at least go to the workshop?” He asked curiously. He wished he had some kind of craft that he could practice with the two of them in the workshop. But Rio wasn’t much of an artist, nor was he a computer genius. He wouldn’t have much expertise to add to the table. “Oh you don’t have to move your stuff out of the room. The couch is fine. Seriously. I just really appreciate you both.”

“A bit intense? Rio you have a split lip, I know you were sparring or training or whatever but that is a bit more then intense.” Winston replied with a tone of disdain to their voice. What kind of sibling did this to their own brother? The thought alone sent shudders down Winston’s spine. “Hey, self defense classes are fine, it’s the injuries that I’m concerned about, but yeah we can take a break and I am sure I can find you a sparring partner who won’t beat the shit out of you.” Winston wasn’t about to forgive whoever had done this to their friend. “Please do not say that, I’ve been begging Ricky to clean his shit out of that room for months, there’s so much goddamn clutter all the time and if you’re the reason that I get to avoid being on a program for hoarders then I won’t be complaining. Besides, the couch is only comfortable for one night.” Winston held their whiskey, not drinking it. They were lying of course. Ricky didn’t have a clutter problem and they hadn’t ever asked them to clear that room out. But Orion needed to feel like not a burden now and this was the only way Winston could think to do it.

Ricky watched silently as Rio and Winston talked about the incredibly transparent lie Rio was using to cover for his split lip. Whatever the actual story was, it was becoming incredibly apparent that he wasn’t going to share it with them… yet. If there was anything Ricky was good at it was being aggressively supportive and caring until people opened up; and a very nice pancake breakfast in the immediate future was going to be his first plan of attack. He tuned back into the conversation just in time for Winston to spin a ridiculous lie about the state of his studio, one he found himself narrowing his eyes over the top of his mug at Winston for, “It isn’t my fault that you don’t understand the complicated and incredibly personal way my art is organized. I think it really speaks volumes to the fact that you haven’t gotten to know me in the deepest parts of my soul that you think it’s messy. But Winston’s right about the couch. We’ll have a room made up for you tomorrow. Maybe take a little ikea road trip. Get some of those swedish meatballs and a bed with a name that has too many vowels.” He levered himself off the couch and started to gather the empty glasses, “Don’t worry about my recovery,” He gave Rio’s shoulder a gentle squeeze as he walked past, “Just worry about yours.”

Okay, so clearly they didn’t believe him. Orion was at least telling like 60% of the truth. 50/50 at the very least. But they seemed to be playing along for now at least. He figured they would come back to it eventually, but he seemed to be safe for now. “Okay. Got it. But no Ikea trip. I don’t have enough money yet. And you aren’t buying me anything. I have a sleeping bag that I can use until I can buy more stuff.” He did not want them paying for any of his stuff. He already had a free ride here as it was. At least until he could find a job and have some kind of income. They had already done way too much for Rio. “The only thing I need is a wifi password. If I have that I’ll be happy.” He sighed when Ricky dismissed Rio’s concern over Ricky’s health. “My recovery is a bit different… I didn’t break anything.” And if he had, it would heal within the week anyways.

Winston was glad that Ricky wasn’t pushing the split lip and that they had gone along with Winston’s incredibly transparent lie. Ricky was a neat freak and the idea that they could be a hoarder was beyond belief. But they knew that it made things somewhat better for Orion and they were happy that it made things a little easier. Laughing, Winston shook his head. “Rio you don’t get a choice about the IKEA trip, Ricky did the exact same thing to me when I moved in, I think he just likes an excuse to eat nothing but a plate of meatballs. But you can say no as much as you like, you’ll just wake up to a room full of flatpacked furniture or a you’ll find yourself on your way to IKEA without knowing about it.” Winston paused for a moment and nodded. “Of course, this is the wifi password and you should be able to connect to extenders throughout the house, there’s also a sound system you can connect your bluetooth too and you’re welcome to use the TV or the PS4 or any of the other stuff until we’ve got your stuff set up…” they shrugged. “Every wound is different Rio, you’ll just complain less about yours then Ricky does about his.”

“Listen to them. They speak the truth. You either get to help pick things out and listen to my amazing roadtrip playlists or you miss out on meatballs and get a surprise as far as furniture goes. Your call. But we’re turning that into a bedroom. After we clean up……. My mess.” from behind Rio’s back Ricky flipped Winston off and moved back to the kitchen, rinsing out the glasses and putting them in the dishwasher as he attempted to listen to the conversation from a slight distance, “Exactly what they said!” he called back, before walking back to the living room wiping his hands on a side towel, “Also all the food in the fridge. It’s not… overflowing right now because we need to make a grocery run but anything that’s in there you’re welcome to. And if there’s anything you want us to pick up at the store just let one of us know.” Flipping Winston off again he gave Rio one of his warmest smiles, “You can complain about it as much as you want. We’ll always listen.”

Orion sighed again. Apparently he couldn’t escape the Ikea trip. No matter how much he argued. He could find a way to pay them back eventually for anything. He just needed to keep a tab on the things that he owed. He wondered if he could casually ask what a reasonable rent was. Considering it was Harris Island, Rio figured that it was not cheap. His mind began racing, trying to decipher how he was going to juggle a job with schoolwork and what he was trying to do with the Scribes. But he was going to avoid stressing about that for the time being. He had some ideas in mind on how he could lighten the load. He would figure something out. Tonight was about trying to destress and relax. As much as possible. “Okay, okay. Just- I do own some things. So we will move my stuff into here and then we will assess.” At least he was here. And not with his family. This was way better. “Thanks, I appreciate it. I will keep that in mind.” They pretty much told him he had free reign of the house. As if he was already their roommate. Good people. “So are there any like ground rules? Like a sock on the door thing or something? Not for me, obviously. I won’t be having anyone over. But like uh- in case one of you does? Should I steer clear?”

Smirking at the surreptitious middle finger that was shot their way, Winston grinned a little and nodded. “I’m glad that you’ve accepted your inevitable fate which includes copious quantities of flat packed furniture,” Winston winked playfully before swallowing a good portion of their whiskey. “Sure, we can go round to your house and grab whatever you need whenever you need it,” Winston gave them a reassuring smile, “and if you need to borrow anything in the meantime we’ll try and sort you out.” Winston frowned before nodding. “I guess the first ground rule is just be honest with us, we’re not unreasonable guys and I’d rather get a shitty text about my dishes not being done then a passive aggressive post it note. Second, we’ve got a security system that isn’t completely … mundane. You’ll be fine because you’re not really what it is aimed at but just keep that in mind. I’ll show you how it all works tomorrow and I’m actually working on a phone app so we can control everything in the house all at once in one place. As for having people over, I’ll give you pre-warning if I’m having guests….” they hadn’t thought about Athena in a bit, they wondered how she was doing.

#p: ricky #para #p: orion #wickedswriting #seal mage hunter bar #they're not even in a bar wow

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100storiesin2020 · 4 years

Text

Chapter 9: Fallout of nightmares

Chapter titles are hard to come up with sometimes. Come read on AO3!

**********

Ronan hated the feeling of being frozen. He hated laying there in fear, watching the night horror moving for his throat. He struggled to fight, to defend himself, to not be helpless - but it was in vain. This may be the end for him, today. One bad dream where the old guilt resurfaced, bringing the night horrors in waves. Here, off the leyline, more drunk than he really ought to be, it was harder to control what he brought back with him.

The night horror dragged a claw down his face.

Suddenly, Sargent sprang to life beside him. He'd forgotten she was there. He'd griped about having her in the bed with him but in that moment he could have kissed her, girl or not. She kicked with both feet, knocking the thing off the bed. With a cry she jumped after it and drove a knife into its chest, kicking it in the gut for good measure. It collapsed. She approached it, raising the knife one more time, The door opened to reveal the two shady boys. Ronan didn't trust a single person from this whole fucking team, but these two were the worst. Sargent drove her knife into the eye of the beast, but Ronan couldn't relax with the midget's eyes on him.

He knew this could end in only a few ways, and he wasn't happy about any of them.

**********

Renee was just about to go back to sleep when her phone started to ring. She'd been awake for several hours in the night, bad memories stealing away her precious sleep, but she'd been listening to Allison breathing beside her and it had brought some calm back to her soul. Of course she would be getting a phone call now, and from Andrew no less. She gently reached past Allison and hit the silence button before her Andrew-specific heavy metal ringtone could wake her up. "Hello, Andrew. It's early."

"I need to talk to Natalie."

Shit. Renee eased out of the bed and went into the kitchen. "What happened."

"Where in Columbia would you hide a body?"

Natalie hummed. "Lake Murray, probably. It's got 500 miles of coastline so there's bound to be a few nooks and crannies that could work."

Andrew hummed. "How do we get blood out of the carpet?"

"Andrew, did you kill someone?"

"Nicky had it coming," he deadpanned. "Actually, Sargent here produced the body."

"Who was it?"

"You'll have to ask her yourself. How do we get blood out of the carpet?"

Renee sighed. "Okay, he'es where you start..."

**********

Blue tried to wipe up the blood as best as she could while Andrew talked on the phone. He seemed to be doing a lot of listening. She wasn't sure who this Natalie was, but hopefully she'd be able to help them out. And keep her mouth shut.

Neil had, surprisingly, been fairly useless. "What do you mean, you don't know how to dispose of a body? Wasn't your father a serial killer?"

"That was Lola's job - his favorite," he explained. "I was too young to help out with cleanup before we were on the run. Plus, I think she preferred acid. Where would we even buy that?"

Ronan wasn't helpful either. "Either I bury them in the field or I make Declan deal with it," he snarled. "I never fucking leave home, maggot. How should I have expected this?"

Andrew stomped back at that moment, having hung up the phone without a word. "You two have a lot of explaining to do. But first, we're taking this thing to Lake Murray."

Neil nodded. "And the others?"

Blue shuddered before Ronan spat, "Nobody else gets to know. It's bad enough with you two." Blue nodded in fierce agreement.

She watched as Andrew and Neil looked at each other for a minute, silently conversing, before Andrew sighed. "Nicky can drive the others home."

"I'll tell him Ronan barfed in his room and that we will clean it up before coming home." When Ronan spluttered, he added, "It's the only way I can think of to keep him out of the room long enough. Got a better idea?"

"We could throw him in the lake, too," Ronan muttered, drawing a laugh from Neil and a minute twitch of the lips from Andrew.

"Tempting," was all Andrew said before he turned and left the room. Blue noticed that Neil was watching him go.

Neil produced a long knife and started grinning in a very unsettling way. "This thing will be easier to move in smaller pieces," he said. "You two go clean up." Blue and Ronan left him there, knife spinning, a serial-killer grin splitting his face.

They headed to the bathroom. Blue shoved Ronan in first, then locked the door behind them. "Why the absolute fuck did you invite yourself?" she demanded. "I had this in hand. All I had to do was answer a few questions and not be suspicious and now here we are, night horror dead in the other room and suspicious as fuck."

Ronan glared at her. "I don't fucking trust them," he growled. "Matt told me some things about what they've done in Columbia. They drug people. Matt was an addict. They sent him into relapse and you were stupid enough to go with them? By yourself?"

Blue softened. "I don't trust them, but I didn't know those things. Thanks for looking out for me." She gave him a quick hug.

"Get off me maggot." He pushed her away. "Go get me some clothes, now I have to wash your foul stench off of me." She laughed and ducked out of the room in search of their stuff.

**********

Ronan finally started to relax as they drove to this Lake Murray place. They were following the GPS on the phone he'd dreamed up for Blue on her last birthday, as none of them had actually been there before. He always felt powerful behind the wheel of a car. The speed, the control, the impending danger: they were soothing.

He looked over at Sargent, curled up in the front seat next to him. She was shaking. He groaned a bit; she had seen worse than this. He turned on his music and "SQUASH ONE, SQUASH TWO" started to ring through the car. She groaned and reached for the power button just as they both heard a "the fuck is this?" from the backseat. Ronan batted away her hand with a grin and turned the song up even louder. He knew it was only a matter of time before he had to spill his secrets, so he may as well start getting his revenge proactively.

**********

Blue hated this.

They were standing in the sand at the edge of the lake, crowds swirling around them. The lake was a popular place on Saturday in late June, which meant that they looked like just another group of college students with their backpacks. Never mind that their backpacks contained pieces of night horror.

Neil stared out toward the center of the lake, eyes almost unseeing, breathing hard. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and tried to light one, but his hands were shaking too hard. Andrew reached out and put a hand on the back of his neck, pulling him down slightly. "You are Neil Josten," he said softly. "You are a Fox. She is dead."

"I am a Fox," Neil replied, leaning into Andrew. Blue looked away, terribly lonely for Gansey in that moment. It was too much. She was already falling apart, already on edge from killing a living creature - even a night horror - and the fear and adrenaline of possibly losing one of her Raven boys again, and then, seeing Andrew and Neil together in that moment, she wished she had Gansey beside her.

Ronan elbowed her. "No time for tears, maggot. We've got a body to dump." Blue wiped her eyes as best as she could and took a few deep breaths. It would have to do. Once all of them were composed, they started to walk down the beach. Soon enough they came on a dock with a boat rental booth. After talking to the owner, they learned that they could, in fact, rent a speedboat for a few hours, but they needed to be at least 23 to do it.

"That's alright," Ronan said, slapping an ID down on the counter. "As you can see here, I am 25." The cashier raised an eyebrow and clearly didn't believe it, but shrugged and pulled out the paperwork. Soon they were throwing their bags into a slightly beat up speedboat.

"So why do you have a fake ID that says you're 25?" Blue asked.

"One of Kavinsky's pranks."

They hopped in the boat and Blue drove it out. She definitely didn't trust any of these boys to drive, and with how often she had watched Orla do it she felt fairly confident. They poked around a few inlets for an hour before they decided to just dump them into a distant, quiet part of the lake. Dream objects were heavy. The night horror would sink.

Andrew finally dropped the question as they headed back to the docks. "So what was that thing?" Rather than respond, Blue hit the gas, speeding up until it was much too loud and bumpy to hold any kind of conversation. Ronan laughed and tried to fist bump her, but they hit a wave and he cursed as he reached for the nearest handhold. Blue laughed. Andrew was glaring at her and Neil was looking kind of green, but Ronan looked the happiest he'd been all day, wind in his face.

Eventually they got back to the dock and returned the keys to the boat. They climbed back into the car and Ronan paused for a moment.

"That was a night horror. I pulled it from my dreams."

There was a long silence in the backseat. "So magic is real, then?" Neil asked.

"Yes," Blue replied, "but not like, wizard magic. Psychics, tarot cards, leylines, those sort of things. Those are real magic."

"And dreams."

"And dreams, yes."

"Are the dreams always this dangerous?" Andrew asked.

Ronan growled under his breath. Blue forestalled the venom she knew he'd spit out. "Night horrors, like those things, are rare these days. Usually he brings cool things back. Magic things. Things that shouldn't work, but do."

"And the occasional annoying bird," Ronan said almost fondly. He'd left Chainsaw at the house, not trusting her to not attack Andrew and Neil in the backseat.

Andrew seemed satisfied, but Neil continued to ask questions as Ronan started the car and headed back to the house. "Are any of the rest of you magic?"

Ronan laughed wickedly. "I'm the only living dreamer I know."

"That wasn't my question." Shit, he's clever, Blue thought.

At that moment all four of their phones went off simultaneously. Ronan never answered his phone, Blue didn't recognize the number, and Neil only laughed when he saw who was calling him, so it was Andrew who answered. He listened for a few seconds, gave a terse "they're alive," and hung up before turning his phone off. Blue's phone started to ring again.

"It's probably someone from the team," Neil said. "Renee called Andrew and Matt tried to call me. You should probably answer. Five bucks that they ask if we tried to murder you."

"I'll take you on that," Blue replied. "Hello?"

"Oh, thank god," Dan said. "Are y'all alright? They didn't kidnap you or anything?"

Blue laughed. "We kidnapped them, actually." Neil laughed.

"Where are you guys? The other monsters got home ages ago."

"Don't call them monsters," Blue snapped.

"But-"

"Don't." Neil gave her an appreciative nod.

Dan sighed. "Fine. Where are you guys at?"

"Almost back to their house. We need to grab our stuff and then we will be right back. Should be about an hour and a half, right?" she directed to the backseat.

"Around that, yes," Neil replied.

"Then we will expect you around then." Blue hung up the phone.

"Speaking of teammates," Blue said, "was anyone going to inform me that Columbia with y'all had potential to be hazardous to my health?

Neil snorted. "You two are the most dangerous thing that's ever happened on a trip to Eden's," he said with a grin.

Ronan cackled. "Damn straight."

#blue sargent #ronan lynch #andrew minyard #neil josten #renee walker #dan wilds #all for the game #aftg #the raven cycle #trc #a chainsaw in fox tower #chapter 9 #crossover

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masterserris · 5 years

Text

FUNERAL FOR A MAGICIAN FINAL PART: Be Human

Mysterio is back in action! Renewed, what will he do next?!

“I analyze and I verify and I quantify enough One hundred percentile No errors, no miss I synchronize and I specialize and I classify so much Don't worry 'bout dreaming Because I don't sleep

I wish I could at least 30 percent Maybe 50 for pleasure Then skip all the rest

If I only was more human I would count every single second the rest of my life If I just could be more human I'd have so many little babies and maybe a wife

I'd roll around the mud And have lots of fun Then when I was done Build bubble bath towers and swim in the tub

Sand castles on the beach

Frolic in the sea Get a broken knee Be scared of the dark and I'd sing out of key

Cuss when I lost a fight Kiss and reunite Scratch a spider bite Be happy with wrinkles I got when I smiled

Pet kittens til they purred Maybe keep a bird Always keep my word I'd cry at sad movies I'd laugh til it hurt

I'd buy a big bike And ride by the lake And I'd have lots of friends And I'd stay out too late

If I could just be more human I would see every little thing with a gleam in my eye If only I was more human I'd embrace every single feeling that came in my life

Would I care and be forgiving? Would I be sentimental and would I feel loneliness? Would I doubt and have misgivings? Would I cause someone sorrow, too? Would I know what to do? Will I cry when it's all over?

When I die, will I see heaven?”

youtube

(This was the only full version I could find RIP)

youtube

Characters: Neo Mysterio (Quentin Beck), Doc Ock (Otto Octavius), Spider-Man (Peter Parker), Alexandria Beck (Alex), Sandman (Flint Marko), Chameleon

Warnings: Explicit gore and death, violence, mentions of past abuse, mental illness, physical illness, swearing

^These warnings are here for the story as a whole. If you get invested by reading a less graphic chapter, then be prepared for the warnings above in other parts!!

(swearing in this chapter + moderate/mild gore and violence)

Parker was taking photos of the event for the Daily Bugle, but as everyone was leaving, he had caught the four Sinister Six members out of the corner of his eye. He was not about to let them escape.

Luckily, since all the celebrities were heading out, he had a perfectly good excuse to leave himself and change into his spider suit. He quickly tailed them from a distance as they headed to their hidden limo. He shot a spider tracer at the vehicle as they were entering, but this did not go unnoticed.

Just as Quentin was about to get in, he saw the tracer on the back hood and immediately shot his eyes up enough to glimpse Spider-Man. He jumped back and his Neo suit materialized over his dress suit. Chameleon and Otto sped off into the night after Mysterio peeled the tracer off the car. Flint and Beck were ready for a fight.

Flint: “Ay, Spider-Man! Why can’t ya just leave us alone! We wuzn’t doin’ nuthin’!”

Neo Mysterio: “Right, leave it to you, Spider-Man, to ruin our little night on the town. I’m honestly not surprised since you always have a habit of making my life worse than it already is.”

Spider-Man: “Really, bowl-face? I just wanted to tail you guys and find out what you were up to. You’re the ones wanting a fight! And besides, I really find that hard to believe. You’re the Sinister Six. It’s kinda your brand to make bad things happen. And no one made you become a super villain in the first place. You all chose to be one.”

Flint: “It ain’t that easy, Spider-Man. Life has a nice way a’ pushin’ guys like us around to do things we don’t really wanna do.”

Spider-Man: “So don’t do it, then! You think your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man doesn’t also have spider-problems? We all do! Our choices are what make us heroes or villains. You were literally given a second chance, Beck! That’s more than most people! Are you really gonna throw that away by sticking with these guys?”

Flint turned to Mysterio, worried for his friend.

Neo Mysterio: “Spider-Man, every time you’ve interfered in my life, things have gotten worse. I was just some nobody committing petty crime to try and pay off my debts and make a new life. But you caught and beat me. Put me in jail, only to be busted out by my new friends. They’ve treated me far better than most people ever have. Every time you try and stop us, more people get hurt. I died because you just HAD to defeat me.”

Spider-Man: “I- no... that’s... But even still! Think of all the people we saved! From Ultron! From Terrax! Those worlds would still be under treat!”

Neo Mysterio: “Maybe! You don’t KNOW that! I can NEVER trust you hero types! So many of you flip-flop between hero and villain or just fight amongst yourselves all the time! At least I know where I stand with villains.”

Spider-Man: “Beck! Please! You’re making a mistake! Marko! I know you’ve struggled with being a villain in the past! Both of you can walk away from this, here and now! Do the right thing you know to be true!”

Flint: “Sorry, Spidey. I got people countin’ on me to see this through ‘til the end. I ain’t no quitter.”

Peter desperately turns back to Mysterio.

Spider-Man: “Quentin! Think of your sister! Would she want you to do this? Throwing away your life again after everything that’s happened?”

Mysterio was deathly silent for a moment, before snapping.

Neo Mysterio: “Don’t you DARE. Don’t you dare for one SECOND try and use my sister to try and manipulate me into doing what you want me to. You have no idea what we’ve gone through. You don’t know a THING about me, Spider-Man. Just. Stay away!”

And with that Mysterio slammed a smoke grenade on the pavement. Before Parker could leap after them, they had vanished completely. Peter was no closer to finding out their plans nor where their new base was. All he knew is that he drove Beck further away. He screwed up.

--------------------------------

After meeting back up at the Sinister Six base, they all except for Quentin had departed to their quarters. It was certainly an interesting night. Beck had thanked them once again for trying to cheer him up. With a sigh he reached into the communal fridge for something to drink.

???:” Fancy meeting you here.”

Beck whirled around in shock only to see Flint leaning against the table, looking smug.

Quentin: “Hoooooly fucking shit man, you scared the hell out of me. Don’t do that again,” he said with a smile.

Flint: “Hah, it’s hard ta get the jump on ya, so I’ll take what I can get haha. Anyways, I just wanted ta see how you’re doin’ after.. ya know.. the Spider ruinin’ our picnic and all.”

Quentin: “God, he pisses me off so bad... I’m not even completely sure why, either. Yeah, it’s annoying when he gets in the way, but I think... I think it’s that damn big mouth of his that gets me.”

Flint: “I know whatcha mean. D’ya know he once called me Flinto? Fuckin’ FLINTO. What the hell is that supposed ta mean? I wasn’t even offended. Just... confused...”

Quentin: “Well, I mean, I don’t LIKE being called ‘bowl-head’ very much, but I think it more has to do with his bullshit view on life. Like, I can respect it enough, but he seems to think it’s just SO easy to stay out of trouble. But the thing is, trouble grabs you, it sinks you in and you just can’t get out. Then everything is ruined and you’ll never be free again. So what if I came back to life? I still gotta finish this. No matter what. Maybe after that, we can all... rest, but I kinda doubt the world will let us. We’ll always be bad in their eyes. People just... don’t seem to get that anyone could be in our position... If things had just gone a little differently. It’s his... smug.. stupid naive ideals that just rub me wrong, I guess.”

Flint: “Well, jeez, I guess so... Look, I wuz just hopin’ you had a good time, is all. Soon, hopefully we can put all a’ this junk behind us, okay?”

Quentin: “Yeah.. tonight was good. No matter what. Thanks for.. sticking by me, Flint. It means a lot. Maybe... Maybe when everything is done, you can visit my sister’s place and your daughter can see my niece?”

Flint: “Yeah. I’d like that. Sounds like a plan, buddy.”

--------------------------------------

It was less than a week later that Peter was alerted by the police scanner. Numerous reports were flooding in of a certain fishbowl-man causing terror downtown. With a heavy hearted sigh, Peter leaped into action.

He was hoping, more than anything, that Beck could do away with this life of crime. He was a good person, deep down in there, or so Parker believed. Why was he so hellbent on helping the Sinister Six? So much so that he would risk it all again?

Peter swung building to building, closing in on the commotion. It was not hard to spot. Mysterio had conjured up a whole horde of demons and monsters to scare people away. His fear gas was driving people wild, having them panic and sprint blocks and blocks away. To his credit, Beck knew how to get people out of the way when he needed them to.

Parker was ready, this time. He had a gas mask on and had calibrated his lenses to better see through the hologram projections. Not perfect, but it would do.

Spider-Man: “Hey! Hey Mr. Fun House! Why aren’t you at the carnival where you belong? Can’t you see these people HATE your show?”

Neo Mysterio: “Always with the JOKES! Well, laugh THIS off!”

Mysterio shot at Peter with his hand lasers, hoping to knock the hero away. He could not afford this interruption right now. Spider-Man took the hit, but dodged the second barrage. It stung, but he could shake it off.

Spider-Man: “Hey! Fine! You want serious? Let’s get serious!”

Parker swung in and slugged Mysterio right across the helmet, sending them both clattering to the ground with a grunt of pain. They both quickly got to their feet and prepared to fight.

Spider-Man: “Stop this, Beck! Final chance! Stand down and tell me why you’re robbing Alchemax! What does Octavius want so bad?!”

Neo Mysterio: “I have nothing to say to you! I don’t owe you anything! Least of all my breath and time! Just leave me alone and everything will stop!”

Spider-Man: “Sorry, can’t let that happen, Mysty!”

Peter shot a web right past Mysterio, hitting a car. Yanking forward he launched himself at Mysterio, aiming to smash that bowl of his. The only thing was that Beck dodged at the last second, making Spider-Man land onto the car with an agile flip. When Peter turned around Quentin was already sprinting at him, ready to throw a haymaker punch.

Peter dodge to the left with a somersault, making Beck slam his right arm into steel. His carbonadium fist was imbedded within the vehicle, making him an easy target for Peter to kick.

Quentin blocked Peter’s foot with with his free arm. Parker was shocked at Mysterio’s raw strength. He suspected that he was in fact fighting a robot instead of the real deal. Why would Mysterio simply be in public? Wouldn’t he hide himself while his robots took the attention away from him?

Coming to this conclusion, Peter was done pulling his punches. When Mysterio freed himself from the side of the car, Peter slammed a lamppost against Beck’s head, thoroughly shattering his dome. People still nearby gasped as Quentin went clattering to the ground. Any human would surely have been killed by such a devastating blow.

With a groan, Beck got to his feet, his head bleeding from the shards of glass cutting him open.

Peter’s heart dropped at his mistake. How could he have screwed up so bad? He surely has a concussion, or worse, a hemorrhage in his brain from such a nasty impact. He could keel over dead at any minute. God, all that blood was pouring out of him, wasn’t it? Just like. Just like...

Spider-Man: “Oh god, Quentin, you’re bleeding! Stop moving, we need to get you to a hospital!”

Neo Mysterio: “What I NEED is you to stop looking down on me, Spider-Man...”

Wiping the blood from his brow, Beck rushed at Spider-Man, not letting up. Parker did his best to fight back, but Quentin was inhumanly strong. Never had Peter known that he was holding back so much. The prototype super soldier serum was certainly no joke and Beck just had so much rage.

Spider-Man: “ENOUGH!!”

Parker threw a punch with all his might at Beck, a last desperate attempt to stop this fight, but Mysterio simply caught his fist. Caught a punch from Spider-Man, the guy who could lift a tank and who fought the Incredible Hulk. Peter was shocked.

Neo Mysterio: “I’ll be your punching bag no longer, Spider-Man! Today, YOU LOSE!!”

Quentin pulled his fist back and slammed Parker across the jaw, sending him face-first into the pavement. With a “shink!”, Beck unsheathed the blade on his wrist and held it an inch from Peter’s neck.

Neo Mysterio: “huff... huff... I win... Today, I win...”

As suddenly as Mysterio, attacked, he pulled away, sheathing his blade once more. Peter was rather confused. Most super villains aren’t in the business of sparing their foes.

Neo Mysterio: “I’m letting you go... I don’t wanna kill anyone... not you... you don’t deserve that... you’re just fighting me to protect others... I get it... but... If we ever battle again... and I beat you... I’ll let you go... Only if you promise to let me go and not follow me once I’m done... If you win? Well... then you capture me, it’s that simple.... but if I win? Then you just leave with your skin still attached.... deal?”

Peter was reeling. Still seeing stars from the blow that he was dealt. He was in no position to refuse. Mysterio was sparing him. He would just have to beat him next time. He didn’t like giving up. He never gave up. Peter was not going to give up now or ever. He would keep fighting. Today just wasn’t his day.

Spider-Man: “D-deal....”

Neo simply stared at him with cold eyes before vanishing in a puff of green smoke. The robot doubles that Peter was worried about were already done robbing the place 5 minutes ago, anyways. Quentin himself was the distraction this time. And now he was once more a wanted man. The cycle repeats once more.

Peter shakily got to his feet, helped a few citizens recover from the gas and commotion, then swung away. He had a lot to think about, and a lot of healing to do.

---------------------------------

Beck went back to the base, prize in hand. His face was properly stitched up by Otto, along with a new serum that faded scars over time. He was exhausted in all ways imaginable, but he still had energy to do one last thing.

He compressed his armor into an under suit once more after fixing his helmet and teleported to a rooftop a few miles away, wearing a simple green sweater and soft dark jeans. He sat on the very edge of the roof, observing the sunset from his precarious vantage point. A matcha latte in one hand and his cellphone in another.

He called his sister.

End of Funeral for a Magician

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Thank you all so much for reading! It means a ton! I shall make a master post with links to all the chapters, along with a link to the playlist that accompanies this story!

As a bonus, there shall be some art to go with it from a special someone who I commissioned for this!

Have a wonderful week everyone, and thanks for sticking with me through this emotional roller coaster!!

-MS

#mysterio #neo mysterio #neo mysterio fic #au #doc ock #otto octavius #flint marko #sandman #chameleon #peter parker #spider-man #sfw #marvel #msocs #bestofms

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hopeishappinessff · 6 years

Text

Holding Onto Hope: Chapter 55

Chris

Smoke filled my lungs to capacity and I held my breath as long as I could plus a few seconds longer, before releasing the cloud from my nose. Lifting the blunt to my lips, I inhaled yet another two lungs full of smoke, swallowed it down, and held it down like I’d just taken a big gulp of hot water. It felt good sizzling in my chest, calming me in a way that nothing and no one could. My eyes darted around the scene… it was dark out, but being in the middle of nature on a warm summer night was doing a magnificent job of bringing me to my senses. I would have preferred to be out at my little spot at the lake, but I couldn’t just steal my mom’s car like that for my own selfish reasons. Not to mention, she was out on some hot date this evening and because she refused to let the bastard come to the house and find out where we lived, she took her car to meet him there. I was the furthest from happy about her going out with some random man, but I was even further from happy about what the fuck had gone down this morning, so I didn’t have it in me to argue against her going. My mind had been completely off track and fucked up since I took that last look at Hope’s stunned face before storming out of her house, so I steered clear of the neighborhood all day because I was too ashamed to be anywhere near her after my episode.

Now, here I was at the local park about five minutes from the neighborhood. I made myself comfortable at the top of the highest part of the playground near the slides. I contemplated just camping out here for the night, because I was so disappointed in myself that I didn’t even want to set foot in the neighborhood at all. But, I am indeed a grown ass black man in the middle of a children’s playground in the park… I’m sure the local authorities would have some serious questions for me if they found me sleeping here.

Taking another mind-numbing hit from the blunt, I shut my eyes again as I held down the smoke, but this time after I blew the smoke out I took the sweet in my right hand and smashed it against the hard surface I sat on. I was really too high to be this far up on this playground and I was a bit concerned about how I was gonna get down without breaking my neck, but I would just worry about that when the time came… which I unfortunately knew would be soon.

Leaning against the bars behind me, I sighed and shut my eyes once again… it was the best way for me to replay the tragic events of this morning. I needed to replay those events. I needed to suffer by sitting there with my eyes shut forever so I could replay every single pained memory of the heartache I’d cause for Hope. I deserved nothing other than straight up suffering.

True enough, I hadn’t taken my medicine at all yesterday because I knew I’d be consuming hefty amounts of liquor so I didn’t want to tamper with my system like that. As a matter of fact, I had yet to take any of my meds, but I couldn’t use that as an excuse. No, I simply got pissed off in that kitchen because… I was afraid. I was deathly afraid that Hope had really gotten upset enough with me to leave, again, and I couldn’t handle the thought of that. I was so frustrated with my own fuck up that I snapped and took it out on her when she refused to hear my bullshit excuses. I was wrong and she was every bit of right… if she wanted to be mad and not hear me out, I should have respected that and walked away. This girl sent me a picture of her naked breasts for crying out loud… who wouldn’t be mad if they saw that on their boyfriend’s phone?

I don’t even know how the chick got my number, but it didn’t matter at this point. The damage had already been done and I guess the only thing I could do was wait to see how much it would affect us.

I had a therapy session coming up in a couple days, but I didn’t even have the desire to share any of this with Dr. Stevenson. Back in Georgia if I knew I was scheduled to see Dr. Yates soon, I would be anxious for days until the appointment arrived so I could spill the news to her. She never failed to make me feel like the weight of the world had been lifted from my shoulders whenever I shared something with her. Whether good or bad, she just made me feel like everything that I was saying was the most important thing she’d ever heard and that was what made her the most amazing therapist to me. I was almost tempted to get in contact with her so she could tell me what I needed to do to make this right, but… I didn’t know the rules as far as me reaching out to her. Was that even legal? Knowing Dr. Stevenson, she’d somehow find out and use that as an excuse to throw my ass back in the institute… I really hated that woman with everything in me.

I don’t know how long I’d been sitting up on this playground or even what time it was, but based on the way my stomach growled every five minutes or so, one thing was for sure… I had some serious munchies. I chuckled to myself and shook my head, thinking back to how I stormed out of the house right before breakfast was ready and I’d successfully been so caught up in my feelings that I skipped lunch and dinner.

With a defeated sigh, I tried not to think about just how high and high up I was as I stood and slipped the half smoked joint and lighter in my front pocket. Standing there for a moment, I really considered just how much I did not want to risk climbing down the step stone ladder looking thing in front of me, or the stripper pole behind me, or the random rings that looped from the top of this thing to the ground to my left… my only logical and safe option was one of the three slides attached. I chuckled, yet again, with a shake of my head… damn I hope nobody was watching my ass.

I shut my eyes for the brief ride down and imagined that I hadn’t just fucking childishly done that all the way to the ground. Quickly standing to my feet, I brushed off the back of my jeans and adjusted the hat atop my head before briskly walking out of the playground and the park altogether. There was a corner store a few blocks away and I figured I would go grab some snacks to get me through the night then head on home, hopefully before my mom got back. I felt like I floated down the street, I was that damn high… but I felt good, and that’s all that mattered. By the time I reached the convenience store I couldn’t even remember taking the journey there. I pulled the glass door open and floated through there too until I found myself in the middle of the candy isle. There were too many options to choose from, so I made it as simple as I could for myself and picked a few chocolate candies, a few gummies, and a pack of sour skittles. Then I made my way around to the chip isle to grab a bag of Doritos, and I finally wrapped up the trip by plucking a blue cherry Gatorade from the refrigerators in the back.

I quickly made my way to the register and waited impatiently for the older white lady to ring up my items. It felt like decades before she finally gave me a total and after sliding a twenty across the counter at her, she slid my change back to me along with my items.

“Can I get a bag please?” I grumbled, discreetly rolling my eyes when she leaned over behind the counter to grab a plastic bag. I ended up snatching it from her hand and bagging my own shit before turning and making my way back out.

I was too focused on tearing a bag of peach gummy rings open to notice the nigga coming through the door as I walked out. Only when the bag went toppling from my hands and onto the dirty pavement did I bother to look up and mug this asshole, but suddenly I found myself rooted right where I stood as I made eye contact with this guy. He gave me no more than a wicked smirk, that looked more mischievous than I cared to admit, before finally brushing past me and into the store. My head twisted so that I could keep him in focus and my heart pounded loud enough to be heard loud and clear in my ears. I guess he could still feel me staring at him like a creep because he glanced back at me with that same filthy smirk on his face and with a shake of his head, he looked away from me and kept moving to the back of the store. I wasn’t losing my mind… at least I hope I wasn’t.

If my eyebrows scrunched together any harder, I was sure to end up with a permanent frown on my damn face. My fingers maneuvered around the sleek buttons on the controller effortlessly, as usual, but for the life of me I could not win a single one of these got damn games. I was getting frustrated, enough to want to throw the controller across the room… but I wouldn’t do that to my man Dontay. He’d invited me over for a few rounds of halo and I happily accepted the invite and hopped in my mom’s car almost quicker than she had time to confirm that she didn’t have anywhere to go today. I desperately needed to get out of the house… I’d been cooped up in there for a full week and I was on the verge of losing my mind. But the longer I sat on this couch playing this game, listening to Dontay hoot and holler in my ear about how he couldn’t believe he was whooping my ass, the more I realized perhaps I wasn’t all that prepared to leave the house. My head was all over the place and more than anything the run in I’d had at the corner store still had me shook… I couldn’t get the thought of it out of my mind. The encounter lasted all of thirty seconds, but it replayed in my mind like an ongoing movie. I couldn’t shake the feeling I got in that exact moment… couldn’t rid my mind of the haunting memories that lingered, even though I hadn’t touched on that topic in two years.

“Dawg, oooooh dawg, you gone have to come up off that forty dollars today got damnit!” Dontay yelled, bouncing like a child on the couch beside me. He tossed his own controller on the floor thanks to his excitement and abruptly stood up, turning to face me with an annoying grin on his face.

“Pay up playa!” I couldn’t help but chuckle and shake my head… I would give him this win, no lie, he earned it. But it wasn’t my fault that I couldn’t get my thoughts together enough to focus. Reluctantly I reached into the front pocket of my basketball shorts and pulled out my wallet, feeling around inside it for the two crisp bills he stood there demanding with his arms crossed.

“Don’t get used to this shit though bro. You might as well hold on to those bills because next time we play, I’m taking them right back… plus some.”

“Nigga plus these nuts, you ain’t taking shit!” He laughed, stuffing his reward in his pocket like a stripper who just pulled an all-nighter and turning to head toward the kitchen, “You want something to drink?”

“I been in your house for more than half the day Don and you just now offering a nigga something to drink?” I laughed.

He’d already gone around the column separating the living room from the kitchen, but he made it a point to stick his left hand and middle finger up at me from the behind the wall making me laugh harder.

“You really coulda been got up and fixed your own shit, lowkey. Talkin’ shit in my shit… don’t get put out boy.” He couldn’t help but laugh himself as he rounded the corner back into the living room with two bottles of beer in hand. He handed one off to me with the top already popped off and I took a swig the moment it was in my hand.

“Thanks bro.” I mumbled, four full swigs later. He nodded his response as he switched the TV back over to regular cable and began to surf through the channels. We sat there in silence for a while as I gulped down half the bottle… my nerves were getting the best of me and I really needed to pace myself before I ended up killing the whole box by myself.

I hadn’t even realized that not only had Dontay settled on Fast and Furious, he’d dropped the remote on the arm of the couch beside him and he actually sat there staring at me as he waited for me to respond to a question I hadn’t even heard him ask.

“Bro, what the hell!” He exclaimed after almost a full minute of me gazing at this bottle in my hand and ignoring his question.

“My bad… what you say?”

He stared at me oddly for a moment, glanced at the bottle I held, and looked back at me with a raised brow “I was asking if you heard from Sy?”

My heart dropped… perhaps I shouldn’t have asked him to repeat that question. I had not heard from Hope in approximately one week and he just reminded me of that unfortunate fact.

Not only had my mind been plagued with thoughts of my encounter at the gas station, but most of every second of every day had been spent thinking about her. From the moment I walked out of her house after I slammed my fist into the refrigerator door, ‘til now… I hadn’t heard from her. I couldn’t bring myself to face her or even hear her voice after that… I was entirely too ashamed. But the part that crushed me more than anything was that I hadn’t actually heard from her… because she hadn’t reached out to me. No phone call, no texts… she even went as far as avoiding me altogether on social media. Every single day since that incident was spent sulking in my room because I just couldn’t come to terms with what I’d done. Even after my session with Dr. Stevenson on Wednesday, I still felt like shit. It’s not like I was expecting the miracle of having some type of breakthrough with that woman that would inspire me to go approach Hope and extend my sincerest apologies, but… I was at least expecting some type of decent resolution. But no… I walked out of her office feeling like I needed to go jump off a bridge. Thankfully I went home and isolated myself from the world instead.

There were a few nights when I would sneak out of the house to come chill at Dontay’s with the boys, but today was the first actual day that I’d decided to function like a normal human during normal hours.

I think I may have sat there in an awkward silence much longer than I should have after he asked the question for the second time, so once I realized that I quickly cleared my throat and shook my head “Nah.”

“Damn… well, how you been man?”

I often tended to forget that these boys knew me almost better than I knew my own damn self. Or, I wouldn’t forget, but just chose to believe that they didn’t know me at all because after my diagnoses I felt like a totally different person… but they knew me. Dontay was fully aware of my dependence on Hope and he understood how much it affected me to go longer than a day without talking to her. It had been that way when we were kids and nothing had changed… accept now it actually took prescription medication to get me to calm the fuck down enough to deal with her absence.

“Alright I guess,” My jaw clenched as I thought about opening the topic further to reveal more of my truth to Don… I mean the guy knew most of me, but he didn’t know all of me, “I uh… had to get a prescription from my therapist to help me, you know… cope.”

He stared at me through wondering eyes, but they weren’t judgmental at all… I think that’s what made it feel so much easier to discuss any of this with him “What kind of prescription?”

“Alpranax.”

His brows furrowed with question and I chuckled with zero humor with a shake of my head “It’s herbal relaxation… a more, holistic approach I guess. Originally I started out with Klonopin, but… that didn’t turn out so well and now I’m banned from using that. I also have a prescription for medical marijuana.”

Dontay’s fist catapulted out and directly into my left arm before I could even blink and I yelped a healthy “Shit man!’ and damn near dropped my bottle trying to reach up and rub the now throbbing spot.

“I just been giving you my stash, thinking I’m helping yo ass out and you got the real plug. Fuck you dawg!”

I would have been mad because all my focus had immediately gone to the dull pain in my arm, but I couldn’t fight back my laughter at the look on his face… he really did look pissed. I mean, yeah I smoked the man’s shit and willingly accepted every gram he offered me, but… it wasn’t my fault he didn’t ask me if I had a connect before he just started donating from his stash!

“I know those medical dispensaries be having that legit shit… you owe me bro.” He chuckled.

“You coulda just said that before hauling off on my fucking arm Don… damn.” My arm really did hurt like shit because he managed to sink his knuckles into my skin in that slick hit, but I still laughed though… nigga better be glad he was like a brother to me.

“But, I don’t get it though… why you need a prescription to cope? It has to do with the time you haven’t been around Sy?” He asked once the laughter settled

“It has everything to do with that man.” “But you ain’t ever had to rely on some medicine to help you deal with that before. What they had you on down there in Georgia man… you know I still don’t even know your full story from after you left camp up in New York to move down to GA.”

No one does, I thought. Nibbling quietly into the inside of my bottom lip, I stared down at the bottle I’d since picked back up in my right hand. I watched as a few straggling beads of perspiration slithered down the neck of the bottle… stared at it as the beads of water trickled down along the edges under the pressure of my warm hand. The same way I could feel myself beginning to sweat under the watchful eye of Dontay… was that story really one that I was ready to reveal?

Only a select few people knew the entire details, like Hope, my mom, and Dr. Yates… only because they had to know. And Benny… because he’s the one who saved my life precisely seconds after I tried to end it. My heart raced and I swallowed nervously as the memories swirled through every crevice of my brain, overtaking my ability to even speak for a moment.

I’m not sure how much time passed while I continued to sit there, slipping further and further into my dark memories. I tried not to ever do this… I tried not to recollect anything from that night. My life was not in my own control back in those days. I’d allowed an entire entity to consume me to the point that Christopher Maurice Brown completely ceased to exist. The more I thought about it, the harder it was to believe that that was once me and it was even harder to believe I allowed that damn demon to be anywhere near Hope… I still don’t think I’ve fully come to terms with it to this day…

“Hey man,” I flinched at the feeling of Dontay touching my shoulder because for several minutes, my mind wasn’t even in this room, “You don’t have to talk about that shit if you don’t want to bro.”

Inhaling a much needed breath of air, because I think I may have forgotten to breathe in that span of time as well, I quickly shook my head and blinked several times to really regroup.

“Nah, nah… it’s fine. My bad… I uh, I got diagnosed while I was out there. Therapist pinned me with bipolar disorder and dissociative identity disorder.” I mumbled.

“Dissociative identity disorder… the hell is that?”

“Multiple personality disorder…”

The room became deathly silent then and I was honestly afraid to even look at Dontay. There was a load of fear lingering in the pit of my stomach that this would be the moment that he would kick me out of his crib and tell me to go fuck myself and never come back. This was it… I was a fucking weirdo and no one wants to be associated with a weirdo…

“Don, I should probably go man…” I went to make a move to get up from the couch, still without bothering to face him, but I noticed his hand sticking out in front of my chest to prevent me from moving. I stared down at his hand, which forced me to notice how hard my chest was heaving, and abruptly shut my eyes.

“Shit bro!” The bottle that was once in my hand was suddenly snatched away and I could feel him shifting around beside me then the sound of footsteps rushing to the other side of the apartment. He was fucking running from me now? Damnit… how embarrassing. I needed to go, now.

Clutching at the front of my shirt, desperate to regulate my breathing enough to not pass out, I opened my eyes and prepared to make a run for it to the front door, but ended up frowning at the sight of him rushing back toward me with a chilled bottle of water in his hand.

“You good Breezy? Here, drink this… calm down man.” He thrusted the bottle out at me and I accepted it reluctantly. Cracking the top open, I swallowed down two mouthfuls and finally glanced at him from the corner of my eye.

He was sitting there with his legs spread wide, elbows perched on his knees, and fingers linked together as he sat slouched in a lazy stance. His brows were deeply furrowed and he shook his head slowly, as if really trying to register what all had just happened.

“You a soldier Chris, I know that much,” Was the first thing he muttered, immediately catching my attention and forcing me to focus on what he was saying after I’d calmed my breathing, “You been out there dealing with all that shit that whole time man? And no one knew? Why you ain’t been home man… this is where you need to be because I’m sure that shit ain’t just happen to you overnight, right? Nah… this ain’t new, it’s been in you the whole time… shit yo ass been crazy as fuck since we was what like, eight.”

That was the first inkling that he wasn’t here to judge me, at all… and we both laughed. Not only at what he’d just said, but at the unspoken fact that he was totally fine with what I’d just explained to him. I wasn’t a weirdo in his eyes. I was still his boy… his brother.

“But I’m saying bruh, if you’ve been living like that… completely undiagnosed since you was a youngin, who would have ever guessed it? You grew up like that, right here in VA with us, and you never got diagnosed. You know what that tells me… that tells me that ain’t no love for you out there. All the love and support you need is right here, right at home. You gone be alright my dude, ‘cause you home now and we gone make sure you taken care of. You, Sy’Diyah, and my niece.”

I stared down at nothing in particular on the floor and blinked rapidly to prevent the tears from coming, because man did they want to. God… what did I do to deserve friends and loved ones like this? I wasn’t expecting that, at all, but Dontay literally just listened to me explain to him that I am basically insane, and all of them took the time out of their lives to come to my welcome home party with full knowledge that I had just been released from a mental institution… because they cared.

“Thanks Don. You don’t know how much I appreciate that man.” I damn near whispered because I was too afraid that if I spoke any louder my voice would crack.

“And I appreciate you for sharing that shit with me bro. I know that shit has to be tough for you… I can only imagine what it’s like to have to walk around knowing that that’s who you are, but guess what… you ain’t know about it before, so what makes you any different now?”

I shook my head and laughed, sniffling and blinking back tears and all “Alright man, chill out… you forreal ‘bout to make me cry and shit.”

“Aww, they diagnosed yo ass with being a pussy too?” We both burst out laughing and I finally had the opportunity to get a grip on my emotions then, “Listen, ain’t no need to get emotional on me bro. What I’m saying to you right now is straight facts, no filter. You think ain’t nobody notice you ain’t been shit but a shell since you been back? You ain’t been nothing close to the Breezy I knew before you left. I mean you been all timid and shy and shit, you just seem like your nerves is always bad and shit. I don’t know everything that went down out there, but clearly it was some major shit to put you in a whole institute. But you home now my dude… you home like you ain’t never left, so let all that shit stay right where it belongs… behind you. Real talk… I love you to death Chris, you know you my brother. On behalf of myself and the whole crew, we love you and we gone always ride for you. Don’t you ever forget that boy.”

He stood up suddenly and didn’t give me much time to decide if I really wanted to cry or not before yanking me up into a straight genuine, brotherly hug. We stood there for a while hugging it out, which gave me time to tuck this new memory away. I felt like it filled the place of one of my many horrible memories. I couldn’t make it make sense if someone asked, but exactly like Dontay said… this is exactly where I needed to be and all the other shit that went down in Georgia was behind me. Every day I spent here in Virginia helped push me closer and closer to the person I once was. I could feel a broad smile coming on the longer I thought about it… until I heard a sniffle that didn’t come from me.

“Dontay…”

“My bad bruh, shit… I ain’t mean to get that deep.” He pulled back from me and quickly turned around. He raised his arms and swiped his hands down over his face, quickly as if I wouldn’t notice… he was crying. This nigga was actually crying. He was the one who just told my ass not to cry!

“I thought you said no crying bro?” I chuckled.

“Ain’t nobody crying nigga, chill out.” He quickly spun back to face me, but there was no use in trying to deny it… the tip of his light bright ass nose was pink. I shook my head and continued to laugh… and I thought I was the pussy.

#chrisbrown #chrisbrownff #chrisbrownfanfic #jasminesanders #chrisbrownfanfiction #jasminesandersff #teambreezy #teambreezyff #fanfiction #fanfic

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teenbasher · 6 years

Text

Childs Play and Accidental Drownings.

I'm changing up the drowning of Alex's headcanon in my head a bit. This is the new version. There is some fluff but in the end, it’s just sadness and trauma.

Trigger Warning: (Mentions of death of a child. childhood trauma.)

The twins cheerfully, play away in their jammies early in the morning making a mess of the living room, having an imaginary intergalactic battle between them.

Throwing pillows, pouncing on the sofas and one another, annoying Severin who was trying to watch something on the telly.

Sebastian flops down on him. Laughing, seeing the annoyance on his face.

“It’s too early for this!”

Severin grunts, pushing Sebastian off him next to him on the couch. A pillow comes flying into his face.

And Alex laughs.

“Can you two please go play elsewhere?!”

Severin sighs, picking up the pillow off his lap, returning it to Sebastian, pushing it against his chest, giving it back as the child stands on the sofa cushion next to him.

Missing his footing Sebastian falls down on the cushion, frowning at his older brother blaming him for his fall.

“No! You go away! We found this planet first you pesky invader!”

The five year old screams at Severin with his bossiest voice, standing up on the sofa again lifting the pillow Severin gave him, above his head to land it on Severin’s.

Not turning to see what he was doing, knowing his brother well enough, he speaks

“Don’t you dare Sebastian, I will hurt you, and when I do you will go cry to mum like a baby.”

The older Moran threatens his brother sternly, lifting his hand up, resting it against the pillow stopping Sebastian from even trying to bring it down on him.

“Severin, stop!”

Sebastian whinnes flopping down on the sofa again, crossing his arms across his chest, sulking.

Slidding off the cushion he turns to Severin; glaring darkly at him; deciding to continue being a little shit towards his older brother in revenge, Sebastian snatches the remote off his hands, throwing it across the room, screaming.

“GO AWAY! You are ruining our game, Severin!”

Severin’s jaw opens a little watching the little bastard throw the control remote, over Alex’s head making it crash against the wall, landing with such force he was surprised it did not break.

“Sebastian, what the hell?!….”

Severin shouts annoyed. Standing up, he shoves Sebastian out of the way, stalking across the room to pick it up.

“You are really freaking annoying when you bloody want to be, you know?!”

He sighs.

While he leaves his seat, Alex runs up to the couch across from their father’s arms chair joining Sebastian on the sofa jumping on the cushions like two wild monkeys, exploding with laughter, holding hands, pouncing happily.

Returning to the sofa, watching the spectacle Severin rolls his eyes trying not to smile at how cute they looked.

Wrapping his arms around Alexander’s waist he lifts him off his seat, blowing a raspberry on his neck

“You need to get off my seat, lexy”

He chuckles placing the boy back down on the floor.

Alex laughs and runs back to their father’s arm chair grabbing a pillow from the floor next to it, climbing back on the sofa.

“And you”

he says pointing his finger at Sebastian.

“You, need to stop being a brat, and let me watch my show in peace.”

he scolds him.

Frowning, Sebastian tries to bite his finger not liking being told off.

“And you need to GO AWAY!”

He screams again, glaring at his brother.

“Nope I’m not leaving, you know I watch this show every Saturday morning and you need to stop acting out.”

Severin hums, pulling his finger away from the little menace, just in time.

“Behave yourself, what the hell is wrong with you?! honestly,Sebastian”

Placing his hand over the boy’s face he shoves him backwards on the sofa, again making him flop down on his back.

A pillow comes flying across the room, landing to the back of his head.

Alex stands on the arm chair across the room glaring at him.

“Leave Sebby alone, Rin!”

The youngest Moran growls at Severin picking up another pillow, threatening to throw it.

Watching him Severin rolls his eyes and just sits back down, As he does Sebastian jumps on to his knees and starts hitting him.

“Stop! God damn it Sebastian, stop!”

He groans losing his patience with him, grabbing his hands together holding them tightly making him struggle to break free.

“Ow! Ow! Rin let me go!”

Sebastian whines trying to yank his little hands free from the teen's strong grip. His blue eyes welling up with tears.

“Will you stop, being a nuisance and let me watch tv in peace?”

Severin glares raising an eyebrow.

“Let him go! Now!”

Alex screams launching himself towards Severin, lifting his hands up, as if he was going to fight him.

Severin sighs lifting Alexander up by the waist as he comes running, and sebastian by his hands, swinging them both onto the sofa letting go of them, to tickle them having both boys explode with giggles.

Deciding they had enough he lets go of them, sitting down again, trying to continue watching tv, hopefully having his brothers settle down now.

After recovering from the brutal tickling attack Alex and Sebastian continue to wreak havoc around the living room until they hear their father come out of his room and walk towards the stairs.

Hearing the man’s footsteps climbing down the steps, the twins stop playing and run to the couch flopping next to Severin, acting cute , forcing themselves under Severin’s arms. Sebastian sits on one side as Alex does the same on the other, pretending to have been watching tv with their brother the whole time.

The living room a mess around them.

“Morning, boys”

Augustus says coming down the stairs, passing through the living room, to the kitchen.

“Hi, dad!”

They call out in unison

Stopping by the kitchen door he turns to them, making eye contact with the twins.

“Alex, Sebastian, you boys better clean up the mess you’ve made, if you want to have any breakfast at all, you understand?”

He asks, raising an eyebrow at them.

Nodding they both call out.

“Yes dad!”

Watching him disappear into the kitchen. Both boys sigh, sliding down the sofa starting to cleaning up.

As they lifted pillows and the odd toy Sebastian of course being the mischievous little boy he was, tries to start a pillow fight with his brother, again. Hitting Alex with the pillow he held, soon getting hit in return.

Having a small pillow fight they teaming up hitting Severin at the same time laughing. But seeing Severin’s face they know better than to continue.

“I swear to god, if you keep this up I will pack nothing but vegetables in your lunches for a whole month!”

He hisses at them, yanking the pillows away from them, tossing them on the sofa.

Giving up on their mission to annoy their brother, they continue cleaning finishing tidying up the living room, rather quickly.

Hearing their mother call them over for breakfast.

The twins run through to the kitchen, racing each other, giggling, pushing one another, being brothers, playing.

But as soon as they get to the table, their mother sends them straight back out to the bathroom to wash their hands.

Returning to the table and settling down they have a quiet breakfast; a calm down after the mad morning of play they had.

Their father announces the plan of going to the lake for a picnic, and after preparing the food with Severin’s help, Marilyn spends an agonizing 45 minutes trying to get the twins bathed and ready to leave.

Once everyone was packed and ready in the car they finally are on their way to the lake, only 20 minutes away by car.

Severin of course is tortured by his brothers sitting each to his side chattering away, eventually punching each other and him in some dumb game they made up.

It was all fun and games until he got annoyed enough with their sharp little punches, specially Sebastian’s who tried to hit him as hard as he possibly could. And punched them both back, making them cry.

“I told you to leave me alone!”

He hissed, at them ignoring their crying and his mother’s scolding.

Once at the park the twins run around like mad, playing and annoying Severin again, their favorite pass time whenever their older brother is home on holiday.

“You keep throwing stuff at me Sebastian and I will drown you in the lake!”

the older Moran hisses at his younger brother about to lose his patience with him again, after Sebastian throws a pebble at him, landing in his eye.

They were close enough to their parents to have Augusts hear and threatens the boy.

“Sebastian, keep this up, boy and I’ll shove you in the trunk of the car for the rest of the day”

His father says, half joking, but not really, the boys knew he would very much do it.

Not long before, he threatened Sebastian that if he kept wetting the bed, even though it wasn’t him but Alex, and Sebastian just covered for him, that he would have him sleep in the cellar and he did, the day after he said it, making the boy cry half of the night growing terrified of the dark.

It was a pretty traumatic event for him and now he couldn’t sleep without a torch and actually started wetting the bed because of it.

Sighing he leads Alex away from their parents and Severin deeper into the woods.

Their mother tells them not to go too far and they scream back that they won't but soon book it further into the woods giggling as they run, feeling free for a little while, away from constantly being told off.

Eventually their parents sent Severin to fetch them and hearing his voice they decide to run further in, eventually getting to the lake.

Sebastian squeals seeing a little boat tied to the dock.

“Lex! Lex! Look! We can be pirates!”

Sebastian says grabbing his brother's hand, guiding him to the little boat, with a grin.

Alex follows and watches him climb inside. The boat wobbles a bit, making Sebastian giggle. Before he helps Alex on it.

“Yay!” Alex cheers sitting across Sebastian on the boat.

Playing pretend for a while, rocking the boat enough to untie the loosely knotted rope around the dock post, the boat breaks free, floating away.

Not realizing it at first the boys keep playing away happily, looking down the edge of the boat, Alex grins seeing a couple of fishes swimming close to the surface. Grinning he stretches his hand trying to catch one.

Getting to the dock Severin sees his brothers floating away on the boat and panics. Neither one of them knew how to swim.

“What are you doing?!”

Severin shouts at them.

Hearing him the boys look up, realizing they were far away from the shore.

Panicking Sebastian gets up, accidentally rocking the boat too much, causing Alex, who's more than half his body was already hanging off the boat, to fall in.

Splashing as he lands in the lake Alexander screams thrashing around trying to grab Sebastian's hand as the boy panicks trying to grab him and pull him back into the boat.

“Alex! Alex! Alex grab my hand!” The child screams stretching his hand at his brother as much as he can, trying so very hard to grab hold of him.

As Alexander panics he swallows a lot of water, each gulp being worse than the last, until he can not breathe at all.

Seeing Alexander fall Severin Jumps in the water swimming towards them, soon wrapping one arm around his brother's sinking body, pulling him out of the water into the boat again.

Sebastian immediately rushes over to his brother. Big fat, desperate tears rolling down his cheeks

“Alex?” He asks meekly, laying his little hand on his brother's chest, trying to shake him awake.

“Sebastian, move!”

Severin orders him climbing on the boat, immediately attempting CPR on the child.

Seeing he wasn't responding with the CPR Severin grabs the oars and starts rowing back to shore with all his might.

Sebastian meanwhile tries to shake Alex again. Tears rolling down his face a little harder and his voice growing with desperation.

“Alex! Please, wake up!”

The boy sobs confused and terrified for his brother.

“What the hell were you two thinking, huh?! Why did you ever think climbing into a boat ALONE was a good idea?!”

Severin scolds him, panicking himself.

Sebastian doesn't respond he just sobs, holding on to his brother's hand begging him to wake up.

As soon as they reach the shore Severin scoops up both boys and sprints back towards their parents.

Arriving to where Augustus and Marilyn where he screams at them to get in the car, just ranting about Alex falling in the lake and him not breathing.

Not really having time to ask anything further both parents rush to do as Sevrin asks and rush the boy to the emergency room.

During the frantic car ride there Sebastian is so distressed he has an accident.

Holding Alexander's hand, whispering for him to wake up.

Arriving at hospitals Augustus gets out of the car opening the backdoor taking the unconscious boy out of Severin's arms, rushing him inside while Marilyn parks the car and they go meet Augustus in the waiting room.

Everyone is too much of an anxious, worried mess to ask about what happened until after the doctors come out to tell them they couldn't save Alexander.

#sebastian moran backstory #kid sebastian moran #alexander moran #alexander and sebastian headcanons #moran twins #moran siblings #severin moran #brotherly relationship #i do explore the dynamic between the moran siblings a little #moran family headcanon #moran family fanfic #augustus moran #vague childhood memories #childhood trauma #character backstory

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