#my dad lets me play shit on his consoles still when i visit but i do not have the energy to take a train to [REDACTED] | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mythiccheroacademia · 4 years

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My bad, I’m just now seeing the rules😭 I’ll choose shiguraki, dabi, and Hawks for the time traveling kids reaction

A/N: You’re all good baby! I kept looking at this trying to come up with a fitting situation for them and then I dreamt about being in all three situations last night??? lmaooo it was both terrifying and lucky hehe~ Hopefully, it’s as good as I’m imagining it

Side Note: I’m writing this with a baby (thankfully, but unfortunately, not mine!) on my chest. Get on my level. Jk, but everyone say hi <3

Warnings: Cursing

Shigaraki Tomura:

you and shigaraki came back from your daily walks

aka, people watching

and you two planned to play on the PS4 later

whiles you’re setting up the TV in the living room, he goes to his room to get the console and remotes

he opens the door, sees a baby on his bed, then immediately shuts the door

goes to you and kurogiri

him: ��any of you know why there’s a baby on my bed?”

kurogiri: a baby? 😐

you: a BABY!!!?? 😍💞💞

you rush in there and to your amazement, there is a baby no more than six or seven months, gurgling on the bed

kurogiri is giving tomura the most judgemental look and shigaraki kinda feels embarrassed even though he swears he didn’t do anything

“please don't tell me it’s yours”

“i can assure you, y/n and i use prot--”

“oh my gosh, shiggy, she looks just like you with my hair and nose!”

kurogiri is over it

tomura is malfunctioning

you’re gushing over the baby girl, totally ignoring the fact that a literal child, who just so happened to look like a perfect mix between you and tomura, just appeared like a sick magic trick

was it a quirk?

was it time travel??

did tomura knock you up and everybody just somehow forgot???

so many questions, so little answers

in order to keep from getting a migraine, everybody followed your train of thought and just went along with it for now

shigaraki was less than pleased that his plans with you had been scrapped

he spent the day going shopping (stealing) for diapers, getting formula, buying clothes, and buying toys

feeding the baby was annoying

changing her was a nightmare

shigaraki threatened to disintegrate the child if she puked on him one more time

but everyone just adores her

she’s such a cutie

her toothless smile just warms up everybody’s hearts

even kurogiri is smitten

the day ends with you, the baby, and shigaraki in his room, getting ready for bed

he’s grumbling bc “can’t we just leave her on the couch or something”

you ignore him and he’s forced to get in bed bc no matter what, he’d never give up the chance to cuddle with you...even if it is with some stupid baby

after she falls asleep, you sigh and lean on his shoulder

“you really think she’s ours?” you ask

he wants to say i hope not, but the way you look at him with all the hope in the world makes his heart tingle

instead of answering, he softly kisses your lips and tucks the both of you in

when you both wake up, the baby is gone--probably back to her timeline

you're a little sad and shigaraki only says what he says NOT BC HE THINKS IT’S TRUE OR SOMETHING but bc your misery makes him itch

“don’t worry. i’m sure we’ll see the brat again someday”

Dabi:

when you came back to your apartment, holding a load of groceries, you were quite surprised to see the situation at hand

in the middle of your living room was dabi, at his big ass age, wrestling with a kid that couldn't be older than 12

least to say, you were pissed

“come on, fess up you little runt. did my old man have another kid”

“for the last time, NO! i’m yours!!”

“stop lying! my pull out game is too strong for that”

“EW! get off of me you staple-faced, burnt chicken nugget lookin’ fu--”

that’s when you intervened

“chicken nugget lookin’ what?” you questioned, looking at the boy with the look™️

the boy’s expression went from angry to scared in 0.2 seconds

dabi’s kind of impressed

“father. i-i was gonna say father”

“oh, that’s what i thought bc if you were gonna say what i thought your were gonna say, then i’d have to whoop your ass. but you weren’t, correct?”

“no ma’am”

“so we’re good?”

“yes ma’am”

“perfect. now what’s this about him being your father?”

dabi is taking out of his smugness and flinches under the heat of your glare

you ask him one time who he slept with and when he tells you you're crazy, you lunge at him

your kid lets you get a couple of good hits in before he decides to drop the news that he’s you two’s son of three from the future

you pause, his hand on your face and your fist in his hair

“deadass?” dabi says

the boy nods his head and you two take the time to look at him

his features are undeniably yours and dabi’s; he was one of those kids that if you sat them next to one or the other, they could look like both parents

you two take it better than he thought you would

“i always knew you wanted kids with me. simp”

dabi can’t even deny it. he just rolls his eyes and acts all tough

then he asks, “you sure you’re not gonna get erased from the time continuum by telling us?”

the boy shrugs “i mean...i hope not”

it’s beyond y’all at this point

so you spend the day with the kid, who was named after Dabi (Touya Jr.), and it’s so obvious he’s a momma’s boy

he helps you cook, set the table, and wash the dishes

smiles at you like you’re the entire world

dabi is kind of jealous from all the attention you’re giving him

fumes at the middle finger junior sneakily flips at him

does it back

claims to hate the kid but wipes the crumbs off his lip without hesitation

junior got the itis and is down for a nap

calls you two mom and dad before falling asleep

you get all 🥺 and even dabi is a little nostalgic when junior disappears

it’s quiet for a moment and then he says,

“wanna do a practice round in baby-making. yknow? for the future”

you roll your eyes but you aint say no!

Takami Keigo (Hawks):

hawks didn't expect to see a tiny kid on the edge of a building on his day off

there wasn't a lot that scared him, but he couldn't deny the fear hammering against his ribcage as he saw the child look around before jumping

thank goodness his speed wasn’t just talk

he caught the girl who didn't look a day past six

he’s in the middle of giving her a huge lecture about safety and mental health, she just giggles and gives him the biggest kiss on the cheek

“haha! i knew you’d catch me if i fall, papa~”

he’s too angry to even register what she called him

“that was totally dangerous, kid! what if i hadn't seen you? then what?”

“then i would fly” she said like it was the most obvious thing

he’s dumbstruck as two beautiful white wings sprout out of thin air and allow her to float next to the hero with ease

hawks blinks bc yeah anyone could have wings, but he could tell that feather pattern from anywhere

it was his

it was like his own fingerprint was staring at him

did he accidentally knock someone up bc that would be a big uh-oh

y/n wouldn't like that at all

he asks the child who he is to her and she repeats, “papa~”

he then asks who the mother was and she goes, “mommy~”

she’s not the brightest crayon in the box, that’s for sure

“what’s mommy’s name, kid,” he asks with the patience of a saint

“Takami Y/N~”

“you’re coming with me”

flys across the city with conviction

you’re lying on your bed, face mask on and reading a book in peace before your oh so wonderful boyfriend comes crashing through your open window

you don’t even flinch. so used to his surprise visits, you close the book and sigh

“to what do i owe the great pleasure of having you break into my house? again”

hawks holds the cute girl up, squishing her cheek as she laughs from the adventure they just went on

“mommy!”

“surprise!”

this time, you drop the book

eventually, with some cupcakes and chicken, the little girl tells you two about how she went to play with some kid and got zapped by a quirk and ended up here

you also find out she’s the youngest of four

you look a little sick but keigo gives you a shit-eating grin

he’s so excited about having a family with you

you can’t deny the tingle in your heart

parades the girl around the house and they’re both laughing the same laugh, eyes bright with joy

it makes your heart hurt and now you have to join into the shenanigans

you spend the day playing games, doing face masks, and reading books to fall asleep to

when you wake up, she’s gone but keigo’s arms are still firmly wrapped around your waist

“so now that you know i’m gonna trap you with four kids, when are you gonna pop the question?” you joke

but hawks isn’t laughing. instead, he’s smiling at you in a way that makes your eyes widen

he digs in his coat and pulls out the ring

“i was gonna try and make it a little more romantic. but why wait? so, what do ya say to taking my last name?”

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rudypankwow · 4 years

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can we be friends? | jj maybank

not my gif! (posted by @rudypankows)

inspired by (can we be friends?) by conan gray, in which you fall in love with your best friend

requested: nooo i should do those though

warnings: swearing?

word count: 1.6k

masterlist

a/n: this kinda became a 4+1 kinda think but like it’s fine. it’s still cute and i like it. i might do a part two but i’m not sure?

could you be my best friend? let's hang out every weekend go driving every night stare at people that we like

jj didn’t have a car, but you did.

“hey, wanna go for a ride?” you said to him over the phone. code for “my parents are yelling and i need to get out of the house.”

“of course, i do,” he says. you can hear the smile in his voice.

“okay, meet me in ten minutes.”

you’d lived in the house next door your entire life. when you were little, you used to hide in the bushes between your houses, ignoring the calls from mean parents for hours. you were there when his mom left, when his dad got bad, when john b disappeared. and he was there for all your shit.

you’re pretty sure you’ve been in love with him since you were eight, but you’d never tell him that.

you walk out your front door ten minutes later, and jj is already leaning against the car door. let’s get one thing straight, your car was shit, but it was a car. it had wheels and an engine and that was all that really mattered.

“hey, buddy,” jj says, reaching out his closed fist for you to bump with your own. it was tradition.

“sup, pal,” you say back, walking around to the driver’s side of the car door and sliding in, jj doing the same.

you never really had a destination. sometimes you guys would stop at a drive thru and get snacks or something to drink. sometimes you’d just drive around the island until the early hours of the morning. you took turns playing music, and, if you were feeling up to it, you’d occasionally let jj drive. (he was known to be a bad driver.)

you’d belt out whatever song was on the radio, and he’d grab your hand to use it as a fake microphone.

you laugh. “ugh, i don’t want to go home,” you said, glancing at the clock. two am.

“who says we have to?” jj says. “let’s stay out all night.” he laughs.

you protest, but he wins. he always wins. you’re wrapped around his finger in the best kind of way. you drive to the beach and sit there for a while, smoking and laughing and dipping your feet into the cold water. jj convinces you to let him drive after that.

you guys stay out until the wreck opens up, stopping in to grab coffees and say hi to kie. she laughs as you tell her stories from the night, the music, the beach, the cold water. and then you go home.

he calls you later that night. “wanna go for a drive?”

could you be my best friend? i'll tell you all my secrets i'll tell you all the times that i wish that i could die

even now, you sometimes hid in the bushes between your houses. you were too big to really fit now, but you guys somehow managed to squeeze, usually laying on your backs on either side of the stump.

“i just don’t understand,” you say. “how am i supposed to get off this island if we don’t even have the money to pay for the college applications? and my parents don’t care anyway.” you sigh. “i just really don’t want to get stuck here, jj.”

“i know, bud,” he says, pinching your knee, the same way he always does. “but you’re the smartest person i know,” he tells you, “even smarter than pope, but don’t tell him i said that.” you laugh. “you’re gonna figure it out.”

“i don’t know that i am,” you say. “we don’t even have hot water right now.”

the difference between jj’s dad and your parents was that yours meant well. they tried their hardest. but your dad couldn’t hold down a job and your mom didn’t have a high school diploma. you sometimes felt bad complaining, knowing what jj endures from his dad, but he always reassured you that he didn’t mind listening.

he sighs. “i have no idea how college works,” he says. “but there’s gotta be someone that does, there’s gotta be a way you can apply.”

“i don’t-”

“no,” he stops you. “you’re gonna go to college. you’re gonna get a degree. and you’re gonna move far away from here. and you’re gonna have a better life than you have now.” you nod. “and you’re gonna come back and visit me.”

it was a sore subject. you wanted to get off the island, but jj didn’t. even more so, he was convinced he couldn’t.

“no,” you say, and he looks back at you, confused, “i’m taking you with me, pal.”

he laughs and you punch his arm. “we’ll see about that one.”

and if anybody fucks with you they fuck with me so, if anybody fucks with you i'll knock their teeth out

it was early october, you had dragged jj with you to meet pope and kie at the wreck to do some homework. you knew he wouldn’t do work, but you’d hoped if everyone around him was, he’d be somewhat inclined.

it didn’t work.

regardless, you were all sitting at a table doing work. there was a group of kook boys sitting a few tables over. none of them really stood out to you. you’d definitely seen them around, but not enough to know any of their names. they seemed relatively harmless, so you weren’t paying attention to them.

“why is he walking over here?” jj said, his eyes zeroing in on the boy making his way over to your table.

maybe you’d assumed wrong, because he was right, one of them was walking directly toward you guys. he pulled up a chair from the table next to yours, and sits directly next to you, way too close for comfort.

“hey, babe,” he says to you.

you visibly cringe. “um, hello?” you say back. “is there something i can help you with?” you move your chair away from his, closer to jj’s.

“oh there’s plenty you can help me with,” he says.

you hear jj mutter, “what the fuck?” under his breath, and you shoot him a look, stay out of it.

“okay, well, i’m kind of in the middle of something,” you say, “so maybe you can,” you pause, pretending to think, “leave me alone? and while you’re at it, never talk to me again.”

“excuse me?” he says, getting up from his chair. “who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” he takes a step toward you.

“okay, we’re done here,” jj says from behind you, standing up. “why don’t you head back to your little friends?” he’s in his face now. you try to grab at jj’s arm and pull him back, not wanting any trouble, but he pulls away from your grasp.

“hey, you two,” kie’s dad yells from behind the counter. “go back to your tables or get out,” he says.

“next time, you’re dead,” jj says, pointing his finger at the other boy’s chest. he sulks back to his table, motioning to his friends, and they all get up and leave.

jj sits back down in his chair. “i had it under control,” you say to him.

“sure you did, bud,” he says, smiling and patting your shoulder. “but now he really knows not to mess with you.”

you roll your eyes, choosing not to bicker today, and go back to your work.

could you be my best friend? can we be friends?

and you realize you’d been in love with him since you were a little girl, since he pinched your knee as you guys hid in the bushes between your houses, hiding from scary loud parents, that you didn’t understand but didn’t want to. you’d been in love with you since he punched the boy who sat behind you in second grade for flicking your ear, since the first time he let you wear his hoodie when he was cold and the first time he slipped you a $20 to get gas for your car.

but he was your best friend, and you were torn between wanting more and not wanting to ruin what you had.

you had been acting weird. you knew it, jj knew it, kie knew it, pope knew it, people walking by on the street knew it.

“car ride, now,” jj says over the phone, you regret answering. you grunt, slipping on your shoes and grabbing your keys. he’s waiting by the door.

“hey, bud,” he says, extending his fist as always.

you tap your fist with his. “hi, pal.” you’re trying to act as normal as possible, and you’re convinced it’s not working.

you drive for a few minutes, finding comfort in the familiar songs on the radio and the sound of jj’s singing. it feels right.

“hey, pull over for a second,” jj says. you do. he reaches over and turns down the radio. “so,” he turns in his seat so that he’s facing you, “what’s going on with you lately?”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you try to deflect, swallowing a lump in your throat.

“no, no,” he says, shaking his head. “(y/n), you’ve been my best friend since we were four. i know something’s wrong, i just don’t know why you don’t want to tell me.”

“you really wanna know?” he nods. “i love you,” you say, under your breath, looking down at your lap.

“okay, i love you too,” he says, clearly confused.

“no, jj,” shake your head, rubbing your face. you look up at him, your heart is pounding. “like, i’m in love with you.”

he pauses. “are you serious?” you nod. without saying another word, he grabs your face pulling you over the center console to connect his lips with yours. you melt into him, all the tension in your body disappearing. you exhale into him. he pulls away and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. “i’ve wanted to do that since we were twelve.”

“hmm,” you hum, “you definitely should have.”

#writing #mine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj obx #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank angst #kie carrera #kie obx #pope heyward #sarah cameron #john b routledge #rudy pankow #rudy pankow x reader #madison bailey #jonathan daviss #chase stokes #madelyn cline

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m-y-fandoms · 4 years

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Kazuichi Souda x abused reader one-shot

Request: Hi! Can I request a Kazuichi x abused!reader hurt/comfort fic with the reader written gender-neutral? Preferably with them friends at the beginning and then a love confession. I don't have any dealbreakers/things I don't want in there. Thanks!

Thanks for the submission! Kazuichi can be such a sweetheart when he wants to be….and the sharp teeth...purrr. Anyway, the reader’s gender is neutral, so anyone can read this one with themselves in mind! - Mod Kokichi

Triggers and Warnings: thoughts of suicide briefly mentioned, implied sexual and physical abuse, panic attacks, anxiety, sexual assault discussed. Major Spoilers for Danganronpa 2.

Kazuichi Souda had always been a close friend of yours. You grew up in the same middle-class neighborhood, going to the same old boring elementary school, then middle school, and eventually you moved into public high school together. He was the closest thing you had to a brother, and you cared about him more than anyone you could think of. He sat with you on the bus, and as you both grew, you instead walked to and from school together. He was funny, dramatic, flirty, talented, and a compassionate friend. He was the only one in your life interested in your hobby of writing poetry, and while he didn’t really get all the figurative language and metaphors and whatnot, being a man who worked with his hands and not his mind, he supported you and read them all anyway. Kazuichi’s support, boosting your confidence, is what got you to start publishing your poems online regularly, and submitting them to small blogs and huge literary magazines alike. You started to gain a small income for your writing, and it was all because of his prescence and care. He was always hanging out with you in his garage or basement as you typed away on your laptop, and you loved being around him. Problems began as you grew closer, though. Problems for you, at least. Kazuichi, for all his great traits and talents, was not one to take hints, and the more you fell in love with your best friend, the worse your mental health got, knowing in the back of your mind that he’d never feel the same way. Of course, what was going on at home didn’t help the situation.

It seemed that your luck was going to change, when one normal Tuesday, toward the end of sophomore year, you’d gotten word that Hope’s Peak Academy, the best high-school in the country, had a scout looking around your area, which was relatively close to the academy anyway. Within days, both you and Kazuichi had received letters stating that it would be an honor to have you next semester as the incoming Ultimate Poet and Ultimate Mechanic. Of course, you both lost your minds, talking on the phone all night until you abruptly hung up on him in the middle of your sentence. He never asked why, simply thinking your phone cut out, and that he’d see you tomorrow anyway. You came to school late the next day, around lunch time, new scratches under your eye and a bruise on your wrist. When he asked about it, you told him the reason the phone call ended so suddenly was because you’d tripped down your stairs, and the tumble messed up your phone pretty bad, but that you’d have it fixed by tonight! He nodded, accepting the answer and quickly switching to the excitement of starting at Hope’s Peak Academy.

“They have dorms there for students to stay in, pretty sick, huh?” He tapped your lunch tray with his fork, encouraging you to eat before the bell rang and lunch was over. “Now I can sneak over to your room whenever!” He said a little too seductively, seeing your flustered look. “T-to hang out of course and knock out some noobs in PvP! I’ll bring all of my consoles, no doubt, and I can get back into teaching you how to take apart a car!” You smiled weakly before replying, looking at the food in front of you instead of into his eyes.

“Yeah...about that. The dorms are optional, and my parents are forcing me to commute.”

“Wha?!?!?” Souda’s mouth hung open in one of his usual over-dramatic displays. “No fair! That’s ass! Why the hell not? I bet you’ll be the only student not living on campus!” Way to make them feel better, Souda.

“Kazuichi, they just don’t feel comfortable with me living away from home before I’m completely self-sufficient and of legal age. Just…let it go, please,” your voice faded out toward the end, and seeing how serious you were, he let it go, content to pout about it later to himself or try to convince you to try and change your parents’ minds later in the week.

“Can I at least pick you up every morning to bring you on your dumb ass commute to school?” Souda grinned widely after presenting his question. You compromised, letting him have this small victory.

“Sure, Kazu.”

But, nothing changed, it seemed, and the new semester quickly came, with you attending Hope’s Peak Academy with the love of your life...er best friend, Kazuichi Souda. He was in almost all of your classes, refusing to pay attention and flirting with random people, a new crush to obsess over each week. Same old Kazuichi, chasing after the object of his interests endlessly, but it never bothered you much. You knew they were always quick infatuations, with him coming on too strongly, getting rejected, and ultimately spending his whole day with you regardless, complaining to you about his rejection, or dishing info of his new crush. You visited his dorm room, with all of the same excuses for not wanting to sit on his bed to play video games, not wanting to stay too late, not explaining in detail where these bruises where coming from.

Kazuichi, again, wasn’t the most observant guy around. You’d known him since you were both six years old, and he still didn’t know why you’d come to school with puffy red bags under your eyes, why you’d cry at lunch in the bathroom, why you wouldn’t let him high five you or touch shoulders with him on the bus, even though the small seat was a tight squeeze. He always took your excuses at face value, and trusted you, his best bud. It usually went something like this:

Elementary School:

“Y/N...w-why are you crying?”

“My pet fish died last night. I really loved him, Kazu…” you sniffled, pulling yourself together.

Middle School:

“Y/N, where did that bruise come from? Man, that’s a really dark one this time!” He would try to grab your arm and take a closer look, and you’d shrink away.

“P-please don’t touch it! It’s awfully sore! I fell off my bed this morning, it was a pretty rough fall!” You’d chuckle.

Hope’s Peak Academy:

“Hey, Y/N, let’s hang out at your place after school, yeah? My dorm room is really dirty and I think there’s a random fire drill today. Such a hassle.” He smirked wickedly, thinking himself so clever.

“Kazuichi, you’ve known me for like ten years…”

“Yeah…?” he mused.

“And you know my parents don’t let me have friends over. Why did you think this would work now, today, all of a sudden?” you feigned anger, huffing before smiling at him.

“Awww come on, just this once?” He crept up behind you to pounce playfully on your shoulders, and you glided to the side quickly, your back hitting the lockers a little too roughly. Your breath quickened, and he looked at you with wide eyes. “Y/N...geez, are you okay? I wasn’t gonna like take you down in a full- on tackle you know? Just shake you a bit!” He chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck, his sharp teeth showing in that stupid grin you loved.

“Y-you just surprised me is all,” you steadied your breathing, hoping to avoid an all out panic attack. Come on, get it together, Y/N, you thought to yourself. Not in front of him, anyone but him. “But, anyway,” you moved back to his side, not close enough to touch, of course, “ you know my parents are really strict and extreme germaphobes. They barely want me living there, making a mess,” you laughed nervously, and Kazuichi remained silent, his mind racing. “Kazu…?”

“Oh, y-yeah! What? Oh, yeah, I know. Your folks sure are nuts, huh? You’d think they’d be like super psyched that you got into Hope’s Peak and be proud of you or some shit, and let you have more freedom..or at least less-strict rules. Man, they are so unreasonable. It’s crazy...”

He had no idea…

He walked you home, telling you he would pick you up around six to hang out with a small group of your friends at the local diner, but since he busted his dad’s car trying to improve it, he’d have to let Nekomaru drive. You nodded, telling him you couldn’t wait, before entering your prison for the afternoon. You immediately ran to your room and locked it, not that it ever helped when your dad had a master key, and when he was drunk, even that didn’t even matter. No need for a key when you can just aggressively bust the door open, breaking the lock. You’d asked Kazuichi if he knew how to fix a lock, him of course offering to come over and fix it, but fearing he’d ask too many questions and get too close to the truth, you quickly shut him up and said you’d Youtube a tutorial. You did, and spent your own money on the tools and materials needed to fix it. Even though it didn’t do much to stop your rampaging father, something about the small comfort of having a locked door gave you the hope that maybe one day...maybe one day, he’d figure it was too much work to bother with, and retreat back into his room.

“Dude, why do they hate me so much?” Kazuichi sighed, leaning on the door of Nekomaru’s car and looking angrily out the window. Even if he wasn’t being overly dramatic on purpose, with Nekomaru’s size, he was left squished and forced to lean on the door anyway.

“HAHA, man, you’re being ridiculous! You know that’s bullshit. Y/N’s known you longer than any of us, and you know they adore you!” Nekomaru laughed, driving a little faster then he should down the suburban street.

“Well, they don’t ‘adore’ me they way I do them, ya know? Am I ugly? I’m ugly, aren’t I?”

“I think you’re objectively attractive!” Nekomaru shouted his support.

“T-then why the hell don’t they like me like that?! Man, I’ve spent years with Y/N, I compliment them, I love reading their poetry, and I don’t even like poetry! I spend all my free time with them! There’s no one I’d rather be around! They even like watching me work on my dad’s dinky ass car! Who wants to watch that?!”

“Souda...have you even told Y/N that you like them like that?!” Nekomaru smirked.

“Well...no.” He sheepishly admitted, then gained his indignant tone back, “Hell no! I can’t do that! I mean, I’ve had crushes before, people I’ve wanted to smash or make out with, o-or take out to dinner, but nothing...nothing like this!”

“You love ‘em? Y/N, I mean,” Nekomaru asked rather quietly, for once, deadly serious. Kazuichi went silent. The silence hung in the air for a few minutes. “I mean, ten years is a long time to know someone, enough time to fall in love…” he trailed off. Kazuichi puffed out his cheeks, ever stubborn, tracing his finger on the window. A good while passed with the two men in silence on the way to your house.

“A-anyway, they won’t even let me fuckin’ touch ‘em. Ten years, and you know what I’ve got? Maybe one high five, an accidental bump when chilling at my place. I’ve got shit! Always a reason we can’t hug or arm wrestle and…..And! They never let me go to their place! Like, what is that? They say it’s their parents’ rule but like c’mon, ten years? I know that’s a lie. They just don’t want me there. Don’t trust me, or think I’m a creep or annoying or…” He trailed off, getting a little too upset by his own words.

“Maybe there’s a reason for that... You put too little faith in them, but, anyway, I think you’re overthinking it, pal. I mean, you never know what someone’s feeling until you ask, and you’ve never asked. You think my players just go out on the field with a sprained ankle without telling me, or me askin’ if there’s a reason they are limping? NO! Communication is key to any type of relationship! You’ve known them longer then me, would it really hurt to ask them out?! Or confess your feelings?!

But he never did, for fear of a rejection more brutal than he could ever handle. He couldn’t risk making things so awkward that you disappeared from his life, and so, you and Kazuichi Souda, two idiots madly in love, remained friends. Friends that never touched.

But then, you woke up to sun in your eyes, blistering heat and humid air soaking through your long sleeve sweater. You sat up quickly, feeling sand trickle down your turtleneck and run through your fingers.

“What the hell?” Upon standing, fear quickly set in when you took in the sight of some white-haired guy you didn’t know talking to some brunette with a white shirt that you also didn’t know. They turned to you, hearing you stir from your sleep.

“Ah, you’re up and about!” The white-haired boy smiled gently, his eyes crinkling closed. “We decided to let everyone wake at their own pace before exploring. You were the last one, so that’s why no one else but us is here. This is Hajime Hinata, and I’m Nagito Komaeda, a pleasure to meet you.” He held out his hand, approaching you, but you simply looked at it, pulling your arms into your chest. “Oh, I’m sorry. Not one for introductions, huh?” He put his finger to his lip, looking up slightly with a pensive expression, “ or maybe you’re just a bit shaken up? Hey, that’s fine. I can try to get Usami over here to give you the run-down like she did for the rest of us!” He smiled again, the other boy, Hajime, looking as confused and uncomfortable as you were.

“Rest of us? How many others? Where are we? I w-was just walking into Hope’s Peak for my first day of class and then I...well I guess I must have passed out. I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Ah, Y/N, I think I saw your name on the class roster online! Your poetry was wonderful, by the way. I read a lot of it online. It’s so hope-inspiring. Yep, we’re classmates for sure. And about that whole passing out thing, it’s the same for all of us, we don’t really know what happened,” Nagito continued.

“All of us? Who? Nagito, who do you keep talking about?” You were growing impatient and scared.

“The rest of our class,” Hajime spoke up, seeing your frustration, crossing his arms over his chest, “Nagito was about to come with me to meet them all. He apparently did already.”

Then it clicked.

“The rest of our class? For the new semester at Hope’s Peak right?” Your heart was going a mile a minute, panic setting in, but a seed of hope planting itself and pushing forth your next words. “Nagito, do you remember all of their names? Was one of them Kazuichi Souda? Pink hair, Ultimate Mechanic?” Nagito nodded plainly. “Take me to him, now...please.”

You sat in your cottage at the hotel resort on Jabberwock Island that night, it’s breezy, calming beach aesthetic making you sick to your stomach. It was all a big fucking lie, a mask to cover the scent of death that lingered around the island and carried itself on the wind. That stupid ass bear decorated the place to look like a tropical paradise, complete with complimentary meals and essentials at an all-you-could-want supermarket, but it all was a ploy, a trick. You’d be a fool to trust anything or anyone but Souda in the coming weeks.

Speaking of Souda, after Monokuma had thoroughly harassed Usami...or Monomi or whatever, announced the killing game, and sent you all to your cottages with nothing but fear and an electronic tablet, Souda had been in and out of your room, checking on you and venting about his own worries. You two talked for hours, then he’d go and shower, then he’d come back, and you’d get food from the restaurant nearby and bring it back to your cottage to hopefully eat safely together behind your locked door. Souda was usually your rock, but it was no use this time around. He was no knight in shining armor, and could only do so much to cheer you both up. He was nearly pissing his pants in fear of your situation, and you couldn’t blame him.

Neither of you knew what had happened, or how you’d gotten here, though you tried to recall it all night with him until your brains hurt. There was no memory beyond the first day of school, walking into the entrance hall. There were no classes, no commuting to school, no hang-outs in his dorm, and most importantly, no conversation between him and Nekomaru.

Days passed and you noticed Souda coming to your room less and less, and being more distant when he did show up. You thought maybe it was just this killing game getting to his head, making him more aloof and prone to spacing out, until you finally exited your cottage alone for the first time one afternoon to join the others at the restaurant at Byakuya’s request. Apparently, there was going to be a meeting. Everyone would be there, so for a killing to occur was highly unlikely, with everyone as a witness.

You crept into the restaurant, skittish and on edge. Your head was on a swivel all the way there until you saw Kazuichi sitting with everyone else, an entranced look on his face. You knew this look all too well, and followed his gaze to none other than the Ultimate Princess herself, Sonia Nevermind. Oh boy, really Kazu...in the middle of a fucking murder vacation??? Really??? You scoffed, always surprised by this boy you’d known for so long, but you shouldn’t have been at this point. Same old Souda…

You sat by him, expecting a toothy grin and welcome as always, but he just kept...staring at Sonia as your little meeting was about to start. You were all just waiting on a few more people.

“Kazu.” You whispered, reaching out to poke him but pulling away at the last second. He didn’t move a muscle. “Kazuichi!” You said a built louder, tapping the table in front of him.

“Oh! Uh, hey Y/N, what’s up? Sorry I didn’t come over for breakfast. I was uh….distracted,” and just like that his gaze went back to Sonia, practically drooling over her. Fuyuhiko, the little yakuza, and Peko Pekoyama, the master swordswoman were the last to enter, and the meeting commenced.

Byakuya and Hajime were the main voices of reason and the evident leaders of your pack. Byakuya was planning a party, and he wanted you all there to discuss your plans for escape further and get closer to one another so that hopefully an unkillable bond was formed. You’d all be in the same place, and there would be no weapons or objects that could potentially be dangerous. Teruteru would make the food, Nagito would clean up the place beforehand.

You could hardly focus on the conversation as your emotions were starting to bubble up. Every single time Sonia suggested an addition to the plan or agreed with someone, Kazuichi spoke up too, supporting her with big sparkling goo goo eyes

What the hell was this? You seethed, stewing in your seat. He always had new crushes, that was normal, but he usually just watched them intently and staked their social media then confessed way too soon to them and got rejected and told you all about them later on in private when you were inevitably together all day afterw- wait...was this why he wasn’t visiting your cottage as much? Is this why he wasn’t talking to you as much as usual? A stupid crush? What was wrong with him. He never acted this way, not this bad. You were starting to worry...

You looked at him, your eyes on fire as he continued to faun over Princess Nevermind and her fucking perfect flowing blonde hair and fucking perfect voice and-

“Alright, you’re all dismissed.” Byakuya wrapped up the meeting, and everyone began to disperse. Kazuichi jumped up, rushing over to ask Miss Sonia if she wanted him to walk her home. You were fuming at that point, finding this whole scene unbelievable, and stomped to your cottage alone.

The next night, Byakuya Togami was murdered at his own party, and Teruteru was fried to a crisp in front of your eyes. You broke down in a full-on panic attack after that first trial, in your locked room alone, having showered and gotten into bed immediately after, deciding to never leave this room again. Kazuichi came knocking the next day, asking if you wanted to explore the new island that Monokuma opened up with him and Sonia, but you coldly refused, almost slamming the door in his face.

Eventually, you were forced out of your room by Monokuma’s mandatory motive meetings, and Kazuichi always stood by Sonia, saying one or two words to you before you left.

You curled up in your bed again, alone that night.

How could this happen? Your own thoughts enshrouded you, swirling around like black smoke of despair. Why is he doing this…? Is he- maybe he’s finally in love for real...no, not Kazuichi. He’s supposed to be mine...my best friend. Does ten years mean nothing to him? How could he do this?! She clearly doesn’t even like him back! Your anger and self-pity was turning into blind rage. It took everything you had to not scream at the top of your lungs and start throwing things. As you began to drift off into sleep, you told yourself that if you didn’t start looking on the bright side, you were going to end up dead, maybe by your own hands.

Maybe this is just a crush after all, just...this killing game has pushed his emotions into over-drive too! Yeah, that’s it! He’s forcing himself to look on his own bright side, and this little crush is his way of staying sane...but why wouldn’t he just come to you to stay sane? Why couldn’t you be his bright side? You were always his confidant, and him yours….stop! Stop it Y/N, happy thoughts. Your dad can’t get you here. He won’t be sneaking in your room at night. You can sleep soundly...unless a classmate busts in to murder you.

“Fuck!” You cried out, deciding to stay up the entire night writing poetry on the notepad by your bed. “I’ll get out of this. We will get out of this, me and Kazu. Surely no one is gonna kill again after how rough that first trial was…”

And then Mahiru died, and then you watched Peko die, and Fuyuhiko was taken away by Monokuma’s little ambulance.

As you exited the trial grounds this time around, you all walked in a small huddle back to the cottages, your spirits shot, despair taking over. Kazuichi was just close enough to you to get a few words in through the awkward silence.

“H-hey, that one was pretty rough, huh? Worst then the last. I mean, I actually discovered the body this time...it was traumatizing, you know?”

“I don’t know, why don’t you go tell Sonia about it!” You spat, rather loudly for the timid friend he knew. The rest of the group mostly ignored you, a few uncomfortable glances in your direction.

“What do you mean? I’m telling you right now, I can talk to her later,” he chuckled apprehensively, hands in the pockets of his jumpsuit.

“Why not go tell her now? What, did she finally tell you to fuck off, so you’re falling back on your back-up mode of getting attention?!” Arriving at the entrance of the resort, your group stepped through. The all could feel the awkwardness in the air, but none more then Sonia, her name being mentioned more than once.

“Y/N, w-where is this coming from?” Kazuichi’s eyes widened at your harsh words.

“I know you’re not fucking serious! It’s Sonia, Sonia, Sonia all day every day but now you wanna talk to me? Oh gee, thanks! After ten fucking years I’m glad you’ve decided I earned this conversation. I’m honored!” The group looked toward you two, keeping their distance, some of them sweating, some chuckling at Souda’s expense

“Looks like the idiot grease monkey messed up big time,” Hiyoko giggled behind her kimono sleeve with an evil smile before Hajime urged the others to just mind their business and head to their rooms. Surprisingly, they all listened, too sad and tired to argue or grab their popcorn to watch this entertaining display. You two were left alone there, Kazuichi completely frozen with pure terror.

“Y/N, I-“

“Fuck you, Kazuichi! We’re being murdered one by one, and you drop me for a fucking infatuation over some Barbie?!” You knew you shouldn’t be blaming Sonia at all or bringing her into this with insults, but you were so infuriated that you’d have to let the guilt sink in later and apologize to her. He tried to approach you, reaching out. “Don’t fucking touch me! Don’t even look at me! From now on, I’m looking out for only myself! You leave me alone, you hear? Sonia can be your one and only! You saw how Fuyuhiko felt about losing Peko, his closest friend? Well...I was hoping that wouldn’t have to be us…” you let him fill in the rest of your sentence in his imagination, as your voice faltered, tears springing up.

“Y/N, don’t cry...please.”

“Goodnight Kazuichi,” and you walked swiftly past him, slamming the door to your cottage.

The next night, Kazuichi and the others visited Fuyuhiko in the hospital on the new island while you stayed in your room, but Souda lingered after everyone left, hoping to get some alone time with the injured yakuza. He told Fuyuhiko of his situation with you from the beginning: the bruises, not letting him come over, shrinking away fron any and all touch, his love for you, his feeling of imminent rejection every time he thought about confessing. To his surprise, Fuyuhiko, having lost the bite in his voice along with Peko, merely listened, then, being more intuitive and aware of obvious signs, told Kazucihi that you were most likely being abused at home, and didn’t want him to know. Kazuichi felt like his soul left his body...what? How could he have missed this?

Fuyuhiko had seen it a lot growing up, the fellow sons of other yakuza members getting beat on by their aggressive dads, the daughters being touched inappropriately by other members or rival clans, the aftermath, the behaviors. He spoke his piece, his advice, and after a long man-to-man talk...one full of Fuyuhiko’s regrets, of Peko’s dutiful ignorance of her own feelings, and a lifetime of friendship that yearned to be maybe just a bit more, Kazuichi knew what he had to do.

A knock on your door that night startled you from your nap. You ignored it. The knock came again, much louder, more desperate this time.

“Monokuma didn’t say there was a new motive and I already ate dinner, so leave me alone!” You yelled to whoever it was, assuming it may be Hajime asking for another meeting for yet another faulty escape plan.

“It’s...it’s me,” his voice cracked. Your face heated up, in anger or sadness, you didn’t know…

“Go away!”

“Please. Please, Y/N...just this once. I need to talk to you. I need to.” You stood up, walking to the door and placing your weary head against it to hear him better.

“I don’t want to talk. You’re making this harder on us both. Let’s just make this a clean break, that way, if one of us dies, it won’t hurt as much.”

“Are you fucking serious? Won’t hurt as much? Are you crazy?! Losing you would be the worst thing that ever happened to me!” Your eyes widened, tears threatening to fall, “I don’t…” he calmed himself, a bit embarrassed of how much his voice wavered. “I don’t want a clean break and neither do you so open up, or I’ll sit here all night.”

“You idiot! You can’t! You’re a sitting duck outside alone at night.” Why did you care? You’d chosen to end your friendship.

“Then...then I guess I’ll just wait to be murdered. I’m not moving. I mean, I’m scared. I don’t wanna die, but-“ the door swung open, Kazuichi suddenly face to face with your sleep deprived eyes. He nodded, walking in and sitting on your bed. You closed the door and locked it, standing against the door in a very defensive stance. “Please, come sit.”

“No.”

“Please!” You saw fresh tears sting his eyes now, and you gave in, sitting a few feet apart on your bed and refusing to make eye contact.

“What do you want?”

“I think you know what I want.” He spoke rather confidently for his current emotional state. Your heart skipped a beat and you sat there silently. He continued. “Why did you never let me come to your house?” What? Why was he bringing this up now?

“What do you mean? This is what you wanted to talk abo-“

“Just answer me!”

“I told you many times, my parents were strict and-“

“That’s a lie. What were all the bruises from? The random scratches and bandaids popping up randomly?”

“Kazuichi, don’t-“ you were starting to breath heavy, fearing your blissfully oblivious friend was finally catching on to your dark secrets.

“Why won’t you let me touch you? Ten years, and I couldn’t hug the person I...my best friend...I couldn’t even touch you! Why is that?!” He was so furious, more at your father for hurting you than you for hiding this from him when he could’ve stepped in and helped. The usual up-and-down tonation, the random cracks and stutters when he was nervous, were nowhere to be found.

“Kazu, PLEASE-”

“It’s because your dad was touching you, right?! And you didn’t want anyone to know!” He spat, and you collapsed forward into his arms, sobbing freely into his chest. He froze at the contact at first, completely in shock. You sniveled and drooled into his chest, barely breathing, you were shaking so hard. Slowly, his arms closed in on you, wrapped around tightly, and you let him, as he leaned back until you were laying on his chest face-down, soaking his jumpsuit and undershirt.

“Y/N…just breathe.” After a few moments he spoke, letting your sobs die down into little whimpers. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was humiliated. I was scared. I didn’t want you to look at me differently, like I was pitiful or tainted.”

“That’s insane and you know it. I would never judge you for something your fucked up dad forced on you. Was he hit hitting you too or just…”

“Yes...all the time.”

“I could’ve gotten you out of there, into a shelter or living with me. My parents aren’t the best but they’d understand-“

“I didn’t want you to deal with that. I didn’t want you to know any of it.”

“Deal with that? What, you? Deal with you? Y/N…” he trailed off, scared when that old friend, rejection sat in back of his mind.

“What, Kazu?” you needed to hear it. Your life depended on it at this point.

“I...I love you. It’s not ‘dealing’. I want to help you, I want to love you. I’ve wanted to touch you, like this…” Your heart rate, finally having calmed down from your tantrum, started up again.

“Kazu…”

“I’m sorry I didn’t know. I should’ve known, but I chose to be oblivious and mess around with our friendship like an idiot.”

“Stop, Kazuichi. None of what happened to me was your fault. I won’t allow you to think otherwise. Don’t you dare.”

“I could’ve stopped it, though.”

“That’s in the past now...and to be honest, it feels...good.”

“Good?” He was immensely confused by how any of this could be considered good.

“A relief, I mean...Kazu, no one knew. Nobody knew about it. I wanted to tell you. For so long I’ve wanted to, and to tell you that, I love you too.” He pulled you both into a sitting position, wanting to see your eyes and make sure you were for real. “It feels less painful, now that you know the truth. It still hurts, what my dad did will always leave scars on my heart and body but-” Kazuichi let all of his fears blow away in the wind, leaning down and gently pressing his lips into yours. Tears ran down your face as you closed your eyes and let yourself be absorbed by his love. He pulled away, allowing you to finish your thought:

“- I’m not afraid anymore.”

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optimistic-dinosaur-nacho · 4 years

Text

Impress Me

Jake Jensen x Single Mom!Reader

Warnings: Language, Porn Mentions (Use of MILF) Summary: All you wanted was to go to your daughter’s soccer game and an couple of assholes took their damn time to get rid of their abnormally large hummer. The driver happened to be a bit attractive and end up your way again.

Nothing like a nice Jake Jensen fic for all you beautiful people out there!

This is a true story that happened yesterday, the guy parked like an asshole with a large hummer and to tell you, our town is not a big place so there is no point on driving a large vehicle to show off chicks. It ain’t cool.

Unless you’re Jake Jensen and/or Chris Evans

You were rushing around the house, searching every room for the item that had been missing since. Your daughter, Ava, couldn’t stop asking for it. It was important for her game. “Mom, have you found them yet?” She shouts from the living room. You groan at her last and final shout as you lifted yourself up from looking under the bed.

“No, Ava!” You sighed, “You sure you didn’t leave them at grandma’s house?” Your sister comes in and she already had your daughter’s duffel bag. “The game doesn’t start in another hour. You can stop at the sports shop and get new cleats.”

You groan and turn to see your daughter and sister. “Okay. Sweetheart, I’m gonna grab you new ones, okay?”

Ava pouts, “But I loved those shoes.”

You roll your eyes, “Ava, just this one time, okay? After this, we can call grandma. Do you remember what size you got?” Your sister looks at you strangely while your daughter crosses her arms, “As a mom, shouldn’t you know that?”

You nod awkwardly and turned, “Yeah, um, Liz, can you take her there? I’ll meet you guys there.” Your sister nods and reaches for your daughter, “Come on, Ava. Let’s go.” Your daughter follows your sister out and you let out a sigh. Taking another look in every room, searching every crevice and no sign of your daughters shoes.

And they were neon yellow shoes, you could’ve saw them anywhere with the bright highlight.

With that said, you took your keys and hopped in the car. Luckily the sports shop was not that far from the field where your daughter would be playing at. Your sister kept you updated that Ava’s shoes weren’t in her car or the bag. You knew they had to be at your mom’s house.

Maybe at your ex-husband’s house. Shit. Not long ago, you filed the papers. It was nothing involved with your daughter. You both started to fade apart. He wasn’t rude or a penniless guy. There was something you both knew it wasn’t gonna keep up.

Especially for Ava, you both shut down for some reason.

After that, you had custody for Ava but she always visited her father 5 times a month. Soccer was coming from her dad. He taught her everything and he signed her up for soccer. He still supported her. You liked him for that.

He came to games if he could. His work always got to him, but he always made plans for Ava. You just never saw yourself having a future with him no more. But for Ava. Of course.

You pulled into the parking lot just in front of the store, seeing people go in and out of it as you rummaged in your bag for your card and you lifted your sunglasses on top of your head.

You stepped out and rushed in, asking the worker where the soccer shoes were, he happily took you over. Shin guards, soccer balls, jersey’s, you found the cleats just on the end. You almost bump into a couple of men in the aisle. One of them let out a ‘woah’.

“Sorry,” You say kindly, the man grins, “You’re good, ma’am.” The three other men, one wore a cowboy hat, one with a grey beard but looked intimidating and a taller man who look twice as much. A woman happened to be with them as well.

“Pooch,” The beard man says as you raced down the hall, the man turns, “What?” The two men shook their heads at the guy. “Have you guys seen Jensen?” You ignore their conversation and searched the right size of shoes. You spot the ones that looked like your daughter’s.

You reached up and take them in hand, immediately running back to the cashier. You reached for your phone and see a text from your sister. They’re already stretching on the field. You groan and did all your swiping and pin code. Not taking your receipt, you ran out the door.

Coming to a stop once you met the front of your car, you groan.

A hummer parked next to yours. “How am I-?” You throw your arms up and sighed. You hear someone come by and they head to the hummer. “Excuse me,” You ask, the man turns and jerks his chin up. “Yeah?”

You point, “Is this your hummer?”

The man turns to the large car and nods, “Yeah?” You point toward your car, this time, “I can’t get in my car. Can you park somewhere else?” The man walks up to meet your side and see the problem. He then points, “I’m in the line, so I don’t think it’s a problem. Just squeeze through. You look small enough to do it.”

You gawk at him, “Excuse me?”

The man holds his hands up, “Sorry. Just hop in your passenger seat and slide in-”

“Just move the damn hummer!” You say, the man laughs and reached for his chest. “I have friends inside, can you just wait for a couple minutes. They’ll be out in a second.”

“I’m in a rush! My daughter has a game!”

He nods, “I can see that. I can go grab my friends and I’ll move the hummer.” You would’ve kicked the front of his car, pull the crowbar that hadn’t been used for a situation like this from your trunk and go psycho. All you could do was throw your arm up, “Fine. Asshole.” You walk to your passenger side and threw your purse in the back.

You start to lean in till you lifted your head up to look at him again, “You know, this town doesn’t feel impressed by your huge ass vehicle. It just makes you more of an asshole.”

The man puts his hands on his hips and quirks a grin, “I wasn’t trying to impress anyone. But I’m glad you kept me informed about it.” You hopped in the passenger seat and would’ve been in the most awkward situation when the man watched you slide your ass into the driver’s seat.

You sighed heavily, turning on your car and stared at the man. You look down to the center console and saw your drink. Your eyes lifted up to him.

You rolled your window down and grabbed your cup. “Hey, asshole!” You called out, the man and held the cup out. “How’s this to impress you?” The man’s face drops when you open the lid.

“No, wait-!” You dump the drink over the side of his hummer and you threw the cup on the floor of your car and pulled out. The man reaches for his head and drops them to look at you. You didn’t look back. But hell, did it feel good. Never in your life ever stood up like that for an asshole. But why the heck did he look good?

He groans to see the liquid drip down the side of the hummer as his friends come out.

“Hey, Jensen, you ready-? Woah, what happened here?” Pooch asks, seeing the spill on the door. Roque sighs, “Who’d you piss off this time?” He asks, Jensen shook his head and opens the door. “Just shut up, we’re gonna be late for my niece’s game.”

The group look at each other and gave questioned looks before jumping in.

“Mom!” Ava calls, you rush over to her and sat her down. “Here, let me help,” You got down on your knee and began to slip on her new shoes, tying them and making sure they were a perfect fit. You thanked God they did. Ava grins, “Thanks, mama.”

You grin and nod, “You’re welcome. Now, go have fun.” Ava smiles, jumping onto her feet to head on the field with her team. Her pink jersey with the number 5, you loved seeing her in her jersey. She sometimes wore it around the house and knew how passion for soccer.

You always saw your ex-husband in her.

Somewhere in the bleachers, someone was bursting out in laughter before slapping the man’s shoulder beside them. “You pissed off a woman for not moving the hummer? You really are a dick-”

“Hey, some people should be able to use that rock in their head that they call a brain,” Jensen says, glaring at Pooch. Cougar leans over, “Roque’s right, though. You really made a dick move.”

Jensen shakes his head, turning to the field to see his niece out in her pink jersey with the Petunias. He sees another girl run for the group and playfully tackles his neice making him grin. His eyes seemed to follow where the girl had ran from, seeing a familiar woman on the sideline.

“Shit,” He grits.

Pooch turns, “What’s up, now?” Jensen leans back a bit and inhales, “She’s here.” All three men, Pooch, Roque and Cougar look around. “Oh, shit! Where? Is she cute? Hot?” Pooch asks.

Cougar used his binoculars and spots her. “Hey, she’s the girl Pooch was flirting with.” Pooch glares, “What? I was not! Give me that!” He snatches the binoculars and looks down. “Oh yeah...” He says, seeing you walk up to the bleachers.

“That’s her?” Pooch asks, staring at Jensen who shook his head. “What a coincidence that her daughter is friend’s with my niece.” Roque pats Jensen’s back like a proud man, “A mom? Is she single?” Jensen grimaces at him. Pooch cackles, “Ah-ha! This man got himself a MILF-!”

“Can you guys shut up? We’re at a kids game!” Jensen shouts, the parents around the group glare at them, causing all of them to shut up for a second. Jensen leans back to the boys, “I don’t know if she’s single. What I do know is that you all are thinking the wrong thing.”

Roque chuckles, “You turned red the second you saw her-”

“You know, I’m gonna move down,” Jensen began to stand up and move while Roque grabs him before he could. “Ah-ah. No, you aren’t. You’re watching her,” He says, Jake shakes his head. “I’m not watching her. What do you think I am, a freak?”

“Be sure to wave,” Roque waves over to you and Jensen turns to see your face look over and he immediately leans back. “Roque, dammit!” He grits. Luckily you don’t notice Roque waving as you turned away and spoke to your sister. Pooch purrs, “Ooh. She’s got a friend.”

“Guys, can you cut that out. The game is about to start.”

You sigh in relief and watched your daughter run to the sideline with her group. Your sister turns to you, “What’s up with you?” You turn to her and furrowed your brows. “What?”

She grins, “Look, your daughter’s out there and that Hummer asshole is not gonna bother you anymore. Just let it go.” You shook your head and saw that the game began to start. With that, you quietly watched the game and cheered when the Petunias made a goal.

Halfway through the game, the Petunias were in the lead. Ava was on a roll and you were proud of her. The other team looked defeated but the kids were all tired. You were sure Ava was tired as well.

You watched as Ava took the ball from the other team causing you to jump up. “Yes!” You shout, “Go baby!” You watched as the other girl beside her runs to her side.

Roque touched Jensen’s shoulder and pointed, “Look.” Jensen turns to you on your feet, cheering. Jensen looked out to the field and saw what had to be your kid. She had the ball, but then he noticed his niece run up and collides with your daughter. “Oh!” His boys all say loudly as the two girls fall on the field.

Jensen stands up, “I gotta-Hey!” Your sister stands up as you rush down the bleachers to your daughter on the ground. The coach blows her whistle. “Ava! Hey, are you okay?” You asked, your daughter nods while you look to the other girl.

Number 21.

“Hey, sweetie, you alright?” You hear clamoring behind you, a man runs up to what may be his kid. “Hey, you alright?” He asks, he lifts up his head to see you. Your sister runs up, “Excuse me? Your daughter needs to watch where she runs-” You stammer toward your sister yelling. Jensen furrows his brows, “She was trying to help! The field is slippery, I saw her slip.”

“Liz-”

“Well, tell your daughter to watch her footing,” Your sister grabs your daughter’s shoulder and guides her to the bench. “She’s my niece, actually,” Jensen adds. You watched him as he nods once, “Hi. Nice to see you again.” You turn away and followed your sister to have Ava sit down for the rest of the game.

Jensen checked on his niece and made it back to his friends, Clay was laughing. “Wow, that was a scene to watch.” Pooch cackles, “Her sister was feisty. What’d she say?” He asks. Jensen sits down and looks over to you and your daughter.

Going back to watch the game. Luckily the Petunias had won and Ava was feeling a bit better after she hit her head pretty hard. With enough water, you took your daughter’s gear and packed it up.

You settled Ava in the back of your car, “Wait, mom,” She says, stopping you from closing the door. You nod, “What’s wrong?”

“I forgot my bottle at the bench,” She says. You look over to the field, seeing a couple of people leaving and packing up. You gave her a nod, “I’ll go look for it. The air is on so you can stay cool. I’ll be back.” Ava nods as you closed the door and made your way back to the field.

Everyone seemed to be gone and emptied the field for you to be able to search for a bright blue bottle.

You checked the bench where you last sat, you peer up on the bleachers to see water bottles, other things but not your daughter’s water bottle. You sighed till someone spoke up.

“I’m assuming you’re looking for this,” A familiar voice said, you turn to see the hot blonde guy you dumped your whole drink on his hummer. He grins, eyes squinting from the sun shining in his face. “Your daughter is number 5, I saw her little name on the bottom of the bottle with her number. I thought I’d have to chase you or meet you at another game.”

You take the bottle into your hand and grinned slightly, “Thank you.”

He shoves his hands in his pockets and you held the bottle tight in your hands. He nods, “Not trying to impress you with my charms, this is just being nice for you. You seem kind of out of it today.”

“Yeah, I-...” You shake your head, “I’m sorry I dumped my drink over your car. I was just stressed from the past week and-”

He lifts his hand up, “It’s all right. I understand. I know a thing or two about chasing soccer gear for family.”

You grinned, “She’s your niece?” Jake turns to his niece down the field with his buds all cheering for her, he nods. “Yeah, my sister is on a business trip. I know how passionate my niece is with soccer. Your daughter is one tough player. She took the hit like no other. I’d see them cry after.”

You smiled, “Yeah, well, she gets it from her father.” Jensen didn’t notice a man with you during the game. Was he the type to not make it? So much for making a move by Roque’s advice to apologize and ask you out.

“Didn’t make it?” He asked.

You peer up at him in question. He lowers his head, “Sorry.” You look down at your daughter’s bottle and sighed. “He only sees her 5 times a month.” Jensen glances up to you again. “Makes it to a couple games and he spends time with her on the field to practice,” You say.

Jensen nods and turns to see his friends were gone. He turns back to you and grins, “Can I take you back to your car?” You didn’t know this side of this guy. And hell, you felt even more bad on how this guy was nice but can be such an asshole sometimes.

He was like no other.

You agreed and walked back to the lot with him, “The name’s Jensen, by the way. Jake Jensen,” He says, you look over, “My friends call me by my last but you don’t have to.”

You pull the corner of your lip and nodded, “I’ll decide on it.” Jake smiles at you and the two of you look forward to see the same hummer beside your car. Just like last time. Jensen curses under his breath. Roque opens the driver door and peaks out. “Aye, Jensen, what took you so long?” He asks, a huge grin forming on his lips. Jake turns to you to see the silent glare as he nods, “I’ll move the hummer this time.” You grin.

“You better.”

You watch as he rushes over to the front seat, pushing Roque into the back. He rolls his window down and pulls out, giving you the chance to hop in your car. With a small grin, you opened your car door. Jensen grins, “You know, if you really wanted to impress me, you find the day to go out!” He says.

You lightly laugh and shook your head. “I’ll see you at the next game, Hummer boy.” Jensen rolls the window back up with a smile as you hopped in your car. Your daughter completely confused.

“Who was that?” You turned on your car with a small smile, “A new friend.” Ava leans back in her seat and looks out the window, nodding. “I like him.” You hear from her, causing you to look in the rear view mirror to see her eyes look out the window. You then pull out.

“You asked out a single mom?” Pooch asks, he pats Jensen’s shoulder, “Way to go, man!”

“Hummer boy? Looks like someone’s got a nickname,” Roque laughs making everyone in the car laugh. Jensen shakes his head, “It was a joke, now shut up, I’m driving.” Through the rest of the day, his buds teased him, pushed him around like he was the young guy in the group.

Here comes the comments for part 2

Official Taglist:

@jtargaryen18 @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @chrisevans-imagines @donutloverxo @axen-gers @captainchrisbaby @patzammit @bucksgoat @la-cey @void-hoechlin @lovepeacefood @stargazingfangirl18 @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @stop-obsessing-over-those-actors @star-spangled-beard-burn @nickysurfer28 @nbarnes @mcntsee @adriannajackson @chuckbass-love @sebbystanlover-vk @onetwo3000 @captainamerica-is-bae @cheeseburgersstuff @iguessweallcrazyithinktho @rororo06 @elliee1497 @navybrat817 @waywardodysseys @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @this-is-a-chilis-drive-thru @what-is-your-plan-today

#jake jensen x reader #jake jensen x you #jake jensen x y/n #jensen x you #jensen x reader #the losers #optimistic-dinosaur-nacho #opti-dino-nacho #opti-dino-nacho drabbles #opti-dino-nacho series

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years

Text

A Place To Call Home: Father’s Day

Summary: It’s the reader’s first father’s day after being adopted and Jensen decides to make it an extra special one for them both...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x foster daughter!reader

Square: Daddy!Jensen

Word Count: 3,400ish

Warnings: language, angst, fluff

A/N: I was in the mood to revisit these guys again!...

A/N #2: Also written for @spndeanbingo

_______

“Hey,” said Jensen, knocking on the door to your room. You kept your back to him from where you lay on your bed and felt a hand gently rest on your forehead. “Feeling okay, honey? You’ve been quieter than normal today.”

“Sorry,” you said. The bed dipped behind you and you felt his back press against yours.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” he said, running his hand over your head. “Want to go on a ride with me?”

“It’s after eight,” you said.

“You stay up until midnight every night plus it’s summer. Come on. Pretty please? We’ll get ice cream on the way home,” he said. “The really bad for you kind too.”

“Jensen, not today, please,” you said. “Maybe tomorrow night.”

“Nope. Tonight. Unless you’re dying, we’re going out. End of discussion,” he said, ruffling your head. You groaned and sat up, following him to the garage and slipping into a pair of flip flops, following him into his SUV. A few minutes later you were driving towards the east side of town and you were frowning.

“I thought the place we go to is near home,” you said.

“The ice cream place is. But we have to go somewhere else first,” he said, turning on the radio to a quiet station.

“I’m sorry I burnt the bacon this morning,” you said.

“Oh, it was a little over done was all,” he said.

“It was black. You looked like you wanted to throw up,” you said.

“Maybe it was a little burnt. But you guys made me breakfast for father’s day all on your own and my eggs were delicious. I loved it,” he said.

“Jensen. It’s just me. You don’t have to pretend,” you said.

“I’m not pretending. My four kids made me breakfast for the first time and considering three of them are still very small, I think it was pretty fantastic,” he said.

“Whatever,” you said, leaning your head against the window. You saw him reach his hand over and hold it open on the center console in your periphery. “What do you want? I’m not holding your fucking hand like some five year old child.”

“Alright,” he said, leaving it there as he drove. You watched the lights and houses go by, catching part of the city before you were past it and well into the eastern part of town. He drove far, right to the outskirts before you saw a sign and sat up. You swallowed as he continued into the small community there, getting off of the highway and main road, taking a few twists and turns before you saw where you were going.

You were quiet as he pulled into the place and drove for while, stopping after a moment and turning the car off. He hopped out and went to the trunk, taking something out and then knocking on your window.

“Well come on,” he said. You unbuckled and stepped out, looking around and rubbing your arm. “Okay, tall munchkin?”

“Why are we here?” you asked.

“Because it’s father’s day,” he said, holding out his free hand. You shakily grabbed it and stepped closer to him, looking all around. “It’s alright. The lights are coming on anyways.”

You nodded and followed him across the grass, Jensen knowing right where he was going. When he stopped, the car was far back behind you and Jensen set a bundle of blue and white flowers down.

“I came up for mother’s day too. I would have brought you then but you had that stomach bug,” he said. You stood there and nodded, taking a deep breath. “When’s the last time you were here, kiddo?”

“The funeral,” you said quietly. “I couldn’t remember what cemetery they were in. That’s besides the fact of how scary they are.”

“It’s not scary,” he said. “Look around for a second and listen.”

You shook your head and he wrapped his arms around you.

“Come on. Try for me,” he said. “You always try for me if I ask.”

“Sometimes that really sucks you know. Trying,” you said, shutting your eyes.

“You came home with me on that rainy night. You tried for me at your lowest. This is a walk in the park compared to that,” he said. “Nothing will ever be as hard as that was and guess what, you came out the other side okay. Just look around for me, Y/N.”

He dropped his arms and stepped back. You sighed and opened your eyes, spinning around in a quick circle. He gave you a bitch face and you rolled your eyes, turning more slowly.

“There’s trees here and lots of flowers around. The lampposts look like those ones at the park, don’t they? It’s nice and quiet. It’s a lot like that time I woke you up early to go watch your first sunrise at the park,” he said.

“It looks like a park almost,” you said to yourself as you glanced at the curvy paths in the place.

“That’s because it’s not meant to be a scary place, Y/N. It’s supposed to be a place you want to come visit, like the park. S’nothing to be afraid of here,” he said.

“I hated this place,” you said, staring down at the ground. “I hated that day. I didn’t even cry. I already knew better at that point. Still got hit when I got back to my foster home that day for sniffling. I always thought they might be mad at me for that, my parents. Not being upset that day for them,” you said. He bumped your shoulder and you looked up.

“They knew you were upset, honey. Nothing can break your heart more once you become a parent than your child hurting. Your parents are not mad at you. I know your head. They aren’t mad at you for this being the first time you’ve been back either. I can promise you that.”

“Lucky guess,” you said.

“Today being your first father’s day being adopted and all have anything to do with how quiet you were earlier?” he asked.

“Two lucky guesses,” you said. He threw his arms over your shoulders and gave you a hug from behind. “I don’t want them to be mad at me or think I moved on and I’m going to forget about them.”

“We will never forget about them, tall munchkin. They’re are as much of a part of our family as you are. They’ll always be a part of ours,” he said.

“I changed my last name though. How could they not be angry for that?” you asked. He was quiet behind you and you felt a kiss on your temple.

“Guys our daughter is doing it again,” said Jensen. You went to speak but he sighed. “She always like this or this a teenager thing? I know you guys handled potty training which thank you very much for but I mean, you know, you guys could speak up and tell her she’s being an idiot. An idiot we love very much but an idiot.”

“You are the one speaking to a grave,” you said.

“It’s okay to talk to people that have died, Y/N. Death is weird. We don’t know what happens when it happens but just because someone died doesn’t mean they have to be gone. A name is just a name. It doesn’t mean anything when it comes to family. Take Jared for instance. He’s your Uncle but we don’t have the same last name now do we?”

“Yeah but I asked to have my name done cause it meant something to me and-”

“I know what it meant. No one’s ever throwing you away. You’re ours, forever. All of ours,” he said.

“God, you’re so sappy,” you said, wiping at your face.

“See? I had to handle that one again! Guys, a little leg work here,” said Jensen. You smiled and felt a quick breeze whip past. You looked back and he rested his chin on your shoulder. “It was the wind, dork. Not a sign.”

“You’re the one that mentioned it, not me,” you said.

“So you gonna wish him happy father’s day or do I have to do that for you too?” asked Jensen.

“Happy father’s day, dad,” you said. “I’m a lot better than last time I was here. I’m okay now. I promise.”

“We’ll get her by more often,” said Jensen. “Oh, and our girl can’t cook bacon for shit. I blame that on you guys.”

You giggled, Jensen hugging you again.

“Okay, okay. I get it,” you said, grabbing his arms and tilting your head back to look up at him. “Happy father’s day too.”

“Thank you, kiddo,” he said with a big smile. “Best one yet.”

“Why?”

“It’s our first one with you adopted. Of course it’s the best one,” he said.

“Sometimes I really can’t believe you played a badass on TV,” you said.

“Shut up,” he said, giving you a noggie. “Let’s go get some ice cream.”

“How she doing now?” asked De when you were sitting on the back patio by the fire pit around midnight, curled up in your chair in a hoodie that used to belong to one of them. Your eyes were shut and you knew you should have walked up to the house but the fire was cozy warm and you really didn’t want to move. “Daddy daughter trip work?”

“Oh, she’s a sucker for those. I got her wrapped around my finger,” said Jensen with a chuckle.

“I’m pretty sure it’s the other way around, Jensen,” she said. A fingertip grazed your forehead and you heard a light laugh.

“Yeah, I know I am. I don’t mind,” he said, a piece of hair tucking behind your ear before it was quiet, a few crackles of fire. “She’s too little to have that much fear and pain bottled up inside her. There’s always something new in there we don’t know about and there’s no way for us to stop it.”

“You stopped it today,” said De.

“No I didn’t. She was afraid her parents would be mad and think she moved on because she has us now. I didn’t stop that. I helped her through it but it’s not gone. It’s gonna stick in that kid’s head for a good long time and there’s nothing we can do.”

“Jay, I know we’d both take on all that pain for her if we could and maybe we can’t do that. It doesn’t mean what we do, things like today, it doesn’t mean those moments don’t make a difference. She was happy for the first time all day after you guys got home tonight,” she said. “That’s real and that makes an impact.”

“This kid has more scars than you and me put together,” he said. “It’s just...I just want our baby to be happy and safe.”

“She is. Everyday she is more and more comfortable here and with us. Earlier this week she even called me mom a few times,” she said.

“She did? That’s a huge step for her. We’ve told her so many times she never has to,” he said.

“I know. She did it on her own. Maybe she was just trying it out. It’s up to her what she wants. But this is the same girl that sat shaking at the end of our bed scared to even look us in the eye because she thought we’d hurt her. It’s been a year and a half Jensen. We went from that to her asleep out here all tucked in, feeling safe enough with us here to protect her. It is slow some going sometimes, I know it is, but she is a million times better off than she was, even on days like today,” said De.

“I’m not used to being the one freaking out all the time,” he said. “That’s your job.”

“You know how I was a little jealous of you two at first,” she said, a smile in her voice. “You’re so close.”

“Yeah but remember what the doc said.”

“She was far more afraid of you than she ever was of me,” she said. “It’s why we didn’t have to work as hard for us to work. You had to earn every second of it. I know that was hard.”

“You know how sometimes the kids can be a bit much?” he asked and she laughed. “I can understand being annoyed or thinking yes, that picture is not gorgeous that they just drew or whatever. I can understand that you don’t like every single thing every single second about your child. But even if your kid is driving you up the wall, you still love them. You’d still stop anything that ever wanted to hurt them.”

“What’s your point?”

“She didn’t know that. We had to start from nothing. It took months for me to feel like I could even hug her without scaring her,” he said. “Days like today, they make me wonder if I still scare her ever.”

“Jensen. You earned all of that with her. You proved yourself to her over and over again. You’re the last person on earth she’ll ever be afraid of and you know what else? You’re the first one she’ll ask to protect her,” she said.

“Until she finds a boy,” he chuckled.

“Babe. Even after the boy, you’ll be a close second,” she said.

“I can take that,” he said. “She mentioned any boys in particular?”

“No. I’m simply saying she starts college in a few months. College boys are cute,” she said.

“She can stay single and live with us forever as far as I’m concerned,” he laughed.

“She might disagree with you there,” she said. It was quiet again and you heard murmurs before the creak of a chair. “You gonna carry her?”

“I ain’t that old,” he said. You fluttered open your eyes as you got picked up, your legs going around his back. “Bedtime munchkin.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, shutting your eyes again. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said after a beat. “Go on back to sleep. I gotcha from here.”

Eight Years Later

“Where we go mommy?” asked Allie as you unbuckled her from her car seat.

“We’re saying hi to mommy’s daddy for father’s day,” said TJ, grabbing her hand as you went to the back to grab the flowers. The bundle of them had scooted back and you stared down at your stomach with a sigh.

“I got it,” said your dad behind you, reaching inside and getting them for you.

“Thanks, dad,” you said, leaning against the back of the SUV for a moment. “I am so over being pregnant.”

“Another month and you’ll be a momma all over again,” he said. “He still keeping you up at night with the kicking?”

“The boy never stops,” you said.

“Chill out, Mr. Hanover,” he said. “Let mommy sleep some.”

“Oh he’s going again,” you said, taking his hand and resting it on your stomach. “Feel him?”

“Yeah,” he said, a soft smile on his face. “I can’t believe my baby made a baby."

“I’m still your baby,” you said.

“Even if you are getting grown up,” he said. “Come on.”

He walked with you up the grass, setting your flowers down along with his.

“Jay, I thought you mommy’s daddy,” said Allie.

“I am, sweetie, but mommy was lucky enough to have two mommies and daddies,” said your dad.

“Oh. I don’t get it,” she said.

“We’ll explain when you’re older,” said TJ with a smile, picking her up and resting her on his shoulders.

“Well happy father’s day to my three guys,” you said, giving TJ a kiss and your dad a hug.

“Can we get ice cream now?” asked Allie.

“Sure. It’s father’s day tradition,” you said. She hopped back with TJ towards the car, your dad bumping your hip gently. “Sup?”

“Someday your children might be parents,” he said. “I know that’s way beyond what you’re thinking at the moment but it’s true. Do me a favor if that happens.”

“What?”

“Try to teach them that’s there no such thing as a perfect parent. Give ‘em some love and safety and they’ll do okay,” he said.

“Dad’s in a mood again, guys,” you said.

“You look like you have a basketball under your shirt,” he said.

“Sarcasm. Great defense mechanism,” you said, grabbing his arm when the baby kicked hard.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. You gotta calm down in there, buddy. You can meet your other grandparents after you come out, not before,” you said. He stopped kicking after a moment and you sighed. “How on earth did mom have two of these inside her at once.”

“Oh, I remember being told to get the snip very quickly after that,” he said.

“Dad. I’m still scared from the couch make out session. I don’t need to hear about that,” you said.

“I made out with your mom this morning,” he said with a smirk. You fake gagged and rolled your eyes, saying goodbye before you went back down the grass with him. “It was awesome.”

“You’re such a boy, it’s ridiculous,” you said as you looked at him. You felt yourself start to trip and two very quick hand shot out and grabbed your arms. You got your feet under you, your own arms wrapped around your stomach. You took a deep breath, your dad staring at you. “I’m okay.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. You cocked your head and felt the soreness in your arms, glancing down to see the red spots from where he’d caught you. “I hurt you. I shouldn’t have grabbed you so tight.”

“Dad. You didn’t hurt me. Me and baby are all good. I’m not supposed to be walking on uneven ground anyways. You didn’t do anything wrong,” you said.

“You’re gonna bruise,” he said.

“I know this is incredibly hard for you to hear but you protecting my child is more important to me than you ever doing a thing for me so thank you,” you said.

“Can we go back to me embarrassing you? We can talk about how me and mom-”

“Argh,” you said, hearing him laugh as you walked back down to the path. “TJ, my dad’s being weird again.”

“First off, that’s him always. Second, are you saying we’re not gonna make out when we’re their age cause that doesn’t sound like fun,” he said.

“See? He gets it,” said your dad.

“Mommy, I want ice cream,” said Allie.

“Me too, kiddo,” you said, climbing into the passenger seat with TJ’s help.

“We’ll meet you there, Jensen,” he said as your dad headed back to his car.

“Hey dad? Call the other guys to go too,” you said.

“You sure?” he shouted back.

“I’m sure. It should be everybody’s thing,” you said.

“You got it, kiddo,” he said. “See you guys in a little bit.”

“You good?” asked TJ, rubbing your arm when he slid back in behind the wheel. He lowered his hand to your stomach and you smiled.

“Yeah, we’re all good. Happy father’s day, babe.”

________

A/N: Check out the Dark Roads timestamp here!

#spndeanbingo #spn #supernatural #jensen x daughter!reader #rpf #au #spn reader insert #supernatural reader insert #reader insert #spn fanfiction #jensen x

351 notes · View notes

xbaepsae · 4 years

Text

the ebb and flow | part two

“It’s probably foolish to engage in this trivial bickering with Jeongguk, but you can’t seem to help yourself. He always manages to get under your skin—knowing exactly what to say to tick you off.”

[demigod!jeongguk x demigod!reader]

genre: percy jackson!au, mythology!au, demigod!au, enemies to lovers!au, action

word count: 2.1k

rating: pg-13

warnings: capture the flag but demigod style (aka kind of dangerous), language, the reader and jk arguing A LOT lol

a/n: & here is part two. takes place two years prior to the first drabble! also, as an fyi, the series timeline will be continuing to jump around a little throughout each part (to help give context to the reader and jk’s relationship!). xoxo

→ series masterlist!

the third summer – in which you don’t capture the flag

As a year-rounder at Camp Half-Blood, you’re used to not having that many campers being around all the time. Of course, you enjoy the stillness of the morning—if you ignore the nymphs who have nothing better to do than sing their hearts away—and the smaller classes, but there’s just something special about the bustle of full cabins and warm campfires.

So, when the summer session finally begins, you can’t wait to see all of your friends again. Since you don’t get to venture out into the real world all that often, except to visit your dad a few times a year, you listen intently to everyone’s stories. Like your friends, you wish that you had super interesting stories about near-death experiences with monsters; however, maybe not having any is actually a good thing.

“I was just casually walking down the street when this Fury just attacked me out of nowhere,” Haru explains with wide, animated eyes.

Your eyes part equally as wide, taking in every word that drips from her lips. “How did you escape?”

Haru smirks, highlighting the glossy pink of her lips. “Charmspeak.”

Although charmspeaking is a trait that children of Aphrodite can possibly possess, there aren’t actually that many demigods you know who have the ability. “That’s so cool! I can’t believe you and Seokjin can both do that!”

Sometimes, you wish that you had special abilities like other demigod children. All your mother gave you was the innate ability to strategize and create, which isn’t that helpful all the time. You voice this thought out loud to Haru, to which she just scoffs like you’re an idiot for even thinking that.

“Y/n, that is a great skill—it’s super helpful when you face adversity and during capture the flag, which is tonight by the way.”

A beat of excitement courses through your veins at the reminder.

The first capture the flag game of the summer is always an adrenaline rush. Not only does it set the tone for the rest of the season, but it also brings forth some interesting alliances. After all, everyone wants a good track record.

From what you heard in your cabin earlier, Athena was trying to form an alliance with Ares; in a sense, it would be an automatic win. Battle strategy and brute force is always a good match in any given situation. However, rarely does Athena and Ares play on the same team—both cabins are too competitive for that.

“Are you going to participate today?” you ask, nearly laughing at the scrunch of Haru’s face.

“I mean, I guess so,” she shrugs, but you aren’t convinced. Aphrodite’s cabin usually doesn’t partake in rougher activities. “Now that I know I can Charmspeak, I want to try it out.”

Haru does have a good point. You really want to see it in action too. “Why don’t you join my cabin?”

“I thought head counselor was the only one who could make alliances?”

“I mean, I’ll mention it to Jinyoung if you’ll mention it to Sora?” You smile, and Haru agrees with a laugh.

Later that evening, before dinner, Jinyoung collects you all for a quick debriefing. He agreed earlier to your proposition about Aphrodite joining your ranks; however, you are almost positive he only agreed because he kind of has a thing for Sora. He just doesn’t realize it yet.

“Okay, gang…the plans with Ares fell through—as expected—but do not fear,” he combs a hand through his blonde hair. “Tonight we have alliances with Aphrodite, Apollo…”

You zone out as he lists a few of the smaller cabins of the minor gods, already thinking about the best way to approach the game tonight. From what you can remember about the games that Ares has led, their flag isn’t placed somewhere tricky—they’re not super good at that. However, what are good at is defense; they’re not children of the war god for no reason.

“…and last but not least, I snagged Poseidon’s cabin!” Jinyoung finishes with a triumphant smile, like he’s so proud of his accomplishment. Unfortunately, you catch what he says and your stomach sinks, an irritated sneer already stretching across your face.

“You’re joking.” The words pass your lips without a second thought.

Jinyoung settles his eyes on you. “Now, y/n, I know you aren’t too fond of Jeongguk, but—”

“He’s insufferable,” you argue, interrupting him. “After what he did to me last year, I can’t stand him.”

“It’s just one game of capture the flag,” Jinyoung tries to console you. “From what Poseidon’s head counselor already told me, Jeongguk expressed the same feelings when our alliance was announced earlier.”

“Good,” you scowl. “As he should, that little punk.”

Realizing that he isn’t going to change your mind, Jinyoung continues with his debriefing as you mull over the thought of having to be on the same team as Jeon Jeongguk. In the past, you’ve both been on the same team a few times; but that was before all the arguing started. Before all the pranks and determination to beat each other surpassed everything else.

At dinner, you scarf your food down as you burn holes in the back of his head. Namjoon catches your intense stare and knows that he probably should leave you alone. By the time your cabin’s flag waves to the sound of the conch horn being sounded, you’re no longer feeling as heated by the idea of Jeongguk’s irritating presence.

Until he settles beside you on the pavilion.

“Go away, Jeon.”

“Is that really how you should speak to someone you haven’t seen in months? Much less, someone on your team?” he smirks with sparkling eyes, clearly enjoying your reaction.

“I don’t give a shit about you,” you narrow your gaze on him, before picking up a sword and shield that suddenly appears on the table. “So, would I care about how I speak to you?”

You can tell that he wants to say something else, but Chiron’s voice stops him. “Okay, heroes, you all know the rules. Like always, the forest is fair game, and the creek is the boundary line. You can use your weapons. Don’t kill anyone—gods forbid—and only two may guard the flag. I’ll be around if you all should need me.”

As everyone picks up their own weapons, Jinyoung yells for your cabin and alliances to follow him to the north while the other team heads south. Behind you, you can hear Jeongguk following closely, but you don’t spare him a single look. Instead, you turn to Haru.

“I’m glad you decided to join.”

“Yeah, Sora was super excited when I told her,” she says, and you both laugh. “Of course, I might’ve added a little white lie about Jinyoung personally wanting her on the team. I’m sure it’ll be fine though.”

Haru looks ahead and your eyes do the same, catching the pretty brunette walking alongside your head counselor. “I agree.”

When Jinyoung stakes the flag along the creek, much to the delight of Poseidon’s cabin, he motions you towards him. When you’re beside him, he says, “I want you and Jeongguk to guard the flag.”

Your mouth drops. “Jinyoung, I always play offense. What the Hades?”

“Let’s call this, a test, shall we?” his eyes bright under the setting sun.

“Is this because I questioned your judgement on having Poseidon’s cabin join our team?” you frown.

Jinyoung sighs. “Like I said, this is just one game, y/n. There are still plenty of Friday’s left in summer. You can retrieve the flag another day.”

Even though you abhor the idea of having to defend the flag with Jeongguk, you know Jinyoung’s right—it is just one game. You should trust the plan he has today—even if it’s different from the one you originally had in mind. “Fine.”

As the game begins, you settle close to the flag, eyes sharp and body on guard. You also make sure to stay a considerable distance from Jeongguk, not wanting to get distracted by his big mouth or annoying attitude. However, this proves to be difficult because he can’t seem to take a hint.

“What’s your strategy today, miss goody-two-shoes?” he asks, taking a step closer to you.

Turning to face him, you offer a glare. “Be quiet and watch for red.” You’re referring to the other team.

“Don’t you say that Athena always has a plan?” Is he mocking you?

“Athena does,” you reaffirm, crossing your arms over your chest. “What about Poseidon? Bet you don’t have a plan at all.”

Jeongguk shrugs. “Dad always relies on instinct, you know; going with the flow.”

You hated that so much. “That’s stupid and reckless. One should always have a plan.”

“Who needs a plan when you have water on your side?” And as if he’s trying to prove something, he begins to bend the water in the creek. The only reaction you have is to roll your eyes. Yes, being able to yield water is a beneficial skill, but—

“Jeongguk, you’re not always going to have water around,” you say, causing him to drop his act. “What in Zeus’s name are you going to do if you’re stuck in a fucking desert?”

“There’s water in the desert.”

“If you’re lucky.”

“Then, I guess I just have to be lucky.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes again. “You’re impossible. You would die in the desert.”

“What would you do in the desert?” he throws your question back at you. “I bet you can’t think of a plan off the top of your head.”

Jeongguk takes another step closer to you and for the first time, you realize that he’s taller than you this summer. In fact, he towers a few inches above you. When did that happen? Shaking the thought away, you proceed to answer his question. Little does he know, you’ve actually thought about this scenario; unlike him, you have a plan.

It’s probably foolish to engage in this trivial bickering with Jeongguk, but you can’t seem to help yourself. He always manages to get under your skin—knowing exactly what to say to tick you off. And in the heat of this back-and-forth, you fail to catch the movement within the trees. By the time your reflexes kick in, it’s already too late to have the upper hand in the situation.

From the corner of your eyes, Park Jimin lets out a battle cry as he suddenly leaps for the flag. For a son of Ares, he’s small and doesn’t seem like much; however, in the years you’ve known him, you know that he shouldn’t be underestimated. After all, he’s his cabin’s pride and joy.

“The flag is mine!” he yells, fingertips within reach of the gray flag.

“Oh, no you don’t Park!” you yell equally as loud, moving to step in front of him. Just as you bring your sword up, ready to force Jimin back, something strange happens. Suddenly, your feet are no longer on the ground. You’re being swept away—by water. Your entire bottom half is soaked. “Jeongguk!”

As your head falls underwater, you realize that Jeongguk used the creek in attempt to stop Jimin. However, why are you the one getting caught in the current? When you get out of this mess, you are so ending him.

After a moment, the water recedes, and you finally catch a breath. Jimin—who is completely dry, by the way—already has the gray flag in his hand and a triumphant smile is plastered on his face. Around him, his cabin begins to cheer and praise him. You’re irritated that the son of Ares managed to snag the flag from right under you, but you’re even more furious at the person who caused you to stumble.

By the creek, Jeongguk stares at you with wide eyes and parted lips—like he didn’t mean to almost drown you. You realize that the son of Poseidon tends to fuck up a lot in your presence because this isn’t the first time you’ve been drenched in water due to him.

“Holy Hera, what happened to you?” Haru suddenly appears in front of you, a confused expression across her face. “Why are you wet?”

If you weren’t so mad, you’d be shivering due to the cool evening. However, all you can see is red. “I am going toss him into Tartarus!”

By the murderous expression on your face, Haru doesn’t even need to know who you’re talking about. All she does is look at the son of Poseidon with pity as you begin charging towards him, probably with the intent of causing serious damage.

63 notes · View notes

haro-whumps · 5 years

Text

Group Whumpees: 1. Start

Inspired by this post by @whumping-every-day and @justtorturewhump about a group of whumpees. I’ve been thinking about it on and off ever since I saw it but I finally got the giddyup to actually write for it

CW: Modern slavery, implied + referenced abuse, death of a minor character, multiple whumpees, transphobia (brief), aftermath of torture/conditioning

Galo settled himself into the hospital chair, perfectly comfortable and positioned at a thoughtful angle to the side, opposite the door so physicians could easily enter. He’d intended for this to be a quick visit, but clearly his aunt had other ideas, so he might as well take a seat.

“Here I am on my deathbed!” Auntie Bethany raved, flinging her arm about wildly, and Galo internally winced each time she got too close to jerking on the IV, “Only ONE person comes to visit me! In my whole family!”

To be fair, your whole family is made up of jackasses, Galo thought privately, raising his hands in placation. “Auntie Bethany, please, you were just admitted today. I’m sure plenty of people will show up tomorrow.”

“None of them want to visit me, even when I’m going to die!” she persisted. To be fair, Galo didn’t really want to visit her either. He just… well, she was family. And she was in the hospital. And even though his family was estranged and largely filled with self-centered, arrogant individuals that made any kind of holiday event a stomach ache and a half, he tried not to be. So here he was.

“You’re not going to die, Auntie Bethany,” Galo said patiently. “You’ve had this surgery before, remember? And you made it through just fine. I bet the same surgeon still works here, even!” Galo tried for a positive tone, cheerful.

“Ah, you’re such a good niece for your dear old aunt, sweetheart.”

“I’m your nephew, auntie, we’ve been over this,” Galo said through grit teeth, smile significantly more forced now. This is why no one likes you, Galo thought.

“That’s why I’m leaving you all of my estate, darling,” Auntie Bethanie continued like she hadn’t heard him. Galo blinked twice.

“I’m sorry, what?” Galo asked nicely, sticking his pinkie finger in his right ear as though to clear it out. “You’re…”

“I have my lawyer coming to the hospital,” Auntie Bethany said, “Go get me a pair of socks. They keep it so damn freezing in here.”

Galo rose and went to the cabinet, pulling out the soft yellow cloth and helping the socks onto her feet.

“I had planned to split my estate between everyone who showed up, but you’re the only one! So you get the jackpot, you’re welcome!” she said, well, nearly-shouted, as Galo tugged the socks on over the socks she was already wearing, struggling with the tightness. He was strong; daily visits to the gym had his arms thickly muscled, his chest broad, but he wasn’t exactly trying to break his elderly aunt’s foot here, so he couldn’t just shove.

“Thank you, Auntie Bethany,” he said, trying to sound actually grateful and not just tiredly patient. So this was her newest passive-aggressive ploy. After Galo told the rest of the family there was money involved, the others would show up with their plastic smiles and loud voices and then she would get to gripe at how they were only in it for the money, but change the will up anyway to keep them visiting. She liked to play “games” like that. Galo tried very, very hard not to sigh.

It’d probably keep up after the hospital stay, too, Galo mused as he sat back down in the chair. People showing up to her home with flowers and wine and “earnest” attempts to make sure she was recovering just fine. Honestly, who knew how long she could drag this out? Her poor lawyer. He hoped she was at least paying them well.

The lawyer did, in fact, arrive, and Galo quietly apologized each time his aunt criticized or scolded the poor man.

“You’re uh, gonna need to use my legal name,” Galo said, handing him his driver’s license. “Not the uh, childhood nickname she keeps calling me.”

The lawyer gave him a sympathetic pat, and it was hours after Galo had planned that he finally managed to get out from under his aunt’s endless conversation and go home already. He sighed, dropping his coat on the floor of his small apartment’s entryway. For all that he was competent, intelligent, and good with organizational skills and the like; Galo had not been particularly successful in his life. He was good with people and good with life skills, he just.

Bluh!

Bluh bluh bluh! Now was not the time for a pity party, or else he’d turn into his aunt. He played an hour of his most recent video game, an open-world with a semi-voluntary plot, before turning in for the night. He should think about investing in a rabbit or something. He could eek out the money, and his apartment got awfully lonely, with just him, a computer, and a potted plant.

In the morning, he knew he should email his family and let them know Auntie Bethany wanted visitors, and she was messing around with her will. He should. A good son, nephew, brother, and cousin would. But then his dad would call him, asking for specifics (it never mattered how many specifics Galo put in the email. His dad would always call and ask for more), and that would mean talking to his dad and he really, really wasn’t ready for that, at the moment. Or at all. He could do it later. It wasn’t like Auntie Bethany was actually dying, after all, she was just up to her hysterics again. And god, if Galo’s sister or brother decided they wanted more than just an email… if they decided to “pop in” after visiting their aunt and gloat to Galo about how now it was their names on the will…

Oh and don’t even get Galo started on what Uncle Mike would do. He was a bigger attention whore than Auntie Bethany.

So he just… didn’t write. Didn’t call. Nothing that big was happening, they could afford to wait a few days before feeding into Auntie Bethany’s weird games. She could probably use a little disappointment for the first time in her spoiled, nasty life anyway.

Galo took a deep breath and covered his face with his broad palm. He shouldn’t think like that. That was uncalled for. Auntie Bethany was a fine person, she was just rude, and loud, and inconsiderate. But she was family. He should be polite. But, still, it would be fine if she had to wait a little while for everyone to get in on her weird ploys.

So imagine Galo’s surprise when the hospital called him after work, letting him know his aunt had, unfortunately, not made it through her surgery.

Her mansion (and that’s really the only word that could describe it, though “castle” was more fitting, in Galo’s opinion (it had an estate garden, who has an ‘estate garden’?!?!)) was huge. Galo had made that observation before, of course, every time he’d spent the weekend as a kid and the couple of times he’d visited during a family gathering. He couldn’t really believe it was his. The castle, the pool, the garden, all of her badass furniture he’d been warned to keep off of as a kid, her hella entertainment system that he honestly couldn’t wait to hook his game consoles up to. Didn’t she also own slaves? He wasn’t certain; he tended to get as drunk as possible as fast as possible at family gatherings, in order to survive said family gatherings, but he was pretty sure she’d mentioned putting away her servants for the evenings since they were “eyesores” or some shit. And he definitely remembered her having one when he was a kid, a glass-eyed guy only about a decade older than Galo himself.

Whatever. He unlocked the front door with her keys, attached to his keychain now, and took in the familiar foyer. He should go upstairs and check if her turquoise guest room was the same as when he was younger. It had an en suite bathroom with a bath the size of a hot tub, and it could definitely serve as his new master bedroom. Auntie Bethany’s had been the size of a ballroom, and he really didn’t need all that space (or to sleep in the same bed his dead aunt had slept in, guh).

“Mistress, w--” a thin woman with pale hair and over-wide eyes entered swiftly, then flinched back, grinding to a halt when she saw Galo.

“S-Sir, I’m sorry sir, but our mistress is out at the moment. You will have to visit her at a later time.”

“Oh, uh, I’m, not a home invader,” Galo assured, setting his little potted plant down near the antique vase his aunt had boasted about so frequently. The poor lady was trembling visibly, though he had to give her credit for not screaming and calling the police upon seeing a stranger enter her home. He probably should’ve called out and introduced himself when he let himself in; he’d just been thinking about how Auntie Bethany had kept slaves. “My aunt had a relapse, recently, and was admitted to the hospital yesterday. Uh, her surgery didn’t go so well,” Galo said, rubbing at the back of his neck. He needed to shave down his undercut, he thought rather inanely. “She didn’t make it. I uh, I’m sorta the sole inheritor of her estate? For the time being; at the funeral I’m sure we’ll get into plenty of arguments,” he said with a forced chuckle.

“My name’s Galo,” he greeted, extending his hand to the woman.

He was a little taken aback when she genuflected and kissed his palm, dropping fluidly and with unexpected grace. “Oh, uh, okay,” he said, cupping her face and stroking a thumb over her cheekbone. Except, whoops, that was the wrong thing to do, he realized, since her face contorted and her whole body locked up.

“Shit, sorry, didn’t mean to hurt you,” Galo said, pulling his hand away immediately. She went down on both knees and pressed her forehead to the floor, further confusing Galo, her movements still fluid as silk.

“I apologize, Master. I reacted poorly.”

“No, no,” Galo rushed to reassure, his words making her flinch. “You’re good, you’re fine, it’s alright,” he tried, and that went over a little better.

“I apologize if I have angered you, Master.”

“You--didn’t. I’m just, surprised is all.” He bent down and touched his fingers very lightly against the back of her hand, and he noted that she flinched again. Okay. Probably a trauma response. His aunt had likely picked her up from somewhere bad, but that was alright. He had significantly more emotional intelligence than Auntie Bethany; he was better suited to help this kind of person than she was. Would have been.

“Will you tell me your name?” Galo asked, voice intentionally calm and reassuring.

“...” He watched her swallow, his brows furrowing. Did she… not know her own name? “Whatever pleases Master best,” she eventually answered.

“Oh,” Galo said, voice soft and pitying. “No, that’s alright. You can tell me what you’d like to be called.”

“I--wouldn’t, be presumptuous, Master, and put words in your mouth.” Man, she was shaking like a leaf. He would definitely be stuttering, if he was that scared.

But a direct approach clearly wasn’t going to work, here, he couldn’t just do it over and over again and expect different results. He’d come at this from a different angle.

“You’re so obedient,” he praised, stroking a finger down her fingers and along the back of her hand, light as a feather. “You’re very good, you were trained to answer just like that, weren’t you?”

“Yes Master,” she said, sounding relieved. Good.

“But right now, what I’m asking for is your name. If you don’t like the one Auntie Bethany called you, that’s fine, you can pick something else, but I’m not going to think of one for you, okay? I need you to do that, now,” Galo said patiently, feeling a little silly for talking to a grown adult in the same tone he might take with a crying child, but, well. Trauma response.

“Nyla, Master.”

“Good girl, Nyla.” He heard her breath of relief, and tapped the backs of his knuckles against her hand. “Stand up for me?” he asked, slipping his hands underneath her palms. He rose, and she stood with him, again with that eerie grace, pretty much none of her weight against his hands, although he had intended to help her up.

“So, is there anyone else here I should meet?” Galo asked, smiling patiently at Nyla who did not meet his eyes at all. “That other guy. Gr… G-something.”

“Greyson, if it pleases you Master.”

“That’s it! He still around?”

“Yes Master. I can fetch the others for you, Master, and bring them to wherever you’d prefer to inspect us.”

“Uh,” Galo blinked twice. Okay. Nyla was clearly going to require a lot of delicacy, and while he was definitely equipped to do that, he wasn’t fast. “Sure, how about you get the others in the--” No, not the living room, the furniture in there was all tiny and mostly just for her weird 60’s aesthetic, “--den.”

He mentally added “den” onto his brand new list of things that made Nyla lock up. He should probably turn it into a physical list, at some point, since he was going to live with her now, and it was important to make note of things like this.

But the damage was done, and maybe this would be a good way to show her his aunt’s den wasn’t like… whatever it was, that she’d experienced before here.

His den. It wasn’t his aunt’s anymore. Auntie Bethany was dead.

It was a weird feeling, he thought to himself as he grabbed his potted plant and went upstairs to the guest bedroom that was, in fact, still just as cool as he remembered it. He set it on the windowsill of his house. It was a weird feeling, a really weird feeling, that someone he’d known all his life was suddenly… gone.

He didn’t miss her. He didn’t like her, and they certainly hadn’t been close. He wasn’t mourning her. But. Hm. His grandparents had all died before he could remember them, so he hadn’t really had a death in the family before. It was strange and almost-melancholy, thinking that his aunt would never again walk through this place. Would never hassle him about his hair at family gatherings ever again, or complain about the TV being too quiet, or eat cantelope with her mouth open.

He shook himself. He had other people to say hello to and introduce himself to. He gave his cheeks two smart pats and left the room, mentally plotting where he would put his own personal effects. And ugh, he had to get rid of that weird hall painting. Actually, why not just do that now; he was there and it was large, but if he gripped under the frame on top he could sorta-shoulder-carry it down the stairs. The weight wasn’t much of an issue. He was a particularly buff stud, after all.

“Oh, there’s more of you than I expected,” he mentioned offhand, reaching the den. Five slaves stood at strict attention, ignoring the human-sized furniture he’d intended them all to sit on, including a girl who couldn’t possibly be older than twenty. He stared at her, a muted horror not quite breaking past the shock. She was absolutely covered in bruises. Some were purple, some yellowing, some bright red and fresh, hardly older than two or possibly three days.

“Oh god,” he breathed, very, very deliberately reminding himself to move slowly as he approached her. Poor thing! Had she fallen? The bruises differed in age too much for that. He reached out a hand to her, slowly, well within her field of vision, but she still flinched.

“Master!” Nyla interrupted before he could touch. “That one is Lilah, she’s the gardener for the estate.”

A little thing like her? The whole estate? Using the machinery needed to keep up with a yard this big, no wonder she was covered in injuries! She was way too small to be handling stuff that could hurt her like this!

“Nice to meet you, Lilah,” Galo said gently, extending his hand again, just as slow and careful as the first time. Lilah sank to one knee, almost as fluid as Nyla, and kissed his palm, which. Alright! Cool! Sure! Maybe Auntie Bethany had gotten Nyla and Lilah together?

Galo gave her a single, quick pat on her head, not wanting a repeat of whatever distress he’d caused Nyla in the foyer. Lilah was tan and freckled, with sunbleached brown hair, and wow, yikes, she was so small. Galo swallowed and turned to the next person in the lineup.

“Greyson,” Galo greeted with a smile. He looked a lot like he had when Galo was younger, just sorta gaunt now. Reddish-brown hair that was only just starting to sprout a handful of gray hairs, tall and skinny with knobby hands. “Remember me?”

“I do, Master Galo,” Greyson said with a bow, hand raised to his chest, and Galo chuckled.

“Good to see you again, dude. It’s been years,” Galo said, leaving his hands in his pockets. He’d already met this guy, however long ago that it might have been.

“It has, Master, I am delighted to see you again,” Greyson said, monotone and still bowing, but Galo was inclined to believe him. Greyson had always been like this, as near as he remembered.

“Look a little different than last time, huh?” Galo asked with a proud grin. Greyson lifted his head and quirked a very, very small smile of his own.

“I believe you’ve put some weight on, Master.”

Galo made note of how everyone else in the room tensed up at Greyson’s words, but he also laughed. “You bet I have,” Galo bragged, flexing an impressive bicep, before taking a mental red sharpie and writing DON’T DO THAT around the action in big letters. Lilah looked like she might cry.

He’d have to catch up with Greyson later. Or, well, get to know the guy? He hadn’t had much interest in the man when he was a kid, more preoccupied with the pool and old movie collection. He turned to the next person, a man closer to his own age.

“What’s your name?” Galo asked, calm, friendly smile that he used during work on his face.

“Evan, if it please you.” Evan had fluffy dark hair pulled back in a ponytail and strong, handsome features.

God, everyone here was really formal. Greyson, he got. Again, the man had always been like that, but man. They sounded like they all came out of those weird books Auntie Bethany was always reading.

“I’m pleased to meet you, Evan,” Galo said, doing a little wordplay, and Evan lowered his eyes deferentially. Galo lifted his hand to maybe clap him on the shoulder or rub at his own hair or something, but Evan knelt mid-motion and kissed Galo’s hand and okay! Maybe his aunt had been the one with the hand-kissing-thing after all. That was weird as hell to think about, and Galo was gonna try not to.

“This is Sasha, Master,” Nyla stated when Galo turned to the last person in the room, a woman with thick, curly, dark hair and wide blue eyes. She was pale as a ghost. “If you will allow it, she does not speak very well, and I am capable of speaking for her, Master.”

“Okay, sure,” Galo said, not going to push too hard for information on that. And he wasn’t, like, gonna tell them no, either. If this was what made them comfortable, then alright, he could deal with that. “Nice to meet you, Sasha, you don’t need to kiss my hand.”

Sasha nodded tensely, and ugh, maybe he should have let her? Now she was the odd one out. Well, Greyson hadn’t either, so…

Nope, don’t overthink it. Galo could tell there was going to be plenty for him to overthink, moving forward, and he needed to get into the habit of cutting that in the bud right now.

“Alright, so, nice to meet you all,” he already said that. “I’m new, and I’m gonna be honest, the fanciest thing I’ve ever owned is my computer rig, so I’m probably gonna make a couple mistakes in the whole… running an estate, thing, at first. You’re all allowed and encouraged to make suggestions or tell me if I’m doing something stupid on accident, okay?”

It didn’t look like that was okay at all, but Nyla nodded with a “Yes Master” anyway so eh, Galo would take it.

What should he say now? Telling them they were dismissed would make him feel like a hoity toity jackass, but it also felt kind of lame to just… leave it at that. “I’m also a little slow,” he warned, “so please be patient with me. Sometimes I need an extra couple of seconds to think things through.”

“Understood, Master,” Nyla answered again, Evan swallowing nervously at Galo’s words. Yeah, he was definitely going to have to make physical lists of weird observations. Everyone here looked like they had trauma they were processing. Yikes. His aunt was hardly a philanthropist; why would she take in this many skittish people?

His stomach ended up saving him from further floundering, gurgling loudly. Lunch had been so long ago...

“Master, may we prepare dinner for you?” Nyla asked, swaning down to her knees and bowing her head low.

“Yeah, actually, that’d be great. I’m allergic to mushrooms so nothing with those, please.”

“Yes, Master. Is there anything you’d prefer tonight?”

Hm. They seemed to like direction, and giving them a solid lead would probably be kinder than forcing them to think for themselves and worry about what he did or didn’t like. But at the same time, he had no idea what his aunt kept stocked.

“How about pasta with white sauce?” he suggested. Open ended, basic ingredients that they were pretty much guaranteed to have, and easy to make. And relatively quick; he was hungry.

“As you wish, Master.”

“Cool. I’m gonna start going through my aunt’s stuff. Lemme know when it’s ready.”

Galo left the den with a “Yes Master” chasing his heels, and rubbed at the back of his neck. Goddamn, these people were not having a great time. But that was okay. Galo was confident he could help.

191 notes · View notes

holylulusworld · 5 years

Text

Three are one too much

Request: Would you please write for Bucky & reader, wherein he's in love with Natasha but is forced to marry reader, he's never home ignores her even when she tries hard. She even has to work as a waitress for money, one-night Brock tries to rape her, Steve arrives just in time and saves her. They become good friends. It's on you if you want her to stay with Bucky or get married to Steve. It could be an au where they are not Avengers.

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky x Reader, Mobster!Steve x Reader, Clint Barton

Warnings: angst, unrequited love, tension, arguments, two men fighting over one woman, love triangle, mentions of murder

Consolation Bride Masterlist

True to his word Steve came around a few hours later but Bucky refused to let him see you. Steve yelled and fought against his friend until you walked out of the bedroom, looking confused at both men fighting.

“What’s going on here?” Sleepily you rub your eyes, looking at Bucky holding his friend's arm in a tight grip behind his back. Steve is grunting, trying to break free.

“I wanted to visit you and your so-called husband wants to keep me away from you. Bucky, you can’t do this. Days ago, you ignored her, treated her worse than a dog and now you fight for her attention?” Steve is struggling against his friend’s strength.

“James, let Steve go. I want to talk to him. I’m a free human being, not a slave. I can meet whoever I want to meet. You will not put me into a cage as my father did years ago. Do you remember Mark? He asked me out when I was sixteen and dad locked me into my room for three weeks.” Sighing you look at your hands. “Never heard of Mark again. People said his family moved away.”

“Oh, he moved away?”

Bucky can hear the mock in his friend’s voice and let go of his arm. Steve cocks a brow, smirking as he tilts his head, glancing at Bucky. “Is that so, Bucky? Mark and his family moved away? I heard something else…”

Bucky turns pale, trying to hide the panic in his eyes. Steve’s grin widens as he passes his friend to get closer to you, holding out his hand to lead you out of the house.

Stepping out in the sun, looking around the garden you were not allowed to enter you look at the pitiful dead flowers. No one took care of these flowers for years.

“So sad seeing his mother’s roses die. No one took care of them. She would be so sad seeing her beloved flowers die.” You whisper as Steve watches you touch the flowers.

“Y/N, do you want to come with me? I can take you with me right now.” Steve moves his hands up and down your arms, nuzzling his nose into your hair.

“Steve…”

“He doesn’t deserve you, Y/N. Come with me and let me take care of you, let me show you a better life. I can give you all you deserve. Money. Beautiful dresses. Anything you wish for.”

“Steve, I don’t want dresses, money or anything.” Turning around you meet his eyes, giving him a cracked smile. “I know you mean well but that’s not what I want. I can’t change the cage my father tossed me into with another cage you or Bucky want to create to keep me as a nice bird to look at.”

“Y/N, I would never lock you away. I want to protect you, doll. Please let me show you I can be the right man for you.” Steve cups your cheek, leaning closer to brush his lips over yours.

“I can’t, Steve. I don’t know what to do right now but I know I can’t just run into your arms as Bucky never wanted me. When my father married me to Bucky I was happy, ran into his arms but his embrace was cold. I have to stand on my own two feet.” Gently touching Steve’s cheek, you kiss the corner of his mouth, holding back the tears.

“Tell me what you need. I’ll do anything to help you, Y/N. Anything you need.” Steve’s voice cracks, feeling your hand trembling.

“I don’t know what I want or need. Since I’m a child my dad told me what to do. Then Bucky ruled my life and now I’m at the point of no return. I can’t go back to letting a man deciding what to do. I’ll grab my stuff and move in with friend for a while.” Steve can only watch you entering the house again, knowing it will be the wrong way to push you right now.

----

“You can’t just leave me, Y/N. We made our vows and you…” Cursing Bucky watches you packing your belongings. You don’t need long, it’s not as if you own much lately.

“I’ll leave, James. We can have an annulment or a divorce. I don’t care any longer about anything. I don’t care about your hatred or my father’s threats. I don’t fear any of you anymore. Kill me, or let my father end me. It’s unimportant by now…” Voice trembling you toss the photo frame with the picture of your wedding day into the bin, not caring about the hurt look on Bucky’s face.

“I will not let you go! You can’t leave my house, Y/N. It’s the only safe place in town. Your father will try to get hold of you and hurt you. I can’t let this happen. He already took Jason from me…” Bucky gasps as you try to brush past him, try to leave so he does the only thing coming to his mind, using his strength to toss you over his shoulder.

“Let go of me! You can’t keep me, hostage here. I want to leave.” Wiggling in his tight grip you curse as Bucky carries you into his bedroom.

“I know you are mad. I know you hate me right now but believe me I can’t let you go to Wanda right now.” Bucky says placing you carefully onto the bed. Angrily clenching your fists, you glare at your husband, trying to escape once again.

“I want to leave, and you won’t stop me, Barnes. I’m not your slave!” Jumping up you try to scratch Bucky, try to hit him. All the anger, hurting and disappointment reached its peak and now you want to fight back, let the frustration out.

Stronger than you Bucky pushes you onto the bed, covering your body with his. You fight against this strength, pressing your hands against his chest as he kisses down your neck.

“Please let me protect you, Baby Girl. I need to know you are safe. I can’t forget the moment Steve called me and told me about Brock attacking you. Please…” Bucky whispers against your skin but you fight against him, shaking your head.

----

“Boss?” Clint watches Steve, not knowing what to say to lighten his mood. Steve believed you would follow him right away. He saw the struggle and knows you will need time; still he wants nothing more than storming into Bucky’s house and carry you out.

“What, Barton?” Steve barks glaring at his friend.

“Does she know what happened last night? Maybe we should drive back, and you can tell her. We still don’t know who is behind this shit, but I bet Barnes won’t protect her the way she deserves it. We can still get her, boss.” Clint tries but Steve shakes his head, glancing out of the window.

“I saw it in her eyes. Y/N needs to decide without me or Bucky pushing her around. Three are one too much, I guess. She’s strong and smart, Clint. Y/N will make the right decision. I can’t act like her father or Bucky and try to force her into something she doesn’t want to do.”

Clint nods, glancing out of the window, licking his lips. “What about the juicy information we gathered? Wouldn’t this change her mind, boss?”

“Clint, in her situation she needs someone to protect her, someone doing anything to keep her safe. If it’s Bucky doing so, it’s fine by me. All I want is for Y/N to be safe and sound. Send Vis (Vision) to observe Bucky’s house. If she leaves the Mansion, tell me so and we pick her up.”

“I’m on it, boss. Shame you didn’t tell her the truth about Mark…”

Clint silently leaves the room while Steve still looks out of the window. Recalling the day, he closes his eyes, feeling your hand on his cheek, your lips pressed against his. “Soon…” He whispers as his lips curve into a smile.

----

“Stop fighting me, Y/N. Give me five minutes to tell you something. While you were sleeping I got a call from Fury. Do you remember Nick? One of my father’s friends? He is still a cop, a Captain by now and keeps me up to date with cases and investigations around my business.” Bucky explains while you glare at him.

“I don’t want to know anything about your shady business. Now let me go!” Wiggling you start cursing feeling Bucky’s erection pressing against your thigh.

“Sorry, Baby Girl. If you are mad you’re so fucking sexy. I’ve missed my bad girl, missed the girl fighting back and kicking my ass with all might.” Bucky groans.

“Let me go!”

“I’ll let go of you if you promise to give me the chance to tell you what Fury told me last night. If you still want to leave the Mansion I’ll call Steve to bring you somewhere safe.”

Weighing your options, you look up at Bucky, nodding. “Fine, I’ll give you ten minutes.”

“Good.”

Letting go of you Bucky sits next to you, nervously moving his hand through his shaggy hair. Clearing his throat he gets the wedding band you tossed onto the floor out of his pocket, playing with the simple golden band.

“Last night Fury called me, telling me someone broke into Wanda’s apartment.” Bucky begins and you gasp.

“James…” Voice trembling you feel tears breaking free. “What happened…?”

“I don’t know how to tell you, but someone broke into her apartment and shot her. I don’t know how; she should’ve been protected by her family’s security. I…”

Composing himself Bucky takes your hand in his, squeezing it tightly. “She didn’t make it, Y/N. I’m so sorry. She meant a lot to all of us. I swear we will find out who killed her.”

Bringing you into his arms James let you cry into his chest. Wanda was your only friend left. The only one ready to help you without awaiting something in return.

“She was my only friend…”

“Shh…Baby Girl. I swear we will find out who was after her, but we know one thing for sure. You are in danger too. The killer left a list. Wanda’s name was crossed out, just like Maria’s and Marcos. Both died last week. Maria in Cannes and Marcos died in a car accident in New York.”

Bucky holds you tighter as you ask him why you are in danger too. “Your name, Y/N. It’s on the list, just like mine, Steve’s and some other names.” Holding tight onto James you try to process your best friend got murdered and that you could be next. “Please stay with me…”

“I’ll stay if you answer one question.”

“Whatever you want to know, Y/N. I’ll promise to answer honestly…”

Clearing your throat, you wipe away a few tears before you place your hands onto Bucky’s shoulders, locking eyes with him.

“What happened to Mark back then?” You ask and Bucky turns pale…

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all-things-skam · 5 years

Text

Jens’ season | Chapter six

Saturday, February 8th

‘’Where’s your other half?’’ Jens teased, seeing no Sander trailing behind his best friend.

Robbe shook his head and hid his smile. ‘’He’s having lunch with his mom.’’

‘’Oh, so that’s why you came here? Because loverboy had to leave your side?’’

‘’That’s not-’’

‘’I’m kidding,’’ Jens said, grinning. He grabbed a controller from the desk and nodded at the television. ‘’Wanna game?’’

Robbe nodded and grabbed the second controller while Jens set up the console.

Jens knew there was a reason behind Robbe’s impromptu Saturday visit, but Robbe didn't seem to know how to bring up the subject.

After sitting in silence, for what felt like forever, with nothing but the beeps from the game, Robbe finally spoke. ‘’Sorry about last night, again,’’ he apologized, blush covering his cheeks and ears. ‘’I...didn’t mean to-’’

Jens shook his head. ‘’It’s okay, Robbe.’’

‘’Wanna talk about it?’’

‘’What is there to talk about?’’

‘’Why didn’t you tell me? About Lucas.’’

‘’Why do I have to tell? It’s not anyone’s business.’’

‘’Coming out of the closet is a part of the journey, Jens.’’

‘’I’m not in a closet. I-I’m not ashamed of who I am.’’

Robbe recoiled just a bit at the comment and Jens instantly regretted it. Shit. He didn’t mean to dig at Robbe. It was the last thing he wanted, knowing how difficult Robbe’s self acceptance had been.

He just meant that his situation wasn’t the same as Robbe’s - they couldn't compare. Everyone's experience is different, not everyone reacts to their sexual awakening the same. For some, realizing that their sexuality might differ from the society's common basket was hard to accept.

Jens paused, trying to find his next words carefully.

How to explain his situation to his best friend without diminishing his own experience?

‘’To me, it doesn’t matter who I’m attracted to. If it’s a girl that catches my eyes, then it’s a girl and, until recently, if it’s a boy, it’s a boy. Simple as that.’’

Robbe frowned. ‘’So...you still like girls?’’

‘’Yes.’’

‘’You’re bisexual, then?’’

Jens thought for a minute. Labels were tacky and invasive - he didn't like them. One's sexual preferences was nobody's business but theirs. But, if he really had to chose one, bisexual would be the most accurate.

‘’Yeah. I guess that’s what I am.’’

“How long have you known? That you also liked guys, I mean.”

“Ever since you told me that you liked Sander and not me.”

The controller hit the floor and Robbes mouth dropped open. Jens burst out laughing.

“Dude, I’m joking. It’s really been since I saw Lucas on the first day of school after break. I wouldn’t say it was love at first sight, but he was certainly easy on the eyes.”

The memory of Lucas walking in the courtyard came rushing back, hands in his pockets, curly fringe shadowing over his forehead, golden from the sun shining on them. His sharp jawbone and bright eyes had caught Jens' attention immediately.

“So, have you guys been together long?”

Jens glared at Robbe with a slight annoyance. “What is this? 20 questions?”

“You did the same to me once you found out about Sander, so this is just payback,” the brunet defended. ‘’And, can’t I be interested in my best friend's love life? I don’t want you to leave me in the unknown like I did.’’

Jens let out a sigh, admitting his past doing. Maybe he could answer some of Robbe’s question - just to satisfy his curiosity.

“It’s only been since Amber’s birthday party.”

“Jens, that was like almost a month ago.”

The raven haired boy shrugged. He didn't mean to let Robbe in the dark about Lucas. At least, not forever. But, sometimes, it's nice to keep your little happinesses to yourself.

‘’So,’’ Robbe started, a mischievous smile curling on his lips. ‘’Is Lucas your boyfriend?’’

Jens shrugged, honestly. He hadn’t thought about that yet. ‘’I don’t know… We haven’t talked about it yet.’’

“Well you might want to have that conversation soon since Valentine's Day is Friday, and you will need to know if you and your boyfriend are doing anything special,” Robbe teased.

With everything else going on, Jens had completely forgotten about Valentine's Day. It hadn’t been a problem in the past. Jana always made sure to remind him that it was coming, but now that he was single, Valentine’s Day wasn’t something Jens had to think about.

Groaning, Jens fell back on his bed. “Shit, what am I going to do now?”

Robbe shrugged. ‘’I don’t know, but, next time, lock the door.’’

Jens laughed. ‘’Will do.’’

Sunday, February 9th

The rain pouring outside had caused the cancellation of all the parties, obligating the teenagers to stay home and find other activities to occupy their Saturday night. Robbe and Aaron quickly made plans with their respective lovers, leaving Moyo and Jens to play Fortnite from each other’s room.

Despite being Saturday night, Jens had planned to go to bed soon. His beauty sleep had taken a toll lately because of his parents’ late night fights and he could feel himself falling asleep during the game.

He was about to tell Moyo he was off to bed when he heard commotion from downstairs, followed by slurred grumblings.

Oh no...

Jens sighed and checked the time on his phone: 1am. His dad must’ve come back from wherever he was and, guessing by the noises downstairs, it must’ve been the bar - or anywhere he could get alcohol.

Lucky for him, Lotte and Fenna weren’t home to see this. Jens’ mom had been clear about no more coming home drunk. Jens could cover for his dad, put him to bed and act like nothing happened in the morning, but he didn’t want to. Not tonight.

Jens: I know it’s late...but can I crash at your place? My dad came home drunk and I don’t want to deal with it tonight

Minutes passed and there was no response from Lucas. Jens was getting worried he’d have to stay here and that Lucas was asleep, but it was the weekend. No one goes to bed early on Saturday night, right? Well, Sunday, now.

Lucas: Always ❤

After getting Lucas’ response, Jens put on his shoes and rain jacket and slipped out of the house, walking to where he remembered Lucas’ house was.

He felt shitty for letting his mom deal with the casualties in the morning when she’d get back from her night shift, but Jens needed a break. And a good night of sleep without any interruptions. If he stayed home, he’d have to take care of his drunk father and he wouldn’t be able to catch up on sleep.

The lights were all off on Lucas’s street, everyone most likely asleep at this hour. Jens knocked on the door and waited for the Dutch boy to answer and open.

A sleepy Lucas opened the door, hair matted from sleeping on one side. He was wearing a white sleeping shirt, thin and worn out, bringing out the blue of his eyes.

''Sorry for coming here this late,'' Jens apologized, seeing Lucas's sleepy face. He glanced down, chewing on his bottom lip. ''I didn’t mean to wake you-’’

‘’It’s okay.’’ Lucas shrugged. '’I fell asleep on the couch watching TV, it’s nothing.’’ The brunet stepped back, making room for Jens to get inside. ‘’Come in.’’

The house was smaller than Jens’ and had a lot less furniture. Most of which had probably been left in Utrecht, at Lucas’ mom’s house. They passed by the living room and Lucas turned off the television, the cartoons still playing turning black. He led Jens to his room and closed the door.

A small lamp on Lucas’ nightstand lit the place dimly, enough for Jens to make out the unpacked boxes still on the floor, left there for when Lucas will feel like putting them away - which wasn’t anytime soon. There was a couple pictures taped on the wall by Lucas’ bed, some Jens recognized from the brunet’s Instagram. Lucas’ backpack was laying on the floor, textbooks spilling out right next to his desk.

‘’Do you need anything to sleep in?’’ Lucas asked, pulling Jens from his visual exploring.

He shook his head, twisting on his heels to face Lucas, and chuckled. ‘’I don’t think anything will fit me anyway.’’

‘’Right,’’ he agreed, feeling like an idiot for asking.

Jens wasn’t bigger, but he was more built more squared than the Dutch boy - who was on the leaner side. Lucas’ tee shirts could fit him, but it would be tight around the shoulders and that wasn’t comfortable.

Standing in the middle of his own bedroom, Lucas didn’t know what to say after the personal bomb Jens had dropped on him over texts. It was the first time Jens had opened up to him, and he wanted to be supportive but he didn’t want to push him to talk either.

‘’Do you want to talk about it? Your dad.’’

Jens shook his head. ‘’Not tonight. I just want to sleep. Can we do that?’’

‘’Yeah.’’ Lucas nodded and went to the bed and sat.

He tidied the pillows and blankets, making room for the pretty boy who will spend the night with him, catching himself watching- staring as Jens peeled off his hoodie and jeans, leaving him in a tee shirt and underwear. There wasn’t anything creepy nor sexual, he just really liked looking at Jens’ body.

Jens sat on the bed beside Lucas, their legs brushing at how close they were, feeling the warmth of Lucas’ skin through his grey joggers. “Thanks for letting me come over,’’ he apologized. ‘’Again, I’m sorry if I woke you up-”

“Jens,’’ Lucas interrupted. He sighed, shaking his head. ‘’It’s okay. I told you if you needed to talk I’d be there. It’s nice to know you wanted to come here, to come to me,’’ he said, feeling like he was admitting more than what the words were saying.

“I know, it’s just... I don’t know. I’ve got a lot on my mind lately.” Jens sighed, hiding his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees.

Hesitantly, Lucas put his head on his shoulder, kissing Jens through his tee shirt.

‘’You don’t have to keep everything to yourself, you know?’’

Jens stared off into the distance of the semi-dark room. He wanted to open up to Lucas and tell him everything that was on his mind, but he didn’t want to dump all of his problems on him and taint his only source of happiness. Jens wanted to preserve his time with Lucas, happy and appeasing as possible, a stark contrast from every other aspect of his life he didn't have control over. By dumping all his home life problems on Lucas, Jens didn’t want to risk this feeling and was afraid he wouldn’t have anywhere else to get this happiness from.

They also only met about a month ago and it wouldn’t be fair to unload everything on him. Jens had never been one to rant about his problems. He’d share situations with his friends, light troubles, but would never lay out his dirty laundry to them - not that he had anything worth telling before.

‘’Shall we get some sleep now?’’ Lucas suggested, smoothing a hand down Jens’ back, sensing he wouldn’t get any words out of him tonight. It was okay, though. He’ll talk in his own time, when he’s ready.

Jens nodded. Sleep will be good. He needed a good sleep.

Lucas slid away from Jens and turned off the lamp, crawling back and taking the spot near the wall, trying to leave room for the raven haired boy. ‘’Little warning, my bed is a bit smaller than yours.’’

Shrugging, Jens joined Lucas higher on the bed, laying his head on the grey pillowcase. ‘’I’ll just hold you tighter,’’ he responded.

Content with Jens’ response, Lucas moved closer and rubbed his cold feet against Jens’ bare calves, tangling their legs together under the comforter. Jens lifted his arm in order to make room for Lucas to snuggle in close. He breathed in the sweet scent of Lucas' shampoo, soft curls tickling his chin.

Lucas talked quietly, telling Jens about that time he slept over at Kes' for the first time and had to call him mom in the middle of the night - okay, it was 9pm - because he couldn't sleep in another bed than his own. Jens laughed at the childhood anecdote. How could he not?

He listened as Lucas continued his story, allowing himself to finally relax. Lucas' voice was soothing and calm in the dark room.

Half way through the second story, Jens felt Lucas’ body become heavy with deep sleep. He glanced down, making out Lucas' delicate features in the darkness, and smiled.

He could easily get used to this.

Waking up next to Lucas was...warm. It’s been a moment since Jens last shared a bed and he had forgotten how hot you get through the night. Getting sweaty during the night from cuddling and being so close to another body was the only downside to sharing a bed. Other than that, it’s just perks.

Jens' eyebrow twitched, fighting away whatever had brushed it. He felt it again, the same feather light touch, descending on his face, tracing the bridge of his nose and then his lips. He scrunched his nose and heard a soft giggle very close to him.

His lips curved into a smile, remembering where he was. In Lucas' bed. With Lucas.

Jens' eyes started to flutter and he began to shift, for once pleased to wake up.

''Morning,'' Lucas said, his breath tickling Jens' neck as he spoke.

He had been waiting for Jens to wake up, trying to pull him from his deep sleep without waking him.

Jens hummed, eyes still closed. ‘’Slept like a baby.’’

‘’Clearly. It’s almost noon,’’ Lucas pointed, kissing Jens’ shoulder.

Jens laughed, this time opening his eyes, grateful that Lucas had thick blinds over his window. The sun was so bright at this time of the day.

‘’You hungry?’’ Lucas asked, propping himself up on his elbow, staring down at the boy in his bed, tangled in his sheets. ‘’I’m not the best cook, but I make amazing toast.’’

‘’You’re offering me breakfast?’’ Jens asked, a bit surprised. ‘’I thought you’d hold me hostage in your room and sneak me out some time later.’’

Lucas pulled his eyebrows, shaking his head. ‘’Why would I do that?’’

It’s what Jana did when we were together.

‘’I’d like some toast.’’

It took them a few more minutes - and a growling warning from Jens’ stomach - before they pulled themselves out of bed and decided to leave Lucas’ bedroom. They went to the kitchen and Lucas began to raid the fridge of anything edible to go along with the toast that he had promised.

“So, where is your dad today?” Jens asked, suddenly reminded that he was only wearing his underwear and a tee shirt in the Van Der Heijdens’ kitchen.

How awkward would it be if Lucas’ dad had been here?

‘’He’s at a congress for his work. Or something.’’ He put slices of bread in the toaster and pushed down the button. ‘’Won’t be back until late afternoon.’’

Nodding, Jens jumped onto the counter and grabbed an apple from the nearby basket and began tossing it in the air, passing time.

A silence filled the kitchen as they waited for the toaster to pop. Jens had an idea of how to fill it, but, truth be told, he was a bit nervous. Yeah, Jens Stoffels was nervous. Shocker, huh? Lucas had this effect on him. He made Jens feel nervous, and excited and warm and out of control - everything at the same time.

‘’Robbe came over yesterday. He...he asked if you were my boyfriend.’’

Lucas stilled, surprised, and took a few seconds before speaking. ‘’Am I?’’

‘’Do you want to be?’’ Jens asked back, setting the apple down and hopping off the counter, eyes set on the back of Lucas’ head where wild curls were sticking up and the moles on the uncovered part of his back.

‘’Do you want me to?’’ Lucas asked, shielding himself as he bit his bottom lip anxiously, hoping Jens will give him the answer he wanted.

‘’I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to.''

Jens came up behind Lucas and touched his shoulder, making Lucas turn around. The brunet’s face was tipped down, trying to hide his smile and pink cheeks from Jens, but the latter tilted Lucas’ chin up to get a better view of his face.

‘’So, what do you say? Will you officially be my boyfriend?”

Lucas' smile widened and he cupped Jens face, placing a kiss on his lips, as if to make their status official. He had the intention to stop there, going just for a quick kiss, but Jens’ hand slid into Lucas’ hair, fingers buried in the curls, time forgotten as they kissed, slow and lazy.

Grey smoke started coming from the toaster, a burnt smell filling the air, but both went unnoticed by the new couple, too busy in their own bubble. It wasn’t until the smoke detector’s alarm went off, the chirp blaring through the kitchen that Lucas broke from the kiss, eyes wide.

''Shit, the toasts!'' He sped to the toaster and turned it off, making the toasts jump up, completely burnt and past the edible stage of burnt.

Jens followed him behind, snickering. ''I thought you made 'amazing toasts'.'' He picked one up, immediately dropping it on the counter as it burned his fingers. ''This is carbonized.''

Lucas glared. “If you hadn't distracted me…’’

‘’You initiated the kiss!’’ Jens pointed out.

“Only because you got all serious and asked me to be your boyfriend. What was I supposed to do? Stand there?” he asked, raising an eyebrow and exposing his pretty blue eyes.

Jens smiled, watching with amusement as Lucas got mildly irritated over small nothings. He thought it was really cute that their first ‘argument’ was about burnt toast and officially being together.

Extending his arms, Jens reached out for Lucas- his boyfriend and drew him to him, circling his arms around his smaller frame. Lucas exhaled a sigh, hugging Jens' middle and pushing his face into his neck.

''As much as I am liking this, you're gonna have to let me go. Those toasts aren't going to put themselves in the toaster,'' Lucas pointed out, yet not letting go of the other boy.

Jens snorted. ''No shit?''

Lucas pulled back, frowning. ''I thought you were hungry...''

''Yeah, but you can make me breakfast later.’’ Jens loosened his hold and descended his hands down, getting a full grasp of Lucas’ ass, making the latter’s cheeks flush. ‘’This is what I want now. And this.'' He started kissing along Lucas’s jaw, trailing his lips down the side of his neck. ''What time does your dad gets home, again?''

Humming, Lucas tilted his neck, giving Jens more room to kiss, as he tried to remember what his dad had texted him yesterday. ‘’Around 4pm? I think.’’

‘’That’s fine by me.’’

Without taking his lips off Lucas, Jens walked them back in the direction of Lucas’s bedroom, impatient to pull off some layers and get their hands on each other. Lucas giggled as Jens guided him into the hallway table, almost knocking down whatever was on it.

Monday, February 10th

The veggies were still a bit crunchy as Jens chewed them, needing a supplementary minute or two of cooking, but Jens didn’t comment on it. The carrots were fine. His mom did the best she could in ten minutes.

‘’Ines is having a sleepover on Saturday,’’ Lotte announced after she was served her dinner, stabbing a carrot with her fork. ‘’Can I go?’’

Fenna pulled her eyebrows. ‘’Didn’t you two have a sleepover this past weekend?’’ With her crazy schedule, she was losing track of time sometimes.

‘’Yeah, but it wasn’t for her birthday. Can I go? Please Mama, she’s my best friend,’’ she begged, pouting and all.

Fenna sighed. Birthdays meant presents and, with their current financial situation, they didn’t have spare money for an impromptu birthday present for Ines. The money Jens had given her had helped, but they still had the eviction notice to worry about and pay before it was too late.

It crushed Fenna’s heart to tell her daughter ‘no’, but maybe it was time she learned the value of money and that she can’t always go to birthday parties.

‘’Lotte, I don’t think-’’

‘’Friday is Valentine’s Day, Lotte.” Jens piped in. “I think Mom and Dad already have plans for the weekend plus, I thought we could do something special together.”

Lotte looked at him, eyebrows pulled together, as if trying to figure out if he was serious. “You’re only asking me because you have nobody else to spend it with.”

Jens couldn’t deny that she was right - half right. Technically, he didn't have someone to spend Valentine's Day with. This weekend fell on Lucas' mom's weekend and he'll be in Utrecht, leaving Jens by himself on Lovers' Day.

All Jens wanted to do was spend this day - of all days - with his new boyfriend, but now was not the time to come out to his family and tell them about Lucas. Plus, it was too early in their relationship to be introduced to each other's parents.

“I’m asking you because you are my favorite girl, next to Mom of course, and I want to do something special with you.”

Fenna tried to hide her laugh at Jens remark.

“Like what?” Lotte asked, still skeptical.

“Well, I was thinking we could bake Valentine's Day cupcakes together and decorate them with pink and red frosting, candies and everything. Maybe we could watch movies too? What about the live-action Aladdin? Or Beauty and the Beast?''

Lotte thought about it for a minute, but before she could give Jens an answer, they heard the front door open and close. Jens glanced at his mom across the table, knowing that it was his dad and Fenna tensed, worried her husband was intoxicated.

Much to their surprise, Mohamed had an unusual smile when he walked into the kitchen. Her seat facing the kitchen entrance, Lotte saw him first and let out a squeal, happy to see her father.

‘’Dad! Dad! I got an 8 on my Math test,’’ Lotte announced proudly. She jumped down from her chair and went to get her test from her backpack.

‘’Careful. Don’t get sauce all over your test, Lotte.’’

Mohamed took the paper, smiling at his daughter, proud of her progress. ‘’Really? That’s amazing, Sweetie. I knew you could do it.’’

‘’Jens helped me a lot. He taught me how to multiplicate because I couldn’t understand what the teacher was doing.’’

He sat at the table and gave a thankful smile to his son.

‘’You hungry? I didn’t know if you were going to be there for dinner so I didn’t make you a plate.’’

‘’I’ll fetch myself a plate, but, first, I have good news.’’ He glanced at his family, the three of them sitting at the dinner table, and smiled. ‘’I...I found a job.’’

‘’You did? Where? How? ’’ Fenna asked, trying to contain her excitement.

‘’A friend of mine told me they needed a new guy at his workplace. I applied and he gave them a good reference about me and...I got the job,’’ he explained simply, crossing the kitchen to stand by his wife. ‘’Things are going to get better now,’’ Mohamed whispered to Fenna, careful so Lotte wouldn’t hear, camouflaging his secret with a kiss on her cheek.

Jens looked at his dad with disbelief and skepticism. He wanted to believe that his dad wasn’t lying, but there was something, something he just couldn’t put his finger on, that made him question this sudden new job. Like, how could he get a job so fast? How come that after weeks - months, even - of searching for a new job that an offer was presented to him so quickly.

Tuesday, February 11th

After seeing Lucas coming out of the boys' gym locker room, there was no way Jens was going home without him. Fresh faced, his hair was still damp from the shower he just took, perfect curls resting over his forehead, and he smelled of sweet vanilla soap - and a touch of woodsy Jens didn't recognize.

Without thinking twice, Jens pulled him back into the locker room, not caring if there were still people left, and kissed him hard. Lucas followed willingly, tugging Jens closer by the side of his sweatshirt and smiling into the kiss.

Once they started, they couldn't stop. They could've, but they didn't want to.

Jens felt Lucas’ smile fade as the kiss deepened, becoming more serious somehow, tongues sliding together, becoming a bit too explicit for school.

Conveniently, Jens' phone buzzed in his pocket, a message from his mom saying she was going grocery shopping with Lotte after school.

The timing couldn't have been better.

Jens' hand slid under Lucas' shirt, grazing his stomach, making the hair rise on his skin as they kissed. Their motions were calm and relaxed, kissing languidly, bathing in each other's embrace.

It was a change from their usual horny teenager rhythm, laying there, so close to each other, with no intentions of taking it further than soft kisses and wandering hands.

Lucas pulled Jens closer, rolling them so Jens was on top. He liked this. Feeling Jens' weight, heavy and warm on top of him. His hand was hot against Jens' thigh, the warmth of his palm cutting through the denim.

‘’Do you have weed, by chance?’’ Lucas asked, his voice a soft mumble.

Jens hummed. ‘’Yeah. It’s in the first drawer over there.’’

Lucas smiled and removed himself from under Jens, making the latter whine in protest and grasp at the back of Lucas’ tee shirt, trying to pull him back to him. Lucas laughed. ‘’I forgot mine at my mom’s when I last visited. I had something else on my mind,’’ he explained, glancing at Jens with a knowing smile, flashing back to two weeks ago at the train station.

‘You’re gonna have to roll though, I don't have any pre-rolled joint. There’s a grinder and papers in the back.’’

Jens watched as Lucas crossed the room, hair messy from Jens relentlessly running his hands through it and his tee shirt wrinkled from rolling in the sheets for the past half hour. He smiled smugly, letting himself sink deeper into his pillows, asking himself how he got so lucky.

‘’Did you find it?’’ Jens asked from his spot on the bed, seeing Lucas standing still in front of the open drawer. ‘’Luc?’’

Turning on his heels, the brunet held up a baggie of colorful pills, fingers clutching the plastic tight. ‘’What’s this?’’

Lucas wasn’t an idiot. He knew what those were, but a part of him was hoping that he was wrong. That his boyfriend didn’t have drugs hidden in his drawer.

Fuck.

Jens sat up, panic flashing through his eyes. Shit, shit, shit. ‘’I’m not taking them,’’ he defended immediately.

‘’Then, why is it in your drawers?’’ Lucas demanded, eyes on Jens, expecting further explanations. ‘’This shit is addicting and dangerous. Have you not seen enough deaths caused by Xanax or even Fentanyl?’’

‘’I’m not doing drugs, Luc. I promise.’’

‘’But why do you have them?’’

‘’Because I sell them!’’ Jens felt himself being weighed down at the confession, taking a few steps back and sitting back on his bed. ‘’I sell them…’’ he repeated with a calmer tone, shoulders slumping. ‘’I’m doing this for my family.’’

Stunned and confused, Lucas’ eyebrows furrowed.

‘’About 3 months ago my dad lost his job with no severance pay, so my mom has had to pick up a lot of double shifts at the hospital. She has been stretching herself thin and I couldn't keep watching her-’’

Jens' voice interrupted and Lucas sighed, walking over to sit on the bed, no longer feeling like lecturing his boyfriend about the seriousness of taking drugs. Cert, selling drugs didn't take away the danger, but a lecture wasn't what Jens needed right now, it was support.

Exhaling a breath, Jens casted his eyes down on his lap, trying to gather his thoughts. He wanted to be honest with Lucas, but he wasn’t the only one involved and Jens doubted his parents would want their financial struggles to be spreading around to strangers.

‘’Money started becoming a bigger problem over the past weeks and I didn’t know what else to do. I just knew that I wanted to help. I'm helping a lot at home with my sister, graduation is so close too; it was impossible for me to get a job. So, I took the easy way and started selling drugs.'' Jens paused, scoffing a humorless laugh and shaking his head. ''My mom thinks I sold stuff - that's what I told her. I hate lying to her, but I can't exactly tell her where it came from because I know she won't take the money even though she needs it.''

Family was important for Jens. Especially his mom and sister. He loved his family and would do anything for them, to help them.

''At first, it was just weed, but Michiel convinced me to do more, to expand my sales to pills. He said that it would pay more too, so I accepted.’’

Jens knew Lucas wasn't proud of him, that he didn't approve of his way, but it brought money home, it helped his parents. Even if it was dirty money.

Lucas took Jens’ hands in his, supportive and understanding. ‘’I know you want to help your family, Jens, but this drugs shit isn’t the solution,’’ he said, worry in his tone.

‘’For now it is,’’ Jens pressed. ‘’It's not permanent, okay. I promise. Just until things get easier at home.’’

The world of drugs was anything but safe, but Lucas knew there was nothing he could say that would make Jens backtrack.

He sighed. ‘’Be careful. Please. These guys aren’t fucking around.’’

Thursday, February 13th

Tomorrow was Valentine’s Day and Jens still hadn’t found an answer to his question: should he get something for Lucas? They had been official for only four days, but it was Valentine’s Day. Couples get something for their partners regardless how long they’ve been together.

He laid on his back, staring at his ceiling in hope to find his answer. He didn't want to go for the cheesy rose or chocolate - even though Lucas and his sweet tooth would’ve loved chocolate. He couldn't draw like Sander or write cute poems like girls often do.

Jens sighed. And he thought buying a Christmas present for a secret santa was difficult/tricky/complicated; this was far worse.

A soft vibration shook his mattress and Jens reached for his phone.

Aaron: Anyone has a red shirt to lend me for tomorrow?

Jens: Shit. The Valentine’s Day theme…

Tomorrow, in honor of Valentine’s Day, their school’s had a themed dress code where the students had to wear something pink or red. It sounded a bit childish, something Lotte’s school would’ve done, but Jens had no choice but to participate. It wasn’t really a problem for him though, having a lot of red shirts in his closet.

Moyo: Are you wearing pink tomorrow, Robbe?

Robbe: Not all gays wears pink, you know 😑

Moyo: 😘

Moyo: Are we going to the bar again this year? There’s always hot chicks looking to hook up on Valentine’s Day

Robbe: Can’t. Sander made plans, but he didn’t tell me. I asked for something chill. Staying in is fine with me. As long as we’re together, I don’t care what we’re doing

Aaron: Sap 🤮

Robbe: 🖕🏻

Robbe: And you, with Amber?’’

Aaron: We’re going to the movies. They have a special screening of The Notebook and Valentine’s Day. I’m also going to get flowers for her

Jens: Wow, I would’ve never thought you were the romantic type

Aaron: Amber told me exactly what she wanted to do

Moyo: Of course she did

Aaron: You’re just jealous because you’re the only single person this year

Moyo: Fuck you all 🖕🏻

Moyo: And you, Jens, any plans with the mystery girl?

Jens: Yeah. Her name’s Lotte

Moyo: As in your sister?

Moyo: Dude you have to babysit? That fucking blows!!

Jens: I would rather spend time with her all evening than watch your ass get rejected by girls all evening and then come crying to me about it

Robbe: 😂

Aaron: 😂👏

Moyo: 🖕🏻

Jens: You can join us though. We’re going to make cupcakes

Moyo: Can we put weed in it?

Jens: Wtf? She’s 8 bro...

Friday, February 14th

‘’I left a rose in Amber’s locker this morning,’’ Aaron told the boys at lunch, bragging about his superior romanticism.

Robbe shook his head. ‘’And I’m the sap?’’

‘’It’s romantic! The girls will go all ‘aw’ when she’ll show them. I think they’re jealous.’’

‘’So you’re doing this to impress Amber’s friends?’’ Jens recapitulated, messing with his friend.

Aaron opened his mouth to defend himself, stopping mid-way when he realized Jens had tricked him and didn't know how to respond to that. ‘’No! I did it for Amber. She likes romantic gestures.’’

Moyo and Robbe laughed, pulling out their lunches from their bag while Aaron was already almost done with his. How can he be finished so fast? They just got here. Jens was about to do the same when his pocket began to vibrate.

Lucas: Meet me in the library 💋📚

Jens didn’t take a second to think, taking his bag from the chair next to him and stood. ‘’Gotta go. I’ll catch you guys later.’’

‘’Where are you going? We just sat down like ten minutes ago,’’ Robbe asked.

Jens bit down his lip, trying to think fast of a quick lie, but Moyo beat him to it and spoke first.

‘’I bet you’re meeting up with that Tuesday chick to make out,’’ he guessed, raising his eyebrows and making kissy noises.

‘’I knew there was a mystery girl!’’ Aaron added, a bit too cheerful.

Jens snorted, shaking his head. ‘’You wish.’’

Jens walked in the library and smiled politely at the librarian at the front desk. He didn’t go there...ever so she was probably confused to see a new face. He walked along the aisle, trying to look for Lucas’ table among the sea of pink and red students.

The library wasn't too crowded - not that Jens knew how many people came here daily. He recognized a few people he had classes in common with but kept going. His heart began to race, a tightening feeling in his stomach, when he saw the head of curls in the pink sweatshirt. Jens smiled, sneaking up on him.

‘’Aren’t you supposed to be studying?’’ Jens seductively whispered in his ear.

A shiver ran down Lucas’ spine and the brunet looked up, blue eyes staring at Jens, pencil between his teeth. He had a pile of books and papers strategically placed according to all his exams up for re-do because of his mid-year move.

Lucas put his pencil down and grinned, happy to see his boyfriend. ‘’Yeah, but I figured I could use a break,’’ he said, raising an eyebrow.

Reading through his thoughts, Jens smirked and Lucas stood, beckoning Jens to follow him to the back shelves of the library. It was cliché and risky, knowing they’ll both get kicked out if they get caught kissing between stacks, but they didn’t care.

Lucas backed up until he touched the wall behind him, reaching for Jens and tugging him down for a kiss, hands bunching up the material of his hoodie.

‘’Cute.’’

Lucas cocked an eyebrow. ‘’Me?’’

Jens rolled his eyes. ‘’That too.’’ He set his hands on Lucas’ waist, slipping under his sweatshirt and pulling him closer. ‘’I meant your sweatshirt. You look good in pink.’’ Jens dipped his head and kissed under his ear, making Lucas tilt his head back to make more room.

‘’That’s why I wore it today. I know you like it on me.’’

‘’It’s the one you wore at the skatepark. After our first kiss.’’

How could Jens not remember that moment? Lucas in a pink oversized sweatshirt, sunlight shining on him on top of the half-pipe. The sleeves were covering his hands a bit, fingers peeking out, looking cute as hell.

‘’I did?’’ Lucas asked, not remembering well.

Jens hummed, pressing his forehead against Lucas’, feeling the Lucas’ hands slide into his hair.

‘’Sucks that my first Valentine’s Day as a non-single person I have to be away from my boyfriend,’’ Lucas lamented with a sad sigh.

Jens was sad too, but he didn’t show it, not wanting to make Lucas feel more upset about spending Valentine's Day miles away from each other. Instead, he captured Lucas’ lips with his, cupping his jaw and deepening the kiss, making the brunet forget about tonight. Pressing himself closer to Jens, Lucas let out a small sound that was a bit too loud and inappropriate for a secret library make out session.

As Jens’ hands were starting to travel south towards Lucas’ backside, a large crash came from the otherside of the library, making Jens and Lucas jump apart from each other. Lucas went to the end of the row to see what was going on.

“Someone knocked over a book cart.”

Looking at the time on his phone, Jens groaned. “The bell is about to ring. Will I see you before you leave?”

“I’m catching an early train so I’ll be leaving before my last class.”

Jens sighed, not to pleased that he wasn’t going to give Lucas a proper send off. ‘’See you Sunday, then?’’

Lucas nodded, pressing one last kiss to Jens’ lips. ‘’Sunday.’’

Lotte ditched him. His little sister ditched him for her best friend whose birthday party she couldn’t attend on Saturday. After telling Ines the tearable news, the little girl decided to invite Lotte over and have a Valentine’s Day girls night to make up for her non attendance.

That left Jens by himself on Friday night - on Valentine’s Day night.

His mom was at work - and hopefully his dad too. It was weird to see him get ready in the morning and go to work, having a routine again. He’d drop Lotte off every morning, her school being on his way, and come back around dinner time or later depending on the day.

Sitting on his couch with a bag of chips, Jens flipped through the channels, trying to find something to watch. He rolled his eyes when seeing only bad cheesy movies like Valentine’s Day and The Notebook. And the news.

With a sigh, Jens sent a message to Moyo.

Jens: Wanna come over? My plans got cancelled

Moyo: Can’t bro. There’s so many hot chicks here. Tonight is a good night for me, I can feel it!!

Moyo: Come to the bar!

Jens scrunched his face. He didn’t feel like going to a bar tonight. He didn’t have money for drinks and didn’t feel like dancing and grinding himself against girls - or anyone else other than his boyfriend. If Robbe and Aaron would’ve been there, maybe Jens would’ve reconsidered. But, they weren’t.

He didn’t bother texting Moyo back, sinking into the couch’s back pillows and checking his social media, trying to cure his boredom. Sander had posted a cute selfie of him and Robbe on their date, making Jens smile. He liked the post and scrolled down to the next picture. Aaron had posted on his Instagram too, a picture of a popcorn and movie theater seats, telling everyone how in love he was with Amber.

Seeing his friends on dates with their respective lovers reminded Jens how he was the only one of the gang to not spend his night with his significant other. It hadn’t even been 8 hours since Lucas had left Antwerp and, already, he was missing his beautiful face.

Jens stood, dusting off the crumbs on his shirt and headed to his room, taking advantage of his parents’ absence to smoke a joint. It’s not like he had anything better to do.

Opening his drawer, Jens saw that he was all out of weed and groaned. He must’ve forgot to keep some for himself and sold everything. He scratched for the back of the drawer, hoping a couple grams had fallen there, but there was none. Fuck.

Mom: Can you pick up Lotte in the morning? I have to do a double and won't be home in time

Jens: Can’t Dad do it?

Mom: He has work

Jens: On the weekend?

Mom: Yes, on the weekend

Mom: Will you pick her up? Please

Jens sighed, missing the old days.

Can’t he just be a teenager for once? He missed the days where he could hangout at Robbe's or Moyo's and do nothing but drink and smoke, partying all weekend. When he got wasted enough, he would just sleep it off and not have to worry about babysitting his sister or his secret side job to help his parents. It was so simple and easy back then...

He almost grabbed his phone and called Moyo for backup, knowing he’ll have some at home, but the latter was at the bar, most likely drunk. And, Jens would have to explain why he was out of weed and why he needed it now. It’s not that he was ashamed of his anxieties, everyone has anxieties, but it wasn't something he wanted to scream on rooftops, never being one to be overly emotional.

Jens was a chill person. Always so calm and collected, easygoing; not much can ruffle his feathers. But, lately, his stress levels have been getting higher and he wasn’t used to so much stress in his life.

With his father's job loss, a lot of other things started to tumble down like an avalanche. Their finances had slowed down, but the bills were piling up, adding to the already tumbling snow. His father's lack of responsibility and empty promises were catching up to them and his mom was exhausted, trying to make up for his mistakes. Jens was trying to hold it back, to help where he could, but there was only so much he could do to prevent the avalanche from swallowing his family.

With time, Jens began to feel the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Despite his best attempts at adulting, teenagers usually don’t have the skills or the brain development necessary to really care for themselves or a full family. Because their brain is still in development - and will only be fully developed around their mid-twenties -, they are more vulnerable to anxiety and stress. There are many moments where they don’t know what they were doing. Frustration mixed with a lack of ability when it comes to 'adulting’ raises teenage anxiety levels.

Keeping everything straight in his mind was difficult. He had to help his parents keep everything from Lotte and take care of her here and there, maintaining good grades, figuring out all these new inclinations regarding his sexuality and falling in love with Lucas.

All of this was overwhelming sometimes.

Without realizing, Jens had found himself self medicating to relieve his stress. Weed, which used to be recreational, was now used to significantly reduce stress and was no longer just for fun.

Even Lucas had become a stress relief without meaning to. With his gorgeous smile and bright eyes, Jens couldn’t help but smile whenever he was in his presence.

Usually, he would lit a blunt and smoke a bit of weed, but when he was all out.

As a last resort, Jens glanced at the baggie of Xanax. He stared at the rectangular white pill, hesitating. He had never taken it before, but he knew it was medically used to ease the mind and calm anxiety, a stress reliever. Just like weed. Taking one pill wouldn’t hurt, right?

He grabbed one from the baggie and popped it into his mouth, swallowing dry.

#vds #jens stoffels #lucas van der heijden #wtfock #van der stoffels #lucas x jens #jens x lucas #skam nl #jens's season #please leave comments #I worked really hard on this one

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lalunangel · 3 years

Text

my dad

i knew my dad in my youth vaguely enough to know he was my papa. he had been gone for literal years and every time he popped in he would cause some heartache and i really started to dislike him. my mom even convinced me that i was the reason he didn’t come around and that he was bad because he hated me so i developed a deep hatred for me dad.

but.. at 14 i gave him a chance. because although he caused a lot of suffering and never played the dad role in my life and i was already basically an adult.. i held no illwill towards him.

so at 14 i was heavily into reading all sorts of books. adult books too. i didn’t ever like to openly admit it but i thought that it was always so interesting. my dad connected to me the best way he could. he read my books. we started a series together but stopped halfway because we couldn’t afford to buy new books every other day. so we never finished it. i still have the books he bought me. they’re very special to me.

my dad became my best friend. so much that i finally started to open up to him about the abuse i endured living with my mom. what boys would do to me. how i hurt myself. how i was severely depressed and no one noticed and why i scream in my sleep. my dad was so kind and willing to learn more about me and take care of me.. i moved in with him by the end of the school year and i lived with him until the summer of graduation.

my dad passed away june 9, 2018. from a heart attack caused by a blood clot. i graduated from high school a couple weeks before. he didn’t bother to go and came up with a shit excuse that i didn’t fall for. i was angry and disappointed. my mom didn’t show either but my mom never looked or wanted success for me. only my dad so i was broken by the fact that my grandma showed and my sister and two distant cousins but not my papa. the only reason i stuck with school and worked hard for good grades. i wouldn’t settle for a c or even b’s because i wanted to make him proud.

i remember the day he died. i finally forgave him for what he did or- didn’t do.. the day before so we were back on good terms. and he asked me to wake him up before i left for work. i did. “Hey papa it’s 6am it’s time to get up” and he woke up with his sleepy face and no glasses and i’m never going to forget.. he got out of bed and said “thank you baby” and i smiled and said “no problem. i gotta go. i love you so much i’ll see you soon!” and he said “i love you too squeeze” i ran up the stairs and went to work. i didn’t get off until 6. it was summer and i wanted to work so hard that i could afford to move out and be happy in my own place and make my dad proud. i got home and i didn’t realize how tired i was and i fell asleep in my work clothes on the pull out couch bed i bought myself from a garage sale a couple months back. i remember him waking me up and laughing about how i needed to change and i needed to eat. it was already really late when he woke me up. i changed into my jammies and i gave him a hug. and i went to eat dinner with my grandma and tell her about my day. my dad ate with us and then went to his room and i sat there. very dazed from my nap. and then he ran into the room saying it hurt. and crying. and begging me to call 911. so i did. i didn’t know what to say. i just wanted him to feel better. i didn’t know what cardiac arrest was until that night. i watched him die.. and then come back.. and for him to say he loved us and beg god to not take him.. and i sat there crying...when they finally showed up they didn’t help much. they couldn’t have anyway. for a year i blamed myself for him dying... i should’ve called sooner.. i should’ve taken him myself. my sister and grandma went to the hospital and told me to stay because he was going to be fine and i had work the next day... 1am came and my sister called my crying.. and i didn’t hesitate to grab my keys and hall ass to the hospital. i didn’t cry that night. i shook violently. i held my sister. i called my mom.. because for once she needed to be a mom.

my mom showed up and my sister curled up in her arms and cried. and i just sat there holding my grandma. i was really sad but i was still processing that my best friend died.. when we finally all went home after we sat there for four hours with his body and my family crying. i went to my room and laid back down and looked at his room door and thought about he wasn’t going to come out that door. that the light wasn’t going to turn on randomly at 3am. that he wasn’t there. and i fell asleep because it rained the whole night. and the next day.. and the next two weeks. i remember dreaming about him telling me he loved me and that he was sorry. and the rain. so when i woke up i thought IT WAS JUST A BAD DREAM!!! but it wasn’t.. i got out of bed..my family still asleep... i went to his room to wake him up.. and i fell to my knees because i knew better and he wasn’t there and his bed was the same as last night and everything was messy and i finally cried.. while everyone else slept. i went back to my room and called my job to let them know i wasn’t able to make it in and explained why. but that i would be back my next working day... because i don’t have time to disappoint him.. and i felt it was all my fault so i needed a distraction. my manager forced me off the schedule for two weeks.. and wouldn’t allow me to pick up shifts because “you need to heal and you can’t heal if you’re constantly hurting at work” so i had to take two weeks- she gave it to me paid. my family from all over came to visit and see him off and comfort us. family apologized to me for not being able to help. apologized to me for my loss. everyone was crying except me.. my mom was even crying... it wasn’t until my dads friend valarie showed up that i finally let everyone see how sad i really was. i held onto her and cried so ugly i ruined her pretty dress. she combed my hair and kissed my forehead- i’m 19... i was an adult. and i was crying like i was a toddler just because someone i found comforting finally showed up. i cried so hard i hiccuped. i cried so hard that everyone gathered around me and hugged me. it was awful. i’m not the attention type. i’m a crybaby by nature but this was my papa. and he died in front of me... and i hadn’t cried for four days.. and here i am crying to an almost stranger and telling her i’m sorry like it’s going to help god bring him back. she didn’t mind. she loved me so hard that i hardly felt sad when i was done.

my family needed a consoling speech the day of the funeral. a way of saying thank you everyone who came. and thank you for being kind to my dad. no one wanted to do it. this is the day after i cried like an ugly baby. and my sweet angelic valarie told me i should say some things. i am riddled with anxiety and i dislike a large portion of my family... and don’t know another large portion. none of my friends who knew my dad showed up. it was just me and my sister. alone in the world again. so i stood up.. and walked to the microphone.. and i shook very violently and my voice was very shaky.. just saying hi to them and saying thank you for coming... my family is not supportive of many things and they don’t believe in my anxiety.., but that day they put aside their beliefs and yelled “we love you angel” “we’ll always be here” “we’re glad you’re talking” “mija it’s okay if you can’t do this” and i shook so violently that my sister who at the time was just 14...had to hold me so i stopped. i laughed after hearing all the nice things.. and the support. and i finally spoke about my dad. i didn’t have a lot to say because i was only 14.. but i knew so much that i spoke enough to comfort my family.

i don’t remember what i said- but i know i said thank you. and i made jokes about my dad. and talked about all the good memories i had with him. and how grateful i was because he wanted me so much. and that i was sad and that i was sorry i wasn’t crying but i wanted to be strong for those who felt much worse than me. and i remember one by one each of them slowly standing up and saying “We love you girls” to my sister and i while we stood up there. i remember shaking so hard that valarie stood up and went to hold my hand and how i laughed nervously and said “i want to cry because this is a really nice moment but also i’m deeply hurting. i just want all of us to heal and for god to give us his light back” and shaking so hard that valarie latched herself on to me and my sister. and she spoke on behalf of us the rest of the time while we stood there. i was 18- my sister 14. if you didn’t know our age we looked like two 10y/o’s shaking under the pressure. this really sad song dad liked a lot played after and i turned around and hugged my sister.. who was crying so hard and ugly that i was afraid that they only heard her. we sat there next to him on the floor shaking and crying and hugging for what felt like hours... our home was gone.. my grandma got up and kneeled down and hugged us.. and so did my grandpa.. and my tías.. and all of my cousins... shaking... i remember shaking so hard and hearing my sisters ugly sobs and thinking “who would’ve thought we would love you this much” i.. know if my mom died i wouldn’t cry. i wouldn’t shake. i’d sit there and comfort my family. my sister and my grandma are very different for me.. i love them with everything... like i loved my dad... and i remember thinking “you finally brought us all together” he finally did it... in the worst way possible... we went to the cemetery which is really far- and i apparently shook so much my body was tired i fell asleep on the ride on my grandpas shoulder.. he didn’t hesitate to hold me. we fell asleep together... and i woke up thinking my dad was holding me.. and clinging to my grandpa the rest of the day... he wouldn’t let me go either. he held me so tight that i thought i’d burst. i remember them praying loudly when they were putting sand on the coffin. i remember the loud sobs from people i didn’t know. i reply great grandma sitting next to me shaking just like me and saying “aye gordo why so soon mijo” and it was over.

they all came to my grandmas and spent the day together. drinking. having fun. and i sat in my room. i didn’t have a real room- i had a corner with a curtain dividing it from the space. everyone singing and dancing.. everyone happy.. and i thought “maybe i can cry now” and it didn’t come. i didn’t cry about losing my dad until i went back to work. i was so ready. i started strong and halfway through...a coworker talked about her dad. how he calls her princess.. she’s 50... and i smiled and said “mine calls me all sorts of names but my favorite is squeeze” my dad called my angel baby and i was in love with it for forever until a boy ruined that for me. he called me baby cakes. chunkers. mac to his cheese my dad called me all sorts of names.. Zoe Jane... izz. goober.. luna.. his star.. his flower.. i along side me sister was his world.. and i loved it.. he’d sing to me if i was sad and i took that for granted. he gave me all the great qualities to be a good adult. a good person. and i took it all for granted. she asked me all sorts of questions about him. if he had tattoos. what he liked to do in his free time... i never realized but all those answers were right on the surface because i memorized him. he had 11 tattoos. he liked to fish and paint and garden in his free time. he liked rock music but could enjoy literally anything as long as it made him feel something. he liked to read and he wouldn’t turn down girly pre teen books either. he liked being alive.. and when i told her these things she looked at me and asked why i was crying... and i wiped my tears and laughed and said “that’s a health code violation” and walked away... i had to take a break after that. they weren’t allowed to talk about dads after that for months. i wasn’t sensitive to it.. i would just talk about my dad like he was alive and it made them worry for me... one day i turned in my two weeks and said goodbye to them and i felt really sad because outside of my family- these were the only people to care about me.. and my loss. they supported me and prayed with and for me.. they helped me heal.. when all my “friends” abandoned me. i was incredibly sad to leave.

I think about that year so much.. how all my dad wanted me to do was make amends with everyone in my life and i couldn’t. i couldn’t sit there and say sorry or admit the hurt i was going through.. i was too stubborn.

I still sit in my car and wonder what it’d be like to see you drive it.. or to see you be a passenger again in the car while holding a beer. Would you listen to olivia rodrigo with me..? would we be okay..? I hate your birthday so much because it’s so fucking heavy.. your death date.. it’s so heavy and i get so angry.. why is everything so fucking heavy.. I can’t even explain the lengths my heart have gone through to attempt at healing. It’s so horrible and lonely.. i want to scream so loud now.. I’m 21.. i want to scream so loudly that my voice is heard over the corners of the game you and they hear the anguish i’m in. I want someone to take the pain away already. I want someone to see me... to really see me and the hurt in my heart and tell me i’ll be okay.. tell me it’ll get better but it never stops hurting. it’ll never stop hurting.. i’m so ANGRY AT THE WORLD FOR TAKING YOU AWAY FROM ME! i’m so angry.. i’m so angry that i’m hurting so much..

i want to scream so loud that someone learns the language of it and screams with me.. i hate you.. i hate you because you left me.. i need you everyday and it’s fucking agony and i only use swear words to enhance the things i have to say because if i’m honest.. i won’t be able to comply what i feel in basic words.

i’ve cried more about you at 21 than i ever did at 18 and i’m so sorry.. you deserve a more feeling daughter and i denied you.. i denied you all my life..

i decided to get your handwriting tattooed on me. i don’t care about the risk of losing grandmas love or approval.. i don’t care about the risks anymore.. i just want to feel again.

i hate what an unfeeling bitch i’ve become to some people.. i hate how over loving i am for others.

i’ll never be satisfied with myself.. because i can’t hear you telling me what’s wrong with me anymore.

#personal #my family #my dad #i just want it to end already #i want to be with you #in the dirt

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thelittlesttimelord · 5 years

Text

The Littlest Timelord: The Death of the Doctor Chapter 3

TITLE: The Littlest Timelord: The Death of the Doctor Chapter 3 PAIRING: No Pairing RATING: T CHAPTER: 3/? SUMMARY: The Doctor’s death is looming on the horizon and Elise is growing every day. What the Doctor doesn’t know is that he has 200 years to teach Elise all he knows. Amy, Rory, and River let Elise in on their secret, because River knows she will keep it. What will Elise do when he’s gone?

[A/N - I wrote several chapters today, so we’re looking good right now. I would have posted this earlier, but my internet has been shit since this whole Coronavirus thing started happening. I’ve written up to halfway through “The Impossible Astronaut”.]

Kazran and Elise were kneeling next to the stunned shark as the Doctor lamented about his screwdriver.

“What's the big fishy done to you? Swallowed half of you, that's what. Half a screwdriver, what use is that? Bad, big fishy.”

“Doctor? I think she's dying,” Kazran said.

The Doctor soniced her with the good half of his screwdriver. “Half my screwdriver's still inside, but yeah, I think so. I doubt they can survive long outside the cloud belt. Just quick raiding trips on a foggy night.” The Doctor looked at Kazran, who had tears on his cheeks.

“Can't we get it back up there? We were just going to stun it. I didn't want to kill it.”

“She was trying to eat you.”

“She was hungry.”

Elise put her small hand on the Doctor’s arm and looked at him with her big blue eyes. He could tell that like Kazran, she was about to start crying. “Can’t you save her? Please?”

The Doctor sighed. “I'm sorry, Kazran, Elise. I can't save her. I could take her back up there, but she'd never survive the trip. We need a fully functioning life-support.”

“You mean like an icebox? Okay.”

Kazran, the Doctor, and Elise ran down into the living room, where the Doctor spotted a Christmas tree.

He ran over to it, looking at all the decorations. “Ooo, a tree! Look at the tree!”

Kazran grabbed a lamp and they continued downstairs until they came to a cryovault.

“What is this?” the Doctor asked.

“The surplus population. That's what my Dad calls it.” Kazran told him.

They tried opening the door, but nothing happened.

“Oh, it's not turning. Oh, why won't it turn? We’re running out of time,” Kazran said.

The Doctor walked over to a keypad. “Ah, what's the number?”

“I don't know.”

The Doctor started typing random numbers and then tried the door again. “This place is full of alarms. It's not just the door. I need the number! I need the number!”

“I'm not allowed to know until I'm older!”

The Doctor backed away from the door. “Stay here.” He turned and started to run back up the stairs.

“Dad!” Elise yelled.

“I’ll be right back!”

A few minutes later, the TARDIS appeared and the Doctor ran out. “Seven two five eight. Seven two five eight.”

Kazran typed in the number and the Doctor opened the door.

They entered the cryovault.

Fish swam in the fog surrounding their feet.

“Ah, there's fish down here, too,” the Doctor said.

“Yeah, but only tiny ones. The house is built on a fog lake, that's how Dad freezes the people,” Kazran told them as they walked down the corridor, “They're all full, but we could borrow one. Yeah, this one.”

The Doctor and Elise walked up to it.

“Hello again,” the Doctor said, spotting the familiar blonde.

“You know her?” Kazran asked.

“Why her? Important, is she?”

“She won't mind. She loves the fish.” Kazran hit a couple of buttons on the side and a recording started playing.

“My name is Abigail Pettigrew, and I'm very grateful for Mr. Sardick's kindness. My father…”

“She starts to talk about the fish in a minute,” Kazran said. Kazran and Elise watched the recording as the Doctor continued down the corridor.

“But I would not allow it. I could not have chosen this path were it not for the compassion and generosity of the great philanthropist and patron of the poor, Mr. Elliot Sardick. But I'm also surrounded by the fish, the beautiful, iridescent, magical fish.”

“Why are these people here?” the Doctor asked.

“…they dash beneath the light as they dart through the fog.”

“What's all this for?”

“My dad lends money. He always takes a family member as, he calls it security,” Kazran said.

“That’s horrible. To have someone taken from you like that,” Elise said.

“Hard man to love, your dad,” the Doctor told him, “But I suppose you know that.”

“…Nature. I am not alone, and I am at peace.”

The recording of Abigail stopped.

The Doctor’s screwdriver started to make the sound it used to attract the fish earlier.

“What's wrong?” Kazran asked.

“Just my half a screwdriver trying to repair itself. It's signaling the other half.”

Matching bleeping sounds started to get closer to them.

“The other half's inside the shark…” Kazran said.

“Yeah? Sounds like she's woken up. Okay, so it's homing on the screwdriver,” the Doctor said.

The shark appeared in front of them.

“Run!” Elise yelled.

The three of them took off in opposite directions.

Elise hid behind a couple of chambers until she heard singing.

“In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan. Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone. Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow. In the bleak midwinter long ago.”

Elise came out of her hiding place and followed the sound of the singing until she came across Abigail.

The shark was lying at her feet as she sang.

Elise carefully walked around the shark and joined her father and Kazran.

“It's not really the singing, of course,” the Doctor said.

“Yes, it is,” Kazran argued.

“Nah.”

“The fish love the singing. It's true.”

“Nah. The notes resonate in the ice crystals, causing a delta wave pattern in the fog.” The Doctor slapped his neck. “Ow. A fish bit me.”

“Shut up, then.”

“Heaven and earth shall flee away…”

“Of course. That's how the machine controls the cloud belt. The clouds are ice crystals. If you vibrate the crystals at exactly the right frequency, you could align them into…” The Doctor slapped his neck again. “Ow! Why do they keep biting me?”

“Look, the fish like the singing, okay? Now shut up,” Kazran told him.

“Okay!”

“In the bleak midwinter, falling down before, the ox and ass and camel which adore.”

Elise closed her eyes, listening to the song. She vaguely remembered her mother singing her to sleep, but the memory quickly morphed into being held by the Doctor after the crash of the Byzantium. Elise took the Doctor’s hand in her own and set her head on his arm.

Once Abigail had finished her song, they quickly got the shark into the cryochamber.

“Everyone into the TARDIS!” the Doctor told them.

Kazran opened the doors and he and Abigail stood there in the doorway starstruck. “It’s bigger on the inside!” Kazran said.

“Yeah, it's the color. Really knocks the walls back,” the Doctor told him, “Shark in a box, to go.”

They all piled into the TARDIS and the Doctor ran up to the console, putting them in flight.

“This is amazing,” Abigail said.

“Nah, this is transport. I keep amazing out here,” the Doctor said. He ran over to the doors and opened them.

They were hovering in the clouds. Shoals of fish swam around them.

“Come on, then. Let's get this shark out.” The Doctor typed in the code and the cryochamber opened, allowing the shark to fly out into the clouds.

Kazran took a picture of Abigail as she stared out at the fish.

The Doctor closed the cryochamber, seeing a dial on the front. “Abigail, this number. What does it mean?”

“It pertains to me, sir, not the fish.”

“Yeah, but how?”

“You are a doctor, you say? Are you one of mine?”

“Do you need a doctor?”

Something on the console dinged.

“Ah. Sorry. Time's up, kids,” the Doctor told them, running up to the platform.

“Why?” Kazran asked.

“It's nearly Christmas Day!”

They went back to the cryovault and Abigail stepped back into her cryochamber. “If you should ever wish to visit again…” she said.

“Well, you know, if we’re ever in the neighborhood,” the Doctor told her.

“They come every Christmas Eve,” Kazran said.

“What?”

“Yeah, they do. Every time. They promise.”

“No, we don't.”

Kazran shut Abigail’s cryochamber.

Elise and the Doctor ran back to the TARDIS to hop to the next Christmas Eve.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

This continued for several Christmas Eve’s until Kazran became a teenager.

“Merry Christmas!” Kazran, the Doctor, and Elise said as the cryochamber door swung open.

“Kazran...” Abigail said, looking him up and down.

They went back to the TARDIS.

“You've grown,” Abigail told him.

“Yes.”

“And now you're blushing.”

“I'm sorry.”

“That's okay.”

“So, Doctor, where this time?”

“Pick a Christmas Eve. I've got them all right here,” the Doctor told him.

“Might I make a request?” Abigail asked.

“Of course.”

“This one.”

Abigail gave the Doctor an address and they landed outside a small home. Abigail stood by the window, while the Doctor, Elise, and Kazran stood a little ways away from her.

“Who are they?” Kazran asked.

“Her family. The lady's her sister. Elise and I met her once, when she was older,” the Doctor told him.

“Abigail's crying.”

“Yes.”

“When girls are crying, are you supposed to talk to them?”

“I have absolutely no idea. Normally when Elise is crying, I sing to her.”

Kazran walked over to Abigail, while the Doctor and Elise walked up the front door.

They went inside and explained what was going on before the Doctor waked over to the closed curtains and opened them. “Come in,” he told Kazran and Abigail.

The two of them came inside.

Elise admired the Christmas decorations. Her favorite things were the tinsel and the Christmas lights. They were so bright and shiny and made her feel happy.

Abigail’s sister suddenly stood up and said, “Tomorrow's Christmas dinner is cancelled, as my sister refuses to attend.”

“Isabella…” Abigail said.

“Instead, we'll have it tonight.”

The table was loaded down with food and the Doctor placed a paper crown on Elise’s head, before they did Christmas crackers. As they were eating dinner, Elise turned to the Doctor. “Daddy?”

“Yes sweetheart.”

“Can we have Christmas like this every year? With Rory, Amy, and River?”

The Doctor gave her a soft smile and kissed her on the forehead. “Whatever you want, Ellie.”

Eventually it was time for Abigail to return to her cryovault. “Best Christmas Eve ever,” she said.

“Ah. Till the next one,” the Doctor said.

“I look forward to it. Now I'd like to say good night to Kazran.”

“Of course, yes.”

The four of them stood there awkwardly.

“Well, on you go.”

Kazran gave the Doctor a look.

“Oh. Oh. Yes. Right. Sorry. We'll, er, we'll go, then. Good night. Good luck. Night. Good night.” The Doctor backed into a cryochamber, causing Elise to roll her eyes. “Sorry.”

The Doctor and Elise started to make their way back to the TARDIS and Kazran ran after them.

“Doctor. I, er, I think she's going to kiss me,” he said.

“Yeah, I think you're right.”

“I've never kissed anyone before. What do I do?”

The Doctor put his arm around Kazran’s shoulders. “Well, try and be all nervous and rubbish and a bit shaky.”

“Why?”

“Because you're going to be like that anyway. Might as well make it part of the plan, then it'll feel on purpose. Off you go, then.” The Doctor gave Kazran a nudge toward Abigail.

“What, now? I kiss her now?”

“Kazran, trust me. It's this or go to your room and design a new kind of screwdriver. Don't make my mistakes. Now, go.”

Even though Elise one day hoped she’d find someone who loved her, she still thought kissing was gross.

#eleventh doctor #eleventh doctor imagines #eleventh doctor fanfiction #doctor who #Doctor Who fanfiction #doctor who imagine #a christmas carol #Kazran Sardick

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bagels-and-seagulls · 5 years

Note

can we get some davenzi angst

how about some angst and a future fic? bc it’s all i can think of right now

David dialed Matteo while he was cleaning off the counter. He hadn’t made anything super fantastic for dinner, just rice and vegetables, since it was all he really could cook without Matteo or Laura watching over his shoulder to make sure he didn’t screw anything up, but somehow Matilda and him still managed to get what looked like half the box on the floor and all over the counter. The phone rang two times where it was in between his shoulder and his ear before it connected with a shriek on the other side.

“Daddy!” Sofia squealed, and David had to quickly take the phone away from his ear in fear of permanent hearing loss in his right ear. His daughter had always managed to hit decibels he never thought possible. He tried to crack his neck.

“Hey, sweetie. How are you?” He asked and leaned back against he counter, crossing his ankles.

“Good! We’re having so much fun, Daddy! We went to this museum thing, and Papa showed us all of this old stuff. That wasn’t too fun, but then we went to the lake for Great-Grandma’s party, and that was, like, super fun! Great-Grandma gave us these little candies wrapped in wax paper and played with us until Grandpa told her to stop,” she rambled.

“Did you get to go swimming?” David asked as he started to pace around the kitchen.

“Nooooo,” she whined. “Grandpa said that that’s not a lake you’re supposed to swim in, but when he wasn’t looking, Papa let us dip our toes in. So you’re not supposed to tell him that.”

“I won’t tell,” David laughed.

“Micha, stop poking meeee. I’m talking to Daddy,” Sofia said loudly, and David pulled the phone away from his ear again, already forgetting his mistake from last time.

“Does Michael want to talk to me?” David asked.

“He says yes.”

“You can put it on speaker. Get Papa to do it.”

There was some shuffling and a couple of low murmurs that he couldn’t really hear, before he heard his son go, “Daddy!” very similar to the way his sister had done a minute before. At least this time, someone was holding the phone away from their mouths, so it was bearable.

“Hey, pumpkin,” David greeted and couldn’t but help to smile. He didn’t realize how much he missed them until he was putting Matilda to bed and walking down the quiet and empty house, wondering when everyone was coming back. Whatever the answer was, he knew it was going to be too long. “Sofia was just telling me what you did today.”

“Oh! We went to go look at some statues that are supposed to be really important, and it was super cool because they were huge and, like, so detailed and stuff. And then we went to meet all the cousins with Papa and Grandpa at the lake, and that was cool, too. Great-Grandma was really nice and told stories to Papa and then Papa told us,” Michael rambled off a similar story.

“Did you like all the cousins?” David asked, pushing his toe into the ground. He had been worried about this trip since Matteo brought it up, a family reunion in Italy for his grandmother’s birthday. David didn’t know if going was too good of an idea. Matteo hadn’t gotten along with that side of the family for a while, longer than he probably understood. His father hasn’t even come up to visit them since Matilda was born, not that David bothered too much. He was a cold man, Matteo’s father. But David knew how important Matteo’s grandmother was to him, and he knew that he would be crushed to not see her. And he also knew that she had been hounding him about meeting her great-grandchildren.

“I mean, I guess. They couldn’t understand us,” Michael said, and David imagined that he was shrugging. It was better than nothing, David supposed.

“They kept saying the same thing over and over again,” Sofia added.

“What’d they say?” David asked, not really believing that.

“I don’t speak Italian, Daddy,” Sofia whined. “You know that.”

“Then how do you know they were saying the same thing?” David teased.

“Yeah,” Michael added, and David just shook his head, trying to hold back a little laugh.

“Time for bed,” David heard a little muffled. Matteo must have been on the other side of the room. He sounded just far enough away for David to get a taste, but not too clearly to satisfy, like a dream almost.

“Papaaaa,” Michael drug out.

“We just started talking to Daddy,” Sofia said, most likely with a pout.

“Yeah,” Michael repeated.

He heard a couple sounds, and David started wiping a towel over the counter just for something to do while he was waiting to see how this played out. He already knew who was going to win, but he was still interested. “We can call him again in the morning, but it’s time for bed now.”

There was some vague whining noises where he’s sure the twins were pulling off the best puppy dog eyes that haven’t worked since they were toddlers before Matteo said, “None of that. Off you two go.” There was some more muffling. “I’ll be right back,” Matteo said, and it sounded like he wasn’t on speaker anymore.

“Alright,” David said with a little nod, not that Matteo could see it.

He waited for a minute or two while he was rearranging the papers on the fridge, some of Michael’s drawings, a picture of Sofia from her last gymnastics meet, one of Matilda’s school reports that she insisted they put up because it had a sticker of a ladybug on it, a picture of Matteo and David from their wedding day, looking sharp in complimentary suits and holding hands while both of them pretended like they weren’t crying.

“Hey,” he heard.

“Na?”

“Na,” Matteo sighed.

“How’d it go today? You went to a museum?” David asked.

“Yeah, an art thing, just to kill some time before meeting the family.”

“Was it fun?”

“It was alright,” Matteo said simply and didn’t elaborate, not like the kids. He sounded tired, David thought, and not the kind of tired he usually got corralling the twins by himself all day. That one David could tell right away, and he would usually laugh, and kiss Matteo’s nose, and tell him that at least they’ll be asleep by ten. No, he sounded like the tired that was down to the bones and then a little bit further, one that was saying a hundred different things at once and none of them good, the tired you couldn’t really get rid of with sleep.

“Everything okay?” David asked a little quietly.

“Yeah,” Matteo responded quickly. “Yeah,” he repeated a little smaller after a minute. “I just miss you. And Matilda.”

“We miss you, too. All you guys. The house is too quiet.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure everything’s okay?” David asked, not wanting to push, but not convinced that this was just a little thing like missing home.

“It’s just,” Matteo stopped himself, and David could hear the way he was swallowing something down. Something heavy sunk into his gut, and he sat down on the kitchen floor, knowing where this could be headed, and not liking it already. “I just don’t know why I bother trying,” Matteo said through his teeth, and David imagined him pulling at his hair, and scrubbing at his face, and trying to pretend like the world wasn’t getting to him even though it was and did and will forever.

“What happened, baby?” David took a deep breath to prepare himself. He already disliked most everything about Matteo’s father, knew it from the first time they were still kids and trying to figure life out, when they still had things like school to worry about and social status and how to pay for alcohol, and Matteo told him out on the balcony with a joint in his lips that his dad had run off without a second thought, and good riddance, too. Matteo didn’t need that prick. Not one bit, he said. Somehow David knew that he was going to really start hating him by the end of this conversation, if it was possible to hate him more than when Matteo called him to tell him that Matilda was coming home with them, swaddled in Matteo’s mama’s arms, and Matteo’s father told him he would call him back. And then didn’t.

“Just-” And Matteo cut himself off with a heaping breath, and David wished more than anything to be there right now, to hold his face in between his hands and tell him that he would protect him from the rest of the world if he would just let him, to squeeze him tight until all the sadness drifted out of him like smoke. He curled an arm around himself in consolation.

“They were so mean,” Matteo said with a sob. He sniffled, and David gripped onto the side of his shirt hard, his nails digging into his palm on the other side. “They were saying all these things behind my back, all of them, about my kids. My kids, David,” he heard Matteo sniffled hard. “And Sofia and Michael didn’t even know because how could they. They just wanted to play with the others. And they were just so cruel. To children. My children.”

“What did they say?” David asked through gritted teeth. He tipped his head back to push the crown of his skull into the cabinets behind him.

“That they didn’t look like me, weren’t ours. That they were going to frow up messed up. That they weren’t really family. That they were adopted by a couple of-” Matteo stopped. He sniffled again and then swallowed hard enough for David to hear. “And the kids were looking at Sofia and Michael and said that they didn’t want to play with them and just repeated back all the shit their parents were saying.”

David was mad as fire. No- madder than fire, he was a volcano ready to erupt, a pittbull with rabies and a t-bone on the mind who had been locked up a little too long for his own good, a tsunami that has been pulling back from the shore for hours now, wanting to see the sea floor to rise. He was ready to get in a car and drive all night and all day if he had to to go give these people a piece of his mind, tell them to fuck off, that they were ignorant bigots who had nothing better to do than pick on people who were blissfully unaware. With the sound of Matteo quietly crying to himself half a continent away, away from where David would comfort him and tell him he didn’t need those bastards anyways, and trying to pretend like everything was fine because the walls were thin and the kids could understand this conversation just fine, David finally figured out how mad you had to be to contemplate murder.

“What did your dad do?” He asked.

Matteo huffed a breath. “Nothing, just stood there.”

“I’m coming,” David said suddenly and picked himself off the floor, fully convinced to find his suitcase and start shoving his clothes into it, anything really, already thinking of how to pay back Laura for watching Matilda for the rest of the weekend.

“No, David. Don’t,” Matteo said quickly.

“I’m going to kill him,” he responded.

“It’s not worth it.”

“The fuck it isn’t!” David yelled and then pinched the bridge of his nose to remind himself that Matilda was sleeping. “They have not fucking right to talk about them that way, talk about us that way. If they have a problem, they should say it to my fucking face.”

“David,” Matteo chocked out. “I just want to come home.”

“Baby,” David said, calming down. “Just- get on the first train tomorrow, or a plane, or a bus. I don’t care. I’ll come pick you up if you want me to.”

“No, I don’t want the kids to think something’s wrong.”

“Something is wrong.”

“They don’t know that,” Matteo said. “You heard them. They had a blast.”

David sighed. “Then cut it short. Don’t come tomorrow, but the next day. Say Matilda got sick, or that something came up and I had to go out of town and you have to watch the kids.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll look for flights.”

Matteo sighed. “Okay.”

David scrubbed at his face. “I’m sorry this happened, sweetheart. You don’t deserve it.”

“Whatever,” Matteo mumbled. “Grandma loved them. Said they were her favorites.”

“Did she?” David asked, trying to see a bright side after his vision just went black and white.

“Yeah, right in front of my cousins. Said they were the cutest and most well behaved kids she’s ever seen. She asked for a picture of the family.”

#angst under the read more #i don't know why i have made matteo's family so awful #but i have #and there's no coming back from it #future fic #prompts #my writing #davenzi #davenzi fic #angst

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talltalesandbedtimestories · 4 years

Text

A View To A Winchester (Part 13)

Series Page

Summary: Julie’s starting a new life after divorce in a home with a very nice view.

A Dean X OFC story. I got this idea staring out the view of my home office window and thinking how nice it would be to have Dean Winchester to ogle.

Section Word Count: 5,200

Section Content: fluff, flirting,angst, R-rated language

~~~~~

The first time he had caught Julie staring into his backyard, almost three months ago, Van Halen’s “Hot for Teacher” blared in his head. He watched her from his kitchen window, careful to lean out of view so she wouldn’t see him. She was pretty, highlighted in the morning sunshine. Not very tall or short, average height in a pair of flats. He spotted the curves, hiding under dress pants and a cardigan, begging to be seen.

And after a couple weeks of the spying by the hot little librarian, well that was enough to get him to do some digging. Through his research, he found a textbook case of an American female born in the late twentieth century. Giulia Louisa Cuore. Julie to everyone else besides her mom and dad. Born in December of 1981 in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania to parents who emigrated from Italy.

The little family moved to Wilmington, Delaware when she was a baby. A brother tagged along for the ride four years later. She went to a Catholic elementary school and an all-girls Catholic high school. Dean choked on the beer he was gulping when he’d read that. She was a chubby, awkward kid and teenager, complete with glasses and braces. But damn if she didn’t get better with age as Dean poured through the Internet trail. College followed, nothing spectacular to note, but solid grades. No sports or extracurricular activities to speak of. She got a stable job and then, some years later, she got a ring on it. She became Julie Felton and was married for ten years. The only anomaly, before the divorce, was the lack of kids.

Her life sounded so easy, simple, normal on paper. He knew, of course, nothing was that easy, simple, or normal. But, Julie’s story might have been catalogued in the Women’s Fiction or Romance section of a bookstore. The series Chuck had penned about Dean and Sam’s life was cross-catalogued in Mythology, Horror, Sci-Fi, and Theology.

So, he had decided early on he was going to close the book on Julie Felton. Enjoy her from afar on occasion when he could. Peek at a few pages. Let her slowly put her life back together again and see the story play out from the view of his own backyard. He didn’t know how long she’d stay anyway. The quick separation he’d read about from Steve Felton, a Communications Director at the biggest hospital in upstate Delaware, and her even quicker house purchase during it all, could mean anything. Maybe she was rash, quick to act, like him. Maybe she’d be married in six months, moved out, and he’d never see that pretty face again.

But something told him, from all that he’d learned, that she was methodical and thought long and hard about the consequences her actions created. When she made a decision, he felt she’d follow it through. Another reason he didn’t introduce himself. He knew, could tell, she wanted to meet him. And the more he saw of her, the more he wanted to meet her. Maybe see what normal was like again. But, he was all kinds of trouble. What did Bobby used to say? Ten pounds of shit in a five pound bag.

And, then, when he knew the grass couldn’t wait to get mowed any longer, as Spring pushed the growth of his lawn into high gear, he strolled out to inspect it one morning and got ambushed by a sweet little Italian mother.

Now, not even two months later, after agreeing to mow a neighbor’s lawn, he was back at it. Staring at Julie and she was still none the wiser of his presence. The hospital machines beeped around her bed in the ICU room she’d been wheeled into a half hour ago. A nurse checked and noted the information on the screens.

Now who’s playing hide and seek, Jules?

“Giulia!” Brigida’s tiny frame stood in the doorway.

Another nurse appeared, flustered, behind her. “Ma’am, I’m sorry, we can only have one visitor in this room at a time.”

Dean stood up and walked over to Brigida. She snatched one of his large hands, her hazel eyes wide at the blood all over his shirt. “It’s okay.” He nodded at Brigida and then looked over to the nurse. “I’ll be outside.”

Dean could hear Julie’s mom call out to her again from where he stood in the hallway. From his vantage he saw Samuel and Wes standing in the waiting room at the far end of the corridor. He waved and trudged over to give them what little news he could. Their eyes bugged out even larger than Brigida’s at his appearance.

He knew exactly what was going on with Julie but couldn’t let on a damn thing. The only one who got an earful of the Jinn mythos, Clif notes version style, was Marty. Dean explained everything that had gone down in that afternoon. They used rope to create a tourniquet around Julie’s thigh to slow down the blood loss. Two squad cars and an ambulance showed up not long after. Dean watched the paramedics inspect Julie and move her onto a gurney. They loaded her with care into the back of the emergency vehicle. Marty made sure Dean went along for the ride. Red and blue lights flashed over the warehouse exterior wall and nearby field. They crossed paths with another ambulance on the way to the crime scene. That one would’ve been for Ina’s dead body.

“Are you alright, Dean?” Samuel asked, motioning to Dean’s shirt, after listening to the kidnapping tale.

“Oh, yeah. Not my blood. Or, Julie’s.” He wasn’t going to mention how much blood Julie had been drained of; Wes already looked queasy enough. “Thanks for bringing Brigida.”

“Of course.” Samuel stated. “So, she’s stable?”

“As stable as one can be when they’re unconscious.” Dean shrugged. He clocked a state trooper staring at him in the waiting room. The man in the head to toe khaki ensemble marched toward him in his brown boots. Marty told me I’d need to be prepared to go in for questioning as soon as things calmed down. “Listen, I’m probably going to have to head to the police station soon. Will you be able to stay?”

They nodded in unison. Dean turned at the tap on his shoulder. The trooper’s bushy mustache twitched as he spoke. “Dean Winchester?”

“That’d be me.”

“Officer Murray. Detective Martin Tullman wants me to escort you to the station for some routine questioning.”

There’s absolutely nothing routine about any of this. “Sure. But, I need to be able to get back here as soon as possible. Oh, and just one question for you.”

The officer tipped his hat and waited.

“Who’s driving me back to get my car?”

~~~~~

After the station and the ride back to get Baby, he had checked in with Wes and Samuel. They were still at the hospital with Brigida at almost midnight. There was no new news to report. Dean took the opportunity to race home and shower off the Jinn bits. He beat his record for the quickest clean and clothe and headed back.

When Dean arrived, he ordered Wes and Samuel to get themselves home. Brigida insisted that she would stay at the hospital all night, sleep in the waiting room, and that Dean should go home as well.

“There’s no way you’re staying here by yourself.” Dean shook his head. “Julie will kill me when she wakes up.”

Brigida offered a weary smile. They sat in the waiting room, now a lot less populated since visiting hours were over. A few other people and groups milled about like Brigida and Dean, hoping for some good news.

“Want me to get you something from the vending machine? I’m sure you haven’t eaten. Julie… she mentioned you’re on a lot of medication. The last thing she’d want is for you to get sick because you aren’t taking care of yourself with all this worry.”

“I took them. I can’t eat all that junk.” A wave of her hand dismissed the offer. “My sugar will go up. It’s already too high. I feel it.”

Dean frowned.

“You can take me back to Julie’s in a little while.” She clutched her purse to her chest. “I’ll get myself home in the morning for all my medicine and other things. Then, I’ll come back here.”

“Okay.” He knew better than to push any further. He clapped a hand on her forearm. “You just let me know when you’re ready to leave. And, I’ll take you back here in the morning.”

She tapped his hand on her arm. “I knew you were a good man.”

A tall, skinny man in grey jogging pants and a blue hoodie rushed up to Brigida. “How’s Julie?”

It took Dean a second to place him. He’d seen that face when he was snooping into Julie. But the pictures he’d seen of this man had a lot less wrinkles and a lot more hair.

“Steve?” Brigida’s face turned stern. “What are you doing here?”

“I got a call from the hospital a few hours ago, but I missed it. I’m still listed as an emergency contact.” Steve looked to Dean and then to his hand consoling Brigida. “How’s Julie?” he repeated.

Brigida choked back a ton of emotions, her face reddening.

Dean cleared his throat and spoke. “She’s unconscious. Doctor’s aren’t sure what’s wrong yet. They’ve run a bunch of tests. No brain trauma they can see.”

Steve scrunched his face up and snapped his head back. He looked like a disgruntled turtle. “Who are you?”

“Dean Winchester. I’m a neighbor of Julie’s.” He didn’t bother to offer his hand to shake.

“What happened?” Steve stared at Brigida again.

Dean rose and stepped in between Brigida and Steve. A small part of him took pride in the fact that he was taller than Julie’s ex. “Look, Steve. Brigida doesn’t have a whole lot in terms of details.” He lowered his voice. “I was the one that found Julie.”

Steve straightened his posture but still couldn’t make up much of the height difference. “What do you mean found her? Where?”

“You should probably reach out to a Detective Martin Tullman for the details. State Police. Troop 6. He may not be able to give them to you, though, being that you aren’t married to Julie anymore.”

The blue irises hid behind narrowing lids. “Who’d you say you were again?”

“Dean Winchester.”

Steve nodded his head. “Well, being that I’m the Communications Director at this hospital, I’m sure I can get all the information that I need.” He turned and headed for the nurses’ station.

“Just make sure it’s legal and you follow all that HIPPA crap,” Dean added, loud and clear, so everyone could hear. “Lawsuits are a bitch.”

Steve stopped his advance, cocked his head to Dean and Brigida, and faked a painful smile. “I’d appreciate it if you’d keep me apprised of Julie’s condition, Mom.” He stormed off.

Brigida scoffed and sniffled back some tears. “Mom. He hardly ever called me that when they were married.” She groaned at the sound of her knees creaking when she got up. “I’m going to go say good night to Giulia.”

“Brigida, I don’t think they’ll…”

Another hand wave. “Let them try and stop me. Coming?”

“I-I don’t…”

A hand wrapped in the crook of his elbow. “Then, just come along and get me down this hallway.” The tired nurse at the station acknowledged and watched them pass by with a smile. “Remind me to bring that one some food. She needs to eat more.” Brigida whispered to Dean. He chuckled.

Julie’s room was dark. A shaft of hallway light spilled onto the speckled tile floor. Their shadows broke into the room before they stepped inside. A painful ache stabbed Dean in the chest. Julie was awash in artificial blue light radiating from the machines monitoring her condition. A bunch of wires and tubes were strapped to her lifeless frame, including one intubating her.

Brigida leaned over the edge of her daughter’s hospital bed. Her hand stretched to reach Julie’s forehead. She closed her hands and started reciting something in Italian. Her fingers made small gestures of the cross over and over the skin while she continued the incantation. She rubbed the forehead gently when she was done. Something on Dean’s face must have required an explanation, because she stated, “In case she was cursed with Malocchio.”

“Cursed with what?”

“Evil eye. That was a prayer I learned when I was little to help get rid of it.”

Dean walked over to the other side of the bed. “You believe in curses, Brigida?”

Brigida nodded. “There’s a lot I believe in that Giulia thinks is crazy. Curses, ghosts, possession. I saw many things growing up in Italy that no one could explain.” She kissed her own fingers and then placed them on Julie’s forehead. “I just don’t want her in more pain than she already is. Can’t hurt.”

Dean smiled. “No. Can’t hurt.”

“I’m gonna go find out what kind of pasta that nurse likes and make sure she’ll be here tomorrow.” Brigida headed toward the exit. “Say goodnight.” She smiled and left Dean alone in the room with Julie.

Dean sighed and stared at Julie. “Don’t believe in the supernatural, huh? Gonna make for quite an awkward explanation about the family business.” He bent down, grabbed her hand, and whispered. “If you can hear me, Julie, I need you to listen. You’re dreaming right now. However great it is, it’s just a dream. And, you need to wake up. So, I’m going to do what I can on this side in the land of the living. But you can end it, too.” He swallowed. “If you kill yourself in the dream, you’ll wake up. But even more important… if you die any other way, not by your own hands… you won’t wake up. Ever again.” Dean pursed his lips together for a brief moment. “So, you need to be careful, okay? Until I can fix it or you beat me to it.”

He leaned in and brushed his lips against her forehead. Then, he said a silent prayer and kissed her forehead one more time. “Can’t hurt.”

~~~~~

“What are you up to, Winchester?” Julie called across the yard, over to Dean, her hands clutching the top of the chain link fence. The property divider prevented her from sprinting through the grass and into those arms of his.

He dropped a bucket by one of Baby’s dirty rims and headed to the shed. “What’s it look like I’m doing?” He smirked in her direction.

She squinted and identified some cleaning products peeking out of the top of the bucket. She was too damn far away from the man. It wasn’t fair. It’s not like she could hop a fence as easy as he could.

He emerged from the shed with a water hose wrapped in a neat bundle and draped over a shoulder. “Wanna help?”

Her internal temperature rose about ten degrees. The bright blue sunny day with not a cloud in the sky had little to do with it. That thin white, v-neck t-shirt clinging to Dean accounted for three degrees. The curve of his ass, filling out his faded jeans as he bent down to connect the house to the spigot ticked up another two degrees. But, it was the full-watt smile that he beamed up at her when he rose, along with a wipe of his wet hand along one denim clad ass cheek that made up the other five.

He rubbed his hands together and strolled over to meet her on the fence line. His cool to the touch, damp palm rested on her fingers. He kissed her lips, not caring who was looking, out in the open. But Julie felt like it was only him and her in the whole entire world, right then and there. He licked his lips when he was done. “She’s gotten all kinds of filthy.”

She grinned. “Still talking about the car?”

He nipped at her top lip. “Come on, babe.” He smirked. “I wanna get you all wet.”

“I don’t know.” She sighed, her inner walls clenching at Dean’s naughty gaze and innuendo. “Washing Baby? That’s quite a big step in our relationship. What if I scratch her?”

“I won’t let you handle any tools that can do any damage. Just a sudsy wet sponge.” He kissed her forehead. “Can’t hurt.”

“Alright.”

He walked backwards and swung out an arm. “Get on over here, then.”

Julie frowned and searched her yard. She lifted a finger, an idea forming. One wicker chair was pulled to the fence. She stepped onto it, chair legs shaking on the uneven ground, and took a deep breath. The top of the fence pressed into her torso. “I have no athletic coordination, you know.”

“Give yourself a good hop up and over. Let your feet hit the ground first and not your face.” He chuckled. His hands were on his hips, bow legs flared out, as he watched and waited in a superhero stance. All he needed was a cape.

“Okay. Here goes nothing.” Julie jumped.

~~~~~

Dean twirled her around from the stove and the pot of boiling pasta that garnered her attention. He held her in a tight vice grip and stared into her eyes. She held onto the wet, wooden spoon wedged between their bodies. His eyes shifted to a mossy green shade. “Gotcha.” He whispered.

“Never have truer words been spoken.” Julie smiled. She shimmied her hands up and out to rest her forearms atop broad shoulders. The spoon swayed behind his back. “How do you like your spaghetti? Al dente or mushy?”

“Whatever gives me more time to do this.” He bent down and opened her lips with a parting of his own. His tongue delved inside, tasting her, making her moan at the strength and thoroughness of that particular muscle. Hands splayed over her back, pushing her close.

She was panting and out of breath when he finally pulled his mouth away. His eyes widened at the scene behind her. “Shit!”

The overflow of bubbling water seared and sizzled against the side of the pot and into the burner’s flames. “Shit!” She repeated and rotated in his arms to turn off the gas. “You made me lose all track of time.” An attempt to calm the roaring water with a swish of the spoon did little. When the boil subsided, she fished out a long strand and bit into it. “Well, at least they’re not ruined.”

Dean’s hands rested on her hips, leaning into her backside. He contorted his tall frame and rested his chin on her right shoulder. “I’ll be the judge.” His jaw moved and pressed into her skin, unhinged, open, and waiting. She pulled out another bit of pasta and dangled it over his lips. He captured and slurped the entire length in a second. Droplets of pasta water hit her cheeks. “Yep, it’s good.”

A quick pull of potholders over her hands readied for dumping pasta into the colander. “You are not allowed in the kitchen when I’m cooking. Too much of a distraction.” She bumped her ass into his thighs. “Move.” She giggled.

He sighed and leaned back, stepping toward the counter. “Fine.” Water poured into the sink and drowned out his other comment.

“What?” she turned and asked.

“I said I couldn’t help it. I’m hungry.” He raised an eyebrow.

She shook her head and felt the pasta steam redden her face. “You’re always hungry.”

He shrugged, not putting up an argument. “You done?”

Julie’s mouth opened. She placed the empty pot back on the stove. Her potholder clad hands fisted and rested on her hips. “I’m sorry, am I not moving fast enough for you?”

“Nope.” He bent down and rushed her frame. Before she could react, he’d lifted her up and draped her over his shoulder.

She gasped, tossed the potholders and tried to hold onto his back. “Dean!”

He smacked her ass and chuckled. His arms wrapped over her legs. One hand wedged between her thighs and slipped up along the heat of her pulsing mound. He carried her out of the kitchen and headed for the living room. An unceremonious dump onto the couch cushions had her staring up at him. His eyes lit up and he smirked. “I said I was hungry.”

~~~~~

Dean chomped into the massive takeout burger. Leaning over his coffee table, he devoured his late lunch. Sam grimaced at him from the laptop screen sharing space on the table.

“That stuff is going to kill you, Dean.”

“We’ve been through this, Sammy. If bacon’s what kills me, I win.” A dribble of secret sauce trickled down his chin and onto the food wrappers protecting the tabletop. He spoke through the chews. “So, back to the antidote…”

Sam shook his head. “Yeah. I speedy shipped the stuff to you. According to my tracking number, you should get it tonight. Just mix it according to the directions I’ll email over. Right. Now.”

Dean’s computer dinged. He slurped his soda. “Injection through the heart? Really has to be through the heart?”

“It’s like a shot of adrenaline.”

Dean frowned after another mouthful of beef and bacon.

“Julie’s still the same?”

He sighed. A couple crumbs hit the screen.

“Did you really just spit your food at me?”

Dean swallowed and used his sleeve to wipe the laptop clean. “Shut up. Yes, she’s still the same. I left Brigida at the hospital about an hour ago. No improvement, but nothing worse either. The doctor says her heartbeat gets a bit high every once in a while and there’s some spike in brain activity. She’s responding to some sort of stimulation.” He remembered the wistful smile on Julie’s face that day.

“That’s good.” Sam chuckled. “Well, maybe when she wakes up, she’ll reevaluate what she finds attractive about you in the first place and come to her senses.” Sam cleared his throat. “It was a joke, Dean.”

“Not that far off, though.”

“What do you mean?”

“Winchester curse.”

“Geez, not that again.”

“You think it’s a coincidence that this poor woman, with no previous supernatural experiences or run-ins, happens to get kidnapped by a Jinn just a couple months after meeting me?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Activity has been sporadic at best.” Dean shook his head. “I put her in danger by breathing in her general direction.”

“Did you ever think that maybe she’s lucky?”

“Lucky?” Dean scoffed, mindful to direct his response away from Sam this time.

“She was lucky that you were around when this happened. You saved her, dude. No matter what, there was nothing intentional on your part to put her in danger.” Sam picked up his phone, blasting an alarm. “Look, I’ve got to get ready to head to class. Stop feeling sorry for yourself and get the work done when the supplies make it to you. Call me if you need help with the instructions. I know reading’s not your specialty.”

“Alright, alright.” Dean threw him a sarcastic smile.

“Later.”

~~~~~

Baby’s passenger side door squeaked. Julie’s sandals met the gravel and the cool summer air tickled over her exposed arms. Her neck craned upward, staring into the midnight blue sky lit up like a Christmas tree.

Dean shut the driver’s side door in unison with Julie on the other end. She looked over and saw him gazing up as well. “Nice.” He commented.

“See? I wasn’t kidding about the view.”

“Well, it’s not quite as great as Kansas at night.” Even in the dark the night sky illuminated the lookout point, one of many along Skyline Drive. Their road trip originated in Delaware late that morning and was now winding through the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia. Dean wandered around Baby’s hood to stand in front of Julie. Arms wrapped around her waist.

“East coast girl, east coast views.” She looked around the field. “Weird, though. I’ve never been to this spot at night and had it all to ourselves. Not another car or person checking out the sky.”

Dean nodded. “I reserved it just for us. I know a guy.”

Julie smirked and stared at his sassy grin, inches from his delicious lips. “You didn’t even know where we were going.”

He shrugged, leaning closer. “So, family trips here every summer, huh?”

“From when I was about eight up until 15. Joey and I arguing in the back seat of Dad’s Mustang. Mom in the passenger seat, yelling at Dad every time he whacked Joey in the back of the head for being a pain in the ass. Getting a bucket of crispy, fried chicken right before we started up Skyline.”

Dean kissed her. She tasted the salt and spices. “I like that tradition.” He mumbled and smiled. “We get to make a new one.”

Julie was about to ask what he meant when he hoisted her up by her waist and sat her ass on Baby’s hood. “Whoa. Isn’t this sacrilegious?”

“Nah.” He jogged back over to the other side and hopped up, joining her. “I did this alot, on the road.” She laid back and tried to get her footing on the slippery steel, bending her knees. Baby was still nice and warm from the drive. He laid down and pulled her toward him with an arm over her shoulders, letting her lean into his side for support. She was getting used to thinking of him as her rock. “Now,” he nodded up, “That’s a view.”

She kept staring at him. “Yes, it is.”

He rubbed her shoulder and kissed her forehead. His voice turned serious. “You’ve got to come back to us, now, Jules.”

“What?”

“It’s time.” His eyes gazed into hers. “This is probably going to hurt like hell for a few seconds.” She closed her eyes, enjoying the tips of his fingers gliding along her cheek.

“Dean, I don’t under…”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’ve got to.”

Something stabbed her in the heart and made her entire body seize for a second. Like a jackhammer, the pain vibrated everywhere and she ricocheted upright into a sitting position.

Her eyes jolted open and she gasped for air. Panic accompanied the pain and fear at whatever this thing was in her throat blocking her ability to breathe. Her fingers shot to her neck, coming into contact with a large tube instead of the expected skin. Investigating with touch, she realized it led up to her mouth. It was the thing lodged in her throat, along with smaller tubes in her nose. She tried to make sense of the white walls with the green horizontal stripe, the beeping, the monitors all around. And, then, she saw Dean.

Dean sprinted past the edge of her bed - the bed with rails like a crib and wires connected to various parts of her body - heading for the open doorway. “We need some help here! Now!” He bellowed.

Another rush of heat and pain knocked her onto her back. Blood pulsed wild and loud in her brain. Her eyes closed. She drifted away. Dean’s hand covered her forehead. “Hold on, sweetheart.”

~~~~~

“Kidnapped?” The question scraped out of Julie’s throat.

Dean watched her mind attempt to process the information. Tired and spent from the rude awakening hours earlier, Julie now sat upright in the hospital bed. The antidote had worked exactly as Sam said it would. Adrenaline straight to the heart. Brigida dashing out of the room with a weak bladder became Dean’s opportunity to administer his own version of health care.

He’d whispered and explained what he was about to do to an unconscious Julie. He apologized right before plunging the syringe into her chest cavity. The evidence got tossed into the hazardous waste receptacle as Julie sat straight up in bed, gasping and clawing at the intubation.

The three of them, Julie, Brigida, and Dean, now experienced a lull of medical activity and attention. Julie had gone through some more tests after waking and been wheeled away for an hour. The intubation had been removed. She had been rewired and looked less like a science experiment.

Brigida sat on Julie’s right. “No more talk about what happened. You need to try to eat something.”

Julie’s fingers ran over the bed sheets. Her brain is somewhere else.

Dean swayed from heel to toe, hands in his pockets, standing at the foot of the bed. “Want me to see if they can get you some more ice chips for that throat?”

Julie gazed up at Dean. But something was too far away and distant in her eyes for his liking. She shrugged.

“I’ll go and ask Natalie.” It was no surprise to Dean that Brigida was on a first name basis with the nurses on the floor after only a few days. She stood up and left the room, patting Dean on his elbow when she strolled past.

“Where did you find me?” Julie shifted in the bed and spoke again when they were alone. She winced and rested a hand on her chest. Right where I basically stabbed her.

“Brigida’s right, Julie. You probably don’t need to know all the details right…”

“Where?” She squeaked out the one word.

He sighed. “Abandoned warehouse.”

Her fingers pulled at the band at the base of her hairline and tugged the ponytail free. She scratched her scalp and fussed with her waves. “I was going to go to the gym for a quick workout that morning.” The slumped posture stiffened with a groan. An attempt was made to fix her hair, combing it back with shaking fingers. She relented and leaned back. Her eyes dropped to her lap as she continued. “I-I had talked to mom… before I left the house, I saw her at the edge of the driveway, walking up. I shouldn’t have offered to drive her to the shopping center. But, I was already going there, going to the gym...”

“Hey.” Dean hurried to her side. Hands gripped the bed rails. “Don’t go blaming yourself for anything that happened.” He bent down, tried to get his face in her line of sight. A shy flutter of lids hesitated, but her eyes eventually stared back. “None of this is your fault, Jules.”

Glazed eyes blinked away tears forming as Julie spoke. “Thank you…” her breath hitched, “for finding me.”

Dean’s hardened heart cracked at the lost and vulnerable quality in Julie’s voice. He offered an upturned palm. Her cold fingers crept into its hold. He squeezed, intent on warming her. “Kind of selfish on my part. We still have to finish that date, remember?”

The first smile he’d seen on her face in what felt like forever lined her lips. “Right now?”

He laughed. “I’ll give you some time to get right.”

“What’s wrong with how I look?” She rasped out a laugh. “How could you not want this?”

“Who says I don’t?” He shook his head in appreciation. “And, that six pack of cigs a day voice is hella sexy.” Dean turned serious. “When I mean get right…”

She nodded. “I know.”

“However long it takes.” He swallowed. “Can’t get rid of me that easy.”

Her lip twitched. “Promise?”

He smiled and squeezed her hand a little harder. “Promise.”

Part 14

Series Page

#dean winchester fanfiction #spn fanfic #dean x ofc #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst #spnfanficpond #spn fanfic series #supernatural fanfiction

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countryshitposts · 5 years

Text

you are still the sons, and he the father

here's a whopping six thousand word fic i've been working on for two weeks so read it you piece of shits

Imsi and Jeguk try finding out why their father is absent from their lives everyday. The truth horrifies them both.

tw for: homophobia

It was a quiet and uneventful day in the Korean home. Chosen was humming to herself as she makes herself breakfast, having skipped out earlier due to errands in the market. She hears Daehan Jeguk and Imsi talking, but decides not to bother them.

"It is quite unnatural that father would disappear every now and then", Jeguk muses as he looks at the bright sun shining down on them, making the flowers move to its direction.

"How long has his strange disappearances been going on?", Imsi asks, looking at Chosen eating her food.

Jeguk thinks for a moment, "Ever since I have come here, he has been disappearing every now and then. There are slight differences in his appearance once he comes home though; wrinkled clothes, messy hair, and a red blush on his cheeks."

Imsi snorts, "I bet he visits brothels at times."

Jeguk chuckles, "Definitely. Although I have some suspicions on the 'brothel' subject."

"Why is that?"

Jeguk takes out a slip of parchment from his sleeves, stained, yet some characters readable. Imsi leans in to look at the parchment, and finds out that it is written in Chinese. Imsi raises a brow, trying to muster the characters and translate it. It is from a man named Ming, who happens to be the last dynasty before Qing had come along.

"It looks to be a letter", Jeguk says, "from a Chinese man."

Imsi rolls his eyes. "No shit Sherlock."

"Whenever father receives his letter", Jeguk continues, ignoring Imsi's statement, "he lights up and dresses himself up."

"Perhaps this man is one of his friends who encourages him to visit brothels?"

"Yes but-", Jeguk narrows his eyes, suspicious as he investigates the letter more, "-this man is using very flattering words in Chinese, too flattering for a friend."

"Let me see", Imsi says as he takes the letter from Jeguk, to inspect it full-heartedly. There were some very, very inappropriate innuendos and statements, but this man talks about how he loves their father with all their might. Imsi furrows a brow, as he looks at Jeguk with eyes wide of realization. "I think I already know why father disappears every so often."

"Yes? And what do we do about it?"

"I'll tell you later."

That night, their father, Joseon, comes back with a delighted expression on his face, covering his neck with his clothing. He did not eat with the rest of his family, claiming he has 'already eaten'. Imsi and Jeguk look towards the back of their father as he ascends towards the stairs.

Imsi leans in towards Jeguk, who was beside Chosen, "He has a lover. A male one."

"Please, this man might just be very affectionate, and our father would never dare cheat on our mother." Jeguk spoonfeeds Chosen, and she smiles in return. Imsi goes back towards his seat and resists the urge to gag at the couple in front of him.

"We'll see about that", Imsi whispers to himself, continuing to eat, trying to ignore the couple activng lovey-dovey in front of him.

Imsi and Jeguk settle out a plan: if their father receives another letter and disappears off into the floods of ancient men and women, they follow after him. They just want to see if their theories were right, and feel like Joseon has been keeping this secret long enough; it needs to be shed to the public light.

Joseon was humming a Chinese melody when Imsi first encounters him. Imsi was just standing by the front lawn, admiring the beautiful flowers littered along the way and appreciating its beauty, when a mailman had scared the life out of him. He says it is for his father, and Imsi takes it from his hands. He narrows his eyes as he carefully unravels it, hoping that once he gives it to Joseon he wouldn't notice the differences.

Imsi furrows his brow as he reads through the letter. This man, just like from the previous letters, has been using very flattering words and sexual innuendos, much to Imsi's embarrassment and dismay. Despite all this, he can feel disgust churn inside of him as he realizes that this man - Ming, he reminds himself - is seemingly seducing their father with his words, and their foolsome of a father has agreed to be swayed into this... atrocity. A crime. Imsi tries not to crumple the paper, but he has the urge to do it, to go to Ming's home and hurt him, and shout at his father for being a sodomite.

The letter ends with another statement of love and care, telling Joseon to meet him at the palace. Imsi carefully puts the letter back to his place, plasters on a straight face despite his disgust and anger, and walks towards Joseon. He can't even unsee his father, the man who had taught him morals and philosophy in his life, a homosexual. A disgusting, grieving homosexual.

"Father, someone has given me this letter. Says it's for you." Imsi tries to look at his father's eyes, but breaks eye contact with him after a few seconds. No matter how much he tries, he cannot look at him in the eye.

"Oh, thank you son", Joseon says as he takes the letter out of Imsi's hand, unfolding it to read its contents. To Imsi's disgust, his father's face starts to redden, his dark eyes shining brightly, rivalling the sun. Imsi's face contorts in disgust, and it deepens when Joseon chuckles and folds the letter, looking at his youngest son with a slight smile.

"Tell the others I am going away for a trip Imsi", Joseon says, holding up a hand to ruffle his hair, but Imsi steps backward, not wanting to be touched. "Ah, it seems you have grown out of my touches."

Imsi nods, playing along. "Honestly, it is quite embarrassing for me to be held like that father." He says with a fake smile.

Joseon laughs light-heartedly, as he goes inside to change. Imsi follows him back to the house, and leans on the table, trying not to listen to Jeguk and Chosen flirting. He elbows Jeguk after the couple laspes into a comfortable silence.

"We follow father", Imsi says, the word 'father' now foreign on his lips, as if this brand new secret he and Jeguk discovered made them think there was more to Joseon than just being their father. He was a sinful man. "We catch him with this 'Ming' person, and we'll see if he truly has a... male lover." Imsi shudders at those last words, while Jeguk purses his lips.

"Alright, we'll see if our current hypothesis is correct", Jeguk says.

"You mean my hypothesis?"

Jeguk gives him a lopsided smile. "I changed my mind of father having an overly clingy friend."

Once their father bid farewell to them, they start to follow him discreetly, letting him walk distant steps so they can keep up with him while maintaining their cover. Once Joseon reaches a beautiful looking palace with Chinese carved across the gates, did they realize that Ming was, say, royalty. Perhaps even richer than their family. This man must be quite important in Joseon and others' lives. After all, he did say something about how a person made his life special and exciting, they just didn't think of it that way.

They spot their father looking through the beautiful scenery of the Chinese' much, much better-looking garden, to the brothers' jealousy. It had fountains, a pond with a curved bridge, the waters clear and full of lilies. They silently walk over it, marvelling the scenario, before turning back to their task. Their task was to put an end to their father's crimes, once and for all. They silently follow Joseon into the palace, hide past the dragon throne where many of the old Chinese dynasties still live, until they reach a beautiful place, comparable to a paradise. It was just like the garden they've seen at front, but much more natural, comfortable, and nostalgic. They then spot Joseon walking towards a man - Ming, presumably - and a familiar woman snuggling up to a man. Perhaps that was her husband.

Imsi and Jeguk hide behind the hedges, trimmed just above their height, as they continue watching their father with narrowed eyes. Joseon was smiling, a blush forming on his cheeks, and the twins can't help but feel disgusted. How could their father abandon his virtues by devouring one's own gender? How could he abandon his masculinity?

Ming noticeably smiles as he sees Joseon nearing him, and the two embrace. Much to the twins' disgust and horror, the two share a kiss on the lips.

"You've joined us again, my Chaoxian", Ming says. Jeguk furrows his brows.

But father had hated that name Qing had always called him, he thinks to himself. But then he looks almost sad, like someone had called him that in a special, meaningful way.

"I'll always join you, even to the afterlife, Myeong", Joseon says softly.

Imsi had remembered seeing his father in tears one night, whispering the name 'Myeong' over and over again, hugging a small painting in his hands. He suddenly can't help but feel sick, remembering how he thought Joseon was crying over a loved one. He was crying over a loved one, but he didn't expect it to be like that. Not even his queens can console him of his old 'friend'.

"Dad, you have to taste the peaches that Ming has harvested recently in his garden", the girl, who was the only woman in the group exclaims, and her husband chuckles.

"I will", Joseon says, chuckling, sitting on Ming's lap, much to his observing sons' dismay.

Imsi and Jeguk look at each other, confuzzled at what they had just heard come out of the girl's mouth.

Father? Jeguk mouths to Imsi, and shrugs, feeling jealousy coming back to him, a conflicting emotional storm wishing to wreck his ship of happiness, like it always does for his whole life. He can feel a cloud of emotions churning inside of him, waiting to burst.

And it did, when he sees Joseon and Ming passionately making out. He angrily steps forward, wanting to shout at his father, but his brother beats him to it, having enough of this tomfoolery.

"Father." Jeguk's tone was full of anger, his face seething with rage. The girl and her husband look up at the newcomer, while Joseon and Ming quickly break apart. Imsi is very quick to follow, crossing his arms while standing beside his brother, both of them giving each other support.

"Jeguk? Imsi?" Joseon's tone was panicked, as he stands up from where he was sitting. "W-what are you doing here?"

"Checking up on you", Jeguk spits, "you've been disappearing from our home for so many years, we didn't think to care where you have gone."

"We let those years slide", Imsi replies, anger evident. "We let those years slide because we thought you were innocent and were attending meetings."

Ming stands up, clearly disliking the attitude his lover's sons were displaying. "And your father is innocent! How dare you talk to your father like that!"

"This is none of your business", Jeguk snipes, giving Ming a cold hard glare, "this is between me, my brother, and our father."

"Tell us, father", Imsi says, the last word full of poison and Joseon visibly flinches. "Do you feel satisfied of letting a man - a man! - touch you that way? Do you feel like you are comitting a crime, an atrocity? Because we certainly think you are!"

"And you dare replace us as your sons with this girl?!", Jeguk says, pointing at Ryukyu, who was ready to defend herself and her father figures, but Malacca holds her down, glaring daggers at the two brothers. "Does becoming a parent increase your chance to be a virtuous man that needs respect?"

Joseon comes up empty with words, mind blank, body shaking.

Good, Imsi thinks, let him be ashamed of himself.

Joseon turns to look at Ming, then back at his sons with a remorseful look. He walks to them, tries to touch them, but they both back away. Joseon's brown eyes immediately fill with tears, but he tries to hide it by furrowing his brow.

"Y-you dare disrespect your father like this?", he says sternly. "Who gave you the right to insult your father's decisions?"

"You're no longer our father", Jeguk says, looking at him with an unreadable face, crossing his arms.

Joseon's stern façade breaks, his face contorting to a face of surprise and heartbreak. "Ex-excuse me?"

"You lost the right to be called our father."

Without a word, Jeguk and Imsi walk out of the gardens, feeling everyone's eyes upon him. Tears start to stream down Joseon's face, as he watches the sons he had loved and lost in life turn their backs on him for his choices.

"Those were your sons?", Malacca says disbelieving as he tries to comfort his father figure, while also calming his wife down, who was absolutely fuming and vowing to flip Joseon's sons on the nearest table. "They are more ill-mannered than Ayutthaya, in my opinion."

"That's because you two often fight for my attention", Ryukyu deadpans, "and now he's just asking for that Portugese bastard to remember him."

Meanwhile, the two lovers were also deep in discussion, with Joseon breaking down into sobs while Ming soothes him, rubbing circles on his back. Ming carresses his lover and tries to calm him down.

"I don't understand", Joseon cries into Ming's clothes, "they loved me with all their heart. They adored and idolized me, even when I proved to be weak. How did this-" he motions to he and Ming- "change everything?"

"Love, I think that your sons have been influenced by Qing's mentality", Ming says with a general distaste on his mouth, as he carresses his lover with gentleness and love. "Perhaps they have become close-minded over the years, thinking that love amongst males is forbidden, sinful and atrocious. Kids these days."

"You know, I was looking forward to meet your sons", Malacca blurts in, "you said they were the most wonderful people."

"They are, Malacca", Joseon sighs, "their beliefs are just... slanted."

"'Slanted' as in you and dad?", Ryukyu jokes, and the tense atmosphere in the room turns light as the others let out a few chuckles.

"No one controls the way you love someone", Ming softly says, "they should know that. You should have taught them that back in the days of life."

Joseon doesn't say a word, preferring for his mind to talk to him about the situation at hand, at the prospect he was promptly disowned by his own children. And for what? His unconditional love towards Myeong? He and Myeong had been separated for so long, for so many years, the sea never coming back to crash on the shore, instead, slowly receeding from the golden sand until it dries up, leaving everyone lonely in its wake. He knew that Ming can never come back to him, seeing his corpse in front of him, breaking him and his spirit.

He gently traces a finger around Ming's neck, a thin line made by the rope that had marked the fate of his lover, that had marked the rest of their lives with heartbreak and strife. Ming winces as he looks at Joseon eyeing his wound, reminding him of all his mistakes and sorrows. Ming puts his arms around Joseon, in order to comfort him, and himself.

Their faces were so close together, each feeling each others' breaths on their faces, their eyes telling each other the same thing. Their lips bridge the distance between them, and Joseon tastes the sweet flavor of peach as he explores the inside of his lover, hearing the other sigh and grunt in pleasure, running a hand through Joseon's hair. The man was pleased as he leans more into Ming's warmth, craving for more, more, more. Ming tugs on his hair and Joseon lets out a breathy moan, breaking apart from Ming with hunger in his eyes, grinding his arousal on to Ming's knee. Ming smirks at him, putting a finger on his chin, both their eyes levelled once again. Joseon can see the power, lust and dominance Ming's golden eyes, their smirk turning into a cheshire cat's grin.

"How about we...", Ming tugs at Joseon's hanbok, and he does not protest, already knowing deep inside him he is enjoying this. "... blow off some steam?"

Joseon replies with another kiss on Ming's lips, as he lets himself be carried by his man to another room, leaving the room to Ryukyu and Malacca.

"Since we have the room to ourselves-" Malacca starts but is cut off by lips on his, and he kisses back, already knowing what his wife needs.

Jeguk feels conflicted. After confronting his father, there was a strangled mess of emotions inside of him, a tangled knot refusing to untangle. It was a mess of problems compiled one by one, making him weak in his footsteps, but he carries on, the once bright, beautiful and shining light in the sky burning him through his skin, like he had done a wrong doing and deserved to be burned alive for it. It singes him, clawing through his clothes, skin, hair, bones, until he is nothing but ashes standing in the desert.

When he sees Chosen, however, planting beautiful flowers in their front lawn, the feelings fade, as it is replaced by feelings of fluttering love, like back in the old days of them frolicking in the fields or kissing in the stables whenever no one was there. His beloved sees him and she waves, smiling delightfully, and just like that the memories of his confrontation fades, as he runs to Chosen and hugs her, spinning her around and loving the way she laughs.

Imsi stays silent, no interjection nor bittersweet remark to their flirtations.

After a few more chuckles, Jeguk puts her down, and she looks at Imsi, standing tensely, eyes straight ahead, looking through the couple.

"Imsi, are you okay?", she asks, sounding concerned. Imsi looks at her but doesn't say anything as he walks through the couple like they're ghosts and walks into the house, closing the door with a loud slam, making Chosen flinch and cling on to Jeguk, old memories surging up. He comforts her, soothing her by singing to her lullabies, until she feels better.

"I'm sorry for my brother's attitude, nae salang", Jeguk says as he wipes some of Chosen's tears that spilled from her eyes, "we had a confrontation with our father today."

"Is that why you and Imsi vanished with Joseon all of a sudden?", Chosen asks, burying her face into Jeguk's chest. "Gwaenchanh-a boiji anh-a."

Jeguk sighs, leading his wife inside, his fingers rubbing her palms to make her feel better. He finds Imsi, seated near the tables, head on his hands. "It is because... our father did something horrible, atrocious, sinful."

Chosen gasps, "Mwo?"

Before Jeguk can open his mouth, Imsi intervenes, sounding troubled. "We found our father kissing another man. He did not deserve to be called our father anymore."

Chosen's surprised face is then replaced by furrowed brows and a confused look. "Geuge daya?"

"Well-"

"You disowned your father for loving another man?" Her tone was angry and disbelieving. She lets go of Jeguk, much to her husband's surprise. Imsi looks up from where he was sitting, raising a brow, his mind still brewing up trouble.

"Chosen-", Jeguk tries to respond, but it seems she was not yet done.

"Joseon raised you two! He taught you everything the world has to offer! He loved you both with all his heart, all his soul. Then you say he is not your father anymore for loving another man? That is irrational!"

Imsi stands up, frowning and crossing his arms, staring at her, but she surprisingly remains unfazed in front of the two brothers.

"You don't know him the way we did." Jeguk looks at his brother, who seems to be feeling the same amount of troublesome amount of feelings, trying to destroy his walls with big tidal waves, angry and rumbling and as dark as the sky. It was trying to destroy them both, a rift creating deep inside them and trying to open the gap more.

"If I knew him the way you did I would respect my father's wishes", Chosen shoots back. Imsi keeps his mouth shut, and it was Jeguk's turn to speak up.

"Chosen, don't you understand? Our father had lied to us, kept us in the dark about this atrocity, even tried to defend himself once he is faced with us! He does not deserve to be called our father! To be part of our family!"

Chosen shakes her head, her anger disappating, replaced with a worried look. "I would be angry my own father would hide such a secret from me, but would I cast him away because he is in love with another man? No."

Imsi and Jeguk look at each other, then back at Chosen, who was staring at them.

After a minute of silence, Chosen speaks up.

"Please talk to your father."

"I do not wish to", Imsi replies, and Jeguk himself is surprised by the way Imsi answers her. It was always Jeguk who was stubborn and not complying anyone's orders. Jeguk also wants to deny his wife's suggestion, but something inside him stops. Like there was a yearning in his heart for something more.

So Jeguk makes his choices.

Either he cuts their father out of their afterlives for eternity, or he and his brother accepts him for who he is.

Both sound hard to do.

So he does the latter, taking Imsi's wrist, much to his younger brother's confusion.

"Wait you're certainly not-", Imsi starts, but he sees Jeguk's face, and he sighs. "Y-you feel it too, don't you?"

Jeguk nods, "I feel like we made a mistake."

Imsi takes his brother's hand. "That needs to be right?"

Jeguk nods, embracing him. "That needs to become right."

Imsi was imagining all scenarios running around his head as he and Jeguk walk back towards the palace. His thoughts were screaming at him, trying to control his every movement as he and Jeguk come closer to the place they felt touch their hearts so badly to the point both of them feel each other's guilt so distantly. After his confrontation with his father, he can't help but feel his inside tear apart, as if it wasn't meant for him to disrespect his father like that.

He remembered his father tucking him in bed at night after their mother died, singing the same bedtime lullaby their mother once did, and help him be lulled to sleep. He remembered his father letting him read anything in their vast library, and listening to the wonderful stories Imsi had read, acting it out and becoming in sync with his imagination. He remembered his father lecturing and berating him for pulling on his brother's hair too much. And he remembered the corpse of his father, lying in his room, crimson staining the floors, looking as sad as he was in his life.

"Are you alright?", Jeguk asks him.

"Not at all", Imsi replies while shaking his head, running a hand through his hair. "I just have these stupid thoughts of guilt. I am rather conflicted, as of now. Firstly, seeing our father kiss another man is sinful, second, he is being unfaithful to our mother, and third, he's been lying to us, telling us that that man was his friend every time he mourns him. He was not, he was so much more than that."

"I too am not", Jeguk replies sincerely, as they near the palace. "But it is the first time Chosen had spoken her opinions of the matter at hand. She is never this loud before, so I believe we have done something wrong."

Imsi lightly smirks. "Sounds like you're whipped."

Jeguk shakes his head, "I never get those slang words you are speaking of."

Both of them enter the gates of the front palace with small serene smiles, their silence comfortable. They look at the big, wooden door, made of mahogany and rich textures of wood. It was intimidating, especially the dragon head holding the knob, daring them to hold it and summon forth the great dynasties from beyond. Imsi has the audacity to do reckless things more than his brother, though. So he is the one who holds the brass handle, knocking it against the door. He and Jeguk wait for someone to open the door, or tell them they have permission for opening it.

The door opens, a small creak echoing into the room beyond, and Jeguk and Imsi take a step back, to find an unfamiliar man on the door. He looks at them with a raised brow, intimidating and sharp eyes staring back at them.

"May I help you?", he asks curtly, and Imsi tries hard not to scowl, as he lets Jeguk do the talking.

"We are looking for, erm, Chaoxian?", Jeguk says, stumbling on his words. He looks up at the fallen dynasty in front of him. "Was that the right name for 'Joseon'?"

"Ah, you're the two who dare trespass in our palace with no invitation", the man says. "I do not think my son will let you come in again."

"Why don't you actually install gates to avoid trespassers", Imsi says under his breath, before looking up at the man - apparently Ming's father - and replying with, "we're here to talk to our father."

The man pretends to consider their request, but shakes his head no. "I am sorry but my son's lover does not need visitors right now."

Imsi can feel frustration seeping into his veins, his hands clenching to fists. He looks at Jeguk, who seems to be glaring at the man.

"Look, Yuan - or whatever your name is - we just want to talk to our father, to apologize to him", Jeguk calmly says, but there is a hint of indignance in his voice.

The man's eyes widen as his serious face morphs into one of irritation. "Yuan? You two think I'm Yuan? The person who murdered me and most of my family? The person who made my dear son's life a hellbent adventure? Perhaps I have not introduced myself properly-" he switches to a calmer voice- "my name is Song, last dynasty, along with Jurchen, before that Mongol usurper came along. I think you all know who my son is; Ming."

"What is going on here, father?", a familiar voice asks as Song's son joins him on the doorway, looking down at the two brothers. He looks at them emotionlessly and sighs. "Have you come to torment your father once again?"

Imsi shakes his head, "No sir, we come here to talk to him personally."

Ming tilts his head. "Are you sure you're not going to call him names and explode on him like last time?"

Jeguk nods. "We promise."

Ming nods, widening the doorway. "Well then, it seems you are invited to enter the palace."

Jeguk and Imsi step inside, admiring every single detail on the walls, floors, and ceiling, never really noticing or minding them before due to how they want to explode on their father. The walls were hypnotizing them, commanding the brothers to come closer and embrace its beautiful patterns. The ceiling was giving them all the light they need, laughing at them as they stare up. Ming beckons them to follow, and they do, passing the great wide and lengthy hallway, to the throne room, its size incomparable to anything they've seen in the real life. The thrones were not empty anymore; seated were the great Chinese dynasties, from the mythical Xia and the last dynasty Qing, who was left out, along with a man who looked a lot like him. Yuan, Imsi guesses. They were all with their families, singing, laughing, eating happily like they never had in their first lives. Everyone's eyes turn to look at the two brothers and Ming escorting them.

"Wait, aren't they not the two who insulted their father?", asks the one before Song, who has now occupied his seat.

"For loving another man?", the person seated on the first throne snorts as he fills himself a glass of wine.

"They disrespected their father because of his preferences?", Yuan speaks up but everyone - except Qing - gives him a warning glare, and he seals his lips shut.

("Your father outlawed homosexuality during his reign." One says.)

"Back in our days, we didn't have a care in the world if we love men or women", says the only woman seated on the throne, Great Jin. "We only have one objective in life and it is to marry."

"We already know why these two boys are close-minded of preferences", Ming stares directly at Qing, who holds it for a few seconds before looking away to pretend being enchanted by the walls. Ming looks back at Jeguk and Imsi with a smile, looking old yet... parental. "Come, your dear father is this way."

Jeguk and Imsi follow Ming out of the noisy throne room, an awkward silence consuming them. Imsi looks at Ming, looking far ahead at the large empty hallways full of vases or trinkets or tapestries, each of them having a slight history in them. Imsi then glances at a tapestry of Ming, stepping on a body which seems to be Yuan. Ming had over thrown Yuan, Imsi guesses. Imsi's curiosity starts to spill over the walls he had built around to control himself, and since the hallways were quite large and silent, he decides to ask the first question running around his mind.

"Sir Ming, how did you and my father meet?", Imsi asks.

Ming turns his head to look at him, a slight surprise tinted on his dark eyes and smiles kindly, his cheeks showing the slightest red. "Well, I met your father back when I was a young child; I have been living in the streets ever since Yuan has dethroned my father. I was travelling from region to region to ask citizens to join my cause against the Yuan, but either they were too scared of the immense power the foreigner had or they do not believe a strange, thin child as the true heir of the late Song. So I travelled with only the little food I have to the Korean peninsula, and I found a notable candidate to help me rebel against the foreigners."

A small sigh escapes Ming's lips, incredibly love struck. Imsi wonders if the way a man loves the same gender as he has the same affection as loving another woman. He wonders if all love was the same, if they should be held in a general view. They walk into the beautiful gardens, and the two brothers admire their surroundings, a paradise of the lost, a combination of all beautiful and ugly things. The pond was full of clear water, lily pads on it as the fountains let out bright, sparkly, water.

"Your father was royalty, crown prince of the kingdom his father, Goguryeo, had managed", Ming continues as they pass the butterfly-filled flower bushes, with Jeguk caressing a beautifully patterned butterfly, reminding him of Chosen. "He usually walks to commoner streets in the morning, unguarded."

"Father never even set foot in commoner villages without dozens of guards at his side", Jeguk whispers into Imsi's ear, and Imsi nods.

"I met him once his figure sweeps close to my hiding place", Ming says. "I know that this boy was my ticket to Yuan's palace, and so I surprised him by jumping on his way. Let's just say that Chaoxian had stumbled backwards and commanded me to never set foot near the marketplace. I shot back by saying I was Song's son and therefore heir to the dragon throne, but he replied that I am a madman. With that, he runs back to his palace, perhaps to whine of his misfortune during the day."

"But you and father met again and again, and spent more time", Jeguk assumes as he lets the butterfly fly back to the flowers, as they near the tall peach trees.

"Indeed, my boy", Ming nods as he stands on his tiptoes and reaches to the lowest tree branch, taking three bountiful and healthy peaches and giving two of it to Jeguk and Imsi, who bow to him and silently thank Ming. "He slowly believed I am the rightful heir to the throne, and so he lets me in the palace one day and asks his servants to feed me and give me a warm bath. His parents were quite suspicious of me, thinking I am a con who wants the family fortune, but Chaoxian assures them there is no need to worry. He too, despises Yuan and wishes to expel him. He hires dozens of master fighters, but one of them I had the pleasure to replace as my father in a worth while: Red Turban. He had two sons, Xia and Zhou who are incredibly jealous of my swordsmanship as I train more and more. As I grew healthier and smarter, I started to want something else more than familial fondness and friendly hugs. I desired more, craved more, wanted more than what I have.

"Chaoxian has started eyeing me as well. It seemed that he had been observing my physique and health, and his friendly eyes and smiles turn to one of want and desire as he surveys my body every time we train. It made him distracted from his work. It made me distracted from my goal. One night, Chaoxian had the absolute courage to monitor me and my swordsmanship; the conversation escalated from a friendly one to dozens of flirtatious comments and innuendos to the point we both gave in to our desire." Ming looks at both Jeguk and Imsi, clearly listening with the eyes of intrigued children.

Ming and the brothers reach the end of the garden, into another huge hallway, but this time they had rooms with plaques on their doors. Imsi muses that they must all be large to accomodate many peoples; he passes a sign that reads 'Manchukuo, Fengtian, and Yihetuan', and he guesses that those three brothers share the same room.

"When I died, I left my dear Chaoxian all alone, mourning my death", Ming says. "I felt guilty, too guilty, but I know he will move on from my death and deem me a past love, and have children with his brand new queen." He stares at Jeguk and Imsi with a face of genuine sadness.

"He didn't, though", Jeguk says, "ever since he were alive he would absently stare into nothingness, weep at a single mention of you, hold a day in your honor, and hoard his room with artifacts back when he was young and happy."

"But did your father love you with all his heart?", Ming asks as they stop near a door with the pinyin reading, 'Chaoxian'.

"Yes", Imsi replies, realization striking deep within him as his heart bleeds to see his father and hug him once again. "His love for us was beyond his queens."

Ming smiles. "Then you have replaced me as the love of his life after my death."

Jeguk and Imsi stare at each other, realization striking in as their memories with their father surfaced in their mind, the eyes their father had displayed towards Ming had the same level of affection as he looks back at his twin sons, enjoying the happy lives they had once lead.

"I will ask my love if he wishes to talk to you both at this time", Ming says as he knocks on the door and slips in, looking back at them with his dark eyes glinted with delight. Ming closes the door, face to face with his large bed, with a body lying on it, sleeping soundly. He shakes his head as he fondly smiles, approaching Chaoxian and gently shaking him awake. The man in question stirs from his sleep, moving his blankets and turning to face him, tired eyes and an annoyed look.

"What is it Ming?", Joseon asks rudely, "we had just pleasured ourselves a while ago and I wish to sleep."

"But that means you cannot talk to your sons." Ming plays innocent. Joseon's eyes stop being tired at once as a look of surprise come across his face.

"M-my sons? They are here?" Joseon immediately shoots up, ignoring the pain on his back as he tries to look for his clothes. "You only notified me of my son's arrival now?"

Ming shrugs, "They came shortly after I made sure you were sound asleep."

Joseon groans as he finds his clothes and dresses himself up, making sure his hair looks kept and his appearance presentable. "I'm still sore and stressed."

Ming chuckles. "Don't fret, my love. You'll rest sooner or later." Joseon makes a motion for him to open the door and let his sons in, and so Ming obeys, as in comes Joseon and Imsi, slowly and carefully. "I'll leave you all to talk." With that, Ming closes the door with him on the other side.

Joseon looks at his sons, eyes darting from a sheepish Jeguk to an awkward Imsi. The three of them were all waiting for the other party to speak up, to tell what's on their minds. Joseon lightly sighs as he nears his sons; both make a slight hesitation if they should stay in their place but neither took a step backwards as Joseon's arms wrap around then in an embrace. Imsi and Jeguk hug back, missing their father even if it had just been an hour or two. Joseon leans back, looking at his sons with a smile.

"I'm sorry-"

"No, we both are sorry", Jeguk interrupts their father. "We're sorry for treating you as if you are second class, as a sinful monster, and disrespecting you."

"We're sorry that we have never been considerate of your feelings", Imsi says, tears filling his eyes. "I never thought you'd-"

"And I apologize for neglecting my duties as a father", Joseon says, "I love you more than what the world has offered me."

"We love you as well, father", Jeguk replies with a sad smile. "We almost gave you up for your preferences."

"You are both forgiven." Joseon kisses them lightly on the top of their foreheads, and they both feel wamth surge inside them, a piece in their hearts finally attaching itself together again.

"It seems that we haven't met properly yet", Jeguk says, bowing to the woman his father had deemed as a daughter of his. "I am Daehan Jeguk, former heir to my father Joseon's throne."

The woman rolls her eyes, curtsying. "I've known you since both you and your brother were babes, yet you only regard me as an ally and not a friend. No matter; I am Ryukyu."

Malacca eyes Jeguk and Ryukyu talking, furrowing his brows. He feels someone touch his arm, and he turns his head to find Jeguk's twin brother.

"You do know that Jeguk is married, right?", Imsi points out like the clever little weasel he is.

"Yes", Malacca replies with a frown. "But I still don't like how close he is to my wife."

"Sultanate, I don't know about you but my brother would never cheat on his wife that has suffered too much." Imsi's last statement was vague as he asks for another glass of wine from a servant.

"Why? What happened to his wife?"

"Teikoku."

Malacca blinks and widens his eyes in realization. "Oh."

Imsi takes a sip of his wine as he bumps into another man, who did not take kindly to this assault. The man turns and faces him, face stone-cold and eyes glaring towards Imsi, who was muttering out apologies.

"You should be sorry", the man tells him through a low, cold voice.

"Ayutthaya!", a jovial and elderly voice sounds through the croud, and it breaks the intimidating air Ayutthaya had created, making Imsi exhale a breath of relief and thank Myeong. Myeong approaches them, silk robes and all, as he smiles pleasantly towards Imsi and frowns at Ayutthaya. "Now now, what have I told you about scaring new family members?"

Imsi blinks, clearly surprised at what Myeong had said. Family. He and Jeguk are now part of Myeong's - clearly - large family? He looks around to find most of Myeong's tributaries chatting amongst themselves or tasting the sweet treats the servants had cooked for them, and he realizes he can finally have more than one brother; he can have all.

"Wait, me and Jeguk are part of your family now?", Imsi asks, mouth agape.

Ayutthaya scoffs and rolls his eyes. "Of course, you idiot. Haven't you heard that your father has married Ming?"

Imsi blinks. "Married?"

Myeong looks sheepish. "Oh, we're really sorry we didn't-"

"No, it's fine", Imsi cuts in and gives Myeong a hug. "I think I feel found."

Ming smiles as he embraces the young boy back, savoring his warmth. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Ayutthaya give the two a slight smile before it turns to a frown once he notices Jeguk and the others approaching them. The man groans as Ming and Imsi part.

Joseon pats Ayutthaya on the head as he embraces Ming and gives him a shy kiss on the cheek, making the room errupt in a cheer, save for Jeguk who modestly claps and Imsi who smiles at them. Ayutthaya was cheering along as well, crossing his arms.

"Hey Jeguk", Imsi whispers to his older brother, who was busily pouring himself a drink.

"Yes?"

"Do you feel the slightest bit weirded out when father kissed Myeong?"

A pause from Jeguk, hesitation. "A little bit, yes." He turns and he and Imsi watch Ming and Joseon kiss and hug each other tightly, like they were meant to be, like they were soulmates.

"But if father is happy, I am happy too."

#mine #writing #countryhumans #countryhumans kpg #countryhumans korean empire #countryhumans chosen #countryhumans joseon #countryhumans ming #countryhumans ryukyu kingdom #countryhumans malacca sultanate #countryhumans ayutthaya

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