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light-yaers · 3 years

Text

No Saints: Chapter Eight

This content is explicit and is 18+

Warnings: Graphic sexual content, violence, implied effects of PTSD, death and explicit language.

Read on Ao3 here | Fic Masterpost

Word Count - 5.4k

Chapter Eight

You woke serenely, when sun started to stream into the hull of the Razor Crest. You fluttered your eyes open, taking in the ship as you breathed away your sleepiness. You were pressed against Mando’s chest, focusing on the rhythmic way his ribs moved up and down as he breathed calmly beneath his undershirt.

You indulged in him, pressing your cheek into him and hearing the pitter patter of his heartbeat. This was nice. This was needed. And stars, you savoured every moment you got with him.

You allowed your gaze to trickle over the rest of him, noticing the curves of his muscles that you so craved whenever he was covered head to toe in Beskar. His legs were bare now, with his cargo trousers pushed to the edge of the small sleeping space the two of you had adopted on the hull floor. You thought yourself silly, as you spent many minutes just looking at the way his thighs met his knees, and his knees met his calves, all the way down to his ankles and his sock covered feet.

Then you made your way back up his chest, winding over his torso, his clavicle, his collarbones, his neck—

His jaw.

His jaw. His bare jaw.

Maker, his helmet was off.

You gasped as you flinched on the floor, sitting up immediately and covering your eyes with your fingers. You panicked while he stirred awake, noticing the way you’d shot up from his body and were almost cowering away from him.

As Mando’s eyes opened, he realised why you were suddenly so on edge. He tensed. “Fuck,” He muttered, before immediately hoisting himself off the floor and rushing around to grab his helmet. You kept your eyes locked tight, focusing on the way you were sucking in air and blowing it out of your lungs.

“I didn’t see your face,” You said timidly, as he finally found his helmet and slotted it over his head. Your entire body was buzzing as you sensed him approach you. Stars, that was a close fucking call, and one that could have ended in disaster. You knew what it meant if you were to see his face openly, you knew it went against his vow to the creed.

Maker, you weren’t about to be the reason he couldn’t don his Beskar anymore. No fucking way. You were certain he’d kill you, even if you’d both found comfort in the arms of one another all this time.

“My fault,” He let out bluntly. “I fell asleep without it on,”

You shook your head, not daring to move your fingers from your eyes just yet. “No—I should have been more careful—,”

“You were careful,” He interrupted, before descending to where you sat the floor. Slowly, he reached out to you, curling his calloused fingers round your wrist and tugging your fingers away from your eyes. You kept them clamped shut, breathing shallowly as you sensed Mando’s visor right before you.

He chuckled lightly at your panic, cupping his hands over your cheeks gently. “It’s safe,”

You gently opened your eyes. Relief rushed over your entire body as Mando’s chrome visor filled your vision. Stars, he was beautiful. There was something about his very presence that could calm you now, despite him knowing everything about you; your past, the things you’d done, your names.

You raised your hand to meet one of his own, curling your fingers around his wrist as you leant into his palm. You smiled up at him as the panicked blush faded from your cheeks, enjoying his modulated silence and the comfort from being inside the Razor Crest.

Stars, you could have stayed there forever.

You could have easily laid back down and shut your eyes, pushed your body into his own and settled for the rest of your life. You would have been happy to never return to the outside world; your shop, Nevarro, facing the danger of knowing that Ah’era were reforming and would probably come after you.

But as long as Mando was by your side, you knew you’d be okay—you knew.

“Good morning,” He said quietly. You couldn’t help it, as your smile all but doubled in size. You let out an overwhelmed chuckle.

“Good morning, Mando,” You replied, and then he did something he’d never done before. Slowly, he inched closer to you, until his helmet was pressed against your forehead. You closed your eyes, shivering at the cold Beskar upon your skin, indulging in having him so close, even if his face was covered once more.

Maybe this was him kissing you, pecking you, making himself known to you, without needing to take off his helmet. Maybe this was him telling you that he didn’t want you to go, just as much as you wanted to stay.

“I have to meet with Karga,” He said coarsely, and just like that his helmet was removed from your head. You nodded sullenly, knowing that this was how it had to be. The endless grind, him coming and going from Nevarro, stealing moments at night when both of you knew it was safer.

“I need to get back to the shop, anyway,” You replied. Mando moved his hands from your face then, depositing them on your biceps and hoisting you to standing. You nodded at him in thanks, strolling around the hull once to make sure you had all of your belongings and tugging your shirt back over your head quickly.

Stars, would it always be like this?

With every visit, you grew fonder of the Mandalorian. You grew weaker at the knees, imagining his hands all over you, his lips kissing every portion of skin, his fingers roaming to places that were rarely touched. You still couldn’t admit that you were falling; hard and fast; for the Beskar clad man, but stars, you wanted to. You wanted to scream it.

“When will you be back?” You said timidly, turning to him as you stood by the ramp.

“In a week or so. I’ll contact you,” He said, gesturing to the communicator on your wrist. You smiled sadly, overcome with the want to embrace him, but you didn’t move from your spot. If saying goodbye was always this hard, then you’d only be making it more difficult to indulge in such things.

So, you simply opened the ramp, letting it descend almost to the floor, before you walked out of the Razor Crest. You tried to focus on walking, to just keep going, to not look back—but stars, you had to.

You dared to stop, to look back at the ship on the barren desert of Nevarro, and what met you was enough to keep you going for the days ahead without him. Mando stood in the hull, near the ramp controls, cradling the kid in his arms. He giggled and gurgled as his eyes washed over you, raising one of his tiny arms in a wave.

You waved back, ignoring the utter ache in your chest as the ramp slowly began to ascend once more. Then, you continued forward, swallowing down the pain in your throat as it fought to close up, all the way back to your shop.

The scarred skin on your ankle had been hurting for three days, after Mando left once again. It itched beneath your boots, jarring you as you worked at your desk and tried not to imagine Mando’s face when you zoned out. Maker, you hated to complain at the best of times, but this week you had a lot on your plate.

Not just the aching feeling in your gut for the Mandalorian, or the flesh-eating anxiety of knowing Ah’era were rising once more, but Karga posed an equally as imposing challenge—

He was sending Guild members into the shop for him.

You spotted the first one immediately, some young hunter who looked utterly lost. You’d seen him around Nevarro a few times, fumbling in and out of the bar and around the neighbouring streets in search of whatever. He shuffled into the shop timidly, like a fucking baby lamb, but it was the first thing he said that cemented Karga was to blame—

“How’s business going?” He asked, clearing his throat afterwards as he overdramatically slammed his weapon on your desk.

You answered him in the only way you knew would get through to Karga— “Business is booming,”

Ever since he’d come to see you about Mando, you’d been worried. Maybe Mando was content with shoving it under the rug, but after the oldie almost shot your Beskar clad hunter it was becoming incredibly obvious that feelings had not healed, but in fact dwindled. What it was about, you didn’t know, and Mando seemed reluctant to talk about whatever it could be that had Karga’s knickers in a twist. Stars, he just didn’t care.

After your initial comeback, Karga had continued to send men in on his behalf. Older, more experienced hunters; rogue runaways; Nevarro locals who were in the palm of his hand; but you refused to let them get to you. These were fucking scare tactics. You knew all about them—stars—at one point you’d been used as a scare tactic for Ah’era. Your presence back then had been enough to instil fear into anyone who dared to deny the creed.

But this? From Karga? This was just fucking annoying. Maker, you even had a dream one night that Mando shot Karga dead, straight through his heart, before whisking you away on the Razor Crest to saints knew where—

Stupid stupid stupid stupid.

You were getting to the end of your tether by the time the week was over. You were counting down the hours to when Mando should arrive back on the planet, biting your cheeks to expel the anxious energy you harboured. Stars, you had to tell him. You had to warn him again; you had to make it known that Karga was once again bad news; that he was planning something.

“Excuse me, Miss,” A voice came from the front door. You swiftly looked towards them, hitting his eyes—and that’s when your soul left your body.

He sauntered inside with an unwavering stare, nothing but black boots and a thick belt and scarred knuckles. His beard was patchy, a lot more than it had been seven years prior. His eyes were the same sickly shade of green; resembling vomit, mixed with that yellow that you’d usually associate with bile.

Kalahan—loyal Ah’era member; cut-throat killer; someone that, even when you’d worked for them, killed for them, been trusted by them; you knew to fucking avoid.

“Can you take a look at my gun?” He continued, approaching you at the desk, now. Close enough that he could probably see the reflection of himself in your eyes. You fought back against the fight in you. You fought back against the need and want to gut and decapitate him where he stood. But that would only prove detrimental.

You’d grown. You were older. And he’d only ever seen your face half-covered, shrouded by a hood, or scowling with rage. This face; your face right now; one that over the past seven years had grown soft; he didn’t know it. He didn’t know who you were.

Kalahan’s methods were by far the cruellest of the creed. You’d never hidden the type of monster they’d forced you to be, but Kalahan—he got off on being all sweet and handsome and nice, right before he’d gut someone without a second of hesitation. He was a killer with the face of a gentleman. He was disgustingly vile.

Maker, you wanted to kill him. You wanted to know what it felt like to see him be the one to have the life die from within him. And you wanted to be the reason he ceased to breathe anymore. But you couldn’t, so instead; you smiled.

“Of course,” You said happily, as he politely handed over his blaster. You busied yourself with the mechanics at hand, ignoring his flittering stare over you, your face, your shop, everything that was yours. Stars, you somehow wanted to thank Mando; if it weren’t for you saving his skin and acting like a goddamn weakling, you wouldn’t know how to pretend to be fine this well. Your body was doing everything it could to keep you from failing, from slipping up, but you knew it would be a matter of time before your heart combusted from stress.

“Is the cartridge shot?” He questioned curiously, leaning down on the desk until you were face to face—nose to nose. You avoided his gaze like the fucking plague.

“I don’t think so,” You said honestly, flipping the gun round in your palms and checking the trigger. Your fingers skilfully pried into the trigger compartment, coming across a lodged piece of shrapnel that had imbedded itself inside, halting the trigger. “Ah—there we are,” You muttered, popping the gun down to grab your smaller tools.

“Damn, you found that fast,” He said in awe. “Finding good mechs out here is a fucking challenge,” He chuckled after he spoke, but all it did was cause a huge shiver to run down your spine, making you feel sick. You swallowed down bile.

“You’ve just gotta know where to look,” You hit back with, matching his upbeat energy as not to come off overly suspicious. You began unscrewing the trigger compartment on his blaster, using the tiniest screwdrivers you owned.

He regarded you for a long time, watching closely as you skilfully opened the trigger compartment and went about collecting the shrapnel. Maker, you tried not to flinch when he got even closer to you, peeing up into your face as you ignored his fire like gaze with a ferocity that had burned within you ever since you’d fled Ah’era.

“You got a name?”

You stopped working and stood to full height, looking down at him sternly. For once, he was the one being suspicious. No one asked for names in hunter country.

“It’ll cost you to ask for names around these parts,” You replied strongly, raising your brows at him sceptically, fiddling with a tiny Phillips-head between your fingers. He let out a scoff, rising himself up to your level. He smiled—some sort of playboy smile that was supposed to make him seem charming, or approachable, or not a member of the galaxy’s deadliest creed.

“How’s a name for a name?” He said playfully, sticking out a hand. “I’m Reynard,”

Reynard. Fucking liar.

Of course, he’d use a fake name. He wasn’t stupid enough to reveal himself as who he truly was; Kalahan. It’s not like he knew your real name; he’d only ever called you the Wraith; but you weren’t about to tell him your true name either.

That was reserved for Mando, and only Mando. No one else was allowed to utter those syllables the way his modulated drawl did. No one.

You grabbed his hand strongly, pretending your heart wasn’t trying to crawl out of your chest. “Melissa,” You replied. He shook your hand a few times, looking you dead in the eyes. You were looking out for sheer signs of treachery; his fingers weren’t pressed on your pulse point, which means he couldn’t analyse if you were lying or not. His gun was still lying on the desk in front of you, out-of-action while you removed the shrapnel from behind the trigger. He wasn’t suspicious—not one bit.

It would have put you at ease the smallest bit, if you weren’t already on edge from the fucking week you’d had. This was just the frosting on top of the fucking cake.

Stars—when would people leave you the fuck alone?

“Melissa,” He repeated, before gently removing his hand from yours. Maker, you wanted to vomit. You’d never touched him before; never had skin-to-skin contact with Kahalan, even during those five years of the creed.

You wished he’d died in that explosion you caused. You wished he’d perished in the flames, never to be seen again; never to kill another soul with his bare hands once more. You would have done the galaxy a favour if he’d been one of the members to die. It was a fucking shame. It made you feel responsible for him being alive— which wasn’t a feeling anyone fucking wanted.

You nodded at him, getting back to work on his blaster.

“How long have you been on Nevarro?”

Maker, what the fuck was his problem? You knew Kalahan, you knew he never indulged in small talk like this, at least not back then. He always had that honey-eyed tone in his voice, but his words were used like a weapon; scarcely, only when he wanted to threaten people in a way that left them running for the hills, or their blood running down from a slit in their necks.

It was a good thing you were brilliant at lying. “Three years,” You lied, making a show of tweezing a piece of shrapnel from his gun. “After my partner ditched me, I didn’t know where to go, but I ended up here. I guess I never left,” The words left your mouth easily, unbothered, as if you hadn’t just thought them up on the spot.

“Partner?” He chided, strolling over to the storage boxes. He took a seat on one—Mando’s usual seat. You refrained from balling your fists in anger, focusing on getting this repair over and done with as fast as possible. “As in, business partner? Or... lover?”

Ah. So—that was it.

He was attracted to you.

Maker, kill you now, if you had to pretend to flirt with him the same way you’d done with Karga. You’d much rather stab yourself in the temple with your tiny screwdriver.

You scoffed as you went back to working, feeling your forehead prickle with sweat. “Lovers don’t exist on this side of the galaxy,” You picked out another piece of shrapnel and tested the trigger with the safety on—it wasn’t jammed any longer. You breathed out shallowly as you polished down the grease from the gun, before pushing it back to Kalahan’s side of the desk. “All done,”

He hoisted himself up from the storage boxes slowly, smiling as he approached you. His eyes ate you up, but only provided you with the extensive need to cover up. Maker, you were in overalls, but he was acting like you were wearing fucking lingerie.

“What do I owe you, Melissa?” He asked. You wanted to laugh at the way the fake name sounded coming from his mouth so seriously, but of course you didn’t.

“Seven hundred credits,” You said plainly, reverting back to your usual shop etiquette when it came to payment. Kalahan only nodded, sifting through his pockets and jangling the credits in his hand. You thought he was going to drop them onto the desktop, but he didn’t—he hovered his hand in the air, eyeing your knuckles in wanting.

You swallowed, sticking out your hand stubbornly. He took his time as his other hand grabbed your wrist, curling his fingers around your skin, before he dropped all seven hundred credits into your palm. His fingers lingered and the feeling was enough to burn your insides. You were fighting against every sense you had within you to fucking dropkick this man.

When he eventually moved away and grabbed his blaster, you let out a small sigh. You tugged yourself away from him, busying yourself with putting away your tools. You squatted to the floor, organising your screwdrivers and taking a quick inventory of screws and tacks; but mostly, you were praying he would leave without a word.

The god never fucking answered, as when you stood up once more, Kalahan was leaning against the doorframe, waiting to say something. “Thanks for the repair,” He said sweetly. “I hope I’ll see you around more often, Melissa,”

More often? Not likely.

“I’m settling on this planet in a few weeks,”

Oh, fuck.

“Good luck,” You said, and maybe you meant it. Even though your entire body felt like lead; even though your ears were overcome with a high-pitched noise that you couldn’t locate; even though you now had knowledge that someone from your past—someone dedicated to the creed, someone who would stop at nothing to reform it—was moving to Nevarro; you meant the luck you sent him.

Because Maker, as soon as you had a plan—as soon as you knew what to do, how to do it, and were ready—

You were going to slit his fucking throat.

“See you around, Melissa,” He said. Then he was gone.

You shot your blaster in the firing range all evening, until you were sure your fingers were going to drop right off your knuckles. You waited for Mando’s voice to cut through on the communicator, happy that you’d be reunited with him that evening—but you were also fucked.

Both of you were.

He had Karga on his tail for something. But whatever it was, you had no clue. Karga had a lot of business with a lot of people; there was no telling who betrayed who unless it was spoken outright, instead of gossiped in the wind.

And you—Kalahan was just the beginning of the creed rising to power once again. And if Kalahan was settling on Nevarro, there was a damn good chance that the rest of the creed would as well, even if it was just temporary.

Mando said your name once then, his voice trickling through the communicator roughly. “Can you come to the Crest?” He asked eagerly. Stars, you could hear the want in his voice. It only filled you with more dread.

“I can’t,” You whispered, lowering your blaster and standing in the darkness of your courtyard. “A lot has happened this week... I don’t think it’s safe for me to leave the shop tonight,” Being honest wasn’t your forte, but you were learning. You were learning because of him.

“I’m on my way to you,” He said sternly, dropping his tone back into that of the bounty hunter you first met, almost nine months before. Despite the danger, you were overcome with that warmth that you’d got used to over the past few months. It hit you in the gut like always, spiralling outwards until every limb, every bone, every hair was washed with it.

“Be careful. I think Karga is planning something for you,” You bit your lip.

“Snake in the grass,” Mando replied plainly.

“Bad news,” You whispered. It was silent for a moment, until the slightest breathy chuckle hit your ears from across the comms.

“I’ll be there soon,”

The static faded then, as you tried to just... keep it together. You were hit with a question that you’d asked yourself almost every day for the past seven years, living in this exile—

Why Nevarro? Why did you pick kriffing Nevarro?

Before, you used to be able to joke with yourself, choosing answers surrounding the hot bounty hunters that visited daily, the utter thrill of being able to run your own business, the beautiful weather conditions. None of those answers were the truth, but just an attempt at getting through the fucking grind of this life. You knew the real answer, the real reason, and seeing Kalahan here had just cemented it to be true—

Nevarro was made for people like me.

As if on cue, Mando wrapped his arms around you a few minutes later. He was so good at fluttering through the darkness, at picking your lock and entering the shop alone at night that you couldn’t even hear him anymore; but you could sense him. Like the air got denser and more agitated, the hairs in your arms stuck up as if you were shivering, but you weren’t even cold. No, it was just him—your Mandalorian—back from the dead and the unknown.

“You’re tense,” He whispered, embracing you from behind. His cold Beskar was comforting, offering you support to fully lean back into him. His chest plate was flat against your back, his arms wrapped around your torso, holding you in place as if he depended upon you.

“When am I not tense?” You said in reply, smiling at the way his fingers fiddled with the pockets of your overalls. Mando only gripped you tighter, bringing his helmet in close to your ear.

“When I’m between your legs,” He muttered.

It would have been so easy to melt into him, to let him hold you and sway you and tease you until you were nothing more than a puddle on the floor—his for the taking—but in that moment, nothing could stop the anxiety from eating you up inside.

“We need to talk,” You began, and Mando immediately tensed. Maker, you wanted to hit back with something like who’s tense now? but the moment simply couldn’t call for it. This was serious, this was dangerous; and both of you needed to figure out a plan for the future. “An Ah’era assassin, Kalahan, came into the shop today,”

Mando unfurled himself from you, stepping back and removing you from his embrace. You turned towards him, trying not to frown at the obvious way he’d just recoiled from you. It was just worry, anxiety, fright; nothing else.

“Did he hurt you?” Was the first thing he asked. You let out a scoff, shaking your head slowly.

“He didn’t even recognise me, I don’t think. But he always was a good liar,”

“Are you... okay?” His voice had transformed into so timid and small. He was worried— worried for you. Worried about the creed. The Mandalorian has always appeared to be someone who was purely self-entitled. He killed to live, he hunted to survive, rarely stopping to create lasting relationships.

But this—

This made the breath hitch in your throat. It made you swallow uncomfortably as you felt the vulnerability wash over your entire body. You felt exposed, dirty, weak, an imposter in your own body.

You smiled up into his chrome visor, letting blush tint your cheeks. “Yeah, Mando. I’m okay,”

It was a lie, both of you knew it, but he didn’t press you. Instead, you allowed him to lead you inside. He shut the courtyard door behind him, letting you make yourself comfortable atop your work desk, like you normally did. Your legs dangled off the side, swinging with anxiety as you tried to breathe it all away—in and out, in and out.

Over and over.

A never-ending cycle of your past, present and darkness shrouded future.

You told him about Karga, about the hunters he’d send into your shop. How with every visit, you were simply too stubborn to let him keep getting away with bothering you this way.

“I think I made it clear that I knew it was him,” You said, remembering your words to that young hunter, and how Karga would know you were lying. “The old man is up to something and it involves you, Mando,”

The Mandalorian let out a soft chuckle. “What else is new,” He joked.

Why? Why did he joke when his life was on the line?

Maker, this was the last straw. You wanted to believe that he knew what was at stake, you wanted to imagine that he was safe and fine and everything he deserved to be, but with every joke, every unbothered shrug about the prospect of Karga doing something to him—it only broke you more.

You dropped your head into your hands abruptly, letting out a pained groan. Mando stopped where he stood, only having eyes for you.

“I wish you’d take this fucking seriously, Mando,” You let out suddenly. You were pained, straining as the words forced themselves from your mouth. “What happens if you get gunned down tomorrow? What happens to the kid—what happens to me?”

You’d said too much, but you didn’t fucking care.

“This is a fundamental that comes with the job,” He said sternly. “If I cared about every threat, every attempt on my life, then I’d go insane—,”

“Well, I care,” You spat, jumping down from the desk and striding towards him.

He peered down at you, and you could feel his rage He was seething, not expecting this evening to turn into something so incredibly hostile.

“You should care about yourself. An Ah’era assassin visited you today and all you can think about is fucking Karga,” He said it meanly, cascading his voice out in waves of frustration. You settled your face into a scowl. “Your past is coming back to bite you in the ass,”

Stars, you knew he was right—but he didn’t have to say it like that. Not after everything you’d told him, not after the way he’d seen you collapse at the sight of that creed member in the Crest, not after you just came face to face with someone who would have killed you without question, had he known your true identity after so long.

“Are you so stuck on your unemotional high-horse that you have to deflect everything that concerns you?” The words trickled from your mouth before you had a chance to stop them. Mando faltered, stepping away from you slightly.

You could feel the nastiness in the air, the thickness of the red rage rolling off of both of you. When before you felt that warmth, that comfort, you only felt disappointment from the Beskar clad man stood before you.

“I never asked for this,” He said slowly, rolling the words off his tongue with intention. “I never asked for you and all the shit that follows you around like a plague,”

The breath hitched in the back of your throat. You gulped away the desire to punch him, knowing that Beskar was unforgiving on unprotected knuckles. Maker, you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. You couldn’t believe the way he was talking to you—rejecting you.

You got in close to him then, shoving down all the alarm bells in your body that told you to get away from him. You looked up at him menacingly, portraying everything you felt in a way that you knew would get across to him. You wanted him to squirm. You wanted him to know that he’d hurt you, even if he didn’t give a fuck.

“If I’m such a burden to you, Mandalorian, why don’t you leave?”

He was the one to flinch then, as you heard an abrupt humming noise from beneath his helmet. He stepped back slowly, tilting his helmet up and down your entire body a few times. You didn’t change your expression, opting to stare him down mercilessly and ignoring the pain in your chest.

“Deal,” He said. His voice was gravelly and raw, but the silence after he’d spoken made your body buzz with a feeling that you’d never had before. You’d felt pain—you knew what it was like to be stabbed, tortured, maimed; you also knew what it felt like to inflict that upon others.

Your emotions weren’t as easily manipulated and toyed with, considering you’d spent most of your life pretending you didn’t have them. The Mandalorian had just taken them and flattened them upon the floor of your shop—but Maker, you’d just done the same to him in return.

Mutual destruction with a means to an end.

With a whip of his cape, he left the shop without another word. You found yourself unintentionally listening to the stomp of his boots as he got further and further away outside, heading back to his ship, back to the kid, back to the hull floor where you’d spent nights with him; kissed him, felt him, craved him.

You didn’t weep, you wouldn’t allow it, but Maker—the yell that left your lips was enough to disturb the dust within your shop. It floated up into the air, sticking to your hot skin and dropping onto your tongue when you opened your mouth to breathe out heavily.

You hardly slept. All you saw behind your eyelids was him—Mando—but he was tarnished. You were haunted by images of his death, of him getting cut down to the ground and seeing the killer; Kalahan. You could see your reflection in his gaze, but it wasn’t the you that you’d expected—

It was the Wraith—

And she did nothing but stare as the Mandalorian breathed for the last time.

#din djarin x reader #din djarin #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfic #star wars #star wars fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #x reader #reader insert #fanfiction #ao3 #wattpad #no saints #no saints fic #smut and angst #smut and fluff #hurt and comfort #update

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corancoranthemagicalman · 3 years

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4, 11, or 42 with destiel? I'm thinking intently about Them

Okay so here’s the thing.

I thought, “oh wow 4 (An accidental brush of lips followed by a pause and going back for another, on purpose) will be so interesting!!! I’ve got the perfect scene in mind!!

Wait. Wait I kind of want to establish what sort of mindset Dean is in for this to happen. Okay, let me establish the scene and the mindset. Well, I don’t wanna vaguely reference this thing so let me just—

15k later here is your accidental brush of the lips followed by a pause and going back for another. If you well and truly do not want to read this whole thing (and I shan’t blame you) if you skip to the second line break, you’ll have the scene. Like, it probably could have stood on its own but this happened.

Read it On AO3 (or skip to the good stuff undercut)

50 Kisses Prompt List 💕💕

The motel room was quiet. Dean was grateful to be miles away from Florida. The Midwest roads were more familiar. Baby took every inch of road greedily, happily, without cars burning rubber all around her. Steepling his hands on the table in front of him, Dean felt his leg bounce with anxious energy. The small, clay dolphin stared back at him with beady eyes.

He looked up when the bathroom door opened, Cas stepping out without a word. His freshly washed hair clung to his skin. The wound on his shoulder was bright red and raw, but healing. Dean pressed his lips together.

“I can patch that for you.” He nodded to Cas’ shoulder. It was probably the first thing Dean had said to Cas directly ever since they had left Marissa’s apartment two days ago.

Cas paused in his trek toward the bed that held his duffle bag and a sleeping Jack. He inhaled slowly, grabbing the bandages before moving to sit at the table beside Dean. Their knees were a hair’s breadth from knocking against one another. Wordlessly, he handed Dean the gauze and ointment before shifting to place his shoulder between them.

Dean took the ointment, squelching some of it into his palm. He exhaled shakily, slathering it gently over Cas’ wound. Cas barely winced and yet the muscle of his arm felt tense beneath Dean’s hand.

When Dean began to wrap his shoulder, Cas spoke. “Dean,” he called in that gentle, charged way of his. He didn’t continue until Dean could tear his gaze away from the angry wound, look into those blue eyes. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Dean pushed, reaching for the scissors so that he could cut and secure the wrap. “That’s what we do. Save people. Hunt things.”

“Dean,” Cas whispered, putting his hand to Dean’s wrist and halting his movements. “You saved my life. Jack’s life.” He sighed. “I don’t care that you think this a thankless occupation. I thank you.”

“Cas,” his name felt ripped from Dean’s throat. It felt desperate. Just as desperate as he had felt in that fucking dungeon months ago. A lifetime ago. Where Dean was speechless but begging Cas not to go. Not to say that. Not to bring them both past the point of no return by acknowledging this.

But it was there. The elephant was named. It was stampeding in Dean’s chest and rioting. Thundering and booming in his ears and sending lightning through his veins. They were here and Dean couldn’t ignore it. Or he could—he could—but he had been ignoring it. Ignoring it by pretending it didn’t mean anything. By saying that there was no elephant and thinking that Cas would just be here.

Cas’ gaze flickered over Dean’s face like a waning candle. He was looking for something. Dean wished he knew what the hell Cas was searching for. He would give it to him. He’d give Cas anything he wanted—

He knew what Cas wanted. Cas fucking told him what he wanted.

Whatever he was searching for, he didn’t find. Or maybe he found what he was expecting. Nothing new. Nothing new from Dean who just refused to acknowledge his best friend’s love confession. His dying love confession.

“We appreciate it, Dean.” He said finally. “Not only all the people you save, but Jack and I. We appreciate you, Dean.”

“I know how you feel, Cas.” Dean spoke sharply, perhaps a bit callously. Cas didn’t flinch though. He looked goddamn resigned.

Cas sighed, “I know you do.” He smiled sadly. An echo of that night. “I told you.” Looking at his hands in his lap, Cas huffed a laugh under his breath. He pulled his shoulder away from Dean, straightening in his seat. “Regardless, you know what I think of you. You know that I…”

Dean swallowed heavily. “Yeah, Cas. I know.” Dean reached for the supplies on the table, fingers attempting to catch the gauze tape in his grip. Instead, the tape rolled, threatening to fall off the table’s edge. Dean reached forward thoughtlessly, not realizing he was leaning into Cas’ space until he was there and then—

Soft.

Cas’ lips were soft even with a barely-there brush of their lips. Dean pulled back, the tape forgotten as it clattered to the floor. Quiet enough that it didn’t wake a sleeping Jack, but loud in Dean’s ears. Cas looked at Dean with wide eyes, crystal blue attempting to peer into Dean’s soul.

Dean rested his palm on the table, his forearm brushing against Cas’ bare skin. Inhaling sharply, Dean leaned in again, this time with purpose, tilting his head and brushing his nose along Cas’ cheek.

A sharp inhale from Cas as his eyes fluttered shut. Dean could almost feel it against his own eyes. Something like a butterfly kiss. Parting his lips slowly, Dean tilted his chin until he could feel Cas’ lips beneath his again. Dean’s lips pressed into a firm line, a reassuring pressure against Cas. Cas gasped, shuttering and opening his mouth for Dean to press in deeper.

Taking the plunge, Dean held Cas’ face in his hands, fingers clutching at Cas’ cheeks as Cas, in turn, grasped at his wrists and held him in place. Dean returned Cas’ gasp, inhaling the breath from Cas’ mouth. He could feel his mouth quiver and his body shake where he held himself against Cas.

When they pulled apart—however long it was—Dean held his forehead to Cas’. A lump formed in his throat, closing off his attempt at words. “Cas—”

The pad of Cas’ right thumb swiped at Dean’s cheek, taking him by surprise. He sucked in a shaking breath, opening his eyes to watch as Cas gently swabbed at his cheek. Those damnable tears—the tears Dean couldn’t get out of his head for months—were present in Cas’ eyes. They made his gaze look like an ethereal, shimmering pool.

Dean had seen those tears every time he closed his eyes. Every nightmare he had. But in all of that terror he had experienced in that moment, he had forgotten what Cas was saying. That Cas said he was happy. That the Empty—the Shadow—whatever the hell it was—only took Cas when he was happy.

And now here he was. Happy. Happy enough to cry about it, but without the looming threat of a deal or a god or anything that could take him away from Dean.

“You can’t leave,” Dean whispered, voice scraping a raw path up his throat. “You can’t, Cas. I won’t survive it again.”

“I swear that I will never willingly leave your side,” Cas sighed, fluttering his eyes shut and leaning to press another sweet and slow kiss to Dean’s lips. When he drew back, Dean felt life breathe back into him again. Inhaled it, gobbled it, choked on it until his tears came anew. “I promise, Dean.”

Dean choked on a wet laugh, stealing another soft kiss that Cas was there and offering. “I want you to stay.” He whispered his confession into Cas’ mouth, opening the kiss further, deepening it further. Tame, but reaching. “Please stay.”

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.” Cas sighed, fingers raking through the short hairs against Dean’s neck with one hand and his right hand clutching in an achingly familiar way against Dean’s shoulder. Dean steadied himself by gripping at Cas’ waist, holding him to the edge of his seat and meeting him halfway.

“God, I love you,” Dean laughed, ducking his head and peering at Cas from beneath his lashes. “I love you.” He said again. Because he could. Because he could stare at this elephant and call it by its name, parade it about and drape it in bright colors with pride.

Cas smiled and it reached his eyes. Dried up his happy tears and flashed his gums. “I know,” he spoke in that gentle rasp of his, like the purr of Baby’s engine.

Dean laughed again, quiet and mindful of Jack. “Oh, you’re such a bastard,” he swallowed Cas’ low chuckle, felt it in his chest, and hungrily asked for more. Cas hummed into his open mouth, a satisfied noise that Dean hoped to hear every day for the rest of his goddamn life.

Ramble On drew them away, Dean’s phone lighting up on the table and alerting him to a call. He sighed, pressed a tight-lipped kiss to the corner of Cas’ mouth for good measure before answering his phone.

“Hey, Sammy.” He rasped, his voice low and gravel-filled. Dean cleared his throat between his words and Sam’s.

“Hey, I didn’t wake you, did I?” Sam asked softly, his little brother’s concern near palpable.

Dean cleared his throat again for good measure, flickering his gaze to Cas. “Nah, I was up. What’s up?”

Sam gave a relieved-sounding sigh. “Finally finished the leg up to the rendezvous. Garth was pretty excited. I think it’s going to work out.”

Leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes, Dean ran a hand over his face. “Good. That’s good,” he answered, and he meant it. He felt fingers intertwine with his own and looked to Cas in surprise. Almost naturally, Dean squeezed his grip on Cas’ hand.

“Marissa’s walking better,” Sam informed Dean. “Alpha healing worked out pretty well. Sometimes I forget how good of a shot you are.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean huffed, but couldn’t keep his lips from quirking into a smile.

Sam laughed on the other end of the line and Dean could imagine his eyes crinkling with that puppy dog look of his. “Nothing, old man,” he said affectionately. "D’you guys wanna meet up in Sioux Falls? We could visit Jody and the girls.”

“Sounds good to me,” letting out a sigh, Dean turned to face Cas fully. “Claire and Jack can catch up. I’m sure you and the book club have got a new chapter to gush over.”

Dean could see Sam’s rolling eyes at the remark, but Sam let it slide. “And what are you gonna do?”

Dean grinned, pulling Cas’ hand up to his face, just pressing his lips on Cas’ knuckles for a moment. “I could go for a midnight cruise.”

Cas’ eyes sparked, smile warming like caramel under the soft motel lights. He squeezed Dean’s hand in return.

“Alright. I’m checking into a motel for the night. I’ll call you guys in the morning when I’m on the road.”

“See ya then,” Dean signed off, removing the phone from his ear to hang up. He swiped the red button before turning to face Cas. “I know you and the kid usually share a bed but—” he started.

Cas chuckled under his breath. “I think I might be persuaded.” He teased, dominating eyebrow arching on his forehead in silent challenge.

“I can be very persuasive,” Dean retorted, leaning again to press another soft, earth-shattering kiss to the lips of an angel.

#ask c #requests #jitter-bugss #IT JUST KEPT GETTING LONGER I AM SO SO SORRY #I WAS LIKE IMMA DABBLE SOME BASIC PLOT AND BS IT #BUT THEN THE PLOT DIDNT BS IT???M #and I didnt even have a full case in here either #like I STILL skipped to the good bits #well dang #I fully assed it #spn #spn fics #ask game

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radioactivepeasant · 4 years

Text

Fic Prompts: Folklore Friday

This is actually an unfinished short story that I wrote three years ago. So you may notice that it’s a little different from my current writing style in some ways. It’s been edited a wee bit before posting, mostly proofreading stuff, but this is an urban fantasy short I was working on years back about a young man who accidentally becomes king of the goblins. He really really does not want to be king of the goblins.

He never should have taken the detour that night: that was the source of all his troubles.

Work had been brutal, with a grand total of ten patients either screaming over the phone about the charge for their appointment, or trying to convince him that the doctor had approved a kind of medicine that he most certainly had not prescribed. Of course, since he was “just a receptionist”, they all assumed they could bully him into agreeing with whatever they wanted. Admittedly, by the time he had clocked out for the day, Seth Jefferson Jr. had had just about all the frustration he could take.

All he really wanted to do was go home, sit on the couch, and not talk to anyone for the next three hours. So when he spotted five or six scowling young men congregating around the only streetlight on his normal route home, he decided to take the path of least resistance. Seth had never cut through the ratty, overgrown park before, but it would only add a few minutes to his commute. It seemed like a better idea than trying to navigate around the men up ahead, at least. He hopped the fence and continued on his way, hands in his pockets.

Seth kicked through a pile of leaves and discarded beer cans, wrinkling his nose. Midsummer Park had been a very nice place once, when he was young. It hadn’t been the most popular destination, but there had been a certain charm to the way the flowers had been planted in spirals around the tree trunks. The flowers were gone, now. Nobody had bothered to do any landscaping there for years, and the plants grew as they pleased now.

Seth pulled his coat a little closer to his neck, shivering. The park was quiet, save for the soft chirps of crickets and the occasional frog. His own footsteps sounded unbearably loud as he walked, as if he was trespassing. He could not shake the feeling that someone or something was watching him. He hoped it wasn’t the men from the sidewalk.

The toe of his sneaker met the thin stalk of a Clitocybe nuba with a barely audible plop. Seth glanced down at the mushroom, then caught sight of a large, ugly toad watching him from the shelter of another mushroom a few inches away. Gross.

There was a whole ring of the fungus, extending perhaps ten feet in diameter. Some might have thought of old legends and superstitions and walked around it, but Seth had no time for fairytales. Cold and annoyed at having to go out of his way, he stepped over the mushroom he’d kicked and moved on through the center of the circle. That was a mistake.

Instantly, Seth knew that something was terribly wrong. His feet were frozen to the dying grass as though they’d grown roots. His arms hung heavy at his sides, coated in an icy numbness from his shoulders to his fingertips. Panic gripped his lungs, and he strained to breathe. His eyes could still move, and he cast them about wildly, looking for the source of his paralysis.

The toad who had been sitting at the edge of the mushroom ring hopped forward with slow, squelching motions before coming to rest at Seth’s feet. Its eyes shone an uncanny gold, and then before Seth’s eyes, it began to change.

The toad grew in size until it was near the height of a large dog, then it straightened to stand on its back legs. The toadskin fell away like a discarded poncho, and left the most preposterous figure Seth had ever seen.

It was covered from its head to its cloven hooves in short, coarse hair or fur, most of which was covered by a very ugly embroidered tunic and breeches. Long, tangled hair hung down around the person’s shoulders, sprouting from a skull that sported horns. Horns of all things! Seth registered all this in silence, mostly owing to the fact that he was not able to open his mouth.

“Well well!” the strange figure said, and Seth’s heart skipped a beat at the eerie whispery sound. “Not many humans get stuck in these anymore! I wonder who we’ve got to thank for that? Your internet? Probably your internet.”

They leaned down to peer into Seth’s eyes. “How old are you? Twenty-two? Twenty-four? Old enough to know better. Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s not nice to walk through a fairy ring?”

You’re kidding me. Seth thought. Fairies? As in pixies and flowers and little glittery wings on kids’ dolls? Yeah right. This guy looks more like a demon.

As if they’d read the human’s thoughts, the satyr-like figure snorted, twitching their pointed ears.

“Now don’t tell me you thought all fairies were dainty little girls wearing flower petals? Human exaggeration: utterly ridiculous.”

Seth decided that he had to be hallucinating this. He’d probably slipped on one of those empty beer cans and struck his head on a rock or something. Now he was dreaming up some pseudo-mythological weirdness. Might as well play along until he woke up, right?

Seth’s more logical side pointed out that there was no evidence that he’d taken a fall of any kind, but Seth was not prepared to acknowledge that the satyr existed. Neither was he prepared to follow the line of reasoning that said the satyr might be a figment of his imagination, and that he might be standing in a field staring at nothing.

“Fairies, huh?” he croaked. He was a little surprised that his mouth was able to move at all, as it had been stuck shut only moments before. He coughed, and swallowed a few times in an attempt to strengthen his voice.

“I’m guessing that saying I don’t believe in fairies isn’t going to make you fall down dead.” he said dryly.

The satyr performed an odd little caper and cackled.

“No indeed! I don’t know why that idea caught on, but it’s not true.” They paused, and glanced slyly at Seth out of the corner of their eye. “In fact, saying I don’t believe in fairies usually results in a goblin being born.”

Abruptly the look of amusement dulled into something closer to flat annoyance. “There’s been quite a population boom in the Umbralands recently, as a matter of fact. You humans should stop telling your young that we aren’t real.”

This struck Seth as slightly amusing, but he said nothing. Whether he was dreaming, hallucinating, or actually experiencing this -- which had to be impossible. Fairies and Goblins had no place in modern, rational society! -- he’d been standing in the mushroom circle far too long. Seth needed to get home!

“I was never the fairytale type,” he said shortly, “Exactly what happens now?”

He hoped his tone conveyed what his frozen body language could not: that he was tired, hungry, and not in the mood to put up with any magical monkeyshines from this decidedly odd figure who had so rudely interrupted his Friday evening.

The satyr studied him a moment, as if they were trying to measure the man’s personality with their eyes alone. They paced with an odd, rollicking gait, whistling merrily through Their teeth.

They looked jolly enough, but there was something about them that made Seth’s chest tighten with a kind of fearful caution. Apparently, his body knew something he didn’t, and was classifying the satyr as a threat.

Perhaps it was the knowledge that things like satyrs just weren’t supposed to exist. There was a certain level of aporia spreading through his mind, suppressing his thoughts and reactions until there was nothing left but an unending hum and an anxious awareness of what was happening around him.

“What should we do with you?” the satyr mused, beginning to pace a loping circle around Seth.

“In the past, we used to set impossible tasks for interlopers. Or, I could keep you here, dancing uncontrollably for a year and a day or until someone figured out you were missing and called your true name. But that’s all pretty standard fare.”

They came to a stop just behind Seth’s left shoulder, and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. Seth wished he could move, even just his arms so that he could protect the vulnerable stalk of veins and vertebrae.

Come on, Seth, he tried to reason with himself, It’s a goat-person. Not a vampire. It probably won’t drink your blood. But then again, Seth didn’t know anything about goat-people. Who was to say it wouldn’t try to eat him? It -- he? they? -- had been pretty menacing thus far.

He heard the satyr take a deep breath, then out of the corner of his eye he saw them walk around to stand in front of him again. They were smiling, and right away Seth decided he didn’t much like the look of that smile.

“I’ll tell you what, human. Since it’s late, and you’re probably tired, let’s do this: if you guess my name, I’ll sweep this under the rug and we can both pretend it never happened.”

Oh that just screamed “suspicious”. Even if he wasn’t familiar with a lot of folktales, Seth knew Rumplestiltskin, and he had a bad feeling about this seemingly-innocuous guessing game. Despite his better judgment, however, it seemed like this might be the only way out of this stupid mushroom ring.

“What’s the catch?” he rasped.

The satyr blinked slowly, then shrugged. “I suppose if you fail, I’ll get to set an impossible task for you after all,” they said innocently.

Seth muttered some choice words under his breath and stared very hard at the goat-person. “How many guesses do I get?” he asked shrewdly.

“I’m feeling generous. I’ll say five.”

Noticing Seth’s disgusted expression, the creature bared surprisingly sharp teeth in a slightly aggressive smile and leaned close.

“Just be glad I picked guess my name and not a game of riddles. You don’t look like you’d be very good at those.”

Well, that much was true, but Seth wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of hearing it confirmed. He racked his brain for bizarre and fantastical names. Rumplestiltskin could be dismissed out of hand, at least, as could most of the Tolkien-esque names that presented themselves to him after a few moments.

“Is it Mephistopheles?” he asked first.

“No. It’s a good name though, I’ll keep it in mind if I ever change mine.”

“Fine.” Seth squinted and looked for another. “Pan?”

The satyr narrowed their eyes. “It’s because of the hooves, right? That’s profiling and I resent it.”

Well, safe to say “Pan” was not their name. Seth tried hard to think and guessed again.

“Wormwood?”

“Okay,” the other answered with gritted teeth, “Now you’re trying to insult me.”

“Hey, I’m working with what I have, here!” Seth protested. “What about, er, Fauna?”

The satyr didn’t look at all impressed. “Well that’s not very creative, is it? A bit more feminine than I prefer, too. Try again.”

Seth’s remaining guess met with similar results. Frustration bubbled up inside him. It had been rigged from the start. He’d known that, of course, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still get angry about it. Seth was at least glad that his face was still mobile. He twisted his lips into a vicious scowl, which he directed at the smug satyr.

“Well that’s my five guesses, used up. You might as well tell me what it was,” he growled.

“Of course, where are my manners?” said the satyr sarcastically. They swept into a low bow with a flourish of their hand. “They call me Chicanery. Lord Chicanery Black, if you require a title and surname.”

Seth was furious. “And how would I have been able to guess something like that?” he demanded.

“You wouldn’t,” Chicanery answered carelessly, “That’s the whole point. But while we’re doing introductions, what’s your name, human?”

Seth nearly said his name, but at the last second changed his mind. He had no idea why, but it seemed like a bad idea to just casually give the creature his full name. Was it something he’d read once?

“Jefferson.” he answered. Chicanery nodded.

He cracked his bulging knuckles and leaned on Seth’s shoulder in a very irritating fashion.

“Well, Jeff, you failed the test. So now I get to set a task for you.”

“No.”

Chicanery looked astonished, as though it had never actually occurred to him that someone would refuse to play along. For just a moment, a flash of anger crackled -- quite literally crackled as if it were a spark of electricity -- in his eyes, and a chill ran up Seth’s spine. Perhaps it wasn’t such a good idea to antagonize the creature.

“Impossible task, or stay here in the ring until you die of either starvation or old age. Your choice.” he said coldly.

“That isn’t fair.”

He knew it was childish, but Seth couldn’t help pointing it out. He had a job, a life, and none of this made any sense at all.

“If life was fair, I wouldn’t be stuck here guarding an abandoned dance ring,” Chicanery answered dryly. “Look, if it makes you feel any better, you’ll be rewarded if you actually pull it off. You need a car? Or a better job?” he stared pointedly at Seth’s scrubs.

Seth squinted at Chicanery, trying to gauge just how much of the odd being’s words were truth. It wasn’t as if he had a precedent for this to measure it against. The promise of a car was tempting, though he didn’t know how he’d afford the gas. No, best not to get ahead of himself. He didn’t know what Chicanery wanted him to do yet. Still, he was more than ready to get out of this fairy ring.

“What exactly did you have in mind?” he asked warily.

Looking immensely pleased with himself, Chicanery hopped back a pace and spread his arms wide.

“See? Was that so hard?” he asked. Then he leaned in again. “You’re going to help me run a little errand. It’s just some housekeeping. And by “housekeeping”, I mean you’re going to help me usurp the throne of Unter Kobold, king of the Umbralands. I assume you have a gun, or can get one?”

“What.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Chicanery held out one of his calloused, hairy hands and Seth found that he could move again. “Do we have a deal, or am I leaving you here?”

Well, when you put it that way, Seth thought bitterly, and he gingerly shook the satyr’s hand.

It felt like being grabbed by a pinecone. Something stung his skin and the human pulled his hand away with a hiss of pain. A shimmering mark in the shape of a leaf curled outward across his palm with the same faint crackle he’d heard before.

“You’re free to go now, Jefferson,” Chicanery said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “We start planning tomorrow.”

The moment Seth stepped out of the mushroom ring, the satyr was gone. In his place, the ugly toad from before sat, watching him. Seth shuddered and hurried home as quickly as he could. As much as he desperately wanted to convince himself that none of that had been real, he could not deny that he’d only lost five minutes by the time he got home, and the leaf-mark on his palm did not wash away.

Seth kicked off his shoes and did not bother to change into pajamas as he fell into bed. He could only hope that the satyr would forget about him after a few days.

He awoke the next morning to the sound of someone moving around in his kitchen. Seth felt around for the baseball bat he kept next to his bed, then eased his bedroom door open. Now he could hear voices.

“-well we can’t do that. No no, that’s much too much pepper. See? It looks weird now.”

Something gurgled and croaked, but Seth couldn’t make out whether or not it was words. He was more concerned with the fact that the first voice had belonged to Chicanery Black.

Seth marched into the kitchen, bat upraised, to find the satyr and a grotesque little creature that appeared to be a cross between a crocodile and a sugar glider sitting on his shoulder. They were bent over the stove, observing eggs frying in a pan. Chicanery turned with a grin.

“Ah! Morning, partner. Collywobble and I were just debating on how much pepper humans usually put in their eggs. How much do you put in?”

Flabbergasted, Seth’s mouth worked soundlessly for a few minutes before he gasped, “None! And how did you even get in here? Don’t you guys have to be, like, invited or something?”

“That’s vampires,” Chicanery shoved a forkful of boiling hot egg into his mouth and spoke around it. “Which don’t exist, by the way.”

“Of course,” Seth muttered sarcastically. “Because that’s much weirder than a satyr frying eggs in my kitchen.”

Chicanery did not grace this with an answer. He shoveled the other egg out onto a plate in an ugly lump, and handed a fork to Seth.

“Today,” he said, “You’re going to go to your public library and look up everything humans ever wrote about goblins and gargoyles and how to kill them.”

Seth seriously considered making a snide remark about homework, but decided not to push his luck. If the satyr had no trouble getting into his house, there was no telling what else he could do. He groaned and set his baseball bat down so he could eat.

“You weren’t going to stay here, were you?” he asked, gagging on the amount of pepper in the rapidly cooling egg. “I mean, is this going to be a regular thing?”

Chicanery glanced at the diminutive creature on his shoulder and back at Seth.

“I’ll stay until the task is completed.” he answered, confirming Seth’s worst fears. He leaned casually against the counter and raised a hand to scratch Collywobble behind the ears. “You know, you’re taking all this remarkably well. The last human I tried to recruit went stark raving mad, you know. They had to cart him away after he went goblin hunting in a supermarket. After an experience like that, it’s nice to find a human with a good, stretchy mind.”

Collywobble made a wet, barking sound in what was presumably agreement. Seth made a face and gestured to it.

“Okay, what is that?” he sighed.

“She,” Chicanery corrected, “Is Collywobble. She’s a goblin, and you’d better get used to her because you’ll be seeing a lot more of them.”

“Why?” Seth asked, already certain he would not like the answer.

Chicanery looked at him as if he’d lost his senses.

“One does not simply overthrow a goblin king without minions!”

Collywobble snuffled agreeably at this, then hopped down to the table. Seth decided that this was altogether too much weirdness for one morning, and that he’d be better off at the library. He stood and opened the refrigerator, looking for a stiff drink to chase away the taste of burnt and over-peppered egg.

Something like a winged porcupine held up a three-toed paw in greeting and he slammed the door.

“Why.” was all he managed to say.

Chicanery opened the refrigerator again and brightened.

“Oh! Widdershins!” he said, “So you found the place after all. What do our friends at the armory say?”

“I’m done.” Seth threw his hands into the air and left the kitchen. This was ignored by Chicanery, Collywobble, and Widdershins.

After discovering one more goblin in his clothes hamper and one in the closet, Seth threw on his shoes and stormed out of the house, locking it behind him. It likely wouldn’t do any good at all, seeing as Chicanery and his minions had just sort of materialized to begin with, but it gave him a slight sense of satisfaction.

#folklore friday #original fiction #original characters #original story #urban fantasy #fairytales #fairy rings #short story #long post #Chicanery Black. He's a brat.#Seth has so many annoyances ahead of him #fic prompts #writing prompts #someday i might finish this but i have no idea what was supposed to come next

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mrs-berry · 4 years

Text

Concert

By mrs_berry

Read on AO3!

Part 1 of ML Love Square Fluff Week 2020

@lovesquarefluffweek

Summary: Marinette is given two concert tickets for Jagged Stone’s concert, but who will she end up taking with her?

Word Count: 1598

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Jagged Stone was the best. Not only had he commissioned Marinette again, but on top of paying her for her creative services, he gave her two free VIP tickets to his concert!

So, of course, the first thing she did was squeal and freak out about it to Tikki.

The next thing she did was invite Alya to go with her.

The third thing she did was demote Alya from best friend, because Alya had turned down her invitation (how dare she!) due to “prior engagements.”

Which Marinette knew was a load of bologna.

The truth was Alya was being Alya. She was being her devious, cunning, sneaky self and plotting something.

It became even more obvious when literally everyone she asked had given her some bullshit excuse about being unable to make it. Seriously, who would turn down a free VIP Jagged Stone concert ticket?!

No one, that’s who!

After asking everyone she was good friends with and receiving more excuses than the ones she constantly gave out as Ladybug, she was down to her last resort.

Well, maybe not her last resort. Because that would be Lila. With Chloé being a close second last, of course.

Finally, after much persuasion and reassurance (and downright peer pressure), Marinette asked her crush to attend the concert with her.

To absolutely no one’s surprise, he gave a resounding yes and proceeded to smother her with gratitude and excitement. (Though how he happened to have a free schedule and gain permission to attend was a real mystery—one that will never be revealed.)

Suddenly, Marinette couldn’t remember why she had been reluctant to ask him in the first place. He was as big a fan of Jagged Stone as she was, for goodness sake!

“Okay, so my bodyguard will pick you up at 6 o'clock?”

Oh yeah. She was going to spend several hours of her evening with him. Alone. With only her foot to shove in her mouth if she became an awkward stuttering hot mess around him.

Great.

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

Hours later, after school, Marinette tried to count her blessings and good luck as Alya did her hair and makeup while Marinette tried to re-teach herself the French language.

“Sit still, girl, or I might burn you with the curling iron,” Alya scolded, as Marinette was currently fidgeting in attempt to soothe her nerves. Smirking, she added, “We wouldn’t want Adrien to think you got a hickey from someone other than him, hm?”

“Ack-Alya!” Marinette choked in exasperation at her friend’s teasing. It was certainly not helping with her already fried nerves.

Alya proceeded to give her a pep talk— pointing out why Marinette was amazing, reminding her to be her friendly self, and reassuring her that Adrien was as scary as a cute golden retriever puppy.

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

While Marinette appreciated her best friend’s words, it turned out whatever advice and encouragement she had received had conveniently drained out of her mind. Only panicked and anxious thoughts remained as Adrien greeted her before leading her to the car and opening the door for her.

“T-thanks,” she managed to squeak out as she practically tripped and fell onto the car seat.

Mercifully, Adrien either didn’t notice her disastrous clumsiness or respectfully decided to ignore it in order to spare her feelings or dignity (if she even had any left—at this point it was up for debate).

In the car, they sat in semi-awkward silence for about three seconds before Adrien requested that his bodyguard put the music back on.

To her surprise (though maybe she should not have been surprised, considering their destination), Jagged Stone’s music flowed through the speakers.

Almost inexplicably, Marinette felt her body relax. The tenseness in her shoulder dissipated. A smile spread across her lips. And before she could consciously stop herself, she was humming along to one of her favourite songs.

Adrien took notice of this, of course, and felt greatly relieved. He always worried over Marinette, especially when she became all stiff and weird around him—as if she was afraid of him or perhaps disliked his company. He always bottled up those anxious thoughts and chalked it up to being paranoid, but maybe one day he would broach the subject. Today was not the day, though, as he was determined to keep a happy and fun mood.

With an adoring smile on his lips, he began humming along with her.

Marinette sputtered, looking at him as if she just realized he was there.

Biting her lip, she gave a shy smile, before starting to hum again.

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

The concert was the best; deafening rock music boomed through their chests and rattled their hearts as they stood near the stage. Lights flashed, glow sticks waved, fists pumped, and the audience screamed and danced to powerful guitar chords and lyrics.

Marinette and Adrien were in close proximity to each other, often finding themselves pressed up against one another as bustling bodies moved to the music.

Marinette could feel the heat radiating from Adrien (and other people, but they did not matter) and felt like fainting from happiness and utter bliss.

Adrien experienced similar feelings, though perhaps not from the same reasons as his short friend.

Marinette and Adrien sang to their heart’s content at the top of their lungs as they enjoyed every vibration, every chord, every lyric, and every moment of this concert.

(Marinette also enjoyed every second of contact with Adrien.)

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

After the concert had ended, the duo made their way over to the VIP section of the concert, where they would be able to meet their idol.

Voices raspy and ears ringing, Marinette and Adrien found themselves gushing excitedly over the best concert of their lives, while they waited in line to meet Jagged.

The moment Jagged Stone spotted Marinette, he excitedly waved his arms at her.

Marinette beamed and greeted him enthusiastically.

“Marinette! It’s mighty rock ‘n’ roll that you could make it out here t'night!” he exclaimed enthusiastically.

Marinette went to give him a handshake, but he opted for a bone-crushing hug instead.

Flushed, but happy, she continued beaming as he released her from his vice grip.

“And who’s this, hmm? Oh, wait, you look familiar,” he observed, scratching his beard. “Is this yer boyfriend? Well, I definitely approve, seems like a nice lad for ya!”

Marinette went from beaming to red lobster in milliseconds.

“Agrestien—Adrigeste—ugh—Adrien Agreste is not—he is my friend!” she vehemently denied, struggling to make sensical words form from her lips. “And fan! A huge fan! Of yours, I mean! Not me. Not my fan.”

Marinette facepalmed at her own inability to be an articulate human being around her friend.

Adrien smiled sheepishly, possibly too star struck to have noticed the spazzy mess that stood beside him.

“Riiiight then,” Jagged drawled in a tone that clearly didn’t believe her denial for a second. “Would you like a hug as well? Or perhaps a handshake? Maybe a signed CD?”

Adrien wordlessly nodded rapidly. It seems Marinette was not the only inarticulate one at the moment.

Jagged beamed and swept the tall blond model into a bone-crushing hug identical to the one he had given Marinette.

Afterwards, Jagged took the CD that had mysteriously appeared in Adrien’s hand and signed it—signing it right next to Marinette’s signature.

He also signed Marinette’s Jagged Stone concert shirt, since she had not brought a CD along with her and said she didn’t need a free CD since she already owned all his albums.

By the end of their meeting, Adrien was pretty sure he would melt into a happy and fulfilled puddle at any moment.

Marinette felt the same way, but for slightly different reasons.

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

The Gorilla drove the two teenagers home.

Both of them switched between speaking animatedly about their night and daydreaming about how surreal the whole event had been.

Once they reached the bakery, Adrien walked Marinette to the door, while his bodyguard waited for him in the car.

“Thank you so much for inviting me tonight,” he spoke quietly with complete sincerity. “It was the most fun I’ve ever had. I don’t know how, but I’ll definitely make it up to you, I promise.”

Marinette’s heart lurched at him feeling like he owed her. He was too sweet and he certainly didn’t owe her a thing.

“Oh, no, you don't—please don’t feel like you owe me anything! The tickets were free and I am so glad you were able to come!” Somehow, her strong feelings on the subject made her more coherent than she had been all night. Perhaps knowing he had so much fun had also dashed away some of her insecurities. “Honestly, I am really glad it was you who came with me and not anyone else. I had a blast. So, really, it should be me thanking you.”

Adrien was touched by her kindness and she could see it in his expression.

Looking into his soft eyes, she mustered what courage she had and tip-toed to give him a peck on the cheek.

He smiled brilliantly in response, a tinge of red seeping into his cheeks, but the darkness of the night and shadows hid it well.

“Goodnight, Marinette,” he said softly.

Turning around, he went back to his car, opened the door and got in. Closing the door, he gave her one last tender look (which she couldn’t see in the darkness) before his car took off into the night.

Marinette was confident no concert would ever top that one.

(Unless a certain blond boy came along with her again.)

#lovesquarefluffweek #lovesquarefluffweek2020 #ml love square fluff week 2020 #ml love square fluff week #adrinette #adrienette #concert #day 1 concert #miraculous ladybug #ml fic #ml fanfic #fluff #humor

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r-ahh-mi · 4 years

Text

He // Chapter 6

Prompt II Chapter 1 II Chapter 2 II Chapter 3 II Chapter 4 II Chapter 5

Pairing: Rami Malek x OC (Beth)

Warnings: Angst, smoking, and swearing.

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Sorry it has been ages since i’ve written or updated this series, however the inspiration to write randomly hit me and i’m hoping it stays with me. Lastly, three asterisks (***) indicate a flashback which you will see at the end of this chapter. Hope you enjoy xx

Tag: @hazeleyedbeth @sassystrawberryk @amcquivey @cleopatra-knowles @lovelymalekk @mezzomercury @sherlollydramoine @rami-malek-trash @xmxisxforxmaybe @soothysayer @moon-stars-soul @ramimedley

I was massively disappointed to find that mine and Rami’s walk back to his place was, once again, full of silence. The thought that maybe, just maybe, since he had made the initiative to say a couple words to me earlier, when I was lost in my own daydreams, that he could possibly drop a few more words. Maybe a ‘how are you’ or hell, even a simple ‘hi’ would do me much better than the awkward climate we were immersing ourselves in. Though, I suppose I wasn’t doing much better seeing as I never made any attempts at speaking to him either—I also wasn’t dealing with the death of a very, very close family member like he was either.

But there I go again. Giving him a pass, making excuses for him over and over again; I’d gone through way too many years of therapy, both personal and professional, to continue this toxic behavior and acceptance I held high above his head, especially after all the wrong that he still hadn’t explained to me. He was imperfect and I needed to quit thinking that I had some input into the wrong he did to me. Though we seemed perfect and he seemed perfect, clearly this was not the case and I needn’t set Rami atop this make believe throne in my mind. He was a human being full of flaws and sadly it had to take a life changing event and me losing what we had to realize such a thing.

The rest of the evening was nothing eventful. More cumbersome quiet between me and Rami, more banter between me and Sami just to fill the tension in the air up with something other than the sound of all of us chewing our mediocre food. Of course I wasn’t expecting much from either of them. They were both exhausted, mentally more than physically. They deserved a moment to breathe and I wasn’t one to attempt to get some words out of either of them right now. I knew they needed quiet.

Early into the evening, Sami expressed his desire to sleep as he stood from his previously seated position on the couch and extended his arms overhead, exposing the slightest bit of tan skin that peaked from above the top of his jeans. I looked, of course I looked and though I didn’t realize it at that moment, but Rami noticed how my eyes flickered to the newly shown skin on his brothers lower stomach even though it was anything but lustful on my end. His eyebrows formed into a straight, crunched up line as he watched me with closed, pursed lips.

“Night.” Rami’s voice boomed like an echo through the living room as I drew my eyes over to him. He looked mad and upset all at the same time, not that that was much of a change. I hadn’t seen his expression look anywhere close to happy ever since I arrived here so I didn’t think much of it.

“Night Beth,“ Sami shook his head with a much perkier voice that was contrasting to his brothers tone while he gave my shoulder a friendly squeeze as he passed by.

“Night Sami and Rami,” I greeted, apparently much too friendly for Rami’s liking as he turned around and gave me a not so friendly look before opening and closing the wooden door to his bedroom just a tad more louder than normal.

“You two are something else’, Sami bellowed from the end of the hallway before also descending behind his bedroom door.

I hadn’t realized that I too was tired as I let out a yawn that seemed to pulse through my whole body—my muscles instantly screaming out to me how sore they were as I stretched my arms high above my head while my yawn rode through my body. Seeing as there was a two hour time difference between home and here, I’m surprised I didn’t crash before the two brothers, but it seemed like my time to sleep could be near.

I traveled down the same hallway, this time turning a small corner to the guest bedroom door that I found to be inviting enough–it was minimalistic, yet still full of modern touches here and there and I couldn’t complain about being given a free bed to sleep in for however long I was here for. I slipped myself into some much more comfier clothing and tucked myself into bed, expecting myself to fall asleep relatively quickly due to my body clock being two hours off from its regular schedule and given the extensive travel i had done today, but that wasn’t the case. It had been an hour since I situated myself under the comfy goose feather comforter and yet sleep did not seem to want to be found. I tossed and turned, scrolled through my phone, and tossed and turned some more, yet my brain couldn’t find it in itself to shut off enough for me to slip into a barely conscious state.

My hand already knew what to do on nights such as these as my fingers grasped my pack of cigarettes that I’d left next to my nightstand, as if deep down I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight and that I’d be in dire need of nicotine as I usually was on evenings where I couldn’t sleep—on the nights where I just needed the warmth and comfort of another, but a very specific another. With slow and agile feet, I tiptoed my way down the hall, cringing everytime a creak emanated through the apartment. Fortunately, I seemed to make it to the kitchen without waking up the two sleeping boys, even after I reached for a drinking glass from the top cabinet and ‘dinged’ the crystal clear object against another glass cup. Once my glass had been filled to the brim with some tap water, I ensured that my cigarettes and lighter were stuffed inside the middle pocket on my hoodie and slid open the back patio door.

That first inhale was heavenly. It was as though I was able to breathe in–breathe out the anxiety and sadness all in a matter of seconds and grant myself a small amount of escape and relief from where I was in the world. By the time I was half way through my cigarette, my body had stopped the buzzing of anxious feelings that it was experiencing for the better part of my day which got me thinking just how much this entire trip was really getting to me and doing so very quickly.

It seemed to be doing me much worse seeing him and interacting with him in our current state. Primarily, I blame this on the sick little story line I played out in my head of us seeing each other once again, after all these years, and running into one another’s arms and some other fairy tale bullshit. He’d envelope his arms around me and whisper sweet little words in my ear about how much he missed me and wanted to spend his life with me, and I would reciprocate my adoration for him and simply just not let go of him ever again. But, that wasn’t real and I needed to be realistic. I needed to let my mind come to terms that this is where we stood right now and likely how we would be. We were barely able to speak to each other and when we did it was awkward or fueled with words that hurt and the scary part is, I’m not so sure that it would ever change.

I almost wished I could go back to being in my own little day dream of us rekindling. Because living with our last interaction or rather my last interaction with his assistant where I spat several awful and valid words at them over the phone, seemed a little bit nicer than our present reality.

***

“I–I just, I don’t understand. What do you mean.”

“Mr. Malek wanted me to tell you that he can no longer continue a romantic relationship with you.” His assistant repeated for the second time, though I was still deep in shock to process what was going on and why it was happening.

“Yeah I know,” I spat, “I heard you the first time. I just don’t understand why–why–what is going on? Where is Rami?”

“He’s… uhm,” His assistant hesitated for a moment as she pulled the phone away from her mouth and looked expectantly to Rami who was busy getting his wardrobe together for his day of shooting. Rami didn’t look in her direction, though he knew his assistant was silently calling out to him for help.

“Mr. Malek is busy at-”

“Too busy that he can’t fucking break up with me himself? Too busy that he has to get his fucking assistant to do it for him because he’s too much of a pussy to say it to my face? Yeah i’m sure he’s too busy to do any of those things.”

The phone went quiet on my end, but I’m sure his assistant could hear my heavy breathing and sobs that began ripping out from my throat as my mind attempted to wrap itself around what had just happened.

I didn’t understand. We had just talked last night and everything was fine. He was tired, but happy sounding and nothing seemed off–last night we were fine and now we were nothing and the worst part is he couldn’t even tell me what was wrong. What happened? Did he cheat on me and simply not want to face the facts? Was he too busy with his career to make time for me and just found this better for the both of us? I weighed and weighed and weighed the options in my head and this just wasn’t him. Rami wasn’t like this. We had great communication and honesty all throughout our relationship–why was he choosing now to be so distant especially with it being the end of us and everything we had built about throughout our seven years of knowing one another.

I figured the rest of the phone call was pointless–his assistant didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of the rush of feelings I was having so I simply hung up and, in a moment of scattered sad and mad emotions, threw my phone across the room. It aggressively slammed into the wall and I didn’t care if the screen cracked or if my phone case had a dent in it because absolutely nothing mattered right now besides Rami and why he was doing this to me. I was utterly and completely confused beyond belief.

Rami’s POV (flashback cont.):

“I think she hung up on me. She doesn’t seem to be responding any-”

“Just hang up.” Though my tone of voice seemed normal to my assistant, she couldn’t see my face and the pained expression that ran across it and she especially didn’t see the tears softly leaking from my eyes and created small pathways down my cheek. Thankfully, my back was to her as I faced a nearby wall and buttoned up my shirt which kept my hands busy as they shook with emotions that had been taking over my thoughts and actions ever since that phone call with my brother earlier this morning.

“Do you need anything else from me?”

I’d almost forgotten that my assistant was still in the room, probably writing her two weeks notice in her head to prepare to hand to me in a matter of days, hell, maybe not even that long. What I made her do wasn’t exactly in her job description.

“No–thank you for doing that.”

And with that, she exited the room giving me exactly what I wanted; no questioning, no attempts to comfort me–she left me alone and that’s exactly what I was determined to be from now on, alone. Alone was the best because when you’re alone no one can hurt you; no one can keep secrets from you that would break your heart should you ever find out about them.

***

#rami malek #rami malek fic #rami malek x reader #rami malek fanfiction #rami malek writing #rami malek angst #rami malek fluff

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tropicalfreckles · 4 years

Text

Friends Again CH 2

MASTER LIST found here B**TLEB*BES DNI

Summary: Lydia wasn’t sure what to expect, but prepared herself best she could as that familiar figure filled her bedroom with smoke and fire.

WARNINGS: They talk about trauma briefly and Lydia impaling Beej

Lydia raised her voiced the third time, feeling the air around her becoming heavy. Books and knickknacks flew off her bookshelf, clothes flew out of her dresser. A gust of wind flowed through the room out of thin air whipping her hair around. The lights in her room flickered as a fog crept from under her dresser and bed. It swirled with a vibrant green glow that crackled from the floorboards, becoming more intense as the force of the wind joined it. An eerie cackle bounced off the walls of her room. Lydia was glad she raised the volume on her music earlier. Just as a thunderous boom rattled the windowpane of her bedroom, the fog exploded in a light show and floating before her eyes was the demon.

Just as she remembered him. Though right now he was floating above her floor looking a little bewildered, yet elated with a malevolent grin plastered across his face. He scoped the room out as his body vibrated a little. Jagged, yellow teeth. His dirty disheveled striped suit. That electric, messy green hair bleeding into the brown roots that met his forehead. The moss still growing on the side of his face. Those sunken in eyes, wild as ever. He hadn’t even noticed that she was in the room with him.

“Hooollllyyyy shiit! Someone actually summoned me! I’m out of that piles of paperwork, bureaucratic hellhole! FREEDOM! FREEE-EEEEDDOOOMMM!” That raspy voice rang out as his fingers rung through that grimy, soft hair of his. He was so ecstatic that he jumped right into being destructive when his eyes darted to the curtains. With a swipe of his hand it lit ablaze and he turned to do more mischief next. Lydia panicked, jumping off her bed as she grabbed at her pillow and threw it at his head to get his attention.

“Put that fire out, you dumbass!” She hissed pointing the water gun at him. The joy that was once displayed across the demon’s features now was replaced with a more complex one after he looked down. Shock hit him fast. The flames that began to engulf her curtains died out. He let gravity plant his ass right on the floor. Lydia followed his body with her gun never letting up her stance.

“You? You.. You.” His voice cracked at first. Then became more gravelly and hoarse on the last ‘you’ he managed to croak out. Realization hit like a trucker ramming into fresh roadkill when he noticed which house he was in. Staring up at the girl he once called his friend, his hands balled up into fists as he furrowed his brow. Streaks of blue, purple, and red shot out from his hair a vibrant mix of colors betraying him with it’s display of his emotions. He inhaled deeply as he went to stand up. Lydia stomped her foot down, causing him to flinch for a moment. Beetlejuice stayed where he was instead.

“No! St.. stay there.” She frowned. His gaze traveled down to stare at the water gun. A guttural laugh ripped from him as he gave her a snort, shaking his head.

“What’re you gonna do? Get my suit wet? Please. A little bit of water ain’t gonna hurt me. Even if I rather stay dry.” He mumbled, crossing his arms as he eyed her up and down. Clicking her tongue, Lydia rolled her shoulders.

“It’s holy water! Look, I..” A flash of guilt hit her causing her expression to soften for a moment. “…I just want to talk.” She awkwardly shuffled her feet around a little. Beetlejuice’s shoulders slumped as he rolled his eyes, giving a heavy sigh.

“…alright, I’ll give ya ten minutes, kid. Then I’m outta here; now that I’m summoned I rather be any place than here.” He mumbled. Lydia took a step closer to him. In response he shuffled away from her. She opted to sit down then where she was, so she could look at him at eye level. He was curious why she would even want him near her after everything that happened. He’d never admit it but he did feel the tiniest, smallest bit of guilt for what he did to her. Alright he did actually feel guilty. Even though he felt she was a little selfish which he usually valued in a person. I mean really who chooses a mother over their own friend? Most people, probably. However he still had a smidgen of a grudge about it. She was still fun to hang out with though and treated him nice in her own way. Nicer than anyone ever had been to him, in fact, as pathetic as that was. She even gave him a hug. The colors in his hair slowly faded back to his usual green though small streaks of blue were still branched out from his roots. Lydia seemed to be struggling with starting with whatever she had to say to him. BJ knitted his brows feeling a little anxious himself, though opted to be patient once in his life and let her speak when ready. Still had the gun pointed at him; that was fair with their track record.

“So.. I just.” She groaned, rubbing a hand over her face. This was hard. This was harder than she thought it would be.

“..I. I wanted to start off by saying, that. I’m not sorry about doing what I did. I couldn’t let you hurt everyone. I was mad that you almost made me get rid of Barbara. I was hurt that you betrayed me, I told you I just wanted to get my mom back. We could’ve gone back to scaring people after I figured it out. I was hurting, I missed her. I know.. it’s a sore subject for you. I get why parents are something that make you upset after meeting Juno. But, my mom was nice.. I love her.” Her arm begins to tremble a little.

"I am sorry for being the reason you had to see Juno again. I’m sorry she tried getting rid of you for good. You’re not a screw up, or a fool.. I just.“ She teared up a little, feeling everything she has been holding back for months begin to creep up on her.

He could just use this opportunity to split. It was uncomfortable dealing with an emotional teen. Plus she was talking about his mother the person he hated the most in any existence. A nagging feeling was keeping him there however. Something about watching this girl. That enjoyed scaring almost as much as he did, crying. It hurt a little for some reason. He rubbed the bridge of his nose when he heard her crying pick up, becoming harder. She hiccuped a little and it was annoying.

"Okay, okay; no water works kid, please. Also it’s kinda hard to hear you over that music.” He snapped his fingers and the music turned down just a little. He sighed, glad that her attention came back to him when he spoke.

“Take your time if you gotta. I suck at reading people outside of scaring them. It looks like this had been bothering you for a while. Don’t rush through it.” He mumbled not really knowing how to comfort her. “This the reason you summoned me?” He asked while leaning back as his hands moved behind him to hold his weight. Lydia nodded, wiping some tears away.

“It’s. It’s more complicated than that… ever since you left. I’ve been having nightmares..” Lydia’s voice gave out near the end of her sentence.

Nightmares usually were fun so he didn’t understand what the problem was. Although he knew breathers some times had nightmares about things that were really shitty. Maybe it was that. He motioned for her to continue.

“I don’t know if. If it’s guilt, or my trauma, but.. I never killed someone before. I don’t really want to do it again either. It was.. it was scarier than anything I’ve ever experienced before.” Her voice trailed off barely an audible whisper. She set the water gun down now that she was sure he wasn’t going to do anything.

Even though he wasn’t usually around ankle biters. He had some understanding that while murder was fun for him, that would take a toll on a kid. It was different than him killing for her. She actually killed for herself. He grimaced a little, unconsciously grabbing at his chest where she had impaled him. Lydia had noticed this however and balled her hands into fists while she gripped her dress.

“If this is too hard for you, you can leave.” Lydia spoke up again staring up into his eyes.

Beetlejuice wrinkled his nose. He wasn’t scared of this kid. He didn’t need any pity. Although maybe she did just want him to feel comfortable. Why was she being so considerate? They never really were friends, right? Even if he thought so. He snorted, waving her off.

“Kid, I’m fine. So, what’s this nightmare.” He fixed his composure, tightening his tie.

Lydia shrugged as she looked for anything else to focus her gaze on. This next part was going to be hard. She didn’t want to open up to him but she no longer wished to feel dread whenever she slept. The nightmares had to come to an end. She wanted to move on with her life.

"The nightmares are all the same one, actually. It’s the day I killed you. It starts of as it actually did. You talking about how life was too much to handle. Getting ready to murder someone because you couldn’t process it. Then, me stabbing you. After that though, everyone starts to turn into weird blobs. You and I are the only ones that still have a shape. Everything fades into a dark abyss. Mouths appear out of no where, laughing in a creepy way at us. Blood pours from their mouths..“ She starts listing the things off on her fingers. She was having trouble keeping up with what she was saying unable to make eye contact with him. Beetlejuice tensed a little when she mentioned murdering him, thinking of course she has to talk more about it.

"Then your mom is there. She’s holding you up, like you’re her captive or something. Then a sandworm eats us. That part got kind of weird. Even compared to the rest of the nightmare.” She mumbled. Finally she manages to look back up at him. Beetlejuice was leaning forward now, his elbows resting on his thighs, hands in his lap. He was staring right at her.

“Well fuck, Lyds; that is a lot to unpack.” He moved a hand up to stroke his chin. Not really sure what to say in the moment. He needed to collect his thoughts. When he noticed her fidgeting in place, tears brimming her eyes again, he didn’t want her to cry. Beetlejuice crossed his arms as he sat up straight.

"Alright.. so. Dreaming about killing me, which, I gotta admit; now that I’ve had time to mull it over the past couple of months I’m impressed. You successfully manipulated me by agreeing to help me be alive. Then killed me so you could send me back to the Netherworld. Haven’t been tricked by a breather like you before.“ He gave a small smirk almost proud that the first person that agreed to help him scare in a long, long time could have a conniving side.

"We should probably get to the bare bones of the matter.” He clapped his hands together and a bunch of bones came into existence. Clattering onto the floor around them. Lydia jumped a little then stared at them, trying not to let out a small snicker. Good, laughs, that was something he could work with to try and cheer her up.

“Fiiiirrssst, even though I am impressed you killed me and fair enough since I was being kind of an ass…” Before he could finish his sentence Lydia had chimed in with a quip.

“I’d say more than kind of. You did threaten me and my family to get me to do a green card marriage.” She quirked a brow, her fingers tapping on the ground as she gave him an unamused look.

“Alright. That was shitty of me.” He conjured a white flag waving it in peace as he heaved a dramatic sigh.

"For real I’m sorry I did that. It wasn’t cool and came off pretty sketchy. If you hadn’t noticed I don’t like being alone. So I panicked because I thought you were going to ditch me.“ The purple in his hair began to creep back and Lydia just gave him an understanding look to let him know he could continue.

"Unfortunately the only way to bring a ghost alive again is to marry them. I should’ve weighed my options better. I’m.. uh..” He gagged a little as he tried to form the words, having a hard time. Saying sorry was one thing, yet doing a heart-felt apology made it feel like he was going to combust.

“Gimme a sec..” He slapped his face, his head spinning around on his neck comically in a 360 spin as he came to his senses. When he was done being a ham he looked back to her.

“I’m deeply apologetic about what I did. Normally I take being creepy as a compliment, however out of context of what I was trying to do it’s super…” He wrinkled his nose. “Yeah. Fucking creepy and not in the good way. Even in context it’s still shitty.” He mumbled. “Having a talk with Miss Argentina made me realize that. When I heard it outloud for the first time after the fact. I swear I didn’t meant to come off that way, though.” Beetlejuice raised his hand as if doing a mock boy scouts honor salute.

“Oh, that nice ghost lady I met in the Netherworld..” Lydia leaned back against her bed, feeling like she could relax a little finally.

"Well. You actually sound sincere, which is weird since your voice always drips with sarcasm or something like that.“ She looked away for a moment as if contemplating something. ”..I know you said that you were impressed. However.. did killing you hurt you? Like, besides the obvious.“ Her gaze drifted back to him.

"Hurt me? I mean, yeah, it would fuckin’ hurt getting bad art impaled through a meatsack body.” He thought more on what she said then it dawned on him. She meant if it hurt his feelings. He ran a hand through his ever-shifting array of colorful hair trying to figure out how he should respond. Sure it did kind of did hurt his feelings. Yet it’s like he said, the situation he forced her in was pretty shitty. She also mentioned she wasn’t sorry for what she did to him. She was still being nice at least. Maybe those dweeby Maitlands rubbed off on her a bit. Even though he only knew her a brief time the Lydia he knew before probably wouldn’t have given too much a shit about this. While she was fun and sort of nice to him when they scared people. She still easily jumped to kill him.

"Eh. Maybe just a bit. However I already said I probably deserved it. It’s better that I’m dead anyways. Being human was hard. Even if it was just for like four minutes, or less.“ He counted off on his hand.

"Okay..” She looked him over, unsure if she should continue. Wanting to get back to the topic on hand she cleared her throat. “So, about the dream..” Beeltejuice took his hand, pounding a fist into the other one.

“Right, right. The thing you summoned me here for in the first place. Yeah.. so, blood, my shit mom, sandworm. I ain’t really a shrink, Lyds. So what I’m gonna say next is probably gonna be some bullshit. Like.. I don’t know, is it a guilt dream? Why’d you tell me about it?” He was still unsure about some things that were going on her. Though he tried to give his best bet. Lydia shook her head as she grabbed onto her feet, tilting forward.

“I already kind of understand what the dream means now thanks to my therapist. What I called you here for is I wanted you to hear it. I wanted you to know how I feel. What we all went through together and I wanted to hear your thoughts on it. Also how you felt about how we ended things. I did the apology I felt like you needed and I told you what I wasn’t sorry for. I kind of feel a little better. Although I still feel like crying a lot, too.” She moved her hands away to wipe as her face again.

"It’s… so overwhelming. I’m.. I’m scared, Beej.“ Lydia softly spoke, admitting finally what she was afraid to say. Beetlejuice was stumped. She actually admitted for the first time to him ever she was afraid. Not of him, he was sure of that at least. Of what he wasn’t sure. The nightmare itself? It’s meaning? He really did suck at this. He grumbled a little then began to drift off the ground, floating into the air to move closer to her. He plopped himself down next to her. Startling her a little as she jumped from him. He raised his hands up in defense quick to respond.

"Hey, hey, wait; don’t be.. uh. Scared. Just…” He began to hesitantly wrap an arm around her before realizing he probably should ask.

“Uh.. this okay?” He asked, staring at her as he kept his arm in mid air. Lydia stared at his arm then at him. She wrinkled her nose from the smell of his unwashed suit along with the earthly-dirt scent that lingered off his body. The sentiment he was offering had to have been tough for him to do and it showed he actually cared about how she felt. She gave just a small nod and he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. He moved his other around around her front and gave her a small hug then patted her back.

"I don’t actually know what you’re scared of kid. Although I’ve gotta say I’m hurt I’m not scary enough for you.“ Beetlejuice gave a mock-hurt tone to the end of his sentence as to try and lighten the mood. Lydia surprisingly clung to him as she let out a soft whimper. His shoulders dropped as he started to let go of her, only to be stopped when he felt her tighten the hug. She began crying again. He lost count how many times this made now. She buried her face into his chest, sniffling as she curled up in his arms. He wanted to just phase out of the room yet opted to stay since it seemed like she needed this. He rested his chin on top of her head as he just let her continue to sob.

"I hate this. I hate feeling… this scared. It’s-it’s so suffocating. Why does this hurt? Why do I feel horrible.” She managed to choke out. Beetlejuice tensed while she spoke.

“Wish I knew, kid; my specialty is scaring, not helping people stop feeling scared. But ya got a good support system Lydia. Those sexy, nerdy Maitlands actually nutted up to try and protect you. Your dad chased after you into the Netherworld when you ran off. That Delilah chick probably cares about you too.” He tried thinking up everyone that she actually had in her life that cared. He wish he had that. Wish he had someone who loved and cared about him. It was a hard concept to wrap his head around, he always felt like he never deserved it. Lydia shook her head, looking up at him finally.

“Her name is Delia, not Delilah. You know, it’s weird. She actually does.” She sniffled, smiling softly.

“You weren’t there for that part. Since your mom kind of tossed you out. Delia threw herself in front of me, saying that she wanted to protect me when Juno was threatening to drag me back to the Netherworld. Ever since then she’s been trying her best to understand me. Even if I’m not the warmest to her sometimes. I appreciate the effort at least. I know she’s isn’t faking it.” Lydia patted his side, indicating he could let her go as she sat back again. Beetlejuice moved his hand to rub the back of his neck.

“You know for someone who says he sucks at comforting, you didn’t do that bad of a job.” She gave him a tired smile, then picked up the water gun again. He eyed it bit warily. She tossed it away then gently nudged him. “Can you believe I was gonna blast your face with that?” That made him crack a grin then gave her a snicker.

“Yeah that probably wouldn’t have done much, anyways. Other than make me slightly clean.” He stuck his tongue out.

“Well, it might’ve stung a little. I don’t know. I haven’t had holy water thrown on me before, if you would believe that. It’s rare I scare priests. It’s a hoot when I do even if it’s never in a church. Those places are waaaay too stuffy.” He rolled his eyes. He snapped his head back to her. “So, I actually helped ya..?” His tone shifted to a more softer one. She nodded giving his shoulder a pat.

“You did; I never thought I would actually hug you again. Oh.. that reminds me.” She got up, walking over to her nightstand. He floated off the ground once more so he could peer over the bed to see. She pulled out from the small cubby under the drawer of her nightstand, a cowboy hat. She held it up as she turned around to show him.

“I still have this. I don’t know why I kept it, honestly. Guess deep down I couldn’t let a piece of you go. I did hate you for a while. I’m not sure if I can forgive you for everything. Although.. it means a lot that you apologized. Maybe one day.” She walked over, motioning for him to float up a little higher as she set the cowboy hat on his head.

“Maybe we could be friends again, some day. I’m not sure. I thought this exchange was going to go a lot differently.” He gawked a little. A warm feeling hit him, as he moved his hand up and felt his hat.

'Be friends again? Is she serious? Why doesn’t she hate me. It’s okay if she hates me, I’m used to people hating me. She kept my hat, though. I just gave it to her as a sign of peace. Even if I was still a little mad. Did she really care about me, then?’ What she told him seemed impossible. He felt like life was just fucking with him again. There’s no way she would ever forgive him he just didn’t deserve anything good. As if sensing sort of what he was thinking, she poked his nose.

“Listen, I’m not a shrink either. However I think you have a problem with self esteem. I can’t fix that right now. I meant what I said to you. I do appreciate what you said to me, how you tried comforting me. I would’ve liked if you didn’t toss all my shit everywhere when you got here though.” She looked around the room, putting her hands on her hips as she sighed.

"You’re lucky you didn’t break my camera. It’s a family heirloom from my mom.“ Beetlejuice looked around the room, then gave a small laugh.

"Hey you know me, Lyds; I gotta make an entrance! It feels nice to be out of the Netherworld. I had to stretch my legs.” He turned his head back to grin at her. There was a worm she hadn’t noticed before wiggling in-between his teeth and she stuck her tongue out. There’s that weird, gross charm of his. She flicked his forehead causing him to scowl. He rubbed where she snapped her fingers against his clam-y flesh. She motioned to her room when his attention was drawn back to her.

"I know you can bend reality or whatever it is your demon powers do. Please clean my room, I don’t feel like doing it because I’m tired.“ Lydia politely requested. Beetlejuice groaned yet didn’t complain as with a flick of his wrists. Everything began to move back into place. The curtains were no longer fire-damaged, her clothes went back neatly into her dresser and her books were slid neatly into the shelves. Even the random bones he conjured up were gone. She gave him a pleased smile along with a thumbs up. He flipped her off which just made her laugh. He couldn’t help but join her in her laugh. He tipped his hat to her then looked towards the window a moment later.

”..so, that all you needed, kid? Guess… we part ways again?“ He looked back to her a tinge of sadness edged at the end of his words. She rubbed her arm as she looked towards the window as well. She walked around him and the bed, then opened the curtains to see it was raining now.

"I guess so. You did say you wanted to get away from here, right?” She looked over her shoulder at him. He pursed his lips then tapped his fingers against his chin.

"Yeah that was the deal. I hear you out, then be on my way..“ He sighed then floated over towards her and the window. He placed a hand on the glass, staring off into the distance. She still wasn’t sure how to feel about him yet she knew she wasn’t really scared of him. Even though he was acting off for how he normally was. Maybe he wanted closure as much as she did? He couldn’t come back on his own before so she hoped this was good for him. She playfully nudged him with her elbow.

"I mean; even though you probably shouldn’t show yourself around the house. I wouldn’t mind if you came back to my room some times. If you wanna try to build up trust again or something. If you don’t hate me. It’s kind of nice having someone I can weirdly relate to that isn’t a parental figure. Someone I can talk to about this.” He looked over to her then scratched his head.

"I don’t know. Pretty sure everyone would hate it if they saw-wait. Did you summon me without telling anyone about it?“ He slowly became aware of the very lack of parental supervision as he peered over to her bedroom door. There was no way the Maitlands nor her parents would’ve let him near her without them being around. She inhaled sharply, staring a little bug-eyed down at the ground while pressing her lips together. Shit.

"Uh.. maybe.” She mumbled. He looked to her. Then let out a bellowing laughter, slapping her hard on the back.

"Well! Look at you, you little rebel! Ahhhh shit. Part of me feels like messing with the Maitlands again. Unfortunately for me they probably would try to send me back to the Netherworld.“ He grimaced then looked back to the window. "I’m not so sure if it would be safe to keep coming back here. However, other breathers are usually boring as hell. You were pretty fun. As long as the others don’t find out I guess I wouldn’t mind stopping in every so often. Maybe we could even scare together again.” His eyes flashed a mischievous glow as he gave her an malevolent smirk. She gave him an wicked smile back.

"I probably am gonna have to tell them about you eventually. It’s kind of hard to hide all this.“ She motioned to him knowing how much of a show off he could be. He nodded.

"Eh it’s true; we’ll just cross that bridge when we get to it.” He stretched out a little. Taking the cowboy hat off he slapped it onto her head. She stumbled a little, giving him a small scowl.

“Well how about you hold onto this, lil scarecrow. So I have a reason to come back. Now if you’ll excuse me. I wanna go stretch my legs and scare the shit out of some Karen in her forties while she’s kicking back, sipping on her wine box.” He grinned while ringing his dirty hands together.

"I’ll be back later, Lyds!“ He cackled, then dashed off, phasing through her wall and disappearing into the stormy night. She placed her hand on the window, staring off at nothing now as she fixed the hat on her head.

"See you soon, Dorothy.” She decided it was finally time for that nap.

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice fanfiction #beetlejuice bway #beetlejuice broadway #lydia deetz #chaos siblings #my writings #beetlejuice the musical #beetlejuice musical

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iheartseo · 5 years

Text

ruin my life // greaser!cal

requested: no

word count: 20k+ (get your snacks and your drinks ready)

synopsis: tall and handsome as hell and yet no prep would dare to admit calum hood was at least somewhat decent unless it was behind closed doors. however, a certain prep quickly gets along with the greaser which causes immediate imbalance in the divide of the Northside and Southside.

warning: racial slurs

a/n: i was suppose to post this before i left for my holiday but i never got around to finishing it before my deadline, bUT HERE IS A GIANT GREASER!CAL FIC FOR YOU ALL THAT I WORKED ON FOR LIKE AT LEAST A MONTH. this is going to be apart of a 4 part mini greaser!sos series. i will be using OCs in this series. i hope you all like it! feedback is 100% appreciated. shout out to kate ( @rakkaroses ) whose greaser universe inspired me to create this giant fic and to laura ( @irwinkitten ) for putting up with my shit with this whole thing! btw, ellene is pronounced as ell-LEAN

masterlist // writing prompt list // greaser!sos blurb (what started this disaster)

“Why did we have to go all the way here to get your car fixed? There are other shops that I am sure could fix your car just as well.” I chewed on my lower lip as I leaned against my own car with my arms folded, feeling my skin starting to crawl slightly at the fact that my brother and I weren’t in our usual neighbourhood. I watched my brother’s curled head bop around, trying to find anyone that resembled an employee in the empty mechanic shop.

“Elle, are you insane? As if I will let any of those preps touch my baby.” he gasped, shaking his head, continuing to look around. “You talking about those preps as if you aren’t one, Ash.” I mumbled to myself, rolling my eyes. I let out a sigh as my eyes scanned the area we were in. The exterior of the shop wasn’t in the best condition, considering the paint job of the sign was slowly fading away and there were a decent amount of rust creeping up along the metal foundation of the entrance. We almost missed the shop considering how hidden it was by the overgrown tree branches and shrubbery that grew along the driveway.

“Hello?! Anyone here?!” My brother’s loud voice booming through the walls, making me jump slightly as I stood up straight. “Shhh! You didn’t need to yell like that and besides, it seems like no one’s here so let’s split.” I suggested, almost in a begging tone. The longer both Ashton and I hung around, the more uncomfortable I was beginning to feel. I witnessed Ashton drop his shoulders before turning around and face me in defeat, however, his eyes suddenly perked up and sparkled.

Furrowing my eyebrows, I turned around and immediately was taken back to see a tall brown man eyeing my brother’s car. It was like he didn’t even acknowledge us being here and just focused his entire attention to the car. The mystery man then gently brushed his hand along the hood before letting out a low whistle in admiration.

“Wow… A 1964 Ford Mustang, she is a beaut. Never thought I would see a car as beautiful as she.” He thought aloud before finally looking up and nodding his head towards both Ashton and I. His eyes soon widen at the sight of both of us, though I do not blame him. My brother and I do not fit the stereotypical Southsider look. However, the mystery guy’s intense stare was definitely not welcoming as he cleared his throat. “Which one of you owns the hot rod?” His deep voice sounding even more intimidating than before as he raised an eyebrow at both of us.

“I do.” Ashton finally answered, slowly stepping up and towards the other male before he started to discuss the problems that was going on with his car. Meanwhile I chose to stay silent and close to my car incase anything happened and I needed to jump in and floor it. As the two boys seemed to be in deep conversation about Ashton’s heap of junk, I then heard a question thrown towards my direction, taking me back by surprise.

“And what’s wrong with yours?”

I turned my head only to have my eyes meet his. “M-Me? Oh n-no, there’s nothing wrong with my car. I only came so my brother can get a ride home.” I explained, starting to feel small underneath his gaze. There was something about his eyes that I personally never experienced before. As beautiful as his eyes were, they were dark and deep and seemed to be telling me that it would be a bad idea to just fall into them like a watering well. His stance with his arms that looked like they wanted to burst out of the sleeves of his dirty white shirt and his posture being incredibly perfect and straight, didn’t help with his scary image.

However, for a split second, I thought I saw his tough stance fall slightly and his face softened at the fact that I called Ashton my brother. It was almost like a wave of relief washed over him. Though, his soft moment didn’t last for too long as he straighten up and repainted the look of intimidation on his face. The switch caused me to furrow my eyebrows. ‘What is his deal?’ I thought. As much as I wanted to verbally question it, I decided to keep my thoughts to myself, just incase I were to overstep his toes.

He just nodded with a quiet hum before turning his attention back onto Ashton in order to talk about what is needed to be done to fix the car as well as how long it would take. The boys were bouncing off car jargon that I couldn’t understand for the life of myself, so I just opted to keep myself busy by looking at my hands and nails, taking mental notes to find the time to fix my nails or at least visit the salon. As I began to pick at the minimal dirt that somehow found its way under my nails, I could feel the same intense stare as before on me every now and again. Furrowing my eyebrows, I glanced up and I saw him staring at me whilst somehow managing to hold a conversation with my brother. Either that, or my brother just has horrible attention to social cues.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I felt my body freeze. I couldn’t move nor do anything once his eyes were locked with mine and it was an incredibly weird, strange and slightly scary feeling. I watched as his black coffee eyes scanned blatantly at my body before a small smirk appeared on his lips. I watched him lick his lips before properly facing Ashton again before nodding his head.

“Okay, so just come back within a week or so and your hot rod will be back to being a cherry.”

“Perfect. See you in a week…”

“Calum.”

“Great, see you in a week, Calum.”

For the first time during this entire interaction, I witnessed a small smile appear on the brown guy’s face, breaking down that intensity and intimidation that just seemed to naturally settle in his face. Though, Ashton didn’t seem to notice it at all. In fact, Ashton was talking to him as if he was a good friend from a while back, which was definitely not the case. Ashton would never be friends with a greaser, or at least… attempted to.

Calum watched as Ashton just happy bounce to my car and jumping in the driver’s seat after they shook hands on the deal. His eyes then met mine as he nodded his head. “Yeah, see you in a week.” he said in a soft voice. Although his spoken words were directed at Ashton, it seemed like the meaning behind them were directed at me, as if he was expecting me to come along as well. Calum smirked, realising how much of a weird trance his stare managed to get me in, causing him to send me a quick wink my way. I gulped before biting my lower lip and rushing to my side of the car. My face flushed, not understanding why I was feeling this way, especially because of a greaser.

“Well, he was nice.” I turned my head to look at Ashton with a look at disbelief on my face. I opened my mouth in order to protest against my brother’s overly cheerful words before I noticed Calum’s back was now facing towards us as he walked back into the shop. Although he was walking away, I could definitely notice the subtle muscle definition that was peaking out every now and then against the fabric. ‘My god he is good looking even from the back.’ I thought to myself. My face soon quickly started to get hot again as quickly moved my eyes away from Calum’s back and to the front. “Y-Yeah, he is a real peach.” I mumbled, quickly sitting back in my seat and looking away so Ashton wouldn’t be able to notice how flustered I just got.

I bit my lower lip as I sat in the front seat of my own car, feeling myself getting a little bit anxious at the fact that I had to accompany my brother once again to the mechanic shop. It wasn’t as if I was uncomfortable with the shop itself but it was rather the employees that would make me more alert than what I was use to.

However, my feelings approaching the shop this time compared to the first are on different ends of the spectrum. For most people, once they leave their car in the shop, they would just leave their cares and worries away, letting the professionals handle it, but not my brother. Oh no. Ashton was reluctant, despite trusting one of the best shops in town, he was reluctant to see his car almost everyday, counting down even the minutes till his mustang was all fixed up. It got to the point where Ashton would steal my car in order to drive to the shop on the Southside just to spend at least 5 minutes with what he calls, ‘the love of his life.’

Once Ashton pulled up to the shop, he turned off the car and practically jumped out when he saw his baby sitting in the corner.

“Baby! I missed you so much!” he exclaimed, rubbing his hand along the hood of his car. “My god, you are just as beautiful as to when I bought you.” he sighed. Rolling my eyes, I got out of my car and just stood in front of his with my arms folded across my chest.

“Alrighty then, Ash. You might wanna calm down on the loving. You sound like you wanna marry the metal box.” My teasing words immediately grabbed his attention as he turned and faced me with a look of disbelief. “Oi! Don’t call Holly a metal box! She is practically the love of my life.”

“Jesus Christ, you gave it a name too…” I mumbled to myself, shaking my head. I will never understand boys and their fascination with cars. I personally find it incredibly stupid to obsess over scraps of metal put together. Hearing the occasional clank and bang of tools echo around the shop, I slowly felt myself getting more anxious at the fact that we were on the south side of town. I turned my head over my shoulder and I could see a hand full of Southsiders staring at my car as well as both my brother and I.

Swallowing a small lump in my throat, I turned my head back to look at Ashton who still seemed to be distracted by his car. “Ash, please. Can you just pay for it and let’s get going, please. I’m kind of getting scared just even being here.” I asked, trying to keep my voice down in case I would offend any Southsiders or workers that just so happened to be eavesdropping.

“Now why would you be scared? You’re perfectly safe with me.”

My back straightened up as my arms dropped from my chest. I let out a breath that I didn’t realise that I was even holding as I turned my head to see Calum walking towards our direction with so much confidence in his strides. His brown skin contrasting to the dirty white singlet that was making an appearance as he finished wiping the engine oil off of his hands. He then stopped in front of me, giving me a half smirk whilst I just looked at him in awe, slightly afraid that I may have just offended him.

“Nice to see you back here again, Prep.” he teased before walking towards my brother and chuckling softly at how loved up and happy Ashton was to see his car. My cheeks immediately flushed red as I gave him a sheepish smile before looking down and suddenly taking interesting in my shoes. Embarrassment would be an understatement of how I was currently feeling, especially at the fact that Calum just heard me offend not only him but his entire community.

“Told you that you could trust me with your girl. Something as beautiful as this, I obviously wouldn’t dare try and dent it.” Calum said with a playful tone to his words. Ashton smiled back at the brown mechanic before playfully and graciously tapping the other’s shoulder as a sign of thank you. “Thanks man. You’re one cool cat.” Ashton smiled.

It was weird seeing my brother smile, in the sense that I never really got to see it appear often if the reason behind it wasn’t his family. It was also weird to see how strangely comfortable both of the boys were with each other, as if the social norm of preps and greasers not mixing well together, didn’t even matter to them, which made me a little bit anxious on how much time the two actually started to spend together.

Before the boys could dive into another deep conversation about cars and other things, I cleared my throat, immediately killing off their excitement and their enthusiasm. I bit my lower lip, suddenly feeling like I was intruding onto something I probably shouldn’t have, especially since both of their eyes were on me; Ashton’s looking at me as if I had just intruding him on something important and Calum’s looking at me as if he genuinely didn’t even care what I had to say, as long as I get a move on with it.

“S-Sorry boys but it’s getting late and as much as I would love to let you two fantasize about cars all day, I would really like to get my own car back so my brother could stop stealing mine now that his car is all fixed up.” I said, shaking on my first few words before steadily building the confidence. As both boys continued to look at me, I returned the stare even raising an eyebrow at them before placing one hand out in front of my brother, wanting my car keys back, just to prove to them that I shouldn’t really be questioned, or at least not now.

His famous little half smirk appeared on his lips again as he hummed; chuffed even. Though I wasn’t too sure if it was because he was surprised that I had some kind of bite to my words or impressed that I was even stepping up in the first place. Ashton sighed as he shook his head before taking out $350 and handing it over to Calum. Calum stared at the money in my brother’s hands, as if he never seen that much in person before, especially coming from a young man like Ash.

“You’re a generous tipper, Prep.” Calum commented, his eyes flicking up to meet Ashton’s hazel ones. “This a bit?” Ashton chuckled softly as he shrugged his shoulders. “I figured I had to give you a little bit extra, so you could use the money to fix up that horrendous thing you call a bike. Maybe actually buy some parts from a real shop instead of the Midnight Auto Supply.” Ashton teased, giving Calum a playful smile. The brown boy let out a dry laugh as he shook his head, practically snatching the notes out of Ashton’s hand, and quite aggressively might I add.

“Wanna help me out with it then, since you are such an expert?” Now it was Ashton’s turn to smirk. “Sure. I can hang for a while.”

My eyes widen before I quickly grabbed his hand and pulled him away from Calum and put some relatively good distance between us as well. I looked at Ashton in confusion and disbelief. “You can hang for a while? Ashton, what?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at him only to be met with his confusion as well.

“What do you mean, what, Elle?”

“You’re seriously thinking of sticking around with a greaser in order to fix up a bike?”

“Yeah why not?”

The fact that my brother can’t seem to fathom the lack of logic in the situation was baffling me. I scoffed softly as I shook my head. “Well first of all, we’re on the southside and if you don’t remember, this side can be a little bit dangerous. Second, mum will literally go ape if she ever finds out that you hung out with a greaser and third,” I folded my arms across my chest as my look of disbelief got stronger, “since when do you know anything about motorbikes?”

Ashton looked at me more annoyed than he was a few moments ago when I pulled him away. “Elle, don’t get your panties in a twist. It’s not that big of a deal as you are making it out to be. I’m not joining a gang and I’m not dealing drugs. I’m just fixing a bike, what is so wrong about that?”

“I just… I just,” I took a deep breath in and out, slightly worried that my voice was going to start wobbling, “I just don’t want those hoodlums to ruin your life and start getting you into trouble.”

His hazel eyes soften once he saw how worried I was looking. Letting out a sigh, Ashton rubbed his face before he held onto my shoulders. “Ellene, we’re just going to be working on a bike. I don’t think I am going to ruin my life if I spend a few hours with Calum.” he said, trying to reassure me by rubbing my arms and giving a small smile. I looked at him, trying to find, even a small glimpse of doubt that I should use against him but all I got in return was him just begging me to trust him.

I turned my head to look at Calum who didn’t seem to care that Ashton and I were having a little private conversation. Instead, he was cleaning up some tools and making sure his area was free of any rubbish and everything was in it’s right place. Calum looked up some cleaning the motor oil off one of his tools and found me looking at him. He raised an eyebrow at him as his jaw seemed to clench slightly, making me quickly turn my head back and sigh in defeat. “Okay fine. You two play with your cars and bikes then.” I grumbled.

Ashton smiled widely before quickly leaning down and kissing my cheek. “Thank you. Please don’t tell mum though.” he said quickly before shoving my keys into my hand and gently pushed me towards my car. “Alrighty, bye Elle! I’ll be back for dinner, I swear!” he exclaimed before running back to Calum. My eyes widen when I realised the words that came out of his mouth. I turned around the second he ran away, still clutching my keys in my hands as I just looked at his back that was running further away from me.

“Wait! What do you mean don’t tell mum?! … Ashton!?”

As I was standing by my locker, I looked at my reflection in the tiny mirror I managed to perch on my locker door, fixing my hair and making sure that my headband was sitting just right on top of my head. Whilst I was playing with my dirty blonde hair, getting into a repetitive pattern of fluffing it up and then smoothing it out, several kids were chattering loudly who all seemed very eager about the school day finally being over. Soon, a body appeared on behind my locker door, making me jump once I closed it shut, happy with my appearance.

“Jesus Tammy, you almost gave me a heart attack.” I gasped, feeling my heart rate sudden shot up as I gently pressed my hand on my chest. Rolling my eyes at her, I grabbed my bag and my books that were lying by my feet. Once I stood up straight, I raised an eyebrow at her, confused on why she was looking at me with such glee. Although Tammy was one of the sweetest girls I have ever met with the most bubbly personality, even the amount of happiness that was radiating off of her eyes and her smile was starting to get a little bit uncomfortable.

“Tammy?”

“Did you hear about the new hottie that is sitting on your car?!”

Hearing her words, I furrowed my eyebrows as my confusion continued to rise. “No? We have a new student?” I asked, deciding to slowly walk along with her down the school corridor. Tammy smiled as she nodded her head eagerly, her dark brown curls bouncing along with her head motions. “Yes! Okay well, I have no idea if he is actually attending our school, but Ellene! He is so hot. He is tall, has the biggest arms ever and even though his hair is probably full of gel, I would love to run my fingers through his hair whilst we neck in the backseat of his car.”

I immediately started to laugh as I rolled my eyes playfully at Tammy’s not-so-subtle lust and desire after the stranger she seemed to be incredibly infatuated by. “He sounds like almost every other boy that you would love to ‘neck with in the backseat of their car’, Tammy.” I teased, smiling at her, not particularly focusing on our surroundings or who was around us once we stepped foot outside and towards the school car park. “No, but like I swear this guy is like it for me, Elle! He is actually the most hottest coloured person I have ever seen in my life!”

Scrunching my nose at her words, I raised an eyebrow at her. ‘Coloured person?’ I thought to myself. Before I could open my mouth to ask her what it was that she meant by that, she stopped us both before her jaw dropped. “Look! There he is! I told you, he was sitting on your car!” she exclaimed, pointing quite obnoxiously towards the mystery being that was indeed leaning against my car. I turned my head and my eyes widen immediately, finally realising who it was that Tammy was talking about.

“Ain’t he just dreamy?”

“Dreamy is a bit of a stretch, Tam.”

“Are you nuts?! He is such a babe.”

Tammy just let out a sigh, soon leaning on me for support as she stared at the greaser who was leaning against my car, flashing several girls that walked passed a smirk before pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. He sucked in his cheeks, taking a quick drag of the cigarette, emphasizing not only his incredibly high cheekbones, but also how sharp his jawline really was as his slender fingers held onto the burning stick, making it look much smaller than it actually did due to the size of his hands. I let out a quick grumble before I gently helped Tammy stand up right, but not looking at her and keeping my eyes on him.

“I’ll give you a bell later, Tammy.” I said with a slight tone of annoyance as I quickly walked but to Calum. He turned his head and finally noticed me walking towards his direction before giving me a half smirk.

“Hey there, Prep. I thought this would be your car. A 1955 Ford Fairlane Crown Victoria Skyliner, right?”

“What are you doing here, Calum? Aren’t you supposed to be in school?”

“School’s out.”

“W-well then… what are you doing here then? In my school parking lot? On my car? Aren’t you supposed to be on the Southside?”

“You make it sound like I came over the dark side just to see you or something, and considering how many times I catch you staring at me, I don’t get why the hostility.”

The smugness behind his words caught me off guard. I opened my mouth, unsure how to respond back to the cockiness that was staring at me right in the face. Calum raised an eyebrow at me as he took in another drag and blowing the smoke away from my direction, a small little gesture of politeness that I didn’t think he had in him. “I-I… I don’t stare.” I stuttered, biting my lower lip, slightly worried that my wobbly voice was going to fail on me. He hummed before shaking his head. “Right. Of course not.”

He dug one hand in his jean pocket as he tapped away the excess ash that was hanging off his cigarette, crossing his feet over each other, clearly not showing any signs of moving off of my car. “You still didn’t answer my question, Calum. What are you doing here?” I asked, finally being able to steady my voice and not be flustered anymore. His dark eyes met mine, however before he could speak, someone took his verbal place.

“Hey Cal, ready to go?”

Furrowing my eyebrows, I turned around and saw Ashton with a smile on his face before my brother noticed me and his smile quickly faltered.

“Go? Where are you two going?” I asked, my head turning back and forth between the two. Ashton let out a dry laugh as he rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding my gaze. Meanwhile, Calum seemed to really be enjoying watching my brother immediately get flustered by my simple question. “I’m picking him up from school, Prep.” Calum answered casually. My eyes widened as I looked at Calum to see if he was at all playing with me.

Calum continued to look at me with such a nonchalant expression on his face as he took in another drag of his cigarette. “Is that gonna be a problem?” he asked, jerking his eyebrows at me. I let out a scoff before looking at Ashton.

“You can’t be serious right now, Ash.”

“Elle, it’s not as bad as you think.”

“Mum is going to go ape if you come home smelling like cigarettes and alcohol by dinner time.”

“Hey! He won’t be coming home smelling like cigarettes and alcohol.”

I immediately turned my head and raised an eyebrow at Calum’s comment. “He will just be smelling like cigarettes and motor oil.” His commentary was definitely not needed, especially considering this was a family matter. I rolled my eyes as I shook my head, before facing Ashton again. “She is still going to go ape.”

“Ellene, it’s okay. I promise, I’ll be fine. You need to stop worrying.”

“Well considering you’re the eldest and supposedly ‘the man of the house’, you have a brain of a five year old therefore, I’m always gonna worry.”

Ashton let out a soft chuckle before pushing a piece of hair behind my ear as a sign of endearment. “You’re annoying.” he mumbled with a smile. “Of course I am. I’m your little sister, it’s part of my job.” I replied with a small smile back at him.

I soon let out a sigh before shaking my head. “There is nothing I can do to make you not go, huh?” I asked, although I already knew the answer. Ashton gave me a small sad smile as he shook his head. “No way.” Letting out another sigh, I rolled my eyes and groaned. “Okay fine! You two go play with your damn toys. I don’t care.” I huffed before I stepped away from him and walked towards my car.

I stood in front of Calum who was leaning against the entrance to my seat. He kept the cigarette burning in his mouth with his arms folded across his chest, making himself look much tougher and meaner than he already was. I nodded my head at him, silently signalling him to slide over but he didn’t budge. Instead, he just kept a smug look on his face which was beginning to annoy me. I sighed, putting a hand on my hip, telling him silently that I wasn’t in the mood for games. The brown greaser just chuckled softly as he slid to the side and opened the door for me, gesturing me to get in.

Thanking him softly, I got into my car and rolled down the window, looking at both of the boys. I could sense the amount of stares that were us three, particularly the amount of stares that were directed at Calum, and they didn’t feel like kind stares either. “You guys should motor soon, people are staring and I don’t want either of you two to get into a fight now.”

“Alright mum.”

I rolled my eyes at Calum’s answer before I started my car and drove away. Though, just before I drove out of the school lot, I managed to catch a small piece of their conversation.

“Not gonna lie, for a prep, your sister’s a babe.”

“Please don’t.”

A few after school visits turned in constant after school visits turned into weekend hangouts. Soon enough Ashton and Calum were hanging out almost everyday. Almost everyday, I would see a new stain on Ashton’s pants or polo shirts when he comes home from the shop or that his nails began to look dirtier with the grease and dirt underneath it or that he would have a small leftover motor oil on his cheek. Ashton also quickly began to pick up Calum’s mannerisms too and it didn’t help that the habits were encouraged by two others: Michael Clifford and Luke Hemmings.

To say I was shocked that there was more than one greaser Ashton suddenly took a fondness to would be an understatement. Of course my brother would choose the most rowdiest and well known greasers of the town. I quickly learned that those three boys would cause so much trouble, especially at the drive in and the diner. The amount of times I would hear their signature roar of their bike engines or the echo of their laughter or the in sync thumping of their boots was insane. It became more insane when I would see Ashton doing the same thing and oh boy, did my brother stick out like a sore thumb with his khaki pants and button up polo shirts. It was strange to see Ashton get along more with those three greasers than anyone else at our school. It was as if the small trio had now turned into a foursome and it was beginning to scare me, especially during school.

Although Ashton was now walking around with much more confidence and a bounce to his step down the halls, it didn’t hide the fact that I would be hearing a new rumour about my brother almost everyday. The rumours would be absolutely ridiculous from him getting a girl pregnant on the southside to him being the reason why one of the nerds got a black eye over the weekend. However, Ashton didn’t seemed too phased by what was being said about him. In fact, he didn’t seem to care at all. I wasn’t too sure if he was just turning a blind-eye to it all or if he was deciding to adopt a new persona. Whatever it was, it made me worry about him more.

Letting out a quiet sigh, I turned off my engine and stepped out of my car. I saw Calum lying on the floor, underneath a car that had its hood up, exposing all of the engine interior. I also hear the quiet hum of the radio going off in the corner, playing Stop! In the name of Love by The Supremes. Biting my lower lip, I slowly walked towards him, hearing him quietly hum along to the radio. I found myself smiling as I stood by the car, letting him just hum and quietly sing along to the song.

“Never took you for a singer, Greaser.”

My voice took him by surprised as I heard a loud thud and him yelp in pain. I jumped slightly due to his yell as I watched him roll out from underneath the car, rubbing his forehead.

“Elle?” This was one of the few rare times I heard Calum call me something other than ‘Prep’ and the fact that he called me by my nickname… I don’t know. I heard it so many times by my friends and family, it somehow never struck a chord with me but however, when he said it, it sounded so foreign and yet something I just wanted to listen to on repeat.

“Not sure if I should be surprised that you’re the type of guy to listen to MoTown music or the fact that you have other hobbies other than playing with metal junk.” Calum raised an eyebrow at me before letting out a soft laugh. He got up from the ground and began wiping his hands on his singlet before wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. “What are you doing here, Prep? Thought you would be too scared to come over to this side of town alone.” He asked as he walked passed me to his tool box that was sitting on a bench top. My eyes followed him before they landed on his back, making me slightly speechless.

“I uhh… I…,” I quickly swallowed the lump that was quickly growing in my throat, trying to compose myself and not let myself get distracted by how muscular and toned his back looked underneath the thin excuse of a singlet, “I came by to ask you a favour.”

Silence fell over both of us with only the quiet hum of the radio playing in the background. However, the silence from him was deafening and making me more nervous and anxious than I already was just even being in this shop by myself. I watched his back straighten up immediately at my statement and his head turn over his shoulder to look at me.

“A favour? What would a Prep like you want from a Greaser like me?”

“Look, I don’t know why my brother likes you or is hanging out with you greasers, but all I know is that he seems to only be happy when he is around two things; his stupid hot rod and you guys. So please, all I ask is that you make sure he doesn’t get into trouble.”

Calum had now fully turned around and was now leaning against the bench with his arms folded across his chest. It was as if that pose was his signature pose. I began fidgeting and twirling my fingers, worried that he was going to laugh in my face and just truly be nasty at the fact that I came all the way down here just to tell him to look after my brother. I looked at his face and I hated the fact that I wasn’t able to read him. The man just looked like a stone cold statue with his dark eyes that just seemed to look as if it held so much power and judgement.

“And why would I listen to a chick like you?”

“Because I said please?” Calum let out a scoff, shaking his head in disbelief. “And because I know you care about him too.” I added.

I knew I got him there, because the moment those words came out of my mouth, I saw Calum’s entire tough boy wall quickly crumble. Although I personally was not comfortable with the fact that Ashton had somehow found a weird little haven in the mechanic shop, let alone within the trio of greasers and has taken quite a strong liking towards Calum, Ashton was happy. I haven’t seen Ashton smile as much as he has lately before he met Calum and the boys. It was hard to deny it, but it seems like Ashton was finally beginning to feel accepted and he actually has friends that don’t gossip behind his back. And with that, Calum seems to have gotten slightly softer because of my brother, but again, only a little bit softer.

“... You’re real brave to come down here alone, Prep. You not afraid?”

“Course I am.”

“You afraid of me?”

“No.”

Calum cocked an eyebrow, surprised by my quick answer to his question. I could see the curiosity building in his head as he leaned forward, slightly intrigued to hear what I had to say next.

“Oh? And why is that?”

“Are you writing a book?” I complained, not use to the interrogation that was being performed by somebody else that wasn’t my mother.

“Just answer the question, Ellene.”

“Because Ashton isn’t. He believes that you and the boys are good people and I believe in my brother.”

Now it was Calum’s turn to bit his lower lip. I continued to stare at him with my big hazel eyes, hoping that he wasn’t going to turn this plea into some sort of joke or that he was going to actually take it seriously. After a few moments of silence, Calum slowly dropped his arms and instead just held onto the edge of the bench for support, subtly flexing his biceps in the process of it.

“Okay.” he said. “I’ll look out for your brother.”

Something I wasn’t use to seeing so often was Ashton’s smile. In the sense that Ashton would be smiling so much bigger and brighter and his eyes seemed to be twinkling with happiness. Honestly, as happy as I was for him, it was such a drastic change that everything else that he was doing just seemed to be an after effect of it all. Mum was now starting to get suspicious of why Ashton was coming home so late and she was getting real tired of buying so much bleach to try and keep his white shirts white and getting rid of all of the motor oil stains that just seemed to consistent.

She most definitely knew that Ashton had a huge obsession with cars and motorbikes but she couldn’t figure out a reasonable explanation on why her son’s clothes were constantly smelling like cigarettes when no one in the house smoked and why her son’s was growing his hair out and subsequently also growing out his facial hair as well. It was all getting a little bit too much and it didn’t help that Ashton, himself was now a little bit more openly comfortable with being seen out with the greasers; whether it was just him and Calum together, him and Michael or him and Luke together. However the four of them have never been seen together for reasons practically unknown.

Word spreads quick around town, but I tried my very best to make sure that the word never reached my mother considering how many times Ashton had begged me to try and keep his double life a secret away from her. So the more often Ashton is caught seen with one of the greasers, the more often I had to think creatively and make sure that our mother would not be able to put the two and two together, literally.

The interesting about the whole thing was that, I suddenly never realised how often the greasers actually stepped foot onto the Northside. It didn’t help that a lot of the stores, diners and of course the drive in, was on our side, but I never realised how often the core three seemed to step into the ‘dark side’ as Calum had poetically worded it before.

It first began when I realised that the group of greasers that would be constantly hollering and be bringing in the alcohol hidden in their flasks or even in it’s purchased grown bags would include those three. However, as energetic as Calum could get, and I have seen it from time to time, he seemed to prefer to sit back, watch and smirk at almost everything. There are some moments where I feel as if he actually does pay attention to the flick playing on the screen, which is a switch from his usual antics. Calum would also be the one who tried to settle down majority of the verbal fights that would occur between the Preps and the Greasers, often giving a glare to the polo wearing boys that dominated the drive in.

I started to see them more at the diner and I wasn’t too sure if it was fate or if it just happened to be a coincidence or if it was planned, but they would always sit two booths away from my friends and I. It would also, just so happen that Calum and I would be sitting on the outer seats, giving both of us the perfect view of each other. Ashton talks Calum and the boys up so much. It was getting annoying, however, I couldn’t help but try and see if the praises were true. Soon, I was beginning to find my own praises about a certain tattooed Greaser within the gang.

When he would laugh and smile, his eyes would get smaller and he would get these adorable wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. His hands were so big and his fingers were so slender that the milkshake glasses would look almost twice as small as what it actually was in his hands. His hair wasn’t at a typical long length, but he would often push his hair off to the side only for his curls to get even more soft. His muscles would just naturally tense without him even trying or noticing, making it seem as if his clothes were too small for his body.

But what got me the most?

His eyes.

I both loved and hated his eyes. The darkest eyes I have ever seen and yet there was as if there was a tinge of maroon in them? His eyes held so much power in them that his muscles were honestly just for decoration. His eyes had so much intensity and would only build it up once he locked eyes on you, which happened constantly to me. Getting lost in my own world, Calum would catch me multiple times, wriggle his eyebrows as a signal to tell me that he sees me before smirking. Any sort of attention he gives to me made me flush immediately, causing me to turn away immediately and try to distract myself with my milkshake or the curly fries that would be sitting in front of the table. I was getting the feeling that he just got a kick out of embarrassing me.

I was sitting at the diner but this time, sitting by the counter by myself as I was sipping on my chocolate milkshake and taking bites of my strawberry pie. “Ellene, darling, you are going to get a bad toothache if you keep eating that many sweets together.” I looked up from my slice of pie to see Martha, one of the head cooks of the diner, who seemed to be giving me a look of worry and disapproval. Though, I just giggled and shrugged my shoulders.

“Maybe if you didn’t bake the best pies and make the best milkshakes, I wouldn’t get a toothache at all.” I teased, giving her an innocent smile before taking another bite. Martha just rolled her eyes playfully before letting out a soft chuckle. “Don’t try and flatter me now, missy.” I let out another giggle as I continued to eat my slice. Minding my own business, I suddenly heard Calum’s name been spoken, but it wasn’t from a voice that I was typically use to.

Furrowing my eyebrows, I looked around and saw a group of paper shakers and jocks all sitting together in a booth, which wasn’t unusual but the fact that Calum’s name popped up in their conversation was. I made sure that they didn’t catch me looking over at them as I listened into their conversation, which honestly… I had no idea whether or not that was a good idea.

“Who’s the coloured kid that Irwin keeps hanging out with?”

“His name is Calum, whatta drip.”

“I reckon he is kinda hot.”

“Annie are you insane?! He is a dirty greaser for Christ’s sake!”

“What?! You can’t deny that despite being a coloured person and a Greaser that he is quite fit.”

“I get why Irwin and him are so close now. A greaser like that who is pretty much a runaway slave and Irwin, well… If it weren’t for his grandparents, he would only be slightly above the slave. People like those two should honestly end up in a ditch since that’s where they belong.”

The last comment immediately struck a chord with me. I have heard awful things about my brother through the quiet hushes when I walk down the corridors of our school. I even myself have gotten a few dirty glances myself, but considering Ashton is much more outgoing and somehow a bigger target than I am, he just seems to be more vulnerable to it all. I have also heard horrible things about the greasers but not on the same level as what I just heard. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I tightened my grip around my fork handle, not too sure whether or not I should stand up and say something.

Taking a deep breath in and out, I decided that maybe I should take a stand. Quickly getting up from my seat, I turned around with such determination that I didn’t realise that there was a figure right in front of me, making me bump into their hard chest quiet quickly. Before I could fall backwards, their hands immediately grabbed onto my waist to steady myself. “O-Oh! Shoots! I’m so sorry!” I quickly babbled, placing my hands on their forearms to help steady myself as well.

“You should watch where you are going.” My eyes widened at the voice that I have grown use to and oddly enough, quite fond of hearing as well. I looked up and recognised the darker melanin that heavily contrasted to my pale skin. My eyes slowly trailing up, recognising the signature tight white t-shirt with the worn out leather that was reminiscent of motor oil and cigarettes before my slightly dark hazel eyes were greeted with his much darker black coffee eyes. Calum raised an eyebrow at me, confused on why I was so flustered in the first place. I wonder if he came into the diner before or after the racist comments that were being thrown around about him.

“S-Sorry.”

“You already said that, Prep.”

“Ri-right. Sorry. Again.”

Calum let out a soft chuckle before removing his hands away from my body and for some odd reason, I didn’t want him to move away. I looked over his shoulder and saw the same group of paper shakers and jocks, looking directly right at us. Some with looks of confusion and others with looks of disgust.

“She is just like her brother. I swear.”

Hearing the awful words, I couldn’t help but start to get a little bit emotional. Too many thoughts were running through my head, but the one that stuck out the most was if Ashton knew that there were this many people saying this sort of stuff about him and our family. Little to my dismay, Calum was looking at me, trying to grab my attention as tears started to build up in my eyes.

“Ellene!”

My attention snapped from the booth to him who was staring at me with even more confusion with now, a mix of concern. “Are you okay?” he asked, raising his eyebrow at me.

“Y-Yeah I am fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“Trust me, I am. I just... “ I let out a sigh before shaking my head, trying to get the tears to fall back into my eyes, not wanting them to fall. “... I need to go. Sorry.” I quickly stated before grabbing my side bag and rushing out of the diner, swearing to God that I could hear that table of bullies just looking at me run out and laughing at me. Calum called out my name once more, though I didn’t dare to turn around. I just wanted to get out of there.

Ever since the incident at the diner, I was now more hyper aware of what was going on at school. I never realised how many people actually stared at myself and Ashton. I never realised how many dirty looks I was getting and how often people would turn away from Ashton. I guess between the two of us, I got lucky and was able to make some decent friends in the school. Ashton, however, never really had that many friends in school, besides his one best friend, Penny.

I was now starting to realise why Ashton was so caught up in the greaser’s world and why he seemed to come so much out of his shell after meeting the greaser boys. Though, associating with the greasers comes at a cost and I was starting to get more afraid that Ashton was going to have to suffer horrible consequences; consequences that I would not be able to lie about in order to cover his backside from our mother.

I sat on the seats that seemed to be designated for fathers and boyfriends to sit on whilst they watch their partner try on a thousand pieces of garments. It was weird being on the other side, but this seemed highly important to Ashton, which is one of the many reasons why he dragged me out to our local mall in order for him to buy a new leather jacket. I have honestly never seen my brother so extremely picky about a jacket in my life and this new persona of his was something I wasn’t too sure I found entertaining or annoying.

“Ashton, it’s just a jacket. They all look good on you.”

“Elle, you don’t understand. A leather jacket is a staple and I can’t just buy any leather jacket. I need to buy thee leather jacket.”

Rolling my eyes at my brother’s logic, I let out a sigh before I started to play with the ends of my hair, slowly getting impatient with his indecisiveness. Every now and then Ashton would put on a new jacket and turn around to ask for my opinion, to which I would say the same thing; ‘yeah, that looks alright. I guess.’ to which Ashton would whine and say that I was no help.

“Elle, you’re supposed to be a girl. You’re meant to be good at this shopping thing.” I let out a laugh before I got up from the seat and walked to the nearest clothing rack that had leather jackets, skimming through the slightly different design options. “Oh well I am sorry that I don’t fit into your description of a normal girl.” I teased before grabbing a hanger off the rack and inspecting it carefully.

“Here, try this one.” I suggested, handing over the hanger to him. Ashton looked at it skeptically before taking off the jacket he was wearing at the moment in order to try out my suggestion. I stood a little bit behind him as I inspected the fit of the jacket from the back and also through his reflection. The jacket was in your typical black leather and had some weight to it when I was holding up its hanger. However, the jacket itself didn’t have the huge flaps around the neckline. Instead it was smaller and there were two zippers on his right side and one on the left. The jacket itself had a little weird belt detailing at the bottom to which I wasn’t sure if it was just for fashion or for functionality. Overall, the jacket seemed to have fitted perfectly on his shoulders and the sleeves weren’t too large on his arms.

Ashton continued to look at himself in the mirror and even though his current outfit did not match the style of the leather jacket, he couldn’t help but smile. “This is it.” He smiled. “This is the one.” I let out a soft laugh before folding my arms across my chest. “Well I guess I’m not the only picky princess in the house.” Ashton turned his head over his shoulder before giving me a smug smile. “Oh yeah of course. Lauren is second princess next to you.” he teased, making me drop my arms before smacking his biceps. The curly haired boy laughed as he quickly pushed my hands away in self defence.

“Just go buy your dumb jacket.” I huffed. He nodded his head with a smile on his face before he took one more look in the mirror, to admire his reflection. Waiting for him to take off the jacket, I heard a sharp hiss from him, making me immediately alert and worried. I took a step forward, helping him take off the jacket as he held onto his side.

“Ashton, are you okay? What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Did you pull a muscle or something?” The amount of worrying questions the flew out of my mouth would give anyone a headache. I took the jacket off of him and draped it over my arm, the worrying never going away. I looked down to his hand that was resting on his side. “Is it your ribs? What did you do? Did you hurt yourself? Did you get into a fight?”

I reached my hand, hovering it over his before Ashton quickly stood up straight and pushed my hand away, but this time with haste. Taken back by his dramatic recovery, I looked at him, raising an eyebrow at him. “Ashton, if you’re hurt, you gotta let me help you.”

“Elle, I’m fine.” he said, almost gritting it through his teeth. “Ash, if you’re getting into fights and not telling me about it…”

“I’m not getting into fights.”

“Then why are you hurt all of a sudden?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Ash, it’s not nothing. Does this have to do anything with the bullying that’s going on?”

For the first time in a long time, I saw Ashton freeze up and the amount of anger that immediately filled his face and eyes was something that was actually pretty terrifying. He looked at me and snatched the jacket off from me. “Elle, it’s nothing. I promise you. Stop snooping through my business.” He walked passed me and towards the registers, making me scoff, not believing a singly word that just came out of his mouth.

“Ashton are you serious?!”

“Ellene, this has nothing to do with you, so stay out of it!”

Ashton and I having a fight was one thing, but having him say my full name was so unfamiliar, especially in that tone that I had immediately associated him saying my full name meant that he was serious and that if I pushed anything further, that I would be in trouble. He let out a soft sigh, relaxing his tense shoulders. “I’m being serious, Ellene, stop snooping through my business, alright?”

The look on his face, although his entire body had softened, was tensed to where his jaw clenched and his eyes were emitting a mix of pleading and seriousness that I just didn’t dare want to try and see what would happened if I were to tiptoe around the line he had drawn. With me giving him no answer, but rather just a small nod, Ashton let out another sigh before rolling his eyes, mumbled a quick ‘whatever’ and headed towards the registers.

I was somewhat of a smart student. I always managed to do all of my homework. If were called upon, I would be able to answer any question that any of my teachers would throw my way. I also wouldn’t be afraid to raise my hand and ask questions if I needed help. In all, I was quite a diligent student and rarely skipped my classes. However, today was one of the incredibly rare days where I decided to ditch class with Tammy and Agatha.

The adrenaline of ditching class was running through my veins as I appeared out of the girls bathroom to meet up with the girls who both came out of opposite ends of the hallway. Giggling softly, we all huddled together and started to beat feet towards the football field, trying to avoid anyone that looked like a teacher, just incase we were to get caught. Once out of the school hallways, we all smiled at each other and started to walk at a steadier pace before Agatha pulled out a pack of cigarettes and stuck one stick in her mouth. She turned her head and offered both Tammy and I one to which Tammy happily accepted whilst I declined.

All of us went to the usual smoking spot of the school, hidden underneath the bleachers. I leaned against one of the pole structures whilst the two of them sat down and smoked their cigarettes. Casual topics of conversations were thrown about causing us all to giggle and laugh and poke fun at each other, whilst trying not to be too loud incase the current gym teacher would hear us and catch us for ditching class.

“So, Elle.” Agatha started, to which by the sound of her tone caused me to immediately roll my eyes playfully. “Oh dear god, this is gonna be good.” I interrupted sarcastically, smiling at the raven. Agatha gave me a playful glare as she took a quick drag of her cigarette.

“So Elle, Tammy here, as been telling me that you have been hanging out with a sex pot lately? A certain greaser lately?” The question made me scoff and rolled my eyes playfully once more. Ever since Calum started to appear more and more by Ashton’s side meant that I had to start creating more decent conversations with him rather than the usual ‘hello? How are you?’ starters. Though, this meant new looks from Calum to which I wasn’t able to decipher if he was being nice and attentive or trying to be flirty. It also didn’t help that Calum would stop calling me Prep in such a negative tone and now rather a playful one and I would catch him smiling with endearment? Doing it adoringly? whenever I would try to correct him or complain.

“Aggie, it’s nothing.”

“Is it now?” she asked, her voice rising up a few octaves. “That is not what I have been hearing.” she sang, taking another drag of her cigarette and purposely looking away from me, though a small smirk was quite apparent on her face.

“Oh really? What have you been hearing?”

“Well! Since you asked so nicely!” she exclaimed before tapping on her cigarette gently to get rid of the excess ash, “I have been hearing that a certain greaser is very much into you and would love to have a quick bash, or a nice necking session in the back of his car and that he would be absolutely stoked to take you to see a flick at the drive in.” Listening to Agatha’s gossip made me raise an eyebrow at her, confused on where she gets her information at times. I shook my head as I re-positioned myself against the metal pole and gave her a disapproving look.

“Aggie, I think you have been smoking too much cause you’re wigging out if you seriously think that Cal is into me.”

“Ooh! He gets a nickname too!”

“It’s not going to happen.”

“And why not? He is literally sex on legs.”

I turned my attention to Tammy who decided to chime into the conversation. Of course, she would find any opportunity to comment on Calum’s looks, considering the first time she saw him, she thought he was the love of her life. Or at least one of the loves of her life. Laughing softly, I shook my head once more whilst shrugging my shoulders.

“B-Because he is my brother’s best friend. No way.”

“So what if he is Ashton’s best friend? That just means Ashton already likes and approves of him.”

“As if Calum would try to do anything with me. I’m not his type.”

“An outta sight girl like you ain’t his type?”

The two girls laughed and giggled as I just let out a dry laugh and shook my head once more. Before I could protest to their teasing, I heard a muffled groan and several voices being piled on top of each other. I furrowed my eyebrows, trying to figure out the direction of the sounds. I got off the pole and started to walk around slowly, following the sounds. At first I thought it was just the gym class that were complaining on the field, however the sounds were taking me into a different direction.

My two friends were calling out to me in confusion but I just ignored them and continued to walk towards the sounds. My feet then picked up the pace once I realised it sounded like a fight. My heart immediately started to race as I found myself running. Once I turned the corner of the brick wall, I watched Ashton immediately get shoved up against it with what looks to be a fight of 1 against 6. Words were thrown following along with fists and kicks. I couldn’t process everything that was happening in that moment right there. All I saw was Ashton being in a fight and insults that seemed to be a jab towards our family, Ashton’s choice of friends and just Ashton as a person, which caused him to get more fired up and try and take on more than what he physically could.

Before I knew it, I opened my mouth. “Hey!” I screamed before heading towards the group. A few of the guys turned their heads to look at me. “What are you doing?! Get out of here! Before I tell your teachers where you are!” I yelled. A pathetic threat, but it was the quickest one that I could think of. Soon, my two friends came by my side and saw the scene, causing Agatha to yell as well.

“Oi! Beat it! Before the school finds out that a girl made you nosebleeds cry!” she exclaimed in a much tougher tone than what I did. The bullies quickly retreated, making Ashton fall to the ground and made a run for it. My heart immediately fell into my stomach as I quickly ran to his side, trying to help him up.

“Ashton, oh my god. Are you okay?” I asked, completely concerned about his safety. Ashton just groaned as he was trying to find his footing, before looking at me in pain. He got a small cut above his eye and his nose was bleeding with small bruises appearing on his face and arms. His knuckles were burning red, not sure whether it was because they had been scrapped against the concerte or that they were met with someone’s face. Either way, Ashton was not in the best shape.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Ellene?” he spat, shrugging off my touch. I looked at him in disbelief as he took a step back from me.

“Why aren’t you in class? You could’ve gotten hurt. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Me? What is wrong with me?! What’s wrong with you?! Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“There is nothing to tell!”

“Stop hiding things from me! I’m your sister. We’re suppose to tell each other everything!”

“Maybe I don’t want to? Have you ever thought of that, Elle?!”

Tears started to form in my eyes as I just looked at him both scared and worried for him. Meanwhile, I have never seen him so defeated and yet angry at the same time. He was breathing heavily through his nostrils as he stared down at me.

“A-Ashton…”

“No! Just go away, Ellene! Beat it! Seriously!”

“What’s going on here?”

Ashton looked up and saw a teacher appear out form the same corner that I did. He groaned, looking away, now realising how much trouble I was going to be in and all of the questions that he was going to have to endure from the nurse’s offices and possibly the principle.

“Ashton! You go to the nurse’s office immediately!” Ashton didn’t say a word and just slowly limped back inside the school, ignoring me and my two friends. I stood there in shock, not sure what to do as I was suddenly overwhelmed with emotions that I was too familiar with nor did I think I could possibly handle them alone.

“Now, you three better have a good reason as to why you aren’t in class.”

Shit.

My heart was racing as I sped immediately to the mechanic shop, praying that Calum was there. If not, I wasn’t too sure where else he possibly could be so I would be able to have a private conversation with him. Seeing him roll out from under a car he was working on, I immediately turned off my car and jumped out of the driver’s seat.

The loud screech of my tires and the loud thud of my door closing grabbed Calum’s attention. He turned his head and furrowed his eyebrows at me, seeing how distressed I was and how fast I was moving towards him.

“Elle, what are you doi⏤”

“Fuck you!”

I yelled and tried to push against Calum’s chest as hard as I could, causing him to take a few steps back and hold onto me. I groaned, wanting to cry as I felt myself being restrained.

“Whoa! Whoa! Ellene, stop! Ellie!”

“No! Fuck you! I should have never trusted you! Greasers like you never keep their promises!”

In this moment, Calum had to be the more calm and logical one against my hysterics. Tears were running down my face as I let out several sobs. Calum rubbed my forearms, trying to calm me down as he looked at me in the eye with so much concern.

“Ellie, I need you to calm down and tell me what happened. I can’t help you if I don’t know what is going on.”

I let out a shaky breath, looking at him in the eye. Soon my words came out like vomit where I started to explain to him how Ashton has honestly always been bullied at school, but it has never escalated to anything physical. I then started to mention all of the whispering and the rumours that had spread, all of the dirty looks that both Ashton and myself were getting, how Calum’s name and the rest of the greaser’s names were being thrown into the mix, how Ashton has been so closed up lately and how today I received Saturday detention because I caught Ashton getting beaten up at school and tried to help him out. All of it just came out like word vomit and to which, I wasn’t even sure myself if any of it made sense.

At the end of it all, I was left as a heavy breathing mess with a few sobs and sniffs within the mix. I wiped my nose with the back of my hand before my eyes slowly looked at his. Calum was silent in all of this, careful not to interrupt my story and somehow following along. He was stoic as usual and I could not read his facial expression. I couldn’t tell if he even cared that one of his best friends got hurt today at school.

“You promised to look out for him. So why haven’t you?”

My voice cracked so much, but I was determined to finish my sentence. Calum’s entire body softened as his hands dropped to his side. Meanwhile I stood there, trying to regain my strength, folding my arms across my chest. The air was thick between us and silence was the only thing that was playing, aside of the radio. Calum groaned softly as he rubbed his face in frustration and slamming his fist against the wooden countertop. He was looking off to the side as he started mumbling about how dumb my brother has been. Shaking his head, Calum looked at me with his jaw clenched and determination in his eyes.

“Don’t worry. The boys and I will take care of it.”

“No! That’s not good enough!”

“Ellie…”

“No! You promise me that Ash won’t get into any trouble and now he is!”

“And now I am promising you that the boys and I will take care of it, okay?”

Calum sighed as he reached down to my face and started to wipe away my tears with his thumb, his one hand cradling my face and the other squeezing my upper arm gently as a sign of comfort. Seeing him act so… soft and gentle was the complete opposite of who he truly was, or maybe this was just a new side of him that came out when it would involve someone he cares about? Chewing on my lower lip, I was forced to look at him in the eye, but I could feel myself calming down a bit and my breath slowly getting more steady.

“Sweetheart, I promise. The boys and I will handle it okay? I’ll handle it.”

I let out a breath that I didn’t realise I was holding onto her before quickly nodding my head, realising that I had to let go of the reigns and just let Calum take control of the situation. Calum then fully relaxed before dropping his hands back down to his sides. He leaned back against the counter and gripped onto the edge for support. I suddenly felt weirdly empty without his touch and tried to compensate the lack of touch with my own, wrapping my arms around my waist. I swallowed a lump that was building up in my throat, trying to calm myself down just in case I were to start crying again.

“P-please don’t get hurt, Calum.” My words seemed to take an effect on him as he immediately straighten up a bit and raised an eyebrow at me. I gave him a very small sheepish smile before shrugging my shoulders once more.

“Wh-when you handle it all, please don’t get hurt.”

For the first time, his eyes gave me the first actual readable clue to what he was thinking and what he was feeling. No longer where the dark cold eyes, harden in order to protect himself. Instead, I saw two warm brown eyes looking at me, slightly amused at the fact I had even entertained the thought of him possibly getting hurt as he gave me a quick nod.

“Don’t sweat it. I got this.”

I was not too sure what Calum and the others did, but it worked. It worked extremely well. No longer was Ashton groaning whilst moving even his finger. No longer did I have to cover his ass towards our mother on why Ashton kept running into poles or played way too rough in the selected sports in gym class. No longer did I have to be incredibly hyper aware of his safety and well being. It was as if with a snap and a week later, everything somehow went back to normal. It seemed almost too good to be true and I was honestly just trying to mentally prepare myself for the next bad thing that would happen.

Though, the only thing that Calum seemed to not be able to change was the talking and the whispering. The whole school was now in on both my brother and I. Our names would constantly be spoken into the universe in such hush tones and the looks were getting dirtier and dirtier. For a split second though, all of that would stop and everyone who were doing the rude deed would immediately stop and scurry whenever Calum or the other boys would come and visit our school parking lot. Weirdly enough, I would prefer the talking than watching my brother getting beat up. So instead, I kept my head held high and ignored the whispering like I did before.

After the fighting incident, Ashton healed from his injuries and started to put on a much tougher persona whenever he was in school. He was much more on guard at school, though it didn’t differ from him constantly smiling because of the greasers. He was slowly starting to look like one at school too, though I didn’t dare try and point it out, just incase he got angry at me for snooping through his business. Ashton and I haven’t really spoken about the incident nor have we really addressed the elephant that seemed to be sitting in the room between us. Being extremely dumb and stubborn, we both decided to just leave it and continue on with our lives.

I was placing my books into my locker, trying to balance them all as I tried to figure out which textbooks that I needed for classes today. Flicking my long hair over my shoulder, I adjusted my bag strap and continued to fiddle with my locker. My locker door then suddenly slammed shut, making me jump and almost dropping my books. I looked to see the perp who did it only to be staring at Robin and a few of her paper shakers. Personally, I never really interacted with the paper shakers enough to be on their radar, so the fact that there were three of them standing at my locker, glaring at me was a bit overwhelming.

“Since your loser brother hangs out with the greasers, does that mean you’re hanging out with them too?” Robin’s words were harsh as her tone was a sharp as a knife and weirdly stinging as a sudden cut too. I furrowed my eyebrows at her, slightly surprised considering she is one of the only few people who is brave enough to actively say the nasty whispers to my face. Her hand was still placed on my locker door, keeping it shut and although I could’ve easily took a step back and walked away, I felt trapped under her stare.

“Why does it matter?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at her. Immediately without missing a beat, one of the paper shakers decided to take things up a notch.

“Bet you, she’s gonna end up like her mum; knocked up by a dirty greaser and then left alone.”

My eyes moved and narrowed immediately at the one on the right. I hated my mother’s situation was constantly used against my siblings and I. My mother did what she possibly could with all of us and is doing just fine. It wasn’t conventional, but she is still doing her job as a great mother.

“Drop dead twice.” I almost growled. “And end up like you? Oh honey, I rather neck it with the greaser you keep hanging out with than to look like you. Isn’t it the black one you like?” Robin scoffed at what her friend was saying as she shook her head and gave me a demonising smirk.

“Of course you would go after the dirtiest one out of the lot, Irwin. Your family knows exactly how to pick them. You with the black one, your brother with the half breed Cholo and your mother with your non-existent father. Its people like you that are just destined for failure.”

Every single variation of anger started to flood through my body. All I saw was red and never had I want to participate in violence so desperately in my life. Robin just continued to smirk at me before taking a small step forward, as if it was an invitation for me to hit her. Her facial expression was enough to taunt me, however when I took a step forward to even just push her, Agatha quickly appeared by my side and pulled me back.

It annoyed me that Agatha decided to intervene, but I was so mad that I just stayed silent and kept glaring at Robin and her goons. Agatha stood in the middle of the stare down, acting as the wall between us two. So much blood was pumping throughout my body and my ears started to ring that I didn’t even hear anything that Agatha was saying to Robin. All I could see were lips moving and Robin rolling her eyes and walking away, not forgetting to give me a quick shove back into the neighbouring lockers. I wanted to lunge towards her so badly but Agatha held me back.

“Ellene! You need to relax!” she advised, squeezing my shoulders in support. I turned my head and looked at my friend in disbelief. “Relax?!” I exclaimed, “She had no right to come after me like that. Fuck her.” Getting out of her grip, I grabbed my things and quickly headed off to my next class. Maybe whatever Calum did only worked for a short amount of time because now, all of a sudden, I was getting tortured at school. Not to the same extent as Ashton, but I guess something that Ashton will never realise is how catty girls can get, especially those cheerleaders.

That soon became a small routine. The cheerleaders would come by and taunt me and the jocks would scare me into thinking that they would ever try and lay a hand on me. I was more on edge at school than I have ever been. Though, that was only at school. Outside of school was different, or at least it should be.

I let out a huff, blowing a loose curl that was hanging just above my eye as I was slowly walked down the tin can aisle. Carrying a basket on my arm, I looked down to the shopping list in my hand, trying to figure out what exactly that was that my mum needed. As I was shopping and minding my own business, I couldn’t help but feel a few stares at me. However, whenever I would stop to look around, there was no one that seemed to be paying any attention to me.

Gulping and suddenly now feeling anxious, I quickly grabbed two tin cans of tomato soup, not even sure if it was tomato soup that was written on the list, and quickly shuffled off to the next aisle. I couldn’t help but think that there was more than one pair of eyes watching my every move. It was like something out of a horror movie, except in this scene, I was the actual victim. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on its ends whenever I would hear footsteps coming towards my direction or if I heard a bag of lollies dropping off the shelf.

The whole time I was feeling agitated, as if someone was watching me. The amount of times I would look over my shoulder, you would think that I was just being paranoid, but there was something in my gut that was telling me otherwise. It even got to the point where I would try and double check by peeping through the aisles first before entering. The checkout lady even looked at me with confusion as she handed me the loose change, quickly slipping in a ‘you ‘ight, darling?’ to which I just nervously smiled and nodded my head before grabbing the grocery bags.

Walking out of the supermarket, I wasn’t too sure if it was a better or safer option than staying inside, but I needed to get to my car. Decided to keep my head held up high and ignore the thick air, I tried to power walk it to my car as fast as possible. However with every time my heels would click against the pavement, there seemed to be a few heels that clacked faster just behind mine. I turned my head over my shoulder one more time and suddenly saw a small group of jocks following me.

My heart immediately dropped to my stomach as my hands got clammy. I looked forward, trying to hide the fact that I noticed a group of strange boys following me. My brain was now getting light headed and slowly blanking because before I knew it, I decided that the bags of groceries would slow me down. I immediately dropped the bag of groceries, trying to make a mental note that I would make it up to my mother and booked it as fast as I could.

“Quick! Get her!”

My heart went from stopping to now going at a thousand miles per second as I quickly ran as fast as I could. Having no idea where I was heading, I was just hoping that I would be able to lose them by just purely running. That was a fat chance of happening, but I was just hoping. Just before I would check the distance between myself and the group, I felt foreign hands grab onto my waist and pull me into an alley.

I let out a scream against the grimey palm that was covering my mouth. I almost looked like any other ankle biter throwing a tantrum, however if a tantrum was going to help me, then so be it. I started to scratch and claw at the arm that seemed to tighten its grip onto me before throwing my body onto the concrete. My hands took majority of my fall, causing my palms to be badly scraped whilst my wrists felt like they were snapped on impact. My knees took some damage as well.

Groaning, I tried to get up and move but it was painful to press my hands on the concrete. The little stones on the concrete felt as if they were digging into my scraps and that the harder I pushed in order to make myself stand up, the deeper the stones were getting into my hand. Though, the adrenaline kicked in, despite the pain and I managed to stand up but made myself back into the brick wall with nowhere else to run. All of the jocks seemed to be sneering at me whilst their eyes stared at my body with a weird mix of disgust and hunger.

“A bit of a dick move to try and corner a girl in an alleyway, boys.”

“Shut up, woman. You have no right to talk to us like that.”

I raised an eyebrow at them and their logic.

“Are you kidding me right now?” I asked in disbelief. ‘Oh I have no right to talk to them. That’s hilarious.’ I thought to myself, though considering the looks on their faces, I decided to keep my thoughts to myself. I gulped, just wishing that the brick wall could swallow me whole or that I could disappear.

“Irwin needs to learn his place. He shouldn’t be fraternizing with scum.”

“So what? You’re gonna punch his little sister in the face all because you don’t like who his friends are?”

“Oh sweetheart,” my skin immediately began to crawl when one of them called me that. I suddenly felt disgusting and dirty, as opposed to when Calum said it, “we’re just here to make sure that he gets the message.”

One of them, who I was trying to remember his name, stepped up and closed the gap between him and I. My breath hitched as I tried to back myself up more against the wall in an attempt to create distance.

“As much of a square your brother is, there is a line; Northside and Southside, Soshes and Greasers. Your family is lucky that you are able to have some sort of money. Otherwise you wouldn’t even be here. Northsiders have to keep each other in line. Get it, princess?”

Hearing another pet name fall out of his mouth just made me wanna burn myself alive. My eyes just stared into his soulless ones before flicking down to his varsity jacket. It had the name ‘Richard’ stitched perfectly in cursive on his left breast. I let out a shaky breath before looking up at him again.

“Y-Yeah. I get it.” I said in a shaky breath. I then slowly looked at the rest of the jocks that seemed to have me surrounded. “You’re all just a bunch of pigs, honestly.” That was the first sentence that I was able to say confidently without a shred of fear leaking through. Before I knew it, I was grabbed again and thrown on the ground. I wasn’t too sure how long it took before I started to scream out for attention, but I did it as loud as I could.

All of a sudden, I heard a deep voice call out and a new sound of footsteps coming into the alleyway. Again, everything was happening to fast and so weirdly out of place that I personally couldn’t follow. I just wanted peace and quiet. I felt my body being jerked awake and my eyes open quickly only to be faced with Ashton and Luke looking at me with worry all over their faces.

I furrowed my eyebrows as Ashton started to ramble incohorent words that I couldn’t hear. He gave me a quick hug and a kiss on the top of my head before looking down at my wounds and I could see the colour in his face disappearing.

“Holy fuck! You’re bleeding!”

“Ashton! Stop! I’m fine!” I exclaimed, snatching my hands out of his grip but I wasn’t fast enough. He just quickly grabbed onto my wrists again, making me let out a small yelp due to the pain that shoot up from my wrists. As if Ashton couldn’t get anymore whiter...

“Ellene! You’re really hurt. We need to get you to Calum and get you fixed up now!”

“Ash, I’m fine! I swear! I don’t need to see anyone!”

“Yes you do!”

“I’m okay!”

“No you’re not Ellene!”

“Yes I am!”

“How are you fine when you just got pushed around by a bunch of scum?!”

“Ashton! I don’t need any help! And why does it have to be Calum?!”

“Elle! Please!”

Just like that, I have never seen my brother look so broken in my life. Maybe today marks the first day where I have seen Ashton look up distraught and worried that he wasn’t even going to fight against his tears from falling. His eyes welled with tears. His hands, although holding onto my arms now tightly, were shaking like crazy. His lips were wobbling when no words were spoken.

“Please… Just let him help you…”

Letting out a quiet sigh, I pursed my lips together and nodded my head. Before I knew it, I heard a car screech and stop in front of the alleyway entrance. A small brunette female popped up from the driver’s side and they started to wave their arms around. Ashton quickly picked me up and carried me to the backseat, trying not to hurt me in the process. A few quick arguments happened here and there before the car immediately took off towards the southside of town, specifically towards Calum.

It was now like a dramatic movie. Calum didn’t even get to say hello once he opened the door. All he saw was two of his best friends worried out of their damn minds, one of them carrying his roughed up sister in his arms and another girl who was standing a little bit further back, confused of what was going on. Ashton just immediately carried me into the livingroom and settling me down onto the couch before he started to ramble about what happened to me and how he found me.

Both Calum and Luke tried to calm Ashton down and get him to breathe, but my brother is just as stubborn as I am. He just wouldn’t. He just shook his head a lot and tried to continue the story before Calum grabbed onto his shoulders and shook him hard.

“Ash! It’s okay!” he exclaimed. “Look! Everything is going to be fine! I promise!” he said, squeezing Ashton’s shoulders for reassurance. Ashton just looked at him, still scared, but nodded his head in silence. Calum stood up straight as he sighed, running his fingers through his hair, to which I finally noticed wasn’t styled or gelled up this time. It was actually quite curly, but not curly like how Ashton’s was. It looked like it was a different texture, but still so soft looking.

Calum quickly went to the bathroom to get his first aid kit in order to fix me up. Meanwhile Ashton rubbed his face, getting rid of the tears before sitting down next to me. His eyes scanned my entire body just in case there were any other injuries that he had missed whilst we were in the alleyway and in the car.

“Y-You’re gonna be fine. You’re gonna be fine.” he mumbled, though at this point, I wasn’t too sure if he was saying that to me or to himself. Calum came back with a small white box in his hands, sitting on the floor as he inspected my scraps. He bit his lower lip in concentration, trying to figure out how to clean everything. It was actually kinda cute watching his eyebrows furrow as he touched my knees delicately.

“Everything going to be okay here?” All three of us looked up and looked at Luke who was standing next to Ashton’s best friend. “I just gotta take Penny home, that’s all.” he explained, as he pointed towards the front door with a hand that was held together with hers. Calum nodded and mumbled a quick ‘yeah sure, go ahead’, returning his attention back onto me.

He then grabbed a small wet cloth that I didn’t realise he bought along with me and started to wipe away any small dry blood around my knees. The water from the cloth accidentally touched my wounds, seeping in a bit which made me hiss and jerk my knee away. Calum bit his lower lip as he looked at me. He mumbled a quick but sincere ‘sorry’ as he continued to treat me as if I was going to break any second.

“I-I gotta g-go!”

Both Calum and I looked up and watched Ashton start to breath heavily and practically jump up from his seat. He started to shake and even get jumpy. His foot was nervously tapping against the floor as his hands started to fiddle with his hair, almost looking like he was about to rip them out soon. “Cal, you got this. Just… Just lo-look after her for me. I gotta go.” Ashton stammered and before I knew it, he ran out of the door before either of us could get a single word in.

Our sighs were then let out at the same time before we even shook our heads at the same time.

“Ouch!” I exclaimed, jumping slightly as I looked down at Calum with a pout. “That really hurt.” “No shit, sweetheart.” Calum chuckled softly as he shook his head once more, continuing to wipe away the small amounts of dried blood before grabbing some tweezers and taking Ashton’s seat next to me. He held onto my wrists, making sure not to squeeze them too hard, and started to pick out any small stones and gravel that were stuck in the palm of my hands.

Every now and then I would wince to the tiny objects leaving my hands, but other than that, there were no other sounds shared between us two. It was just quiet. Not an uncomfortable quiet. Just… quiet. Calum then stuck out the tip of his tongue out in concentration, making me giggle slightly at how cute he was being at the moment. Hearing my giggle, his eyes flicked up at me and raised an eyebrow as he continued to work on my hand.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t sound like nothing.”

“It’s just funny seeing a tough Greaser like you being so soft and gentle whilst playing doctor.”

“Would you rather me be rough with you?”

His question immediately made me blush as I bit my lower lip and looked away from him. My silence to his answer made him chuckle once more, looking at me with a playful smirk on his face. I made the mistake of looking up at him, meeting his eyes for a brief moment before quickly looking away. My cheeks immediately got brighter and more red, making him laugh.

“Calm down, sweetheart. I’m just joshing.” I rolled my eyes playfully, pouting at him again. Calum continued to smirk as he finished with my right hand and moved onto my left hand which seemed to not have as many gravel stones as my right. Though, his concentration never seemed to cease. By how close we were sitting, I could literally feel his body his radiating onto me and in a weird way, it was kind of comforting. He wasn’t exactly hunched over, but he did have his head a little bit further down so he didn’t have to hold my hand up so high. In a weird way, he somehow made himself look smaller than usual, making me wanting nothing more than to hug him.

“So are you gonna tell me which goons did this to you, or am I gonna have to ask your brother?”

Calum seemed fixated on my hand but still managed to quickly glance at me and raise an eyebrow in curiosity. I bit my lower lip, shrugging my shoulders.

“Well that depends. Are you going to do something to them if I snitch?”

“That depends if your brother gets to them first before I do.”

“Then I’m not gonna say. Snitches get stitches.”

He then rolled his eyes before shaking his head. He tweezed out the last small stone before grabbing the wet cloth again and gently wiping the palms of my hands. Although his eyes were focused on my wounds, he managed to still keep the conversation going.

“The only one who is going to get stitches are the nerds that did this to you. Thought I made it clear to those dumb Northsiders that the boys and I don’t really mess around, especially when it comes to the people we care about.” His words held so much power whilst his tone held so much conviction. I watched as his lips moved and his face was now slowly becoming a mix of his typical stoic look and now concern and passion.

I let out a sigh, letting my shoulders fall a bit. “There was one, named Richard. He said that they had to make sure that Ashton stays in line and you know, follow the rules. Apparently Northsiders have to stick together and they needed Ash and I guess, all of you guys, to get the message.” I explained, chewing my lower lip, hoping that I didn’t say anything that would cause Calum to blow a gasket.

I looked at him and his jaw clenched hard. He started to chew on his lip as well, but I think it was just as a tactic to try and calm himself down. Though his eyes told me everything. If fire was dark and intimidating whilst being easily seen, that was what Calum’s eyes looked like. He then let out a scoff before wiping my wounds with a disinfectant wipe and covering them up.

“Then I guess it’s a good thing most Greasers can’t read cause the message I’m getting is that Preps like Dick are incredibly pathetic, especially to go after a female that has no business in this.”

“His name is Richard, not Dick, Cal.”

“It might as well be Dick, sweetheart.”

A quiet laugh escape my mouth as I rolled my eyes playfully. I shook my head whilst Calum just gave me a warm small smile. Even though he finished covering up the wounds on my hands, he continued to hold them gently. I could feel the calluses on his fingers brushing against my skin whilst the cold rings scattered across his hands contrasted his warmth. ‘I wonder if he realised that he was still holding my hands.’ I thought to myself, my eyes glancing at our hands several times.

I took a deep breath in and out before giving him a smile back.

“So, Doctor. Will I live?” Now it was his time laugh. “Yeah I think so. Just two more things.”

Calum then let out of my hands and quickly wiped and covered up the wounds on my knees. He then did something that I never expected a guy like him would ever do, both in private and in public. He leaned down and placed one kiss each on my wounded knees before sitting back up. He looked at me in my eyes and raised one hand each, placing again, one soft kiss on each. The cute gesture took my back by surprised as I raised an eyebrow at him. Calum, however, seemed completely unphased by my surprise, and just gave me a smirk.

“Now you will live.”

“What kind of prescription is that?”

His eyes squinted as he laughed once more, licking his lips. Every time he laughed, I felt my heart just clench in adoration and my stomach beginning to feel funny. I didn’t mind the feelings, in fact I wouldn’t mind feeling like this all the time if it meant that I got to hear him laugh. Calum shrugged his shoulders, the smile never leaving his face and his hands never letting go of mine.

“When I was little, my ma use to fix me up whenever I fell over and scratched myself up. She would roll her eyes at me and mutter at how dumb I was being, letting myself get hurt and that I should be more careful. Though, no matter how annoyed she would get, she would always leave a kiss on each scratch and scrape and tell me that mama’s kisses will take all the pain away, so stop crying.”

I giggled softly at his anecdote, imagining how Calum must have been as a child, wondering about all the little antics he would’ve gotten up to when he was younger, wondering if he had always been this witty and smart. His eyes continued to warm up and brighten as his little dimples started to pop up on his cheeks, making my heart melt even more.

“So you’re telling me that your kisses will take away all the pain?”

“Well it’s the next best thing considering it would be a tad weird if I were to ask my ma to kiss the scratches and scrapes on my girl’s hands and knees.” He teased, rubbing his thumb gently on my skin, “but I will tell you what my ma told me after getting roughed up.”

I raised an eyebrow at him in curiosity only to be met with his smile.

“Oh? And what’s that?”

“You need to stop giving me heart attacks. I’m getting too old for this shit.”

Calum never left my mind. He was kind of like a parasite. I would honestly even think about him until someone mentioned his name and immediately, he would just infect my mind with thoughts of him. And that was just his name alone, but I wasn’t complaining. I would constantly think about his soft touches despite the roughness of his skin. I would think about his smile and how cute his dimples were. I would think about how soft his eyes would be when he let his guard down. I would think about everything and it would go on for days before I would find myself back in reality only for the cycle to start all over again.

Giving the guy on the other side of the counter a small smile, I took back my change and carried the bag of popcorn and large cup of orange Fanta. Tammy walked by next to me, chewing on her bag of pretzels. We both giggled at each other, walking towards Agatha who was sitting in the driver’s seat of her car, re-adjusting her hair in her rear view mirror. The closer we got to her car, the more clearer I could see her light green eyes in the mirror which seemed to shift it’s attention from herself and onto us.

“Took you two long enough!”

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch, Aggie. There was a line!”

I laughed at Tammy’s excuse as I rolled my eyes playfully. “Uh huh, if you wanna call Tammy trying to flirt with the snack boy over the counter ‘a line’, then sure.” I teased, climbing into the backseat and sitting on the back edge of Agatha’s car. I quickly threw Agatha her bag of red vines before I took a sip of my drink. Tammy pouted at me, causing both Agatha and I to laugh.

“What?! He was cute!”

“Tam, you think almost every boy you see is cute.”

“That’s not true! Richard and his goonheads aren’t cute at all.”

Tammy’s face then dropped before looking at me whilst I just shrugged my shoulders, not really bothered by hearings his name anymore. Tammy immediately started to blurt out several apologies, causing me to wave my hand in front of her to make her stop.

“Tammy, it’s okay! I swear! I will live if I hear his name.” I said, laughing softly. Even though it wasn’t enough for her, Tammy just had to pout and accept it. I continued to smile at her and offered her my bag of popcorn as a little sign to let her know that I was genuinely okay. Her eyes flicked from my face to the bag before she grabbed a handful and started to almost smother her face in the salty buttery snack. I rolled my eyes playfully once more and let out a short laugh.

As Agatha began to tease Tammy about her lack of being a lady, which was rich coming from her, I heard a loud roar of motorbike engines and rubber tires grinding against the pavement. All three of us turned our heads and watched as the greasers all rolled up on their black and silver motorbikes, some even arriving in convertible cars of their own. Some of the greasers decided to rev up their motorbike engines, just because they could whilst the others rev’ed up their car engines, causing a burst of laughter throughout all of their throats with a mix of awe at how clean the sound was.

Instinctively, my eyes started to scan which greasers decided to cause a little bit of noise at the drive in tonight. I noticed Michael and Luke were here, but it took me a while to try and find a specific greaser. My heart slowly began to drop, not being able to find him anywhere. Letting out a sigh, I dropped my shoulders in defeat and decided to bring my attention back onto the screen, just incase the movie was about to start. Just as I was going to change my focus, I took a double take and found him.

The brown man was sitting on his motorbike proudly, even though he had already propped it up with the kickstand. He was wearing his leather jacket, ignoring the fact that it was a little bit on the warmer side tonight and he was leaning back in his spot with his large hands holding onto the sides of the tiny backseat. But most of all, he was already looking at me.

Calum smirked at me once our eyes met. His eyes quickly moved up and down my top half before licking his lips and giving me a quick wink. My cheeks flushed red immediately before I slowly turned back to look at the screen in front of me. The opening credits began to play, but no matter how loud the music was playing, my heartbeat was beating louder in my ears.

As the opening music to West Side Story began to play, I couldn’t help but to constantly look over my right shoulder to find Calum still staring at me. I started to chew on my lower lip nervously, feeling a weird rush of confidence going through my body at the fact that there would be other girls that the brown Greaser could be staring at, but instead he chooses to be fixated on me. I began to alternate between my bottom lip and my straw whilst I began to shift uncomfortably in my spot, wanting nothing more than to be closer to the man I was now finding way too far for comfort.

Soon I felt a strong male presence come near. I could feel his body heat radiating onto my back whilst his lips leaned in as close as possible without looking suspicious. Although I couldn’t see it, I could definitely hear the smirk that he was wearing proudly.

“Sweetheart, you can’t be moving like that unless you’re in my lap. You’re distracting enough as it is looking mighty fine like that.”

I felt a shiver quickly go up my spine, causing my to sit up straight. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I turned my head and watched him head towards the snack bar. Although I couldn’t see his face, I could definitely tell that he had the most smug look on his face as if he won a race for pinks. My eyes trailing down his black covered body, I noticed how thick and toned his thighs were, making me wonder what would it feel like sitting in his lap.

As I continued to admire Calum’s backside, a loud singular roar of a car engine approached the drive in. The tires grinded against the pavement, just like the others but there was very minimal hollering. Furrowing my eyebrows, I turned my head to see a very familiar red mustang pull up to the drive in. My eyes then doubled in size when I saw how my brother was looking as he stepped out of his car and I wasn’t the only one who noticed the drastic change in appearance.

Ashton’s hair has gotten longer over time to which he has now slicked it back with lord know how much gel. He was wearing a scoop neck white shirt instead of his usual polo shirts. He was wearing tight black skinny jeans instead of his khaki trousers. He was now accessorising with rings and silver necklaces that I haven’t seen sitting on his dresser before. And above all, he was sporting the leather jacket that I picked out for him.

Ashton turned off his car and threw the keys into the front seat as all eyes were now on him. Some were in shock, many were in disgust and even more were in awe. Ashton scanned the entire area, not even phased at the fact that everyone was looking at him, before smirking once his eyes landed on the group of Greasers.

“Holy fuck, your brother is hot!”

“Aggie, please don’t. That’s so gross.”

“But for real though, Elle. Your brother seriously went from a square to a hunk.”

“You two are disgusting.” I rolled my eyes and shook my head, not wanting to listen to my friends gawk at my brother’s new look.

Just before I knew it, I heard a loud thump and Ashton groan softly, making me turn my head in high alert. It was almost like deja vu when I saw Ashton get pushed up against his car door. I quickly recognised who was holding Ashton up against his car, making me both nervous but angry at the same time.

“What do you think you’re doing here, Irwin? Coming here looking like filth?”

“Filth? Really? Cause by how your girl is looking at me, I say I’m looking rather dashing.”

Ashton kept an unphased look with a new smirk on his face before looking over Richard’s shoulder and winking at the Prep girl that was eyeing him in a way that I found absolutely disgusting. Ash always had an attitude, but was never the one to be outright cocky or be condescending and rude. However, he has seemed to have grown a new personality? Or unveiled a new persona? Either way, I was surprised yet proud that he was standing up for himself.

“I suggest you walk back into your little car and drive back to the dumpster where you came from.”

“Oh, Richard. You are so kind, I would love to visit your home, but West Side Story is my favourite movie, so I would really like to enjoy it with my friends.”

Richard let out a dry laugh before shaking his head, still staying chest to chest with Ashton. Both of the boys looked at each other dead in the eye as the fight of their egos began in silence.

“Friends? You mean the low life greasers, especially the black trash. Thought you had better standards than that.”

“I do, which is why I am friends with them and not you, ya dig?”

The more smart arse comments that seemed to be naturally flowing out of Ashton’s mouth, the more heated I could see Richard getting more angry. I was now gripping onto both my soda cup and my bag of popcorn nervously without realising it. Both of the boys continued to have a stare off with everyone else surrounding them, watching eagerly to see what was going to happen next.

Ashton was now glaring at the Prep, rolling his eyes. Giving Richard a quick, but harder shove out of the way. By this point, both of them seemed to be trying to aggravate each other to their breaking points. “Move out of my way before I make you eat the pavement, Prep.” Ashton said, almost sneering at Richard. He then walked passed, shoulder checking him for good measure.

As Ashton continued to walk towards the Greaser’s side, he was immediately pulled back by Richard and immediately punched in the face. I jumped and gasped, covering my mouth with both of my hands in shock. Ashton groaned and fell in to the ground immediately. Before I could process what was going on, I quickly jumped out of Agatha’s car and started to run towards the two boys.

“You’re a dead man, Irwin.”

Ashton just spat on the ground, before slowly getting up. I recognised the anger bubbling away in Ashton’s eyes as he glared at Richard, standing over him. However, before I could reach to them and before Ashton could lunge at Richard himself, Richard was immediately pushed to the ground. I stopped in my tracks as Ashton raised an eyebrow, confused on how the other fell.

“Oi, Dick. Drop dead twice or I’m gonna make you do it myself.”

Calum stood over Richard, almost sneering his words at the Prep laying on the floor.

“I had it under control.” Calum turned his head and raised an eyebrow at Ashton’s words. “Sure you did, Greaser.”

Both of the boys smiled at each other, almost looking like brothers in arms but the cute moment quickly fizzled away as both of them immediately got tackled down. It seemed like everything happened so quickly, and yet in slow motion. It was like the action occurred first before the groaning and the sounds of fists being thrown.

Now it’s on.

Several Preps started to jump on the Greasers and the Greasers retaliated. Fists were being thrown left to right and boys were pinning each other to the ground for precision with their blows. My heart started to race, not sure what to do in order to stop everything, or at least get Ashton out of the fight. I quickly started to run around, dodging bodies being thrown up against car doors, jumping and letting out a scream every now and then.

I started to look around the area, calling out Ashton’s name to try and help him. After a while, I couldn’t see him anywhere. It was like he disappeared, which got me even more worried than before. I then was suddenly pushed, most likely by accident onto the ground as a pair of boy fell right next to me. They both completely ignored me as they wrestled with each other. I quickly scrambled up to my feet, not sure where to go. I looked up and I saw Calum straddling on top of Richard, and throwing punches in his face.

I quickly ran over to him, trying to avoid the rest of the guys, before grabbing onto Calum’s bicep.

“Calum! Let’s go!” I exclaimed but Calum just simply ignored me and continued to wrestle and hit Richard. “Cal! Leave it! Let’s go before the coppas come!” I exclaimed, holding onto the back of his arms more firmly, trying to drag him off the Prep. Once Calum heard me mention the cops, he slowly stopped everything and backed away from Richard.

Tightening my grip on his bicep, I continued to pull Calum back, making him turn and face me. My heart dropped seeing the marks that were appearing on his face. The harden look in his eyes immediately disappeared when he saw how worried I looked. Swallowing the lump in my throat, my eyes scanned his face, wondering how he was not in pain and how often he would let his face get beaten up like this.

Whilst I was lost in my thoughts, Calum quickly pulled me closer to his chest almost making me collide against his hard muscles. Hearing boys constantly groaning in pain, I remember where we were. Letting out a shaky breath, I held onto Calum’s hand and dragged him to Ashton’s car in order to get him to safety.

Once I was sitting in the driver’s seat, I suddenly remembered that Ashton’s car was stick shift instead of auto. I bit my lower lip nervously as I tried to remember all of the little details that my brother had taught me beforehand.

“You know what you doing, sweetheart?” I turned my head and gave Calum a small nervous smile whilst he raised an eyebrow at me. “Y-yeah of course!” I stammered, before mumbling to myself the steps to start the car.

After a few times, I managed to get the car to start up and I immediately drove off and out of the drive in. My heart was racing, trying to figure out the best place to take Calum where no one would follow us, whether they would be Richard and his lowlife goons, or the cops themselves. As I was driving with haste, I could hear Calum groan softly signalling that the pain was quickly catching up to him as the adrenaline was beginning to wear off. I would then constantly glance at him, getting more worried by the second.

Before I knew it, I had pulled up to the first place where I had met him; the mechanic shop. Parking the car inside, I quickly ran to Calum’s side in order to help him out. He held onto me, gritting his teeth through the pain. The greaser began to instruct me on where to take him so he would lie down and be safe.

I pushed a small door open just a little further down from the owner’s office to reveal a small room, somewhat resembling a bedroom. Though I didn’t have much time to look around as Calum immediately fell back onto the bed, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Stay here.”

Calum lifted his head up slightly only to watch me frantically run around to look for anything that resembled a first aid kit and also a clean cloth that I would use. I returned by his side, pulling up a short stool to sit on whilst I tended to him.

The room was quiet with the only sounds that would occur would be Calum wincing and the sound of water dripping back into the little bowl I had to wipe away any stray blood. My hair, which before was perfectly done up and tied with one of my favourite ribbons, was now incredibly messy and probably just as frazzled as my mind at the moment, with a few strands falling forward. As for the ribbon, it was still sitting on my head but now looser than before. My eyes trailed everywhere but avoided his, making Calum just stare at me intensely.

After wiping everything away, I helped Calum sit up so I could properly cover the little cut that he got just above his eyebrow. My tongue was now poking out of my mouth in concentration, focusing on the small wound. As I was disinfecting the cut, Calum hissed loudly and immediately grabbed onto my waist for support. The reaction made me startled, hitching my breath in my throat.

His grip was so strong and yet it made me feel so safe that I didn’t mind him holding onto me like this. Letting out a shaky breath, I mumbled a quick sorry and continued to fix up his wound. I could now feel his body heat radiating off of him with his hands squeezing my hips every now and then as he tried to suck in all of the short bursts of pain. Everything he was doing was making me nervous.

“Okay, I’m done.” I quickly mumbled, pulling myself away and out of Calum’s space and putting all of the equipment away. I let out a quiet breath that I didn’t even realise that I was holding in, turning my back towards him so I could place everything on the desk that was sitting just on the other side of the room.

Drumming my fingers on the wooden desktop, I took a deep breath in and out, trying to wrap my head around everything that happened in the span of an hour or so. Straighten up my posture, I turned around and opened my mouth to say my quick goodbyes before being surprised that Calum was already standing in front of me.

Calum returned his hands back onto my waist but never moving them further up or down out of respect. His shoulders were more relaxed. There was still a good amount of distance between us but still so little that if he were to move in just a little bit more, he could possibly feel my heart beating against his own chest. Though, expecting to see his typical hard and tough look plastered on his face, what I got instead was such a drastic difference.

The Maori boy stared at me with something that was like a melting pot of gratitude, worry and love. His eyes were soft but were incredibly warm and oddly enough, even more intimidating to stare into. His lips looking more plump, but I wasn’t too sure if it was due to the fight or if it was because we were closer.

“I-I ummm… I should probably motor… it’s getting late a-and I gotta find my brother and th-the—”

“Thank you, Ellie.”

His words sounding so foreign, I was taken back and entranced at the same time. Though I was reassured of his sincerity as he gently squeezed my hips, leaning forward and resting his forehead against mine. With each movement he made, he was managing to take my breath away every time.

“Fo-for what?” Calum smiles as he let out a soft chuckle. “Just for being here.”

I felt my face heat up faster than any other moment that I had shared with him. I weakly smiled back at him, gently placing my hands on his forearms and nodding my head softly.

“Don’t sweat it. You were my doctor for a day, now it’s my turn to be yours.” I teased, making him chuckle softly again. He licked his lips, his tongue almost touching my bottom lip. My eyes widened slightly at it but I don’t think he noticed that little detail like I did.

“In that case, will I live, Doctor?” he smirked playfully as I let out a small laugh. I rolled my eyes playfully before I leaned up to leave a small kiss on his eyebrow cut, then a small kiss on his left cheek then a few short kisses on his knuckles. Looking up at him, holding both of his hands gently in mine, I gave him a cheeky smile.

“After that prescription? Yeah, I think you will live.” I teased.

“Best medication I have ever taken.”

I giggled softly, feeling so warm and giddy being this close to him. His hands were so rough and yet felt so right in mine. Calum smiles, a genuine smile as he let out of one of my hands to push a piece of stray hair behind my ear. Letting out a sigh, I lead him back to the bed, making him take off his leather jacket and lie down to rest. Hanging up his jacket on one of the bedpost at his feet, I sat down next to him on the edge of the bed.

Calum laid on his back, continuing to stare at me with such softness and warmth that I didn’t realise the greaser had within him. He seemed so vulnerable and oddly enough, he was comfortable to be vulnerable with me. I have him a small smile, caressing his cheeks and gently pushing his hair back.

“You should get some rest, you had a pretty eventful day.” I advised in a slightly teasing tone. Calum chuckled softly before shaking his head.

“I don’t want to.” I raised eyebrow at him.

“Oh? And why not?”

“Cause then I would have to stop looking at you.”

“Why would you want to keep looking at me?”

“Cause you’re beautiful.”

My eyes widen as I gulped. Calum didn’t seem to miss a beat as he slowly sat up, though only using his elbows for support. His eyes travelled down my face, ending up at my lips before quickly flicking back to my eyes for reassurance.

“You’re seriously so beautiful and you don’t even realise it. You are honestly the most thoughtful person I have ever met.” he said in a soft voice, looking at me as if I was angelic. “You’re sort of the most demanding person I have ever met too, but I love how it’s for good reason.” he added, shrugging his shoulders before giving me a smile.

Calum then slowly leaned in, inching in closer but making sure that I was comfortable at the same time. I immediately froze, letting him get closer.

“Cal…”

“Just say ‘when’, sweetheart and I’ll stop.”

Shaky breaths were being shared between us as I watched his lips get closer and closer. My eyes were completely fixated on his whilst his were watching my every move, or what limited movement there was on my end. His lips were only a small gap away and his bottom lip just looked so inviting.

“Just say the word…” he whispered in an almost inaudible voice. I sucked in a breath, feeling his brushing against mine.

“Whe—”

I never got to finished the word, though honestly; I’m glad greasers like Calum never followed the rules. I quickly lost myself in his touch as he gently tugged me in closer, being careful never to overstep his boundaries. His lips felt slightly chapped but yet where so pillowy at the same time. I melted hard even letting out a shaky breath once he pulled away.

I gulped with my eyes still closed.

“W-when…” I stammered. Calum chuckled softly at my reaction, his face still close to mine. “Whoops.” he joked softly. I opened my eyes slightly only to be greeted by his cheeky smirk.

“You should learn to behave.”

“Thought you liked it when I am bad.”

I let out a short and dry laugh, rolling my eyes playfully once more. Calum slowly sits up more before pulling me in closer. His arms made me feel safe and warm, his hands squeezing me every now and then just to remind me that this was real. I gave him a smile, running one hand up and down his chest gently, trying to avoid the little bruises from the fight. He leans in closer, nudging my nose with his softly, with a sweet smile to get my attention even though he always had it.

“But if you want, I could be good for you.”

Hearing his proposal, I couldn’t help but giggle softly as my heart swelled at the thought of Calum actively choosing to be more caring and sincere for me. Letting my hand move up and rest at the nape of his neck, I leaned up and kissed him quickly but softly. Pulling away but leaving a small gap in between our lips, I shook my head and continued to smile at him.

“Fuck that, ruin my life.”

“... Shit, why does that sound so hot coming out of your mouth, sweetheart?”

tagged: @24kcalum @cashton-queen @crownedbyluke @notoriouslyhood @nostalgia-luke @toofadedtofight @honeybunash @honeycombcal @clum-thomas @qualitylu

#calum hood #5sos #greaser!5sos #greaser!cal #greaser!calum #calum hood imagine #5sos au #michael clifford #luke hemmings #ashton irwin #calum 5sos #michael 5sos #luke 5sos #ashton 5sos #5sos imagine #writing #mine #if you managed to finish this whole thing #i fucken love you

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sarahw-writing · 6 years

Text

“Saiyan Love”

Summary:

Sometimes, a Saiyan warrior finds himself experiencing emotions that his native tongue can't even describe, so he needs to resort to his limited imagination, and find a way of his own to express the real depth of his feelings for his mate.

Hi guys!

I'm deep into my new chapter of "Yellow Roses", but things got pretty intense and I needed to take a little break and write something else.

This one-shot is inspired by an anon I got in my inbox on Tumblr, but I'm not sure if it was exactly a play along, so I've decided to publish it independently.

I've never really written anything regarding the Saiyan language, but I hope you enjoy this one...

You can find it on AO3 or on FF.

Or you can keep reading under the break:

She stepped out of the shower with cautious feet, fluffy bathrobe cozily wrapping up her naked body as she stood in front of the misted mirror, leisurely defogging it with the palm of her hand and reaching for her favorite comb, proceeding to untangle her short locks as she contemplated the dazed reflection staring right back at her.

He was already outside.

She could feel him.

After more than five years of coexistence, living under the same roof and doing the best they could to bring up their little boy together, Bulma’s scientific mind still hadn’t found a rational explanation as to why her heart had become so in tune with that of her Saiyan lover, and why she could always sense his presence, at times even his carefully hidden emotions, flowing through her as if they’d become one single spiritual being.

Her bare feet caressed the white carpet as she walked the few light steps separating her from their private bedroom, anxious hands clutching the collar of her robe when her eyes of sapphire were faced by that one-of-a-kind silhouette, sitting casually on one of the large armchairs in the lounge area, his gaze looking absentmindedly out the windows, lost into the bright city lights dimly illuminating the dark shadows of the night.

‘Should she ask?’

In spite of his apparent nonchalance, with that one foot resting on the seat, and an arm leaning on a coolly bent knee, her man was looking as alien as ever, enveloped by that undeniable, otherworldly aura, reminding her that she’d long ago given up on the absurd idea of Vegeta sharing any kind of resemblance to an ordinary man.

The Prince’s black stare chanced upon her at last, following Bulma’s every move as she graciously tiptoed in his direction, and making her wonder, as he often did, just what invisible force made him shift like this, that unseen power compelling him to leave his own private world behind to turn his full attentions on her.

It was almost as if her elusive partner lived two lives, an uncaring, distant existence of his own, making him walk and act as if nothing and no one in the entire Universe mattered but him, and a life shared in secret with her and their son, those rare but profoundly meaningful moments in which he’d let his guard down, bringing to light a truthful softness, surprising perhaps even himself.

Her feminine brow creased softly, eyes roaming with concern all over the quiet figure now shifting awkwardly on the chair, on the hunt for any of those painfully familiar signs of self-destruction, the nightly ritual of a woman sharing her life with a man always walking on a tightrope, standing at the edge of the abyss as he gambled with Life and Death with a tenacity that made her skin crawl.

His feet gingerly touched the ground, just as Bulma exhaled a faint sigh of relief, satisfied to discover no real damage on his nude torso, nothing but a handful of harmless cuts and bruises that would magically heal before the Sun even rose come morning. And, for an ephemeral instant, they both exchanged a sphinxlike glance, trying to decipher each other’s emotions with not one word, nothing but the mystical bond fiercely binding them together.

‘Should she ask?’

“Did you have a nice day?” She asked kindly, her honeyed whisper breaking the unsettling silence as she rested a hand on his shoulder, feeling something breaking inside of her when the Prince responded by turning towards her gentle touch, sinking his nose into her wrist and inhaling deeply, almost desperately, seeking comfort in his mate’s warmth.

Her fingers twitched on his hot skin as she let him do as he wished, savoring and exploring her in his own primal way, and surrendering to his humble dominance when his arms found her slender body, draping themselves around her waist, and around the back of the bare thighs of a pair of shaky legs that could barely support her anymore, stunned by his heartbreaking humility.

There he was, the Mighty Prince of All Saiyans, ghosting the fuzzy fabric of her robe with his ragged breath as he teared her apart, shamefully hiding his face from her, burying it in her stomach, like the coward that he knew himself to be; a man with each foot firmly planted between two crumbling worlds, a haunting past and a hopeful future, a man always keeping something to himself, without the strength or the courage to take a leap of faith and surrender to the unexpected happiness that his beautiful woman and son were so eagerly offering to him.

Bulma’s arms gratefully took him in, polished fingertips soothingly scratching the nape of his neck as she battled the crushing stream of emotions overcoming her at the terrifying memory of her man lying on a pool of blood just days earlier, the wound inflicted by such chilling image still fresh in her mind.

‘Should she ask?’

Seven days.

It’d been seven days ever since he’d surprisingly agreed, without any resistance, to attend his son’s sixth Birthday party, right after she’d managed to bring up the subject with as much casualness as she’d been able to muster.

In truth, Vegeta had never actually missed any of Trunks’ birthday celebrations, and he appeared to have grown increasingly comfortable joining her and her loved ones on most special occasions, something that always meant the world to her, even if her mate’s presence was often a lonesome one. Even so, that still didn’t stop Bulma from being hit by the occasional pang of insecurity whenever she tried to invite him to be a part of events and celebrations which she knew to be embarrassingly foreign to the man she loved.

As always, Vegeta had acted with decorum during their child’s party and, even though he’d mostly kept to himself, choosing to happily focus on the lavish abundance of delicious food instead of wasting his precious time interacting with what he most certainly considered worthless strangers, it would have been impossible for Bulma not to notice the furtive glances that he’d kept throwing to their son throughout the entire morning, and the rare contentment swimming behind those impenetrable eyes, at times looking, dare she say it, happy, pleased to see their little boy clearly enjoying his special day.

But the ecstatic spell was broken as soon as the last guest left the gathering, with the Prince somberly announcing his retreat into one of those strenuous training sessions in his beloved Gravity Room, a grueling one it seemed, based on how categorically he rebuffed his son’s enthusiastic pleas to join him, and on his inexplicable instructions not to expect him for dinner that night, a gloomy command that shook Bulma up straight away.

Her gut feeling warned her back then, announcing something disturbing the Prince’s already troubled spirit, a dark turmoil she’d caught glimpses of here and there all through their rowdy years together, proving her right when, well into the night, she chose to disobey his orders, hysterically looking for him and finding his shattered body splayed upside down on the tiled floors of his training room, pitiably drenched in a puddle of crimson.

Nothing would ever describe her relief when she promptly got her hands on one of the few senzu beans she had left in the secret stash of the chamber’s medicine cabinet, just like she wouldn’t be able to put into words the raging fury she unleashed upon him immediately after he recovered his good health.

Bulma burst into tears, wailing screams booming across the room as she smacked him repeatedly with those minute fists of hers, flailing and kicking in impotence, knowing that she couldn’t possibly hurt him but needing to do something, anything, to make her man wake up from his delusional pattern of self-slaughter.

She yelled viciously at him, reminding him that it’d been his choice, and only his, to stay on Earth with her and Trunks, and that he was free to leave whenever he pleased, at any time, rather than letting their little boy see him like this, because the child was now getting old enough to understand what was happening around him, and she’d be damned if he allowed his selfish stupidity to hurt or traumatize her baby in any way, her protective maternal instincts taking over, going as far as promising to kill him herself if he really wanted to die with such foolish urgency.

Vegeta completely lost track of just how long their disgraceful confrontation truly lasted, all he knew was how gladly, almost thankfully, he’d embraced it, taking blow after blow with resignation, for once wishing his woman to be physically stronger, if only so that she could cause some real damage and punish him for his egotistic idiocy.

“Why? J-Just why, Vegeta?!” Bulma demanded in a hoarse sob, her voice broken, tears streaming down her flushed face as she leaned into his naked chest. “Why?! Why can’t you just be happy?!”

Her body trembled all over as she bowed in defeat, too exhausted to resist the strong arms lifting her from the ground with utmost care, carrying her all the way through the narrow flight of stairs leading to the cramped room in the ship’s basement, and lying her attentively on the single bed that was once the only witness to their first intimate encounters, long before their only child was conceived.

His nervous mouth descended on hers with heartrending need, merging their lips into a deep, agonizing kiss, and giving her no chance to speak any further, because she was right and they both knew, because it was happiness what terrified him the most, the reason behind the absurd physical abuse he’d been inflicting upon himself. And she was the only one, the only one who could clearly see that the Saiyan’s spirit was torn, torn between the man that he was becoming, and the one he’d been nurtured to be.

The longer he lived on their splendid little mudball, enjoying a life of harmony surrounded by people who, without a doubt, truly cared for him, the stronger his dormant resistance grew, as if there were an immobile part of him who thought himself unworthy of any kind of joy, resorting to brutal self-destruction whenever he let his guard down and allowed himself to fall into such peaceful contentment, and straightening himself up in the only way he knew how, through the most suicidal torture.

“We… We love you, Vegeta… Can’t you see?” She implored hopelessly, cupping his cheeks with her palms and bringing him closer, his brow on hers, whimpering into his mouth in languorous desire when she felt him freeing himself from his skintight pants, pulling her panties to the side with a trembling hand and slowly burying himself inside of her, not even bothering to remove her silky negligee.

His body trapped hers underneath him, driving home into her as he shielded her in his arms, nestling her head protectively in one hand while the other found one of her thighs, thick fingers digging into her flesh as he invited her to hold onto him with everything she had.

“Bulma…” Vegeta murmured against her parted lips, his sheepish whisper betrayed by the blazing intensity of those ravenous eyes, a wild madness she’d very rarely ever seen in him before. “I-Ish felah…” He hissed fervidly, mouth pursed into a thin line, hating himself for the weakness of the emotions he was about to profess. “Ish felah… Ish felah nehteh…”

She shook her dizzy head back and forth, eyelids heavy, frowning in a delicious blend of desire and confusion as she dug her long fingers into the marred skin of his shoulders, jolting in pleasure at the friction of his flesh against her core as he kept thrusting into her, making her lose control, falling apart with the slow, relentless rhythm of his powerful hips.

“Ve-Vegeta… What…?”

“F-Felah…” He reassured her while closing his eyes, mortified by his vulnerability, even though the woman shivering beneath him didn’t understand the deep meaning hiding behind his zealous words. “Bulma… Felah! Ish felah nehteh!”

He hastened his pace when she rose to meet him with ever growing urgency, her fire burning out of control as he kept pronouncing those melodic words, over and over again, kissing and nipping her lips with animalistic need, and uncontrollably spilling himself within her when the pinnacle of climax hit her, collapsing on top of her as their spent bodies pulsed in ecstasy as one.

The heiress could barely recall what happened next, only the iron safety of his hold when he flew her in his arms in the middle of the night, settling her back into the warm sanctuary of their matrimonial bed and joining her under the covers as he tucked her in, freely indulging her when she snuggled sleepily against him, and laying the most affectionate kiss on her temple, allowing those enigmatic words to gradually sink into her subconsciousness after he gingerly uttered them one last time.

‘Ish felah nehteh…’

That was a week ago, and the man now sitting on the lush chair in front of her, holding her in the fiercest embrace, almost on his hands and knees, as he took in her calming scent, had been on his best behavior ever since, satiating his warlike thirst with daily training sessions, but taking great care not to overdo it, for her sake and that of their son.

To all appearances, not much had changed in their habitual routine in front of others and, much to Bulma’s relief, not even their young son seemed to have suspected of the bloodcurdling incident taking place in the secrecy of that cursed Gravity Room.

The treasured privacy of their sumptuous bedroom, on the other hand, had been a completely different story, a secluded place where Vegeta had given free rein to a side of him he’d never fully bared before.

As always, the Prince had remained a man of few words, permitting his body to express the fond emotions that Bulma secretly knew him to profess towards her and their son. But there’d been something different in the way he’d made love to her, a heart wrenching sensibility that could almost strip tears from her eyes, at times alternated with the most feverish passion, as if he were desperately attempting to reach out to her inmost soul through his frenzied ardor.

And then there were those words, those three cryptic words melting in his alien tongue whose meaning she’d been powerless to decipher, but that she truly believed to hold some sort symbolic significance to her mate, judging by the raw longing burning in those ebony eyes whenever he voiced them.

‘Ish felah nehteh…’

The sound would be both lascivious and pure, confident yet painfully shy, but in the mysterious harmony of those esoteric words, Bulma had recognized something vaguely ancient, an exotic archaism that could only belong to the Saiyan language of which her man was now the sole keeper, with the only exception of the little boy who’d recently become his one and only student.

And so, after seven restless nights lying in bed with the living enigma that was her Prince, staring wide-eyed at the high ceilings with his beaten body dreaming in her arms, Bulma’s innate curiosity had prevailed in the end, resolving to make a little visit to a certain lavender-haired baby boy, in search of the longed for answer that she was still much too cowardly to ask directly to her man.

“Mooooom!” Trunks whined boyishly when she’d visited his muddled bedroom earlier in the morning. “I gotta go! Goten’s waiting!” He pouted as he trotted impatiently all over the place, ready to leave now that he’d finally found the fugitive shoe he’d been looking for for a good twenty minutes.

“I know sweetie, but just come here a minute…” Bulma sighed tiredly, already frustrated after only one quick glance at the spiral notebook in her hand, knowing that there was no way she’d ever be able to make some sense out of the chaotic cluster of extra-terrestrial symbols childishly scribbled all over the small, wrinkly pages. “I can’t understand these symbols, baby… Don’t you want to help Mama?”

The rambunctious child’s eyebrows rose in sudden understanding. “Oh!” Trunks gasped, a huge grin spreading on his adorably chubby face. “Ah! Right! Papa made a list! Wait!” He exclaimed, tiny hands rummaging through the untidy pile of dinosaur drawings and brightly colored crayons spread across the short-legged table that served him as a desk. “Here!” The boy yelped triumphantly, eagerly placing another equally crumpled notepad in his Mother’s hands. “Papa made me make a list! It’s… Um… Phoni… Phani… Pho-Phoniti…”

“Phonetic?” Bulma corrected him knowingly, helpless to stop herself from smiling fondly at her little boy’s lovable antics.

“Yup!” He affirmed, happy to see the pleased look glowing in his Mama’s face as she run her gaze through the pages of his second notebook.

“I’m sure this will work!” She reassured her son, overcome by a new rush of hope now that she could at least understand most of the infantile calligraphy laid bare before her prying eyes. “Wait a minute, young man…” Bulma gently chastised him, latching onto Trunks’ new training gi with one firm hand the minute she saw him newly attempting to escape. “Do I get a kiss?” Her motherly voice reprimanded him, playfully offering her cheek to the rebellious little brat already fleeing from her, and giggling softly when Trunks readily obliged, planting the loudest smooch on his Mama’s face before taking flight, right through the window, in search of the best friend who was now like a twin brother to him.

She gawked through the window until her son’s minuscule, but extraordinarily powerful, figure faded into the distant mass of cottony clouds, her heart rabbiting in her chest when she turned around at last, taking a seat in Trunks’ yellow chair and hoping that the tiny piece of furniture would successfully bear her adult weight.

Bulma’s anxious hands laid the small notebook on the table with extreme care, handling it as if it were one of those prized treasure chests from her childhood stories, filled with the most precious secrets.

The scientist opened the notepad, fingers twitching edgily as her eyes wandered across the squared pages, rapidly noticing the clever pattern that her mate had surely designed: there were three vertical columns in each page, the first one containing the unknown Saiyan symbols, and a second one with what it looked like the phonetic pronunciation of such foreign words, followed by a third column, filled with the final meaning of each cryptogram, quickly revealing that the peculiar language was not made up by an alphabet, but by a single symbol representing each cryptic word.

Trunks’ handwriting was still infused with the typical babyish messiness of a boy his age but, thanks to Bulma’s clever genius, and to those increasingly longer hours dedicated to the one-on-one education of her little boy, she was already quite used to such sloppy scribbles, having no trouble at all, not only in fully comprehending every word penned in those wrinkly pages, but in successfully unveiling the meaning of two out of the three mysterious words coyly murmured by her Saiyan mate.

In effect, the words ‘Ish’ and ‘Felah’ were fairly quick to find, with the second one prompting an agonizingly tight lump in her throat. It’d been the word that Vegeta had repeated the most, the one which seemed to hold the greatest importance to him as he’d recurrently whispered it in her ear during those cherished nights of passionate lovemaking within their private Haven.

Forever.

The most exhilarating anticipation built up inside of her as her child’s scrawls progressively exposed her mate’s most intimate secrets, particularly after the shocking significance of that vital second word. But it didn’t take long for those great expectations to morph into bitter disappointment, just as soon as she realized, after an uncomfortable second reading, that the slippery third word was nowhere to be found.

But Bulma Briefs was not the kind of woman to give up so damn easily and, after giving her brilliant mind carte blanche to ponder at liberty for a handful of minutes, mulling over that substantial list of words, a new thought came to her, the canny idea that perhaps the Prince’s puzzling expression was made out of four words instead of three.

A third thorough investigation of Trunks’ scribblings proved her suspicions right, making her hands delve in excitement into the messy pile of colorful drawings in search of a clean sheet of paper, ready to put all the pieces of Vegeta’s enigmatic riddle together, once and for all.

Ish

Felah

Neh

Teh

The red crayon twirled shakily on the thick paper, wide blue eyes already overflown with tears of sheer surprise as they gaped, without a blink, at the astounding sentence finally revealed when she joined those mysterious words together.

Forever

Need

You

Her next vision were the blurry palms of her shuddering hands as she covered her eyes with them and she let it all out.

All of it.

Every poisonous insecurity, every single one of the doubts consuming her throughout all of her years shared with the distant Prince, wondering if he’d truly developed profound feelings for her, or if perhaps he’d chosen to stay with her and Trunks out of some twisted sense of loyalty, simply because she’d accidentally conceived his child and he had nowhere else to go in this world.

There had been times when she’d gone as far as believing that his emotional hermeticism was a sad sign of him still thinking of her as a mere pastime, a warm body to share his lonely nights with during those miserable times when it’d been clear as water that the death of his Saiyan rival, and his defeat at the hands of that diabolical green monster, had made him sink into the most melancholic depression.

She lost any rational notion of time, not knowing how long she’d cried for while sitting on that little chair in the middle of her son’s lively room, or for how long she’d stood in the dark with her mate in her arms. All she felt was relief, miraculous relief at knowing that he cared, that behind that unbreakable façade of solitude and half-silences, Vegeta needed her in his life, just like she felt the light tug of his hand pulling on hers, inviting her without a sound to join him on the plush chair.

Bulma gladly cosseted him, sitting on one muscular thigh and leisurely reentering reality thanks to the strong arms carefully sitting her on his lap, one of them enclosing around her waist, bringing her closer, while his other hand rested lightly on her bare thighs, delicately exploring the naked skin hiding beneath that white robe.

The pair of hungry lips finding the mouthwatering curve of her neck were making it increasingly hard to think, brushing her frenetic pulse with maddening tenderness and grunting in soft triumph when her head fell back in submission as she gave herself to him, hanging possessively onto his neck with trembling hands as her throat choked pitifully on the new downpour of tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

Too much.

It was too much.

It would have been impossible for her to count how many times she’d been intimate with her man like this, but tonight felt different, tonight she knew, she knew just how deep his feelings for her run, and when Vegeta’s fingers began to move away the fabric of her clothing, languidly tracing the line of her bare shoulder with a hot tongue, all it took was that unnervingly salty scent to make his avid lips freeze in the spot.

“Bulma?” He called for her into the night, his tone a fearful whisper, seeking her gaze as he brushed away her poignant tears with reverent fingers. “Is…? Is everything alright?”

Her words wouldn’t come, thoroughly overcome by the day’s astonishing revelations, and by that mesmerizing look of concern beaming in her lover’s confused eyes. And she simply nodded in shy reassurance, smiling sweetly through her tears as she instinctively tightened her minute hands around his neck, clutching a handful of his wild mane as she engaged her lips with his for a long, idle kiss, allowing herself to drown into him, and into that rare comfort that his quiet presence never failed to bring into her life.

‘Should she ask?’

“Vegeta…” Bulma murmured, feeling herself relax under the protection of her mate’s solid grip. “Can I…?” She stuttered with wariness, briefly biting on her lip as she took Vegeta’s face in her hands, running her thumb across the fresh bruise spoiling his cheekbone, as if her loving touch could heal the minor wound for him. “Can I ask you something?”

The warrior’s expression didn’t budge as he bowed his head in silent assent, knitted brows betraying his pretend aloofness while he stroked her damp hair with a coarse hand, patiently waiting for his woman to share her burden with him.

“Did…? Did your people…?” Her voice shook in apprehension. “Is there a Saiyan word for ‘Love’?”

She could see his pupils dilating, even in the dark, waiting for what felt like an eternity for him to shake his head in denial, confirming a sad truth that she’d known all along: that those elusive Saiyans were so viciously uptight towards any kind of emotional attachment, that not even a word existed in their enraged world to voice the most powerful emotion of them all.

“I see…” Bulma timidly carried on. “But would you…? Would you say that…?” Her hands now rested nervously on the Prince’s naked chest, knowing that she was about to step into a dangerous territory, but needing him to know that she knew, that she’d just discovered emotions inside of him that rivaled her own, and the joy that such revelation had instilled in her fragile heart. “Would you say that love is…? That it’s like a need? Like… Like a need that lasts forever?”

Her boldness could have made him run scared, forcing him to retreat back into his shell in the same way he used to back in the old times, those earlier days and nights spent away from home, away from her, brooding and driving himself to insanity through his own emotional stupidity.

But tonight, as he rejoiced in those glorious turquoise eyes staring at him in expectancy, it wasn’t fear what took a hold on him but liberation, a strange freedom arising from his woman’s unconditional acceptance of him, and the happiness that the acknowledgement of his embarrassingly sentimental emotions for her had brought her.

Vegeta glanced out the window, thoughtful eyes lost into the dazzling city lights, and the faint ghost of a lopsided smirk etched on his lips, taking pride in his woman’s cheeky intelligence, and in how effortlessly she’d managed to decipher another one of his most guarded secrets, marveled at how little he was now fearing the inevitable day in which Bulma would eventually strip him from his every mask.

And, when he met the nerve to nod in sincere acceptance, turning his sights on her, once again, he wasn’t at all surprised by the tearful face welcoming him back, or by those pretty lips trembling into the crook of his neck as she curled up against him, not even by how frighteningly natural it was for him to drape his arms around her narrow figure, cradling her affectionately as she dissolved into those happy tears that he could so easily recognize these days.

The Prince leaned back on the chair, holding the weepy bundle that was his Bulma as close as he could, soothingly running his hands up and down her quivery back as she set her emotions loose, holding onto the blackened stone that once was his heart just a little tighter with her greedy hands.

He closed his eyes and took a deep, cooling breath, lulled by the distant sounds of the luminous city that he now called home, and the gentle breathing of the woman nodding off in his warm embrace, the woman who’d, against all odds, become an intrinsic part of his very soul, the woman he couldn’t possibly live without anymore, even if he still found himself stubbornly rebelling against the undeserving love that she so freely offered.

And he could have sworn that he wasn’t yet dreaming when her final words caressed his ear, not long before Morpheus claimed her for himself.

“I love you too, Vegeta…”

There it is!

I don't know if I got this one right, but I really enjoyed experimenting a little bit with the idea of Vegeta trying to find a way to express his feelings for his Bulma...

I hope you liked it!

#vegebul #vegeta #bulma #trunks #fanfiction #writing #fanfic #dbz #dragon ball z #question #saiyan love #one-shot #angst #sarahw-writing #sarahw-world

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