#still wanna sob whenever the chain comes on and i would be very surprised if it wasnt at the top of my wrapped this year

[smithsparker]

hello bestiess it's wrapped posting time! i still cant figure out how to do a readmore on mobile so im sorry <3

yes i have gay pirates disease. no i dont wanna talk abt it

(god i really didnt think it would be so high sobs)

[vanillafrog]

I'm Scared to Feel This Way (But You Won't Let Me Run Away)

Pairing: Whiskey x You

Summary: You hated his existence more than anything but once forced to be his trainee, you come to feel a whirlwind of emotions towards Whiskey that overwhelms you completely. Luckily, Whiskey might just feel the same way.

Word Count: 3511

Warnings: angst to smut to fluff, oral sex (f receiving), rough sex, degradation and a bit a praise, unprotected sex (wrap it up, folks), creampie

A/N: I wrote this live in front of my friends so they got to watch me black out and write this lol. Though tbh, writing in front of people real time does make you finish things.

To be a Statesman takes hard work and dedication. Something a lot of people don't have the capability of doing which is why there are only a handful of top agents that will take on students from the Academy to train under them as their ward. There are tons of students who prayed and pleaded for an agent to take them under. Some had very specific tastes on who they wanted.

Most of the people wanted to work under someone they found... ahem aesthetically pleasing. This being the case, Agent Jack Daniels or as others called him, Whiskey, had a swarm of people pleading for him to take them under. Some quite literally.

Yet, here this cowboy stood with an annoying smirk on his face as your professor announced that you would be his trainee. It was an amazing opportunity to have but... fuck that dude. You wished any other agent had chose you and from that stupid look on his face, he knew. He always knew that he drove you batshit whenever he would come guest lecture or stand in for the sparring trainer. It was just his energy that made you feral and not in a way you were particularly used to. The accent, the hat, the cocky attitude made you just want to punch him. But you couldn't. Not without completely throwing away your scholarship that you worked too hard to obtain. No, you couldn't punch.

So you would ignore him. At first, whenever he would flirt at you, you would just turn your head to whoever was next to you to make it seem like you thought it was them he was flirting with. After all, those stupid sunglasses made it difficult to tell who he was looking at anyways. Then he started to not wear them around you. Which truthfully was somewhat endearing but the stupid shit that left his mouth dampened the effect.

Then you had to get creative in ignoring him. He'd flirt, you'd look around you like you were lost before shrugging at him and walking away. Whiskey at first was confused by it (maybe a little hurt if he was honest) but that didn't stop the cowboy. If anything, it seemed to encourage him to want to get in your pants even harder.

Soon it just became walking out of rooms he was in and if you couldn't, you just wouldn't listen to anything he said unless he was lecturing or saying something of use. He would find ways of approaching you, talking to you. Even on one occasion, brushing your arm. That didn't end up well for either of you but that was a story for another time.

Now you're stuck following his hick ass around god's creation for the next few months until you were assigned as an official agent. The first month felt like hell on earth but then he became a somewhat bearable presence. He was still flirty and downright arrogant at times but it did seem like he wanted you to do your best in this field. Something you didn't expect if you were honest but that would be your fault for judging a book by its cover. Half way through your second month with him, you began to notice how your eyes would find him instantly whenever entering a room. You shrugged it off as a force of habit from when you were ignoring him. Then at the end of the month, you noticed how you would actively seek him out in those rooms. That bothered you a little. Made it feel like he was winning some game you barely knew the rules of. But whatever, you just went with it. It's not like it could get particularly worse than that.

Then it did. The first time it happened was after you shadowed him on a mission that went sideways. You both were okay and the mission was successful but the scrapes and bruises, the nearly getting shot exhausted you to the bone. That night in your shared hotel room you both shared a bed even though there were two.

He had offered when he noticed how shaken up you were. You had tried to play it off, seem like some type of bad ass. But he saw through it so you ended up cuddled against his chest that night and he was pleasant. Whiskey didn't flirt or be annoying or anything other than a gentleman. Something so rare to see in him. It was like it broke something in you. Or fixed. Something.

Four months as his ward and you weren't as annoyed with him as you used to be. After rough missions, you even found yourself hugging him or cuddling up in bed. The people who knew your distaste in him from before teased you about how he got you wrapped around his finger. You wished they were wrong but they weren't. He did have you wrapped around his finger and upon realizing it, you were scared.

Being scared means running. At least that's what it meant to you. You didn't exactly avoid him. You couldn't even if you wanted to. No, you just didn't spend extra time with him. After missions, you would force yourself away from him. Away from some kind of comfort that only he could provide. Whiskey didn't say anything at first. Then a month passed and he noticed how distant you were. He couldn't help but wonder what it was that he did wrong. Your interactions before you distanced yourself were normal to your guys' standards. Hell, he was sure you were beginning to feel the same way for him as he felt for you since you first shown you weren't going to fall easily into his charms.

"Hey." It was a late Thursday evening when Whiskey caught you before leaving the building. You looked up at him confused but decided to stop and wait for him to come up to you. "Need a ride?"

"What?" You stared at him bewildered. Sure, there were times where you rode on the back on his motorcycle before but those were always for missions and not so much pleasure. Whiskey smiled shyly at you.

"I just-" He cleared his throat, looking away for a moment before making eye contact again.

"We haven't really spent time together lately so I thought, maybe, I could take you home..." He trailed off for a moment. "Maybe we could order take out?"

"Are you asking me out on a date?" You didn't mean to sound so aghast, you really didn't. He just surprised you. The cowboy never seemed to be the dating type. Hell, him being somewhat shy right now was positively nerve-racking. Whiskey shifted his feet before taking a breathe and giving you a panty dropping smile. "And if I am?"

You stood there for a moment, processing what was happening. There was absolutely no way... there was... Agent Jack Daniels was asking you of all people on a date like a school boy. It broke your heart and repaired it all in a handful of seconds. You didn't even notice that you were staring at him or crying until his rough palms held your cheeks so gently that you were positive you knew what this feeling you were so scared of was.

"Baby," he whispered. "Tell me what I did wrong. Tell me how to fix this." His voice was a desperate plead as hands moved behind your back and pulled you toward his chest. You just sobbed louder, clutching onto him for dear life. He nuzzled your hair with your nose, holding you firmly and making sure there were no wandering eyes to see you in your distressed position. He just knew you would hate for others to see you having a weak moment.

After a few moments where your sobs became softer, Whiskey placed a sweet kiss on your forehead before pulling away. "So sugar," you scoffed at the nickname making him chuckle. "Do I get to take you out?"

"On a date or with a sniper?" You smiled at him getting a loud laugh in response. Your heart clenched at the sound.

"I was hoping a date but if you preferred something else..." Whiskey smelled deviously at you causing an ache in your core. You coughed, looking around at the empty hall around you. "I'm just yanking your chain, baby. As much as I want to have you for dinner, I won't make you do anything you don't wanna."

Fuck, fuck, shit. Why did he make common sense and consent sound so sexy? When did he even cause arousal to spike through you? Maybe this was what you were always feeling towards him. Perhaps that annoyance was an act you held up in hopes of hiding how badly you wanted to save a horse. Didn't matter because you just finished having a mental breakdown over emotions for the same guy who was willing to fuck you even with tear stained cheeks.

You looked back at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him towards your face. Your lips barely an inch apart. A groan left his mouth as one hand tangled into the hair on the back of his neck, just pointing out of his hat. "Are you offering to fuck me?"

His hands found your hips, grip tight as he pulled your body into his. His dark eyes shifted behind your eyes, looking for any signs of distress or teasing before leaning towards your ear and whispering, "I was thinking more along the lines of making love..." Your breath hitched. "But if you want me to pound that pretty pussy of yours, all you got to do is ask."

He pulled your ear lobe between his teeth gently before ghosting his nose along your cheek and hovering his lips just above yours. Without thought, you pushed your lips into his roughy. He reciprocated instantly, devouring your lips with no regard for the clanking of teeth. One of his hands trailed up your back and grabbing you at the base of your neck, tilting your head exactly how he wanted so he could tear you apart with his mouth.

You couldn't help the moan that left you as you tried to grind up against him. Whiskey just abruptly pulled away from you, ignoring your whine but smiling at how you chased after his lips.

"As much as I always wanted to fuck you on my desk, I think I would rather see how beautiful you look on my bed." He grabbed your hand before walking to the elevator. He didn't yank or drag you and his grip was firm but loose enough for you to pull away from if you wanted. Despite his filthy words and filthier kissing, he was still being respectful to you. Shit, if that didn't make your pussy throb even harder and your heart proud against your ribs.

Climbing onto his motorcycle was second nature, securing your arms around his waist after strapping on the helmet was a common occurrence. However this time it felt different. Like you were setting something in stone that you weren't really sure of what it was but knew was good.

The ride to his apartment was quick. Probably quicker than it should've been with your hand palming him through his jeans but you weren't going to get into it with him about driving safety. At least not now as he climbs off his bike and quite literally throws your over his shoulder. A laugh tore through you as he stomped his way into his apartment building and the elevator leading up to his floor.

"Oh you thought that little game of yours was cute, baby girl?" His voice a rough growl. "Playing with my cock like that when I'm trying to focus on the road."

"Only a little bit," you snickered at him. In response, he swatted your ass making you moan involuntarily. His grip tightened around your thighs.

"Well I be damned sugar," he ran his hand over where he just smacked, soothing it. "I never would've thought you were so damn dirty but I might've gotten real lucky with you."

Your nails dug into his back when he said that and the cocky bastard chuckled. He caught you with your pants down so might as well try to get the high ground again. "Sir," you whined while wiggling your hips. His breath caught in his throat, obviously thinking you weren't going to play along. "I'll be your good girl."

As soon as the elevator opened, he hauled ass to his apartment, particularly ripping the doorknob off trying to rush inside. Jack didn't even bother setting you down. He just headed straight to his bedroom where he tossed you onto his large mattress where you bounced from the force of it.

You looked up at him with a doe like expression, watching him breath heavily and finally being able to take note of the large bulge formed in his jeans. Jack grabbed your ankles, pulling you so your ass was hanging off the bed and he was the only reason why you didn't fall.

"You going to be a good girl for me?" His hand squished your cheeks and you nodded. His gaze softened for a moment. "You'll tell me when to stop or slow down?"

"Yes sir," you responded back to him as clear as your lust hazed mind would allow you. He nodded before shoving your shirt over your head and yanking your pants off, leaving you in your underwear. You couldn't help but feel self conscious under his appraising gaze. This morning you didn't exactly put on your 'fuck me' underwear. It's not like you knew you were going to end up sleeping with your mentor today though you probably should've. Being a Statesman did mean being prepared for any outcome.

"So fucking pretty," he mumbled more to himself than you. His large hand roamed over your stomach and thighs before his eyes made his way back toward your face. "I really am the luckiest man." "Jack," you whined, pushing your hips up towards his causing him to swat your thigh.

"Wrong name, pretty girl." His fingers found their way to the hem of your underwear.

"S-sir," you corrected yourself. He hummed, pushing his hand down until his fingers found your soaked core. He groaned as he swiped his fingers through your folds making your whimper before he pulled his hand out and popped his fingers in his mouth while holding eye contact with you. The moan he let out was downright sinful.

"Sweeter than sugar and damn near the best thing I've ever tasted." He grabbed the hem of your panties, waiting for your signal. You nodded and he quickly yanked them down your legs before dropping to his knees. He had just barely thrown your legs over his shoulders before he enveloped your heat with his mouth making you arch up into him. "Take off your bra, let me see you play with those beautiful tits."

You instantly followed his orders, throwing the bra somewhere in the room and tweaking your hardened nipples as he tongue flicked at your clit. You cried out as he pulled your closer to his face as he began to roll your sensitive nub around before sucking harshly. There was no way to focus on anything other than the pleasure he was bringing you so you dropped your hands into his hair and pulling on it making him stand up and away from you.

"I don't remember telling you to do that." "I'm sorry, I'm-" You didn't get to finish your half assed apology before Jack hauled you onto the bed and rolled you onto your stomach.

"Hands and knees." You scrambled up instantly. "Since you wanted to act like a little whore, I'll fuck you like one." Behind you, you could hear the clanking of him unbuckling his belt. You couldn't help pushing your hips back towards him making his swat your ass. "Needy little slut."

You had just barely felt the brush of him against your entrance before he was pushing in, stretching you out against his impressive length. He paused half way through, letting you adjust to him. Once he felt your walls relax around him, he quickly thrusted the rest of himself inside making you cry out. You both groaned at him finally filling you to the hilt.

A second passed before he started to languidly thrust. Your head dropped between your shoulders as his cock hit every crevice inside you. Now you knew he had a reason to be so damn arrogant sometimes.

He yanked your head up by your hair. "Pay attention, baby girl." His thrusts turned harsh and fast suddenly. "Because I'm not going to fucking repeat myself." You could barely focus on anything other than stroking of him inside. "You. Are. Mine." He thrusted in time with his words. "No one else gets to feel this tight little pussy of yours. No one else gets to hear this sounds and no one else gets to have your heart."

Your hips moved back into his his, trying to reach that high that you just knew was going to absolutely destroy you. When you didn't respond, he pulled you up by your neck. He held you up against his chest by your throat, not choking you, just holding you there.

"Answer me," he hissed out between his teeth was your cunt clenched around him. You brought your hand up to his, pushing it more against you, trying to encourage him to choke.

"Yours," you breathed out. "Yours, o-only yours." He gave your neck a test squeeze and sure enough, you began thrusting back towards him faster. "Only gonna love you, only you, fuck." You were getting so damn close. Hell, you didn't even notice what you just said but he did.

All the air in his lungs left him. He pulled out, ignoring your whine before pushing you onto your back and covering your body with his. Jack greedily attached his lips to yours as he pushed back into you and resumed pounding your pussy. With one arm holding him up beside your head, the other found it's way between your legs where he rubbed circles against your clit making you finally teeter over the edge.

You screamed out his name against his lips and he fucked you through your orgasm. His fingers didn't stop rubbing your clit under your pushed them away but he didn't stop his harsh thrusts. He just moved that arm parallel to the other one as he pushed himself closer towards his release.

"Where?" He groaned out, thrusts turning sloppier and harder.

"Inside." He loudly inhaled before dropping his head into your neck and leaving multiple kisses and bites between praises of "such a good girl" and "made just for me" along other things muffled against your skin.

His nose pressed into your pulse as he throbbed inside of you, feeling you with his seed. A drawn out moan fell from his lips along with a chant of your name. He rocked inside you for a bit before staying still and kissing you gently.

Now that the lust had been satisfied, he was able to hold you under him and show you exactly how he felt. He pulled his lips away from yours and brushed hair out of your face. You gazed up at him with tired but loving eyes. Jack couldn't help but smile at you and places kisses whether he could reach. Mouth, nose, forehead, cheeks.

"I don't know what made you cry earlier," he started, lips pressed against your cheek. "But I promise, baby girl, that I'll do my best by you."

"I know, Jack," you fingers massaging his scalp. "And I promise to be my best for you as well."

He pulled away to hover over you, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Does this mean I get to bang you on my desk?" You laughed at him, making you both temporarily hiss when you squeezed around his softened cock inside you. "One day but for now, let's cuddle."

"Anything for you." He pulled out of you , rolling onto his back and pulling you on top of him. His heart beat was steady against your ear and clearer than anything had been in your life.

Agent Jack Daniels was an annoying son of a bitch. Since you met for the first time, he had gotten on your last nerve but somehow he ended up wiggling his way into your heart. Even more bizarre, you were in his as well. So maybe your professor allowing you to work under him was a good idea after all. Agent Whiskey was one of the best in the field to learn from and now you knew for a fact that he was going to be the best to take care of your damaged heart. You could only hope to be able to cherish his properly in return.

[bird-in-a-cage]

Found the ones with the horniest vibes for me! 39, 62, 103, 114, 127, 149. You know e x a c t l y what I want bby 😌😏 -CockAsInTheBird

Hi bby!

As one of my biggest supporters, and with how many prompts you gave me, you’re getting two fills. For the first one, well, you’ll see. Hope you enjoy!

Also a quick thank you to everyone who has sent in a little request so far. It means the world to me. I’m slowly making my way through them all and will get to each one in time. Having a full time job really does take up vaulable writing hours let me tell you. There’s still plenty of prompts available from the list here, or if you wanna just spin me your own ideas that’s totally okay too. My ask box is always open.

#62 - It’s okay, they’re he’s gone now. #149 I just want to look at you

2k | dead dove do not eat | murder ahoy. 

Part I is here

Serial Killer AU Part II

“If you could kill anyone, who would it be?” Steve asked casually, passing back the shared cigarette, smoke filling the air between them like barely there fog. Billy was laying down, plaid sheets bunched around his middle, looking up at a popcorn ceiling, shaggy brunette hair and dangerously calm amber eyes. Billy took what was left of the cigarette and inhaled slowly, but he didn’t have to think of an answer. He knew. Had known for years, if given the chance, who he would kill without a second thought. Had spent nights thinking about it over and over again.

“My dad.”

Those dangerous eyes twinkled in the dark, the only light coming from a lamp sitting on the nightstand, casting the room in a too bright orange glow. A smirk started to grow on Steve’s face, half hidden by shadows, the wheels starting to turn. He shifted, sank more under the sheets from his sitting position up against the headboard until he was on his side, propped up by an elbow, reached across the small space and thumbed Billy’s jaw tenderly like a lover would. It was little touches that pulled Billy more under his spell, little soft words here and there. Affirmations he was doing something good for the first time in his life.

He was good. After all this time.

“I think that sounds like a fun date night, don’t you?” Steve’s hand crept up to hold Billy’s cheek, cupping it softly, brushing his fingers over the bone underneath, tracing his skull like that’s all Steve could see. Was all he was interested in. “And you were so helpful with my little Hagan problem, I think you deserve it.” 

Tommy had been three days ago. Billy drove. That’s what he did now. Drove Steve around wherever he wanted to go. Helped whenever he needed it. Mostly loading and unloading. Holding people down. Being the muscle. Keeping people quiet. Making sure their eyes were open. Steve liked that. Liked people watching him work. Liked to see the will to fight turn limp and tearful upon realisation.

Tommy never locked his door. Never had apparently. Steve had been in his house many times. Knew exactly where to find him, knew his mom was working out of town for a week after a little reconnaissance. Steve was still the town’s darling after all. Tommy put up more of a fight than most. Almost got away if Billy didn’t stop him at the door. Because he did that now too. Kept watch. Kept watch for cops and onlookers. Nosey neighbours. Made sure no one got away. No possible loose ends that would need to be tied up.

He'd looked up at Billy so betrayed.

Steve stabbed Tommy fourteen times in the kitchen of the Hagan house. One for every year they had been friends. The last one was in the heart, so powerful Billy heard a rib crack from the other side of the room.

Disobeying the King had broken Steve’s heart. So he had to break Tommy's in return.

Blood was everywhere. Steve was covered in it as he panted over Tommy’s body, choking and gurgling on the last few moments of life. Looking up at them both helplessly, like maybe this was just a nightmare and he'd wake up soon. Steve waited until all was silent, got to his feet and set the knife on the kitchen table, regained his composure and swept his hair back with a bloody hand and a deep sigh. During the act he looked manic. Possessed by pure evil. Eyes wild and crazy. Unblinking. Not missing a single moment of his own handiwork.

“I don’t want Mrs Hagan to find this, she was always nice to me," he said calmly, eyes never leaving Tommy’s body. It was an order without the words.

Clean this up.

So Billy did, without question. Grabbed rubber marigolds and bleach from under the sink and scrubbed and scrubbed until the kitchen was sparkling again. Tommy was rolled up into a bedsheet and dumped like old luggage in the trunk of the BMW. Billy drove them out to the outskirts of town when it was nearly dawn, a little side road Steve had picked out especially. He liked to display. What he was doing was art at the most carnal level.

"We used to come here when he was wanting to experiment," he explained calmly, like he wasn't propping up the body of his former friend against a rock for a hiker to stumble across on their morning trail. "Wasn't gay if it was out of town. It's not gay if you don't take it Stevie."

Billy had just smoked. Kept the engine running for the headlights and watched. He could have ended everything right there. Crushed the maniac under the wheels and ran. Someone would surely believe his story. He was innocent. But he didn't. He just stood and smoked. Waited. 

Internally, he'd been trying to convince himself this was all for self preservation. Billy knew he was on Steve's imaginary list. He had to have been. Everyone else had been picked off and there wasn't a single hope he wasn't next. But Steve never said a word about it. Never gave off a look or an attitude that he was even contemplating it. He gave Billy smiles and compliments, reassurances that everything was okay, Billy was good at this, that he needed Billy's help, couldn’t do it without him. And something deep deep down clung to those kind, blood soaked words. 

Billy had never been told he was good before. Always a bad kid, a troublemaker, only fit for a chain gang. Even in elementary school. Good grades but a poor attitude. Constantly in the way of everyone's good time, fit for nothing. So many times he'd heard his father's rage towards him, both in front of and behind his back. Cruel words snarled like Billy was nothing but an old dog that just wouldn't die. Didn’t fit in with the new family. A ghost from the past.

Steve told him he was good. Almost constantly. And he’d never really liked Tommy that much anyway.

With how those dark eyes glittered in the dark of Steve's room, looking directly into Billy's very soul, calling to him like a siren in the middle of a storm, a date night sounded like a great idea.

***

Max and Susan were away for the weekend. Billy remembered it being on the family calendar pinned to the wall by the door the last time he was home. The day of Nancy. Written in bold black ink and circled three times. They were visiting some aunt or cousin or whatever. Billy hadn't really been paying attention to the conversation other than when the phrase 'boy's weekend' innocently left Susan's lips and Billy's very core turned the ice at the thought of there being absolutely no barrier between him and his father’s rage for three whole days.

A lot had changed since then.

For as much as Billy detested his father, he knew his routine. An ex military man. Always kept impeccable timing. It had gotten Billy in trouble more than once. Being a minute late for curfew and having to spend the night freezing in his car, shivering under a leather jacket and not much else.

He could feel Steve practically vibrating with excitement in the passenger seat as Billy cut the engine pulling up to Cherry Lane. He squeezed Billy's thigh firm but tender. Reassuring but serious.

Don’t back out now.

"You ready for this stud?"

Billy could only nod looking up at the house and what he knew what inside. It was late and a Saturday night. Neil would be passed out on the couch in front of whatever movie was on tv, half drunk on warm beer if Billy wasn’t there to be the punching bag.

He wasn't scared. Wasn't really thinking about the consequences of all of this. This was revenge now. Payback. For years of abuse both mental and physical. For being beaten down and made to feel lower than dirt. For every foul word and sharp backhand. For every dinnerless evening and night alone willing himself not to sob into a pillow because boys don't cry William. For being made and twisted into a creature that was now beyond human, beyond all control, but Steve understood.

They shared the same soul, the same creature. It rattled around them deep inside. Jerked and pulled and warped and swelled and became unstoppable. Billy just needed someone to unlock the cage. Steve had the key that fit perfectly.

Billy squeezed Steve's hand before they left the car. Billy still had keys even though he hadn't been home in close to a month. No one came looking for him. He didn't expect them to. He very well could have been dead in a ditch the way the body count was growing and the cops were being incompetent. But it all just added fuel to the fire.

The entire time Steve's grin was delicious. That same manic look back in his eyes that was always there when they did this. Like a shark when there was blood in the water. It made Billy’s heart flutter. For this one they swapped places. Managed to get the surprise swoop and have Neil pinned with a hand over his mouth before he could properly register what was happening. Before he could spit one last drop of venom in Billy's direction.

Steve had given him back his switchblade. A present for being so loyal and helpful. A sign of trust that it would never be used on himself. Billy twisted it into his father's neck with no remorse. Buried the blade so deep it hit bone. The gush and waterfall of blood was warm on them both. Billy stepped back from it to watch realisation and anger and then abject hopelessness wash through steely eyes that had been nothing but cruel his whole life. Steve laughed. Cackled towards the ceiling, biting his lip like a schoolgirl. Made sure to get blood on his hands like he was washing them under a wild spring. Billy felt some drip off his cheek, stain his shirt as he just panted, heart hammering in his chest and thrumming through his bones as Neil was let go to twitch and die on the carpet. Finally gone.

Steve took Billy's head in his hands gently, cupping his jaw and thumbing up to his cheeks. Everything was slick and warm. Spreading blood everywhere that had been clean. Marking his teritory.

"Oh baby, I just wanna look at you, I'm so proud of you!" Steve spoke comfortingly. Like a mother would after their kid won a third grade spelling bee. His eyes sparkled like diamonds. He was genuinely proud of what Billy had done. And that made Billy warm inside. Emotions mixed and twisted as it sunk in what Billy had done. He was crying a few solitary tears before he knew it, but they were gently brushed away by caressing thumbs.

"Hey, hey its okay, he’s gone now" Steve cooed. "The first is always the hardest. Especially if it's family." 

That had been Steve's first. His own father. He'd confessed one night in bed, both of them sweaty and hard. Like talking about this kind of thing was a turn on. It certainly was for Steve. Made him hard as a rock. He muttered his sins into the back of Billy's neck as he fucked into his protege so vigorously the headboard slammed off the wall and threatened to snap. Scraping his teeth over tanned skin as he let memories fly. About how he'd poisoned his father and just watched him convulce on the hallway floor. Just watched as the man begged for help but received nothing but the cold eyes of his own sixteen year old son.

He always came hard to that story, knuckles white, fingers digging into Billy’s hips and leaving bruises for days.

Billy tucked his head into Steve's neck, wrapped his arms around the thinner waist and let himself be held in return. Let himself be kissed. Let himself taste copper pennies and iron and smoke and spearmint gum from an hour before. And excitement. Let himself be pushed up against the wall of the hallway he'd walked through countless times and feel his partner hard against his hip. Let thighs slot together and bodies start rutting. Both running on adrenaline and excitement as a slain monster lay defeated on the floor. No longer part of the story. Groans being eaten. Hair being pulled. Bodies running tighter and tighter until the inevitable conclusion and cum soaked denim aftermath.

Steve panted warm against Billy’s temple, lips stained and swollen. Before this would have never been allowed. Never ever. Now Billy was free. Unchained. Knew deep in his heart and his head he would follow Steve to the ends of the earth as thanks for this wonderful gift. Words would never be able to describe how grateful he was. 

It was the best day of his life.

[snarkwrites]

sprung spring |need you| juice ortiz [ m]

NOTES:

Before I even get into anything else. This happens a few days after Juice tried to commit suicide. I did my best to kind of vaguely follow what they did show on the show. But.. I tried to be as vague as possible here too because suicide is such a triggering / hard topic for me and others. Sorry in advance if I didn’t keep it vague enough. I also realize that Juice wasn’t in the best place mentally around that timeframe, so if this seems as if it’s out of left field, I’m sorry too. I tried. The idea came and I went with it. Angsty to start... Hints of angst scattered throughout if you squint.

TAGGING:

@kyleoreillysknee​ | @rampagewriting​ | @chasingeverybreakingwave​ asked to be tagged in SOA. if you want to be added to my tag lists, [ here ] is the doc otherwise, I won’t be tagging you. 

PROMPTS USED:

“I almost lost you” kiss + caught off guard kiss + no foreplay + after an injury + almost getting caught + desperate + needy / clingy sex -

WARNINGS:

[hints of attempted suicide] | [ body fluid because again, a bitch forgot the rubber ] | [ angst warning at the beginning ] | [ biting / marking; dirty talk ]

CHARACTER:

Juice Ortiz x ofc, Hazel [ from the fake fic title asks... this is kind of another part to their story, in case I never write it... maybe if enough people bother me I’d be more tempted. ] 

“What the fuck were you even thinking, Juice? Why? Why were you…Why would you do that?” Hazel couldn’t even bring herself to say it. She couldn’t look at the angry bruising and the chain indentations around his neck, either. Rather than do that, she stared intently at the floor, at her feet, at the television playing the 10 pm news at a low volume in the room behind him as he lingered in the doorway.

Juice eyed her with a raised brow and as soon as he realized why she was stopping by, he started to close the door. “I don’t wanna talk about it. I didn’t want to fucking talk about it with anyone else. I definitely don’t wanna get into it with you. Just.. Just go, please?”

Hazel wasn’t about to leave him, not when he obviously needed someone around. And truth be told, when she found out what he’d tried to do, how he’d tried to take his own life, it forced her to confront her own feelings about him. What she would’ve felt if he’d actually succeeded in doing it, if the tree branch hadn’t broken and he hadn’t hit the ground.

And for once, she didn’t have anything to say. And she wasn’t in the mood to fight, she was still in the midst of freaking out after finding out what he’d tried to do. She’d rushed straight over as soon as she overheard what happened while cleaning up around the MC. 

Juice braced himself, fully prepared for Hazel to explode. To his surprise, he found himself shoved against the door frame as she took his face in her hands, pulling him down slightly, pulling his mouth against hers almost desperately. Her lips latched on to his lips and her tongue slipped out, tracing over the outline of his mouth gently as she molded herself against him. Something wet touched his cheek and he realized in a daze that a, she was kissing him and b, she was crying and her tears were pooling between their faces, rolling down his cheeks as well as his own. His hands gripped her hips and he dug his fingertips in, deepening the kiss. One of his hands rose, tangling in thick blonde strands as it came to rest against the back of her head. 

The kiss broke with both parties gaping at each other wide-eyed. “You.. Wait, why did you do that?”

“Yeah… I did.” Hazel muttered quietly, a shocked tone as she did. Before she could stop herself, it slipped out. “If I lost you, Juice… I honestly don’t know what it would do to me.”

His brow raised and he stepped closer all over again, staring down at her lips all swollen and dark pink from the impact of the kiss. “Wait.. what are you sayin right now, Haze?”

“I’m saying that I can’t lose you, okay? I’m saying that when I overheard them talking about what you… tried to do… It hit me. My last conversation with you could’ve been a nasty argument. The last thing I could’ve said to you is something I didn’t mean and don’t feel...” Hazel’s words tumbled out one right after the other and she lowered her head, wiping at her eyes with the sleeve of her favorite plaid shirt. She hated people seeing her cry. She hated feeling weak or vulnerable and right now, she very much felt exactly that. Not knowing how Juice was going to react, what he’d say…

She’d never just laid it all out there.

Juice stood there, frozen in place, trying to piece together what she’d just blurted out. His hand raised, resting against the back of his head and he took a shaky breath as he stared at her. When she lowered her head, he reached out, fingers catching her chin and tilting it so that she had to look back up at him. “If you don’t hate me, then how do you feel, huh?”

Hazel gulped, trying to pry her eyes off of his and she took a shaky breath. “I…”

She tried to lower her gaze but Juice wasn’t having it. “I asked ya a question, Haze.”

Her mouth opened and closed. She’d literally never had such a hard time saying anything before in her entire life. The words were stuck in her throat because she was afraid if she said them out loud, that gave him all the power in the world to completely wreck her.

Deep down though, she knew him like the back of her hand. She knew he wouldn’t do that. Hell, whenever they fought or anything, he often walked away just to keep from getting too angry. 

“I..”

“You what, huh? Because it fucking seems like ya hate me.” Juice winced at his own harsher tone and quickly muttered an apology. He stayed edgy around her. Because he never knew whether they were going to argue or butt head or whether she was going to keep him at an arms length.

“I love you and it scares me. I love you. Fuck.” Hazel finally managed to get it out, quick to drop her gaze as soon as she got the chance. Juice stood there frozen in place, his hand lingering in mid air as he tried to process what she said.

Hazel took a deep breath and continued quietly, “I told myself that this life was… Not for me. That I couldn’t handle being an old lady, throwing open the door one night to find another member standing there prepared to tell me that I lost my man. And then you showed up and something happened and I… I couldn’t stop myself from being drawn to you, I… I had to do something.” her voice dropped even lower as she finished saying it, muffled by his shirt as he pulled her close again, arms squeezing her in a tight embrace as he buried his nose in the crown of her hair, breathed in the coconut scent of her shampoo. Hazel went from crying a little to full on sobbing and she couldn’t stop it from happening. Her shoulders were shaking and she was easily soaking right through the front of his wife-beater, leaving black mascara spots behind.

It was enough for him to pull her up his body, hands on her ass to keep a grip on her. He stepped inside his apartment, quickly locking the door behind him, sitting down on the couch after he’d done it. His mouth met hers all over again, hungrily, almost desperately. His grip on her body was that of a man drowning and frantic to seek a lifeline, anything to cling to. When she shifted in his lap to move closer to him, she rubbed herself right against him and his fingertips dug into her ass, squeezing and gripping, making her repeat the rocking against him all over again as the kiss deepened despite the fact that they both needed to breathe. 

Neither of them seemed to be willing to stop, to break the kiss. Hazel, because she was afraid if she did stop, she’d let reasoning and overthinking take over and back out and having done it and finally admitting the way she truly felt, she realized that it was too late and she didn’t want to back out, she wanted to give in to all of this. Juice, because right now, Hazel was literally the one good thing happening and he didn’t want to stop or think, he didn’t want to sit around buried in guilt and anxiety and his own fucked up mind as of late.

The door was being pounded on and both of them froze, pulling away from each other just a little when Jax called through the door, “C’mon Juice. Open up. I heard what happened. I wanna make sure you’re okay.”

“Just go, Teller. I told everybody earlier, I’ve got nothin to say. I don’t fucking wanna talk about this shit.” 

Jax seemed to hesitate, and Juice raised his voice; growing more irritable even though he didn’t mean to. He just had to get Jax the fuck away from the door. He wanted to get back to whatever was happening between himself and Hazel; he’d much prefer to focus on that. Footsteps echoed down the hallway outside and Hazel let out a shaky breath. The little interruption had given her time to come up with an exit strategy but she didn’t want or need one. She wasn’t leaving Juice, not tonight, not like this.

Juice stared at her intently, lost in his own thoughts, trying to process exactly what was happening. Trying to will himself to stop it because there was no way she was ever gonna want to stick around if anything about him came out.

But he couldn’t put a stop to what was happening because he’d wanted it to happen so long now. He couldn’t just put this to a grinding halt, even though given what he was caught up in, that might be the better idea. Not to mention, at the moment, his head wasn’t in the best place and he needed to get himself together.

He didn’t want to, but.. He needed to. Several fucked up elements had combined to bring him to the dark place he’d just narrowly escaped.

… I just need one good thing… I have to let myself have this… This is it, this is my sign, it’s not too late to get outta the situation I’m in… Juice thought to himself desperately as his hands moved slowly up and down her sides in a vain effort to distract himself. All he could do was stare at her, try to wrap his head around everything happening at the moment. “You’re not leavin, right? You’ll… stay.” he managed to ask, stammering the words out as his finger traced carefully over her lips.

Hazel wasted no time going in for another kiss, molding herself against him as she did so. His arms locked in place around her, squeezing tight. His hands drifted up and down her sides and strayed, grabbing a double handful of her ass and squeezing as he sucked in a sharp breath and bucked against her from below. She rocked in place over the way he strained at baggy jeans. 

Every part of her knew that maybe it was a better idea to stop; to return to the moment when Juice’s head was in a better place. But those selfish parts and not being able to control herself or reign in all these feelings currently flooding her, those took control before she could speak up and try to bring things to a stop.

.... I know this isn’t the best time, but I can’t keep fighting the way I feel… I almost lost him, for fucks sake!.... Just gonna let this happen… Just gonna give in because I cannot keep going like I am… the fragmented thought kept Hazel going. “I’m not going anywhere, Juice. I promise.”

She meant exactly what she said. 

Juice eyed her, biting his lower lip as he nodded. “If you wanna stop…” he trailed off, his breath catching in his throat because he didn’t know if he was going to be able to stop now if she said she wanted to. He’d do his best.

Hazel’s response was more non-verbal, rather than answer, she rocked herself back and forth over the bulge twitching and straining harder at the front of his jeans. A needy whimper ripped from her throat and she leaned in, trailing her tongue along the outer edge of his ear as she finally managed to mutter, “Stopping is the last thing on my mind. I need you baby… C’mon. Let me make you feel better, please?”

The growl bubbled up from deep within and his hands tightened where they rested across her ass. He bucked into her all over again, harder and more urgently. His mouth lingered next to the shell of her ear and he mumbled quietly, “You’re gonna make me feel better, hm? I like the sound of that, baby girl.” as he nipped at the edge of her ear and stood, making his way down the short hallway and into his bedroom.

Her back met the mattress and she was sitting up, tugging his tank top up and over his head, her lips moving up and down his abdomen, a soft giggle coming at the way muscles tensed when her mouth moved over them, sending a ripple over the surface of his skin. Juice whimpered quietly, reaching down, pulling apart the front of her favorite plaid shirt. Buttons popped off, softly tapping against the flooring as they made contact. The plaid shirt was tugged away from her body by him, balled up and tossed out into the room behind him as he leaned down and in, his mouth finding her mouth as she leaned back against the bed, working her bra away from her body, tossing that to the side as well as she locked eyes with him, her breath catching in her throat. 

Juice followed her down, positioning himself between her legs as she raised her hands, whining as she went for the button and zip on his jeans. Juice’s fingers caught in the waistband of her jeans, tugging the button fly apart and open, pulling her pants and panties down in one go, a quiet groan coming as she lie there, naked beneath him.

All he could do was stare in awe.

“Fuck.” the word lingered in the air between them, uttered by both at the same time. Hazel’s eyes darted down, fixing on his thick length, standing at attention. When she reached between them, circling her hand around, moving it slowly up and down his length, Juice growled, his mouth attacking her neck hungrily. He gave a needy groan and bucked himself against her as she dragged the tip of his cock between her folds and met his gaze, licking her lips.

“You want it, baby girl? Take it. It’s all yours.” Juice’s voice was a smooth purr against her neck as his mouth roamed over it and then lower, drifting over the swell of her breasts.His hands drifted up her body, squeezing her breasts together, and he bucked himself against her again, sending the tip of his cock between dripping folds, brushing against her aching center. She arched away from the bed, moaning his name into his neck as her teeth latched on, leaving a mark behind when she pulled her mouth away. His tongue flickered out, darting over her nipples, tracing circles in soft flesh until both nipples stood firm. He caught her gaze again, holding it as he sank his cock in just a little deeper, going still when she gasped and her nails dug into his shoulders. He lowered himself closer, hips pinning her hips against the mattress flat and giving a gentle smirk, he muttered quietly against her lips, “Everything alright, baby girl?”

All Hazel could do was whimper and moan as she felt herself almost being split in two by the way his thick cock filled and stretched her out. And he wasn’t even all the way in yet. Just the thought had her digging her nails in a little more, rocking her hips as best as she could almost as soon as the pain started to subside. “I want on top.” she pleaded, her mouth colliding with his all over again, the words swallowed in a bruising and almost desperate and needy kiss. 

Juice stopped his slow and steady drive into her core and pretended to mull it over, finally giving in when she fixed those eyes on him, begging. He flipped them so that he was beneath her and Hazel straddled his hips, wasting no time in impaling herself to the hilt on his cock, rocking her hips back and forth as she rode him, palms flat against his chest. Juice gazed up at her, thrusting into her from below, groaning and growling, “C’mon, baby girl. Ride me.. Fuck.” 

Her hands caught hold of his, pinning them against the pillow and Juice growled, writhing beneath her, raising up slightly, his teeth sinking into any strip of bare flesh within his reach. “Feels so good baby girl. So good.” he mumbled softly against her skin, encouraging her to go faster, pleading with her to let go of his hands so he could put them all over her body again. Hazel only shook her head and leaned down, whispering against the outside of his ear, “Just let me take care of you,Juice.”

“C’mon baby girl. Take it.” Juice muttered as he relaxed, staring up at her in a lust filled daze, his teeth clenching his lower lip as he bucked into her from below. “Wanna touch you so bad. C’mon, let me have my hands.”

When Hazel let go of his hands, they were all over her, squeezing her tits together as he rose up slightly, burying his face between soft mounds, dancing his tongue over her nipples. She shivered, riding his cock faster, rocking her hips back and forth erratically. Juice felt her tensing a little and he chuckled quietly against soft skin, glancing up at her. “You gonna cum for me?”

Hazel moaned, her head falling back as she rode him harder and faster, bouncing up and down on his cock, getting wetter every single time his cock sank in deeper and brushed right against her aching G-spot. “Fuck, fuck.. Feels so… ugh so good.” 

“Easy.. whoa.” Juice’s hands gripped her hips tight, stilling her movements as he felt himself getting pushed closer and closer to his own orgasm. His whispered warning was met with a pout and Hazel, trying to rock her hips just a little more, blinded by the way her own orgasm was building and almost taking over. The wet sounds of his cock sinking deep into her cunt had him taking a deep breath and raising up, gripping her jaw, guiding her mouth back against his as he muttered against it, “Fuck, baby girl. Gettin so wet for me. Feels too good to stop, huh?”

“Y-yeah.” Hazel’s hands rested on his shoulders, her nails digging in lightly as she bounced up and down on his cock a little slower, the ache of an orgasm denied building just a little more. “Juice, fuck, please. C’mon baby.. I need it.”

“You need what, huh?” his breath was warm against her ear almost tickling. She shivered at the way his lips felt against her skin and her head fell back as her fingertips dug into his shoulders just a little more. “Need you.” she finally managed to gasp, locking eyes with him, a pleading look in her eyes. He answered quickly, no hesitation, “You got me, baby girl. I’m all yours.”

Maybe it wasn’t the best idea. When everything came to light, she might just hate him. But right now, he wasn’t thinking. He didn’t want to think. He didn’t want to feel anything but what he was feeling right now, with her. He wanted to forget. To escape.

“I’m all yours.” Hazel’s mouth brushed against his neck as he pulled her closer, letting her cling to him as he pumped himself up into her from below. His hands gripped her ass, slamming her up and down on his cock, deeper and harder. He felt her tense around him as he kept hitting that same spot over and over, her whimpers and moans drowning out all the other noise in the room. She kept moaning his name, over and over and Juice coaxed quietly against her skin, “C’mon Haze.. Ride it out, baby girl. Take it.”  as he continued to slam her up and down, his fingerprints beginning to leave marks behind on her ass. Her walls clenched his cock tighter, coating it in the warmth of her juices and he slowed a little more, trying to keep himself from getting off, letting himself feel the way she took his cock. His teeth sank into the side of her neck, catching, scraping over soft skin and leaving a mark there and he muttered her name over and over like a mantra, because it was.. She was pretty much the only thing he wanted to think about right now.

Everything else could and was going to wait.

As she came down from her orgasm, he held her tight against him, slamming her up and down on his cock slow and hard. “Fuck. You take it so good, baby girl.” he groaned as his own orgasm tore through him and he fucked through it, too late to stop or pull out. Hazel pulled his mouth against hers greedily, her tongue dominating the kiss as she bounced up and down on his cock, digging her nails into his shoulders and raking them down his back. 

He collapsed against the mattress and pulled her down against him, arms wrapping around her as he pressed his lips against her forehead. Her lips trailed over the faint bruises left behind around his neck as she mumbled softly against his skin, “Please don’t ever do that.. I’m right here, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

He tilted her chin, pulling her into another deep and desperate kiss muttering quietly into it, “I don’t even wanna think about that night, okay? I… I can’t.” and Hazel nodded, staring at him a few seconds before settling and molding herself against him, letting the beat of his heart begin to lull her to sleep.

He was here; he was alive and he knew how she really felt. Nothing else mattered.

[thisonesforfanfic]

Light in the Dark (3/?)

Bucky x Reader

A/N: I do not know which warnings I should put on this, if you feel like any is needed, please let me know. 

Summary: Steve and Bucky come back earlier than expected to meet you, bearing some very unpleasent news

Word Count: 1.8K

In front of a narrow apartment building, Bucky took in the sight of the tall black door, the worn out steps leading to it, and the bright red brick wall holding it all together. Standing next to his best friend, he was hesitant to go in, he knew he was bearing too much on his shoulders, and he was terrified of whatever was coming next. He took a deep breath and analyzed the sight again before ringing the bell.

---

You were awaken by the noise coming from the door. Taking care of the bar without Y/B/N was taking a huge toll on your sleep schedule, you waited for another bell, in the hopes you were just still dreaming and could go back to resting. As it rang again, you got up to realize you were still wearing the same knee high skirt and black shirt from yesterday's shift, shaking your head at yourself for not even being able to have changed. You stumbled down the steps barefoot, rubbing your eyes as you opened the door.

"Steve? James? What are you doing here? I thought you were arriving next week" their blank expressions made you confused at first "Where's Y/B/N? Is he coming on a different train or something?"

"Y/N, he..." You didn't to let Steve finish, still a little confused.

"It's okay, I'll just go get changed and we can go to the station-"

"Doll, please" Bucky's eyes were trying to find yours,  begging for you to look at him as he talked to you. You spotted the telegram on his hands, you couldn't take your eyes off it "listen to us" you wouldn't, you knew the dreadful words they wanted to deliver.

"No, he's on his way, come on in, I'll be quick" you turned around, to go back inside, but you felt a grip on your wrist, holding you in place.

"We thought we had be the ones to tell you Y/N" Steve held you as you tried to get rid of his grip desperately, what led him to pull you closer, not letting you move.

"Don't! He's coming back" you shouted as you punched the super soldier's iron chest, as hard as you possibly could, your hand ached but you kept doing it.

Steve held you, letting you punch him on the chest as the realization of what it all was kicked in. The punches quickly lost strengh, giving place to a painful cry " I... need him... -here"

Bucky wanted to hold you, comfort you, make everything alright, but he had no idea how, he didn't know how hard it would be for him to see you cry like that, after your cry turned into sniffs and uneven breathing, he managed to say something.

"Doll, please, let us help you" You nodded as you let go of Steve and led them in, Bucky put a comforting hand on your back. He was heartbroken, he knew you'd be hurt, but he didn't expect to be so sad at the sight

"Y/N, your brother was helping us free soldiers being held captive on a Hydra base" Steve was battling his words, he knew it was his duty to say what happened, but both of them didn't want to see you suffer. "He sacrificed himself so we could lead everyone out of there"

"I tried to get him out" Bucky said softly, as you entered the small kitchen, they took their places around the table in front of you, but no one dared to sit "He shoved me away.... a- and gave me this" He was hesitant to open his hand, he knew what it meant to you. Your mom's necklace, you had given it to Y/B/N as a good luck charm, as he had given the knife to you.

"She gave it to me before she ran back to the house.... To keep them a-, to stall... so we could be free" You took the necklace, a thin black chain with a light blue rose pendant, holding it close to your heart, you felt the tears stream down your face

"This isn't really  happening, is it?" You stopped by the window, turning to the men standing in front of you. Looking for any sign that it was all a dream, but they seemed just as devastaded as you were "He'd never... leave me" you felt your knees give in, and almost instantly, two arms wrapping around you before you hit the ground.

"He wanted you to be protected, we are here to do just that" Bucky kissed your forehead and you burried your face on his neck, sobbing, not even his comforting embrace was helping you now.

"I want t- them... ba -ck" You could barely speak "I- I don't want to be alone, don't.. leave"

"Y/N, we are not going anywhere" you felt Steve's arm on your back as he whispered to you "we are here for you"

He offered to brew some tea, and you nodded. Bucky lifted you up, holding you tight, making his way to the narrow living room, he sat down on the beat up couch, not letting his grip on you loosen. You kept your head burried on his shoulders, afraid of him vanishing if you looked up.

Steve joined you after a while with the kettle and mugs, though it still took you a few minutes to calm down enough to even be able to see anything through the tears. You didn't want to open your eyes though, face the tiny room knowing he wouldn't be there anymore, Y/B/N wouldn't tickle you whenever you sat on your father's old chair before he could reach it, getting home late after a tiring night at the bar and falling asleep at eachother's lap on this couch. He was your only family.

"Please doll, drink some" Steve poured the cammomile tea to a mug, and handed it out to you "it will help you feel a little better" he insisted as you didn't let go of Bucky's shirt.

Bucky took the mug from Steve and whispered in your ear "You know... Y/B/N sacrificed so you could at least have at least us" he let his arms around you loosen so he could look into your Y/E/C eyes, those blue marbels staring at you, just trying to figure out how to take the pain away "I know is not what you wanted, but he wouldn't like it seeing you this way" He brushed the hair strands off your face, putting it behind your ear "please drink"

You couldn't deny him that, what Bucky was saying was right, Y/B/N wouldn't want you to be sad like that, just like you helped him when your father passed. Death wasn't meant to be sad, but a way to remember what a person did when they lived, how good and how bad some decisions were, the sacrifices they did and most of all what they tought us. But it was just too soon for him.

You took the cup and sipped on the warm tea "thank you" you looked over at Steve with guilt in your eyes "sorry I hit you, I shouldn't have"

"You are hurt" He put his hands on your knees "We all are, this is not easy, but you should know we really are here for you, right Buck?"

"Yeah doll, let's drink our tea and once we are done we can go for a walk, make lunch, whatever you feel like"

"I- I wanna hear about him... Is that okay?" you looked at their surprised and yet confused faces "I want to hear about his bravery" you pleaded as Steve looked down at his mug, with his shoulders shruged

Seeing his friend was uncomfortable, somehow feeling guilty for Y/B/N's death. Bucky quickly intervined

"How about this: I'll tell you everything that happened these past few days, and Steve can go to the store so we can make lunch" He saw the immediate relief of weight on his friend's shoulders and a hint of a smile on your lips as you sipped again on the mug.

As Steve left, Bucky told you all about the places they had seen, the beautiful, movie like sceneries, your brother's jokes, how good he was at sneaking in everywhere, and how his aim saved Bucky at least three times. After he told the stories, you kept staring at his eyes, as if asking for him to keep going, but when you realized there wasn't anymore good parts on them, you broke the silence

"Thanks James" a fragile smile on your lips. You were feeling a lot lighter “I needed that”

"Why are you so persistent in not calling me Bucky?" He said with a grin, coming closer to you. You just now realized how close your face was to his, still with your legs over his and his arm around your waist, you noticed how good that felt. Looking at him, feeling his soft touch and warm breath, that smile.

Shit

You pulled away as you heard Steve opening the door, turning red and making Bucky chuckle

"Just don't punch my teeth out, doll" he whispered in your ear, then got up to help Steve

You got up right after, and excused yourself to take a shower while they prepared some sandwiches.

There were just too many thoughts racing through your head: his death, his sacrifice, the bar, the work you'd have to double, going back to war without Y/B/N, staying here alone, and... Bucky.

All those nights staring at the nightsky by his side, and the moment you had on the sofa made you fall so hard for him, but you were scared to admit it, he probably flirted with you just for fun, but you loved it.

"Is everything alright in there doll?" His voice snapped you back to reality "You've been there for a while, and I will definetly break this door down if need be"

"I'm fine James" Although a part of you realy wanted him in there with you

"Alright, take your time doll... We are very hungry though" you laughed quietly "so we'd really appreciate if you grace us with your company to eat"

Wrapped in nothing but a towel, with your wet hair over your shoulders, you opened the door to find a Bucky paralized by the sight

"Can your hunger wait for me to change?" you whispered in a playful voice.

Not being able to find words, he just nodded and stepped back for you to walk to your bedroom. You decided to put on a white shirt from Y/B/N, feeling his scent made you a little more comfortable. It was pretty large, though, so you tucked it into your grey skirt before going back out to eat something. The three remained silent for a while, Bucky and Steve were really that hungry, and you just didn't want to talk.

"I really want to thank you two" you looked at the men after the sandwiches were gone

"You don't have to doll" Steve was sincere

"I really do" you frowned your face "I can't even begin to imagine the trouble you went through just to be the ones to deliver the news"

"Well you are right about that" Bucky’s lips , lightening the mood imensly "since we are going to be in big trouble, you could at least pour us those drinks like promised"

“It’s the least I can do” you were numbed with the whole situation, but their company made it easier to bear. Their worry showed you that you’d never truly be alone.

#############

Thanks for reading!

[yukiwrites]

A Retelling of Their Story

Thanks for the support as always, @breeachuu! This one was so fun to write, I hope you have as much fun reading it, too! ;D This is a Support Chain between Wolfram x Caspar, and you can read more about how they got acquainted in Wolfram’s series, right >here<!

Commission info HERE and HERE!

______________________________

C SUPPORT

Wolfram, crouching: ...

Caspar: Huh? Isn’t that the new kid? What’s he doing all hunched over like that? Heeey, are you alright? You’re shaking- WHOA, that’s a hell lotta cats! How did you manage to round up so many?!

Wolfram: *sobs*

Caspar, crouching: Uh, you alright there, buddy? These cats scratched you?

Wolfram: N-no, it’s just… I don’t have e-enough *sobs* enough hands to pet them all!

Caspar: *chokes* Yeah? There’re like a dozen cats here, of course you can’t pet all of them!

Wolfram: Yes…! They’re all so cute, don’t you agree? Look, that one has a spot right in the middle of its forehead… I want to pet it… And that other one?! His mew is so soft I just want to squeeze him until, until… And that one with the crooked tail? I can’t- it’s so cute-

Caspar: Alright, lemme give you a hand in all this petting, then! FOUR HANDS NOW, BABEY!

Wolfram: !! Oh, don’t yell like that, you’re gonna startle them-

Caspar: Ick, they all turned poofy-tailed on me, did I do somethin’? The dogs all wag their tails when I pet them...

Wolfram: *chuckles* You can’t yell at a cat, they’re really sensitive to loud noises. Here, why don’t you try this one that’s been sitting quietly on my lap? She’s a bit older than the others so she’s better for beginners to handle.

Caspar: Oh, wow, you’re right! She’s so soft and she’s just snuggling in my lap now! You know your stuff ‘round cats, huh? Oh, maybe ‘bout animals in general? You’re always taking care of that wyvern you showed up with.

Wolfram: Heehee, yeah, I love being with animals. My fath-uuhh, I think it makes me feel at home for some reason. Maybe I kept a lot of pets when I was young? It soothes me.

Caspar: Oh yeah, guess that must be it. 

Caspar: That’s it, then! Let’s keep pettin’ these boys ‘til you regain your memory! SOME of it has GOTTA come back after all that petting, yeah?!

Wolfram: *sweats* hahaha… I-I guess? Sure! I won’t say no to petting kittens!

Caspar: Great!

Caspar: But you just said this ol’ lady here isn’t a baby, right-

Wolfram: Look, all cats are kittens, okay? That’s a rule! Like all dogs are puppies!

B SUPPORT

Wolfram: Phew! There, now you’re all clean, Aquilo! Thanks for being so patient, boy!

Wyvern screeches

Wolfram: Hee-hee, no need to thank me! Now up you go, if you wanna go hunt for breakfast- wait, it’s this late already?! No wonder I’m starving! Then go on hunt your lunch, Aquilo! I’ll drop by the dining hall before I start seeing double from hunger!

Scene changes

Wolfram: Hm? What’s… that noise coming from the direction of the dining hall?

???: … -o, GO, GO!!

Wolfram: That sounds like a lot of people yelling… something? I don’t feel any danger, so I wonder what is it?

???: GO, GO!! WOOHOO!

Wolfram: …

Wolfram: … I’m so curious! I’ll go see it before getting something to eat!

Scene changes

Wolfram: Whoa! That’s a lot of people! Wh-what’s going on? They’re all making a circle like they’re watching something in the middle… Oh, wait, I can get on the tip of my toes and… *gasps* Caspar?! And, uh, Leonie? Hilda? Raphael…? What’s all- why is there a giant bucket of water...

Caspar: Vor- blughrt, vor vug’s *sputter* *cough* Dammit! I almost had it!

Hilda: Annnd we have a winner! Leonie retains her title as the champion, even though we didn’t have the crackers we were supposed to since Raphael ate them all!

???: WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHOOOO!!!

Raphael: It was a waste of food, alright? But congrats everyone! It was fun!

Caspar: ONE MORE TIME!

Wolfram: W-what’s going on?! I managed to walk past the crowd, but now that I look closer, all of your shirts are wet...

Caspar: Oh, Wolf! Good timing! D’you wanna challenge Leonie with me? She’s the only one who can say ���for fuck’s sake’ with a mouth full of water -- or crackers -- without spilling! She’s the BOSS!

Wolfram: *sputters* W-what’s this about?

Caspar: A game, man! C’mon, it’s gonna be fun! We were supposed to do this with crackers and it gets so nasty, it’s HILARIOUS! We’ve been doing this every three weeks or so and Leonie keeps defending her title as the champion!

Leonie: I’m actually glad we changed from crackers to water, though. It really DID feel like a waste of food.

Raphael: Yeah!

Wolfram: *chuckles* This sounds super fun, can I play, too? There was nothing like this where I grew up- um, I mean, I think there wasn’t!

Caspar: Great! Either way, it’s gonna be a new memory! C’mon, I’ll teach you-

Wolfram: Learning from the one who just lost? Shouldn’t I ask Leonie to teach me instead?

Caspar: *gasps* You gotta stay by me, man! Let’s defeat her together!!

Scene fades to black

Wolfram: Bor bu- *gulps* Oh, no! I swallowed the water again!

Caspar: NOO! Let’s go back to crackers!

Leonie & Raphael: No way!

Wolfram: Hahah! It’s okay, Caspar, sorry I lost on our rematch, anyway! Though I don’t think I had the best teacher...

Caspar: Hey! My technique is flawless, okay?! Leonie’s the one doing something out of this world! I’m gonna find out what and I’ll win next time!

Leonie: Sure, you’re free to try, Tiny. See ya then.

Leonie and the others leave

Wolfram: Phew, that sure was fun! Somehow I managed to forget how hungry I was, haha! Guess all that water in my stomach tricked me.

Caspar: We’ll win next time for sure, ya hear? C’mon, let’s go eat something and then keep training!

Wolfram: Uh, training how to curse with water in my mouth?! Can’t we just wing it when the time comes?

Caspar: No way! We’re getting better before Leonie has the time to train more!

Wolfram: … I’m sure she just wings it, too, though…?

Caspar: Huh? What’re you doing still standing there? C’mon or we’re not gonna find two seats next to each other!

Wolfram: Haha, alright, I’m coming!

A SUPPORT (POST SKIP)

Caspar: Ouch, they, that stings, Wolfram!

Wolfram: Honestly! Of course it stings, you hotheaded, you-! If I had stronger medicine around, I would be sure to use it instead of this salve just so it would sting more!

Caspar: Owowow, you’re squeezing the bandages! It’s like I’m being beat-up all over again, man, calm down!

Wolfram: I AM calm! But you? What were you thinking, jumping in front of the enemy in the middle of battle like that?! I almost had a heart attack seeing you take those blows that were meant for me.

Caspar: You weren’t on your wyvern, man! I wasn’t gonna let you be mauled to death by those punks. You’re so thin and usually use magic, so I know I’m a better punching bag than you -- and I can punch back, too! Did you see me there? Hah, left, right, UPPERCUT! I beat them even more than they beat me, so it ended up being fine, didn’t it?

Wolfram, pouting: That might be true, but don’t do that again, okay? I can take a punch. And I don’t want people to get hurt because of me...

Caspar: No way! Back at the Academy you were always shaking and blue-in-the-face whenever we went on a mission! That stuck on me, man. I don’t mind breaking a bone or three, so you don’t need to get all panicky like that everytime I get hurt, you know? Did you know that the more a bone breaks, the stronger it gets? So even when I get hurt, I’m just gonna get stronger in the end!

Caspar: So don’t worry and just let me-

Wolfram: NO!

Caspar: !!

Wolfram: I don’t want the people I care about to get hurt! And I AM strong enough to protect myself!

Caspar: I’m not calling you weak -- I’m just sayin’ I’m strong! I’m not as big as Raphael and my muscles don’t pop up the buttons of my shirt, but I ain’t going down that easily. There’s literally no need to be this worried for me.

Wolfram, lowering head: I… There was actually something I’ve always wanted to tell you, even during our student days. I was planning to tell you after today’s battle, but then you did this stupid thing and- and now I’m… *sobs*

Caspar: Whoa whoa whoa there, d-don’t cry, Wolf! I’m fine, see? Look at this! *flexes* uh-ouch, ouch- that might’ve popped a vein...

Wolfram: *chokes* You are an idiot. *sniffles* Let me see that.

Caspar: I keep forgetting you know healing magic. Thanks again!

Wolfram: … No, Caspar. Thank YOU for saving me. I’m still angry at you for jumping in like that, but I’m no less grateful for the gesture.

Caspar: No problem, Wolf. I’d do it again, though, so you better get used to the anger, hah!

Wolfram: *sighs* I wanted to say this in a better mood, but here goes nothing.

Caspar: Huh? That’s… Oh, that’s the locket you’ve kept since back then, right? You said it was probably important to you before you lost your memory.

Wolfram: That’s… About that, Caspar. I’m sorry.

Caspar: Weh? What’re you apologizin’ for?

Wolfram: I… well… I never… *sighs* I never lost my memory in the first place. That was an elaborate story me and my siblings came up with so I would be able to mingle better here, since I knew nothing of this place.

Caspar, surprised: ...

Wolfram: And, uh, this locket? It has my most precious possession -- a dragonstone. It allows me to transform and…

Screen flashes white.

Caspar: *blinks* Wh-what happened- !! You-!

Wolfram: … There might’ve been better ways to say, but I think showing it directly would be easier than explaining. Although this is a VERY roundabout way of saying it, what I’m trying to say -- apart from the truth, of course -- is that I can very well take care of myself and that you don’t need to jump into danger to save-

Caspar: YOU HAVE WINGS?! 

Wolfram: !!

Caspar: YOU HAVE WINGS, MAN! Turn around, lemme see ‘em! Whooooa, why didn’t you tell me this sooner?! We could’ve gone to SO MANY PLACES so fast! Sure, we flew on Aquilo sometimes, but this?! This is amazing!

Wolfram: … Um, uh-

Caspar: I don’t get why you’d keep quiet ‘bout something as cool and badass like that! You’re, like, a dragon?! Half a dragon? What. The. Fuck. 

Caspar: How far can you fly? Can I get on Aquilo while you fly beside us? Oh! Maybe carry me?! What the hell, man, this is amazing.

Wolfram: You’re, um, not mad?

Caspar: Mad? Mad?! Yeah, I’m mad! I’m MAD AMAZED! Now you gotta tell me so much stuff- no, wait, show them to me instead! C’mon, we’re going flying right now-

Wolfram: Now wait just a moment, mister! You’re not leaving this bed!

Caspar: To hell with the bed, Wolf! Throw some more healing magic on me, or don’t! We’re gonna go outside, stat!

Wolfram: C-Caspar, wait- Don’t run! You’re gonna open your wouuuunds!!

S SUPPORT

Caspar: Puaah! Nothing like a good beer at night to scream ‘peace’, ey, Wolf?

Wolfram: *fidgets* Haha, yeah… Peace… We’ve truly won this war, huh? Byleth’s gonna live her life with Dimitri and… My role here...

Caspar: Huh? You’re mumbling there, Wolf. You okay? I thought you’d be happier ‘bout ending the fighting and stuff! You never liked it, right?

Caspar: It was fun, though, wasn’t it? Hahh, I guess I gotta go looking for more fights to get into, huh? Maybe a knight? Hmmm, or mercenary? I don’t gotta go back to my territory, but I guess I should pay Dad a visit before disappearing, huh?

Wolfram: Disappearing...

Caspar: Oh, do you wanna come with? Since you’re not from here, it’s not like you have somewhere to go right away, right?

Wolfram: !! 

Wolfram: A-actually, I was going to ask you something like that, too...

Caspar: Muh? You want me to meet your dad, too?

Wolfram: T-that… well. Something l-like that, yes? And my Mother, too. And my siblings. And my friends.

Caspar: Haha! That’s a lotta people you wanna introduce to me! But sure, I’m game! We go visit my parents first for a bit and then we can go to your world- oh yeah, how are we gonna cross? You said you popped outta a portal like the one Byleth jumped out of after she changed her hair color, right? Are we gonna ask her to open another one? Or can you conjure one?

Wolfram: Um, we’re going to cross one, but it’s gonna come on its own- Wait a second. Wait just a freaking second. You’re really okay with coming with me to my world?! What if the portal never opens again? You’ll never see your family-

Caspar: Eh. About time I left to do my own stuff, yeah? I wasn’t actually planning on seeing them at all -- my Father’s fucking SCARY, Wolf -- but I just guessed I gotta, y’know? I helped win the war and all… They’re from the Empire, alright, but I think they’ll be just fine one way or another, so I’m good!

Caspar: Other than that, I’m more curious about the stuff you said ‘bout your world! Your WHOLE family’s like you, right? Dragons, man. Dragons!

Wolfram: C-Caspar, wait, you’re talking too fast. Calm down. I need a few moments.

Caspar: Yeah? What’s up?

Wolfram: Fwoooo, breathe in, hahhhh, breathe out. Fwwwoooooo… hahhhh… One more time.

Caspar: You okay, man? What’s this all about?

Wolfram: Caspar.

Caspar: Hm?

Wolfram: Cassspar.

Caspar: Spit it out, Wolf! Stop saying my name like that!

Wolfram: You REALLY don’t get the implications of accepting coming with me to my world, do you? At all?

Caspar: Implications? I’m gonna meet your family, like you’re gonna meet mine.

Wolfram: *sighs* You’re an idiot.

Caspar: I mean, you’re not gonna catch me saying I’m not, but what brought that on? Did I do something?

Wolfram: *fidgeting* How did you plan on introducing me to your family?

Caspar: My partner, of course!

Wolfram: *chokes* Partner-

Caspar: Aren’t we?! We’re unstoppable- wait, your hands on my face-mmpph!

Wolfram: ...

Caspar: mmph… That- that was a kiss. Did you- did you just kiss me.

Wolfram: … Yes, you idiot.

Caspar: *claps* AH! So it’s THAT kind of introducing to the family! I get it now! Hahaha!

Caspar, blushing: Oh, now I’m getting embarrassed, hah! Gods, I don’t think I know what to say now, especially after accepting everything without knowing what it all meant!

Wolfram: … Do you regret it?

Caspar: Hell no! C’mere you, and give me more of that! Mmmm!

Wolfram: Mmph! Y-you-

Caspar: Puahah! Turns out kissing you is WAY better than drinking the night away! Give me more!

Wolfram, blushing: A-anytime you want, of course, but- are you really okay with me? With… all of this?

Caspar: Hah! Do I look like I think too much? What matters is that we’re gonna be together, Wolf. And man, it took you to kiss me to realize how much I love being with you! Heck, I love YOU!

Wolfram: *sniffles* Oh, Caspar… I love you, too...

Caspar: Haha! Now bring those lips here...

Wolfram: So hasty...

[eleanor-writes-stuff]

through thick and thin (you were always on my mind) [one-shot]

Hollywood power couple Rey and Ben's break-up sets off a chain of events chronicled through a series of headlines. Two and a half years later, they find their way back to each other.

This one’s a bit experimental. I wanted to write a Hollywood AU that spans more than three years, covers all the familiar beats from Ben’s first fall to the dark side all the way to his redemption, and captures more than just the Reylo aspect of things. In the end, I settled on telling the story through a series of headlines and article blurbs - and then wrote a one-shot to go along with the eleventh headline.

So if you’re into Hollywood AUs, exes getting back together, painfully public disasters, and/or Reylo, here’s a story for you.

Also available on AO3. And hey, maybe check out my Twitter or Ko-fi?

. . .

“Hey, Ren! Ren, over here!”

“Mr. Solo, is it true that you and Snoke are no longer on speaking terms?”

“Ben, are you here for Rey?”

It’s that last question that stands out amidst a veritable cacophony, that rings in her ears as Rey turns to find herself face-to-face with the man she once knew as Ben Solo.

She’s not ready for this. It’s been barely two minutes since the first shriek of his name reached her ears, more than two years since she woke up to find his side of the bed cold, and she is not ready for this. Especially not with him looking at her like that, not with him blocking out the rest of the world with his broad frame, his shoulders slightly hunched as he curls over her and his eyes resolutely fixed on hers even as they reflect the absolute loss she sees on his face as he struggles to find his voice.

“What you said–” Ben, Kylo, Ben forces out in one breath, throat working and jaw clenched and fingers curled close to his sides, all the signs she’s more than familiar with, all the signs she should’ve forgotten by now–

The last time Rey heard his voice was four days after Christmas; the last thing he ever said to her was goodnight, sweetheart as he gathered her to his chest and held her painfully close, and Rey had laughed and teasingly assured him that she wasn’t going anywhere and cuddled even closer.

In the morning he was gone, and now he’s here and he’s looking at her with the same eyes that never avoided hers, not until those last few days, and he’s speaking with the same voice that once promised to never abandon her, not until the day I die and maybe not even then–

“Ben,” she cuts him off with a broken whisper, clears her throat and fights back tears and tries again. “Kylo. What are you doing here?”

He flinches when she calls him Kylo, even though she’s read a dozen insider reports about how he snaps at anyone who makes the mistake of using his old name.

“What you said, about spending your life with me–”

A fresh wave of tears hit her then, and she is powerless to stop them as she shakes her head at him and takes a stumbling step backward in a pathetic attempt to remind herself of the space between them.

“That was a different lifetime, Kylo,” she reminds him pointedly, voice thick with sorrow even as she keeps her head held high and brings one hand to her face to roughly swipe at her tears. He might still be, after all these years, the biggest man she’s ever known, but even Ben’s impossibly broad frame can’t hide her from hundreds of cameras and thousands of onlookers, all uncharacteristically silent as they strain their ears to catch a snippet of this unexpected reunion.

This isn’t how Rey imagined it would go, not that she’s ever admitted to imagining – or even thinking, or hoping for – a reunion. She’d made that mistake once in her childhood, held out hope for people who couldn’t be bothered to stick around, much less come back. Two days into the new year, when it finally sank in that Ben really was gone for good, she’d sworn never to make that mistake again, never to get her hopes up again–

And here she is anyway, too foolish and weak and hopeful to turn her back on this man and walk away from him the way he did to her, the way she knows she should.

He closes his eyes, and when he opens them again Rey can’t tell if they’re as shiny as hers or if her tears are distorting her vision. “Why… why didn’t you tell me?” Ben asks in the same quiet, secret voice he once used to whisper sweet nothings and empty promises into her ear.

Sweet nothings and empty promises and not even a goodbye. Rey thinks of how cold the bed had been that morning, how empty the house, how dark and dreary the skies, and all of that she lets bleed into her voice when she asks, “Would it have changed anything?”

She won’t break. She won’t, she can’t, she shouldn’t after all this time and all the nights she’s cried herself to sleep and all that he’s put between them–

But then Ben whispers, “Everything,” and there’s no holding back the sob that rips past her lips, the wound she still carries with her after all this time, was it me was it something I did wrong was there anything I could have done–

A hand, warm and familiar and so, so gentle, curls around her wrist as his thumb sweeps up and down the sensitive skin there, soothing her erratic pulse. “It felt… it felt like everyone was keeping me at arm’s length, but you… you hurt the most of all. If I’d just known–”

“I thought you did,” Rey protests weakly. How could he not have known, how could he not have figured it out when she opened her arms and her home and her heart to him, when she chose to love him even though it was the most terrifying, dangerous thing she’d ever done? “Ben, you were everything to me, how could you not… If you’d just talked to me,” she cries, a low, mournful tone at the thought of what-ifs and if-onlys.

“I wish I had, Rey,” he sighs, and she watches as he runs his free hand through his hair, tugs at the edges in frustration the way she still vividly remembers him doing all the time– “More than anything in the world, I wish I had.”

And in his eyes she sees pain and loss matched only by her own, a familiar sight that haunts her even two years later. When his hold on her wrist loosens, when it seems as if he might leave again, Rey does what she wishes she’d had the chance to do the first time around.

She throws her arms around his neck and holds him in place, yanks his lips down to hers and makes him stay. There’s a roaring in her ears that might be blood but is probably the crowd going wild, there’s fireworks blooming against the back of her eyelids that might be a thousand cameras going off but is probably just Ben.

When Rey finally pulls away, he’s holding her as close as he had on their last night, maybe closer still. And all these years later he still looks at her like she’s a wonder to behold, like she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

Rey allows herself a smile at the thought, at the warmth that unfurls in her chest. “Would you… do you wanna get out of here and just… talk?”

Ben’s fingers dig into the small of her back; he’s so close he can’t even look at her as he speaks, just dips his head and brushes his lips against the shell of her ear. “But it’s your premiere–”

“Eh,” she shrugs, hides her face in his neck and presses a smile to his skin. “It’s just another summer blockbuster. They’re a dime a dozen, I hear,” she reminds him teasingly, softens the blow with a kiss to his throat.

He lets go just enough to look down at her, gives her that bashful smile she still remembers from the very first time he asked if she’d like to hang out in his trailer between scenes.

“I didn’t mean–”

Rey shakes her head, leans in to silence him with a quick kiss. “There’ll be time for that later. Follow me?”

“Always,” Ben vows, and they leave the red carpet hand-in-hand.

. . . 

Across the street from the Coruscant Theater, safely hidden away in Maz’s diner, Rey smiles to herself as Ben rattles off their shared order, still burned into his mind all these years later. 

When he turns back and finds her beaming at him, he responds with a little grin of his own and an upturned palm on the table. Rey reaches for his hand without hesitation, laces their fingers together and revels in the familiar comfort of it all.

They’re silent for the longest time, lost in each other’s eyes like grinning fools until Ben clears his throat and glances away for a moment, arranges his thoughts and turns back to her with a straight face.

“Do you remember the sequel Luke and I worked on? The one for his old trilogy?”

How can she forget, when they spent their first unofficial date in his trailer talking about it for three hours? Ben, previously so distant and shy, had opened up to her like a flower blooming for the sun that night, shared an entire childhood’s worth of memories and laughter and mistakes over leftovers from craft services.

“Across the Stars,” Rey nods, her lips twitching with fondness when Ben seems surprised by her memory of it. “You two wrote it when you were fifteen, when your parents sent you to live with him one summer.”

“And then I spent half my life editing and work-shopping it,” Ben admits, the first she’s ever heard of this. They’d been together for four years, surely she would have noticed– but then again, they’d kept separate offices even after they moved in together, just to avoid any mix-ups with their respective mountains of scripts, and Ben was always in his whenever she’d video-call him on location, hard at work on something she’d always assumed to be acting-related.

“Two months before…” he falters even as her shoulders tense, as she waits to see what he’ll call it. “Two months before,” Ben repeats and leaves it at that, “I finally worked up the nerve to show it to him… and he… he laughed me off.”

His grip on her grows tighter, but not unbearably so, and Rey aches for him, for her Ben who’s so sensitive and self-conscious about his work that he refuses to watch any of his movies, that he ducks his head and curls into himself whenever anyone mentions a performance.

“He didn’t even bother to read it, said I should’ve given up on it a long time ago, that he never had any intention of actually making a sequel.”

“Oh, Ben–”

He shakes his head, squeezes her hand. “I went to my mom after that, thinking maybe I could get her to talk to Luke, just talk to him and get him to at least look at the script. But she turned me away like she’s always done, too scared of even the smallest hint of nepotism.”

Ben isn’t the first troubled actor to come from the Skywalker family, Rey knows; the twins had gone through their own ups and downs, especially Leia who’d only just managed to distance herself from her film royalty parents when her biological parentage was revealed. The media had accused her of everything from using her family name to blackmailing Anakin’s associates to secure roles, and even though decades have passed Rey knows the older woman still carries that experience with her.

“She was just trying to protect you,” she points out to Ben, careful to keep her tone gentle and neutral. “She never wanted you to go through what she did–”

“All her protection has ever done is hurt me,” Ben mutters, and Rey finds herself at a loss when he pulls his hand away and retreats from her, leans back against his side of the booth while the waiter brings them their order.

Rey lets that conversation die, follows Ben’s lead when he tucks into his pancakes; they’ve gotten their usual after-premiere breakfast for dinner, a tradition established when he’d finally, officially asked her out after the premiere of the movie that had brought them together in the first place. Minutes pass in a busy silence until Rey can’t help it anymore, until even all the pancake she’s stuffed into her mouth can’t keep the question from her lips.

“Why me?” she asks, letting her fork go with a clatter. “I get why you needed space from Leia and Luke, but why me, Ben? One minute I thought you were going to propose, and the next–”

“How did you know?” Ben asks, eyes wide and lips parted in shock.

“I found the ring in your sock drawer,” Rey admits, and throws in an unapologetic shrug for good measure when he simply blinks at her. “What? I was freezing and you always had warmer socks.”

He smiles fondly at the reminder and finally leans back into the conversation, elbows planted on the table. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Rey worries her lower lip, thinks would it have changed anything and wonders just how different their lives might have been if she’d just put on the damn ring and waited for him at the door with a firm yes that night the way she’d wanted to. But instead– “I didn’t want to ruin it, so I waited. And waited. Then Christmas came and went so I thought, maybe he’s waiting for New Year’s–”

“I was going to ask on Christmas Eve,” Ben reveals softly, not quite meeting her eye.

She reaches across the table, takes both his hands in hers and waits until he looks at her to speak. “Why didn’t you? You know I would’ve said yes, Ben, you know I would’ve stuck with you no matter what, even with the whole mess with the twins, even if you never spoke to them again–”

Ben shakes his head. “I know how close you are with my family, I didn’t want to make you pick sides–”

“I would’ve picked you,” Rey whispers. “I will always pick you.”

He takes a shaky breath, lips trembling and shoulders tense. “I was so…” One hand twitches in hers, and she knows he’s fighting the urge to run it through his hair. “God, I was such a mess, Rey. The whole thing with that stupid script, and then all anyone could talk about was how cute you and Finn were in your movie, how much better he’d be for you… and you seemed so quiet and distant all the time–”

Rey frowns at the thought. “I was worried for you!” she explains, knowing even as she does that it’s far too late, that none of it matters now.

“I just… I thought you were going to break up with me,” he admits quietly, eyes fixed on her half-decimated pancakes rather than her.

“Ben.”

He’s fidgety with nerves, and this time when his hands twitch she lets them go and watches him tear a napkin to shreds. “It’s stupid, I know, I know that now, but I was so scared, and I felt like I’d lost everything already anyway, so why not just… leave first, avoid the pain, run away like a fucking coward–”

“Ben, if you’d just talked to me–” she can’t help but say again, her heart crying at how simple it could have been, at how happy they could have been.

“I wish I had. You have no idea how much I wish… but it’s too late for that now, I guess.”

His voice is utterly defeated, his head is lowered like a kicked puppy, and Rey– Rey categorically rejects that and all it means for them.

“No, it’s not.”

It takes Ben a small eternity to raise his eyes to hers, and when he does Rey gives him a smile that’s not as bright as she’d like but honest all the same. Because it’s been two and a half years, and–

“It still hurts, when they ask me about you. When I think about us. When I reach across the bed at night and realize you’re not there anymore.”

“Rey,” Ben breathes, regret and guilt marring his features. “Rey, I–”

“If it still hurts…” she goes on, determined to see this through, to make sure she does everything she can this time. Even if it doesn’t work out…

But she can’t afford to think like that, not when there’s still hope. “If it still hurts, then… then some part of me still loves you, I think. And if that’s true then… it’s not too late, Ben.”

She holds out her hand, willing him to accept it, accept this and a second chance and her.

Ben stares at her hand for the longest time before he returns his eyes to hers. “What if… what if I fuck up again, Rey? What if I hurt you again?”

It’s a very real possibility, and a very real fear. But the alternative – to walk away from him, to go back to her half-life, to leave him like this, filled with pain and misery and regret – is even worse. Besides, this time– “You won’t,” Rey says simply, gives him an assuring smile. “Because this time we’ll deal with it together.”

The seconds tick by, but her smile remains in place, her faith remains resolute. And when Ben finally, finally takes her hand, she knows it’s all going to be okay.

“Together,” he promises, and leans over the table to seal it with a kiss.

. . .

Funny how I wrote the Twitter thread because I was going through terrible writer's block and couldn't write normal/traditional fic, only to end up writing a normal one-shot for the thread. I'm... really rusty, but at least I managed to write something! Well played, universe.

As always, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! Please don’t hesitate to like/reblog/comment!

[hornyfishprince]

Tell me some of your favorite stories with your friends. I need good vibes my way!

Hey! Sorry this took a couple days to get to, but let’s see here… This is a very long story, and I apologize in advance.

A couple years ago, I went to my first anime convention with CactusoftheNight and yurukiturah (Cas and Cat respectively; try not get them mixed up). The three of us often refer to that event as “The No Chill Weekend” because shit just… kept happening.

Now, before this, I had never met either of them in real life, but Cas and I had met online a few years prior, and he’s known Cat since gradeschool. Cas and I were (and still are) way too into homestuck for our own good at the time, and while he’d been to this particular convention in Dallas, Texas numerous times neither of us had ever cosplayed. As you can imagine, our stars were aligned. Months of planning and prep, measuring, cutting, sewing, fabric paint, body paint, makeup, arm socks, paper clay, broken horns, a broken wand, experimenting with everything! Mistakes were made. Money was wasted. This is all before the actual convention weekend. We had no idea what we were in for. 

Summer arrived, and it was finally time. I took a bus 800 miles from my sleepy little hometown in Illinois all the way to Dallas. It was my first time taking a bus, and my first time traveling alone. My bags had been packed meticulously carefully with all of my cosplay supplies, and I was a paranoid wreck whenever my luggage wasn’t gripped in my hands. Luckily the trip down was relatively uneventful. I rode overnight and arrived early in the morning, dazed from lack of sleep, but excited beyond belief.

Cas and his mom picked me up from the bus station and treated me to a nice breakfast at IHOP. I stayed at Cas’s place for the next two days while we did our final prep work for the con. We should’ve known then that it was going to be an interesting weekend. Neither of us had finished our armsocks (a crucial piece of costuming for any looking to transform into one of those candycorn motherfuckers), so it was now a race to get them done. We listened to Nightvale while we sewed, and that was about all we did for those days. It was hard work, but we didn’t care. We were going to be stepping into the skins of our favorite homestuck trolls (I was going as Eridan, and Cas was going as Gamzee), and we were high on the excitement of it all.

Then it was time to meet up with Cat. For the rest of the con weekend, we were staying in her dad’s condo, because it was the closest place we could stay to the convention without renting a hotel room (which we had no money for). The day before the con officially started people could come in and do their registration and then stay for a masquerade ball, which is exactly what we did. Cas and I had originally planned on cosplaying that night as well, just fancied up, but we didn’t have enough time to fuck around with all that facepaint. Also we still hadn’t finished the armsocks. I still wore my cape.

The cape was a mistake.

The chain holding it closed about my neck was flimsier than I had realized, and it snapped while we were trying to dance (badly, I might add, because we missed the dancing lessons they were supposed to hold earlier that day). The combination of a broken costume piece, a crowded ballroom, nothing to do, and my crippling anxiety issues led to us leaving early. We managed to fix my cape well enough that it would mostly hold together, but it still gave me grief for the rest of the weekend. We spent the rest of the night relaxing and playing CAH, and we still didn’t get our armsocks finished.

The next morning, we started the rush to get in costume. It took hours and a metric fuckton of baby powder, but our paint looked perfect and was sealed. Cas and I had only half of our armsocks done and since his arms were going to be more uncovered, we had to cut each of the finished arms into long gloves for him to wear, and then I got to paint my hands.

We had to take a few buses and then a train down to the hotel where the convention was being held, and then there was still a bit of walking to do on the way. I should mention at this point that Cat was in a long, black, leather trench coat - the garb of Org XIII from the Kingdom Hearts series. Cat is also very tall. Like a foot taller than Cas and I. We were a sight to behold. And behold us they did. You’d honestly be surprised how many people who don’t live immediately next to the hotel don’t know about the convention. Incredulous looks and questions abound.

On our way between the bus and the train, we stopped for a snowcone. An older gentleman questioned all three of us about our costumes, but he seemed the most enamored by mine, kept asking what I was supposed to be.

“A fish,” I replied simply, not knowing how else to explain (homestuck cannot be explained).

“Oh!” he responded, excitedly. “Well, swim all over me!”

The three of us laughed awkwardly and then our next bus arrived. I don’t think we’ll ever forget the “swim all over me” guy.

That first day was amazing. A-kon is the oldest anime convention in the united states, and it shows. Until recently, it was held at the Hilton-Anatole in Dallas, which is where we were that weekend, and it is a beautiful event. So many people in so many fandoms coming together in one spot. The dealer’s room and artist alley had so much to display you could hardly get through it all. We didn’t go to any panels, but everything we did do was worth the time we spent.

The first two days were busy and tiring, but fun, and not a disaster. But on the night of the second day, things took a turn. It started when Cas and I decided to stay for a panel that was being held a bit late. Unfortunately this meant we missed the Rocky Horror showing, but they do that every year and we planned on being back, so we figured we weren’t missing too much. In the interest of not dragging out this story anymore than it already is, I’ll spare the details on the panel we went to, but know that Cat couldn’t go with us because she wasn’t old enough at the time. This left her alone, and it was getting late before the panel ended, so eventually Cas and I had to rejoin her so we could head home before the trains stopped running.

Nerves were already a bit frayed at this point, as we were all sore and tired, and the walk to the train station was not a short one. When we made it to the ticket kiosk, the train was already pulling in and stopping. In our rush to get our tickets and get on the train, Cas’s backpack was left open and several things fell out. We realized this after another passenger handed him his phone charger. I had Cas check for my wallet (I had no pockets that could hold it) and sure enough it was gone.

Panic set in.

At the train’s next stop, a few blocks down the road, we got off and before we could so much as think, Cas was handing me his backpack and sprinting off back to the other station. I was still freaking out, and took off after him without thinking. Poor Cat stayed behind, alone again (I am still so sorry about that, oh my god). I wasn’t fast enough to keep up and soon lost sight of him, but continued on at a walking pace, knowing I would catch up eventually.

Meanwhile, Cas was running on. If you’ve never seen a chubby alien juggalo running straight at you with a look of sheer determination on their face, you can’t really know exactly how the people downtown felt when they saw Cas approaching that night. He searched all over the platform. He asked everyone who happened to be there waiting for the train if they had seen my wallet. They all stammered and shook their heads, perplexed by the urgent request from the strange grey man. “Was that Satan?!” Cas heard one of them exclaim as he was leaving them to ask the next bystander.

I was still on my way, alone, in a city I’d never known. I was constantly looking over my shoulder, but too scared to turn back at this point. A stranger spoke up from the darkness behind me, and I nearly jumped out of my shitty painted shoes. Luckily he was nice, and apologized for scaring me. He walked with me to the train stop, asking me about my costume and why I was out dressed like that so late. I gave him a brief rundown.

Just before making it to the train station, Cas crossed the street and met up with us, defeat and physical exertion coloring his face. We both had tears in our eyes at this point, and now we had to get back to Cat and figure out what to do. The stranger walked with us for a bit longer to make sure we would be okay before parting ways.

We eventually made it back. Cas called my dad for me and I explained through shaking sobs what had happened. My driver’s license, my debit card, and about $60 cash were now gone, and I was a 19-year-old in a city far from home. Anything worse that had ever happened to me before had involved physical injury. My dad agreed to call the bank asap and cancel my debit, and then we’d have to figure out my driver’s license when I got back. Cat called her parents, and they reimbursed me for the lost cash.

The three of us stood and waited for the next train. Some rando with a skateboard walked by and shouted at us something along the lines of “You guys wanna fuck me? I’d fuck me!” Still not sure if he was high as shit or just weird, but you gotta be pretty brave to solicit what appear to be a dark sorceress and the demons she summoned. At the time, we were too stressed to be amused by this, and if he hadn’t shut up and gone away, I honestly think we would’ve thrown down.

So the train arrives and we board. I’m still drying my eyes, and my two friends are doing a good job trying to calm me down. Eventually the train picks up some more passengers and we’re treated to a lovely conversation with some very drunk girls (and one guy, who happened to look like Matt Smith) who had just gotten back from a country music concert. They told us all how nice our costumes were, and we explained about the convention and how I’d lost my wallet. We showed them some cool stuff we’d bought at the con, including an Ouran Highschool Host Club poster I got, which, after seeing, they proceeded to tell Cat she looked like Honey. Drunk girls who go out of their way to be friendly and cheer you up give me life, tbh.

But eventually we get to our stop. And by now the buses have stopped running, as we knew they would, so now we have to walk. Unfortunately, Cat underestimated the distance from the train station to her dad’s condo. It was about 4 miles. I once walked about 3 miles for a school event once, and, as someone who doesn’t walk regularly, it was rough. There was nothing for it, though; we had to walk.

My heels were already starting to blister just from all the walking we’d done at the con. Cas was in mostly the same boat. Our shoes were not good for this at all. On top of it all, we were hungry, thirsty, and our bladders were full. There were no sidewalks for most of the trip, so we had to keep to the side and stay vigilant for cars. And even with light pollution and nearby buildings, I realized that night just how unnervingly dark a street with no street lights can get. People talk about liminal spaces on this site a lot, and I can tell you that entire night felt liminal.

Eventually we decided we needed to stop the first chance we got, and that came in the form of a gas station. Let me set the scene. It was on a corner, as gas stations tend to be. By this time we had made it to a small business district. There were definitely other buildings around, I think we even passed a Jack In The Box or similar establishment shortly before, but as I recall this, the gas station, the lot it was on, the road, and the cemetery (I’m not making this up) on the side of the road we were on all felt alone in an abyss of night.

I feel I should reiterate at this point exactly what we all looked like to set up this next part. Cat is 6 feet tall and mostly just looks like herself, but she is wearing a long, black leather trenchcoat. Cas and I are both roughly one foot shorter. We’re both painted grey and have yellow-orange horns on our heads. And Cas has his face painted white over the grey in a clown-makeup patter. Oh, and he has deep purple claw marks painted on over that. We’ve been walking for a while and we’ve been through some shit tonight, so we look a little disheveled. Did I mention we’re approaching out of the dark from the direction of a cemetery?

We cross the road, relieved that all the lights are on and it looks like we’re going to get to use the bathroom and have a little snack to keep us going for the last leg of the journey. We cross the lot and go and into the store, only to find… No one is there.

“Hello?” We call out. “Is anyone here? Are you open?”

From the back hallway we hear some movement, and out come two young adults, a man and a woman, probably only a year or two older than us. If I remember right, one of them was holding a broom. Fear was plain on their faces.

“Y’all scared us!” They said.

Oh my god… they thought we were demons.

We quickly apologized and asked if they had a bathroom. They were too stunned at first to really register what we were asking for, and just kept prodding us with questions. “What’re y’all doin out here?” “Is your skin really grey????” “Why are you dressed like that?”

We did our best to answer quickly and politely, but Cas and I were nearly bursting at this point, so we reiterated that a bathroom was urgently needed. They showed us the one bathroom in the place. It was small, and cramped, and the “door” was basically a piece of plywood you had to pick up and slide out of the way, which technically had a functioning lock… in theory at least. We did our business quickly, me first and then Cas, and while one relieved themselves, the other two stayed out and talked to the workers, trying our best to calm them down and assure them that no, we aren’t actually demons, they’re just costumes, there’s a convention in town.

We finished up, got our snacks (I think I got a snickers bar and a cherry pepsi), and then went on our way. We got back to Cat’s place without much more fuss and promptly passed out. The next morning we still got up and cosplayed for the last day of the convention. Cas’s horns broke, and we spent the last of our time at the con hanging out with some other homestucks who tried (to no avail) to help us fix them.

Then Cas and I went back to his place, we packed our stuff, and then he went back up to Illinois with me for a little less than a week. We started dating that summer. It’s been almost two and a half years since that weekend and we just got married at the end of October.

And that’s one of the best stories of my friends that I have.

I am so sorry this couldn’t have been shorter. Thank you for the ask!

[ficdirectory]

Disuphere (An AU Fosters family fic) Chapter 39

CHAPTER 39

THEN

Friday, December 25, 2009

Missing: 2 years, 3 months and 18 days

Josh was seriously starting to hate winter breaks.  

Even though nothing was as awful as last year (chained in the basement for a week), this was still pretty bad.  He had left to go visit His mom’s grave, which meant He was totally crabby during Something Else and then just left Josh chained to the bed in his room.  There was a little slack (enough to go to the bathroom, or to His room - disgusting) but not enough to get to the kitchen or the front or back doors which were always locked with 17 billion locks.

He left a lot more food this time.  Josh was relieved about that.  The water situation was solid.  There was heat.  Josh had clothes and blankets.  So he really should stop complaining.  It was just...he didn’t expect to be left alone with the blaring Christmas music again.  With nobody to talk to.  Not even the deer head.  

At least Josh had an alarm clock in his room and a skateboarding calendar to keep track of the days.  (Josh remembered when He started asking what Josh liked.  What other kids had.  The calendar was the first thing He’d given Josh to help him fit in.)  

Instead of thinking of his family, Josh spent hours organizing his food:  How much was left?  How long could he make it last?  Should he have eaten the best things last instead of first?  Too late now.

Ever since August, when He was super mad and kept putting Josh Down There for punishments, Josh had made it his mission to never have to go Down There again.  But when it came down to it, not going made him so nervous.

Josh couldn’t even shut up about it and had to ask Him:

“So, I--  I don’t have to go Down There?”

He’d turned.  Eyed Josh, still chained to the bed.  “Have you done something to deserve it?”

“No.  I’m just asking, because…”

“Relax.  If you haven’t done anything wrong, you’re in the clear.  Consider it your Christmas gift.”

“Okay,” Josh hesitated.  He was staring in that gross way.  Like He deserved something back for chaining Josh in a different room.  Then, he remembered:  “Thank you, Dad,” he recited.

So far, he was doing okay on food and water.  Josh had organized it a bunch.  Now what?  He sighed, looking at his backpack.  All the teachers in sixth grade assigned homework like theirs was the only class that existed.  So, Josh did Social Studies and Science.  Math and Reading.  Language, he saved for very last.  He wrote a haiku poem, because they were doing a whole unit on it in that class.  He put DON’T READ in all caps at the top because they were allowed if something was personal.

Josh still knew better than to make anything seriously personal.  If he did that, he didn’t want to think about what would happen.  Bit his lip and rubbed his ankle where the chain was digging in.  When they went back to school, Josh knew Mrs. A. was going to have them write about how break was.  Josh could use the rest of the time (however long he was stuck here before He came back) to make up the best fake break ever.  Family coming over.  Lots of presents.  And food.

Unfortunately, Fake Breaking didn’t take as long as he hoped.  So Josh just decided to catch up on his sleep.  He slept a lot but didn’t stay asleep because of the music and because his chains kept digging in.  Josh woke up a lot - he kept thinking he heard Him coming back in for more Something Else.

Josh woke up for real when the music changed.  It was the I’m So Dumb song.  Goosebumps rose on his arms and when the music stopped for one or two seconds before repeating, Josh heard it:

A boy crying.

He lurched to the bathroom, dragging his chains and fell on his knees to be sick.

Josh was a terrible person.  Happy he wasn’t locked Down There, when it was really because He was taking another kid.  He needed The Pole and The Mattress and everything for the other kid.  Josh was crying out of control, and felt like he was dying.

All this time - all these months - He had been talking about getting another kid, but Josh never thought He actually would.

Pulling against the chains, Josh screamed.  There was no way to do what he really wanted and rescue the other boy.  Because Josh couldn’t even save himself.

Finally, giving up, Josh lay down on the floor in the bathroom.  He went to Level 3 because the blood was already rushing in his ears.

Josh never dreamed since being Here, but distantly, he had the thought: “Please let tonight be a dream.”

Then nothing.

Thursday, January 14, 2010

Missing: 2 years, 4 months and 7 days

For almost three weeks, Josh kept waiting for the other boy to be allowed upstairs.  Tried to talk to Him about, but He was distracted.  His eyes shining in a weird way.  He’d be downstairs then upstairs.  When there was a noise He’d say it was mice.

That made Josh shiver.

Today, Josh came home to a note on the kitchen table.  It said He was working late and Josh better behave and leave the music on.  All the doors better be locked when He came home.

Usually, Josh knew, He waited around to be sure He could lock Josh in, but He didn’t today.  Any other day, that would scream ESCAPE NOW, but his finger was still sore sometimes, and he was so scared of having to go Down There if he got caught.  The truth was, Josh was too scared to try to escape.  Plus, he knew there was another boy.  And this was Josh’s chance to see about helping him.

There was no lock on the basement door, so Josh just waited until he knew for sure (mostly) that He wasn’t coming to check up on them.  Then he opened the basement door and started down the stairs, shaking.

The smell was bad.  The laundry didn’t even cover it.  It was like an outhouse Josh used once, camping out, but worse.  Nervous now, he flipped on the light.

There.

Josh’s stomach dropped.

The boy was skinny.  Pale.  Chains digging in.  A hood over his head.  No clothes.  Holding still like he was frozen.  (Oh yeah, the light.)

For a minute, Josh just stood there.  Then, he forced himself to move.  He got an old towel from the dirty clothes that looked so much cleaner than the boy.  Then, he knelt, and with shaking hands, he took the hood off the boy’s head.

Grey eyes went wide with fear.

“It’s okay,” Josh said, holding his hands up.  Looking the boy in the eyes.  “I’m like you.  Okay?  I’m like you.”  Pushing up his sleeves, his pant legs, his shirt, Josh showed the marks.  Proof he’d been right here once, too.  “My name is Josh.  I’m not gonna hurt you.  I’m not like Him.”

Josh put the towel over the boy, so it at least covered his lap and legs.

“I’m gonna untape your mouth.  Tell me if it hurts, and I’ll try a different angle.”

The boy nodded.  He was so skinny.  There were tears on his face.  Josh could see where they made tracks through the dirt there.

Josh winced, and went to work, carefully peeling away the tape.  The boy made little noises but his voice was gone, like hoarse.

Finally, Josh got the tape off, and he stuck it to another part of the pole but not all the way.  He knew he was gonna need to put it back on eventually, and Josh wasn’t about to go looking for fresh duct tape.

The boy started crying, but no tears came.

“What’s your name?” Josh asked.

“I--  Jacob…” he croaked.

“How old are you?”

“Eleven,” he whispered.  

“Hey.  Me, too.  Oh, I almost forgot,” Josh reached into his sweatshirt pocket.  Took out a can of Sprite, a chocolate pudding and a plastic spoon.  (It paid to save your lunch.)

Jacob’s eyes got big.  His stomach growled.

“I’m gonna help you with these, okay, but I just gotta check something quick.  I’m not leaving you, I promise.”  Josh ran up the stairs and and listened for a car engine.  Boots.  Keys.  The clock on the wall said 4:11.  Still almost seven hours ‘til He came home from work.

Josh just had to be careful.  Because you never knew when He might come home spying.

Back downstairs with Jacob and the horrible smells, Josh opened the can of Sprite and held it to Jacob’s lips.  “Be careful,” he urged.  If Jacob spilled on himself there was the towel to wipe up, but there would also be evidence on it.  They couldn’t risk that.

Jacob chugged the whole Sprite not spilling one drop.  Josh opened the pudding and Jacob had it eaten in six bites.  Again, Josh headed upstairs to throw the garbage away in the kitchen, so He wouldn’t suspect.  Made sure to look around again.  Listen again.  No sign.

Back downstairs.

Josh sat across from Jacob and frowned.  The chains he could see looked so tight.  “Sorry,” he muttered.  “If I had the key, I’d unlock you, and then we could run away.  Get help.”

Jacob sobbed.  “I want my mom!”

“Hey.  I know.  It sucks.  This is gonna sound so bad, okay, but trust me:  You’ve gotta just forget her, okay?”

Jacob wailed louder.

“Listen to me, okay?  I was right where you are.  I’m telling you this because it’ll help you stay alive: It’s easier to just forget.  It hurts too much to remember them.  If you try to find them, they’ll be in danger, too…  You gotta be strong, okay?  You can fight but don’t cry.  Do whatever He wants.  Disappear in your head, so you don’t think about it or feel it.”

“I don’t know how…” Jacob whimpered.  “I just wanna go home.  I want my family.”

“Well…” Josh thought.  “What if I was your family?  Just for now ‘til you get yours back?  Like brothers or cousins, or something…” (Josh didn’t tell Jacob, but he had already started referring to him as “my cousin” in his journal for school.)

Jacob cracked a tiny smile: “Bro-sins,” he offered.

“Deal.  So in order to get out of here, you have to do all the stuff I said.  Then, you’ll be able to walk around like me, and then, maybe we can think of a way out of here.”

“I don’t know how to be strong, though…” Jacob hesitated.

“Are you alive right now after twenty days Down Here?”

Jacob looked surprised.  (There was literally no way to tell days or hours.)  “Yeah,” his voice cracked.

“Then you’re strong. I’m gonna go make supper.  I’ll bring you some, okay?”

“Don’t leave…”

“Listen.  I can’t visit you all the time but I swear I’ll sneak down whenever I can, okay?  When you’re by yourself and scared, remember that I’m here, too.  I’m in The House.  And in The House, we only have one job.”

“What?” Jacob asked.

“Stay alive,” Josh said seriously.  “So we can be rescued.”

“Okay.  Bye, bro-sin,” Jacob called, trying to be brave.

“See ya in a few.  I’ll bring you some pizza.”

Monday, February 1, 2010

Missing: 2 years, 4 months and 25 days

Josh kept his promise.  Every day that He went to work, Josh visited Jacob.  Two and a half weeks after they first met, Josh found Jacob inconsolable.

Checking him for injuries before grabbing a towel from the dirty clothes to cover him, Josh took off the hood and the tape.

“What did He do?” Josh asked, shaken.

“Said she died!” The last word made him choke.  “My mom!  He was saying I’d get to home home, but now He says since I don’t have any parents, He has to be my dad!”

Josh felt sick.  Then mad.  Because he was almost 100% positive he had just seen Jacob’s mom on the news today during current events time in Social Studies, and not for being dead.  (There was a different name, not Jacob, but it was definitely Jacob’s face on the poster, and in the woman’s features.)  She was talking about him.  Saying they were still looking.

(Was Josh’s family still looking?)

It was a good thing his disappearing wasn’t a current event.   It would be too weird seeing his own face while he was sitting in a desk three hours away.  But Jacob had been taken from Santa Barbara, even further up the coast than LA.  Much farther away from San Diego.  Police probably didn’t even think to look for the same bad guy.

“Stop crying.  Stop crying, okay?” Josh finally had enough and grabbed Jacob by the shoulders.  Hung on tight.  “Stop crying so I can tell you He’s a liar!”

Jacob froze.  Stopped crying.  Maybe stopped breathing from fear.

Josh let go, and Jacob dragged in a huge breath.  Then another.  Then another.  Then he said: “What?”

“I swear, as your bro-sin, I am not messing with you.  I saw your mom on TV in Social Studies today.  She was telling you not to give up hope.  That they’re still looking for you.  He probably just told you that because His mom died and He wants somebody to feel bad like Him.”  Josh took Jacob’s face between his hands.  Stared at him hard.  The hardest thing was to not be able to give Jacob a hug when he needed it.

(Jacob needed to get off the damn pole.)

“Your mom is alive.  That’s true.  She just said she’s not giving up.  She just told you not to give up.  So, don’t okay?  Do what He says because you have to...but don’t believe Him.  Promise?” Josh asked.

Tears flowed from Jacob’s eyes.  Even with the towel, he shook with cold.  But he swallowed.  “Promise you’re telling me the truth?”

“Jacob, I wouldn’t lie about this.  I’m like you.  He did the same thing to me as he’s doing to you.  I’m not like Him.”

“Okay,” Jacob breathed, his grey eyes locked on Josh’s brown ones.

Josh checked the time on the old-fashioned watch He gave him, instead of a cell phone.  Almost no time til He came home.

“Sorry, bro, I gotta do this,” Josh apologized.  He took the towel off first and put it back in the basket, giving Jacob as much time to look around, to talk, as he could.

Right before Josh put the tape back on Jacob’s mouth, Josh heard it, just a whisper from Jacob:

“Love you, bro.  Stay alive?”

Josh nodded, tears falling down his own face, as he secured the tape in place:

“Stay alive,” Josh vowed.

Hood.

“I love you, too.  I’m sorry.”

Lights out.

Engine.

Boots.

Keys.

Josh was sprawled on the floor, seemingly absorbed in homework in his room when He passed by.  Level 1 was there to help him not show every damn thing on his face.

“Give you any trouble?” He asked, like they both took a kid from his family on Christmas night.

“No,” Josh said, as if he was surprised to hear mention of another person in the house.  “Forgot he was even here.  Maybe he’s sleeping.”

“Please God…  That one’s such a whiner…”

“Please God...” Josh echoed - not a complaint - but a prayer.