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glitteryhellhole · 3 years

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alright lets do this

here we go

Title: The Tent Fandom: Z nation Pairing: 10K x female reader Word count: approx 3k Rating: 18 Description: fluffy smut with awkward cinnamon roll 10K

A gas station. A real life, untouched gas station. Apart from the bloody handprints smeared on the concrete walls.

It didn't take long to sweep and secure the area, then fill up the truck and the reserve cannisters. Afterwards Warren gestured with her gun to the convenience store. “Look for anything useful.”

The place had been untouched since day one. Mummified hot dogs still sitting on a rack. The register hanging open- perhaps in the beginning some people had looted cash, but it didn't take long to realise money didn't mean anything anymore.

You shoved bottles of water and packets of candy into your rucksack before following Addy's gaze to the toiletries shelf. Pads and tampons, little travel-sized bodywashes, an actual toothbrush.

“It's a whole new kind of mercy,” she whistled.

You picked up the first aid kit and the two crushed boxes of painkillers, turning to ask Doc if they'd be any good- and found him and Murphy kneeling on the counter, pulling away the plastic panel which guarded the cigarettes.

Priorities, huh.

Loaded up, you looked around you. Warren was on watch so 10K had let his guard down for once and was poking at the faded magazines. You saw his pink lips move as he mouthed the titles to himself. Something familiar caught his eye, probably the one with guns all over, and he reached up- and the whole top shelf came tumbling down. Suddenly 10K was surrounded by glossy double-page spreads of unnaturally bronzed and perky breasts and butts.

He froze like an animal in a trap.

“Found what you're looking for?” Doc's voice was loud and his arms were cradling an impressive quantity of alcohol. “There's a lot of generic lesbians, over forties, asian fetish, but for a beginner I'd recommend-”

The rest of his sentence was drowned out by a crash as 10K backed rapidly out of the shop, cheeks ablaze, taking down a stand of air fresheners and sending sunglasses skittering across the floor in every direction.

The rest of you laughed, for the first time in a while. Back in the truck and passing round bags of only-slightly-stale chips, you all agreed that the gas station was your best find in quite some time.

Except perhaps for the tent.

A little way back, a stranded family had been incredibly grateful for a tow out of the ditch, and had gifted you their spare tent. No ordinary camping gear, this thing was foil-lined and had a built in waterproof, cushioned underlayer. On an especially hot night you'd probably want it to yourself but the rest of the time it comfortably housed two people, keeping in the heat. You'd been taking turns each night, with priority to the injured, meaning that every morning there was at least one person who was fully rested and recharged. Ideal when every day was a battle for survival.

Of course, there was one other advantage to the tent. Privacy. Human needs didn't really get talked about in this un-human world, and whatever got overheard in the night would also go unspoken.

It was nearing dusk and you were pulling over to make camp. “Who's turn in the tent?” Murphy called out as he threw himself down on the ground. “Dibs.”

Warren, who was unloading a heavy bag, gave him a kick in the side. “Get up and help. I don't think 10K's had a turn yet.”

“Neither's she.” He nodded at you.

“Settled then.”

Murphy sniggered.

Since there was plenty of water, there was a rare chance to wash up a bit. Ladies first while the men stood watch with their backs turned, and then vice versa. Nowhere near to having a hot shower in privacy, but it was something. You noticed that 10K didn't bother putting his shirt back on afterwards as he squatted by the fire cleaning his weapons, a cigarette dangling from his mouth.

How could somebody so skinny be so strong? Must be the result of life outdoors.

He raised an eyebrow and you realised you were staring. Oops.

“Here.” Somebody passed you a can of cheap beer that had come from the store along with the snacks and cigarettes. It was almost like being at a camp-out. The beer was gross but it gave you a nice warm feeling in your chest, and the idea of lying down somewhere soft started to seem quite appealing, so you said your goodnights and retreated into the tent.

You weren't sure how long it was until you were joined, perhaps you'd started to drift off- the sound of the zip jolted you back to your senses as 10K flopped unceremoniously into the tent, stretching out next to you. “Beer makes shoelaces hard.” He complained.

You giggled and sat up to help. “When was the last time you slept without shoes on?”

“Probably before my voice broke.” He scratched his head while watching you remove his boots and then said, “I'm not good at talking, especially to girls, but you don't scare me.”

“Thanks for the compliment, I think?” You laid back down, closing your eyes and pulling your blanket over you. There was silence for a minute but it was oddly comfortable, the security of a warm person breathing next to you.

“What was your first word?” You asked into the silence. “I bet it was gun.”

“Actually it was primrose.”

“Huh?”

“My momma's favourite flower.” He rolled over onto his stomach, closing the gap between you, and rested his cheek on his folded arms. “I was six. Doctor said I wasn't learning but I was paying attention to everything. She used to take me to the library in town to look at all sorts of books, that where we learned to sign.”

You couldn't help but ask. “When did she...?”

“When I was nine. Pops wanted me to try and be a normal kid but once she'd gone he didn't want anything to do with the rest of the world and stopped sending me to school.”

“I'm sorry.”

“It's ok.” He wriggled a little to get more comfortable. “Can you talk for a bit now?”

So you talked about your own parents, and your hometown, and it surely wasn't very interesting but 10K watched you intently as he sobered up, studying your face, and you hoped you weren't blushing. After a while you came to a natural conclusion in your story and realised that his fingers were twitching, as though he were nervous.

What's up?” you asked softly.

He blinked slowly. “Ain't always easy to tell when you're supposed to say stuff and when you're not.”

Unsure what to expect, you gave him an encouraging nod.

“Can I... touch your hair?”

Your heart started to beat a little fast and you nodded again. 10K's fingers reached out timidly to feel you hair, twisting strands and brushing them away from your face.

You hadn't felt human touch in so long, and you couldn't help but rest your head on his arm as he stroked. The pair of you seemed to breathe in unison. It was almost peaceful.

Almost. Apart from the little sparks of electricity that seemed to fizzle into life where your skin touched his.

Could he feel it too? It didn't seem so. There he was growing more and more serene, while you were warming up in a way that had nothing to do with the insulated tent.

“Um...” You fidgeted awkwardly, trying to choose the right words. “10K? You know why they were giggling right?”

“Uh-huh.” His eyes were closed. “People do stuff in the tent. Its pretty obviously I've never... y'know.”

“Does it bother you?”

“A bit, but its not like I can go meet a girl and ask her Pops if I can take her to the barn dance.”

You couldn't help but laugh a little. “I mean the teasing.”

“Oh.” He blushed slightly as he opened his eyes to look at you. “I get why, you're near my age and you're pretty. Any guy would be lucky to date you.”

Oh indeed. Maybe he did feel it then.

“You could...” You bit your lip and steeled yourself. “You could pretend that you were.”

He sat bolt upright, making you jump, and a wide grin spread across his face. “I could ask you on a picnic, at my favourite place in the woods.” His words were tumbling out fast from nervous excitement. “Make nice bread, Mom's special recipe with the dried fruit. And we could talk like we did earlier and I could pick you flowers and then I could kiss you.”

His lips were clumsy as they first met yours, but eager, and didn't take long to find a groove. You sighed and leaned in, one hand reaching up into his hair, and-

A single gunshot cracked through the air.

In an instant 10K was lurching for the tent entrance where his gun was propped. You reached for your shoes, panic rising in your chest.

“False alarm.” Doc's voice came from outside. “Nothing to worry about. Hey, you okay in there kid? Need me to give ya a quick pep talk on anything?”

“I'm good.” He zipped the flap back up then turned back to you. “Actually do you think maybe I should? I don't really know what to do.”

You couldn't help but laugh again. He was way too innocent for someone so good-looking.

You put and hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat. “Just do what feels natural.”

“Okay.” He gave you another wide grin, showing those adorably crooked teeth, and then practically launched himself at you, so you landed on your back and he was on top of you, lips moulding to the shape of yours. You gasped for air and 10K made an apologetic sound without pausing the kiss, propping himself up on one elbow so that you could breathe.

His hand rested on your stomach, fingers still for a moment before balling up your shirt and gently navigating the exposed skin. Tentative. Like soothing a spooked animal.

You reached your hand up to touch his shoulders, feeling hard muscle under surprisingly soft skin. Tracing his collarbones and around the back of his neck. He shivered and broke the kiss, and you saw his tongue dart out to wet his lips.

“Maybe I could take your shirt off too.” He mumbled. In answer you sat up and held your arms above your head. 10K pulled your shirt over your head- sending the little lamp tied to the tent roof swinging- then looked confused as his thumb hooked into the shoulder strap of your sports bra. You kind of wished you'd been wearing something nicer for this occasion, but you'd dressed for practicality before hitting the road.

“Here. Let me.” You wriggled out of the bra, trying not to elbow him in the process.

“Wowee.” 10K let out a whistle. “You look even better without clothes on. Why would anyone want to look at random pictures?”

It seemed like he could have sat there and stared forever, but you didn't have forever, and so you pulled him in to kiss again. He trailed his lips across your face and on to your neck, one arm supporting you from behind and the other hand landing on your chest, squeezing experimentally.

“Not so hard,” you gasped.

“Sorry. They're squishier than I expected.” He let out a humming noise into the crook of your neck as his fingers found a hard nipple and brushed back and forth.

You dipped your head down too, lightly touching your teeth to his throat. A low growl escaped and he pushed you back down, pressing his body close to yours, and you could feel his eager hardness against your hip.

10K tried the same move, nipping at the skin under your ear. His breathing was very shallow and rapid as he licked and sucked experimentally, moving down over your breasts.

“You taste good. But not in a zombie way.”

Your hands rested on his hips, fingers splaying out to softly squeeze his ass and then dipping below the loose waistband.

“Oh, wait.” He rolled off you to shed a pile of concealed knives and the little sharp discs that he used in the sling shot.

“What else are you hiding down there?” You smirked. For a moment he turned beetroot red and covered his crotch with his hands, but then met your smile with one of his own.

“Just means I like you and I like this.” He shrugged. “Do you-”

“Mmhmm.” You reached out to ease his trouser buttons undone, fumbling slightly, but you weren't nervous. It just felt right with him. “I like you. And I like this.”

He groaned softly as the restriction on his hardness eased and grabbed you for another kiss, this time hungry and slightly sloppy. 10K's fingers found the fastening of your own jeans and made quick work, tugging them down to your knees. Then he paused for a moment, putting a finger to your lips.

There was no noise from outside.

“We're good.” With a bit of awkward shuffling, you both shed your trousers and then looked at each other.

“We probably shouldn't go all the way,” you said almost reluctantly. “No protection and all that. But there's still stuff-”

“Anything.” 10K blurted out without a second's pause. “Everything. I'll do whatever you want. But not what you don't want.” His tongue darted out to wet his lips again as he stared at you earnestly.

You felt a shiver travel down your spine. Nobody had ever looked at you quite like that before. Not just lust but something deeper, as though he was seeing through your skin and right inside you.

“Come here,” he whispered huskily, grabbing your waist and pulling you onto his lap. You sighed into the kiss and slowly moved your hips, letting your centre rub against his as you straddled him, tangling fingers in his messy hair.

10K moaned something that sounded like “shucks” and you couldn't help but snort. What would it take to make him swear? You dug your nails in a little, catching his lip between your teeth.

“Want to touch you.” He moaned, gripping your hips. “Want you to touch me.”

You trailed your hand from his cheek all the way down to cup the pronounced bulge in his boxers and his eyes rolled back in his skull, but then he visibly shook himself and swatted your hand away. “Ladies first.” The hand slid a little clumsily down into your knickers.

You closed your eyes and rested your forehead against 10K's, feeling how hot his skin was. His curious fingertips traced your labia and in between.

“It's wet.” He sounded surpised, and brought a thumb to his mouth to taste.

“That's a good thing.” You felt a little self-conscious as you explained, watching him suck his thumb. “It means I'm, you know, turned on.”

“Show me how to make it feel good,” he murmured, lifting you off his lap and laying you back down before tugging your knickers all the way down and spreading your legs.

You took his hand in yours and guided him, showing him your clit. His marksman fingertips quickly picked it up and he kissed you again as he touched you. “Am I doing it right?”

“Yeah you're- oh, yeah thats good.” Your voice was high-pitched and breathy. 10K made a satisfied “hmph” and nuzzled into your neck. He smelled of safety. Less dirt and blood than usual, traces of soap, whatever he was using for hair gel, engine oil. Sweat but not in the just-been-running-and-fighting way, in the musky hormonal way.

The feeling swelling inside you was something you hadn't experienced, hadn't even thought about, in a long time. But here and now it was growing, consuming, and you couldn't imagine anything other than his touch, his hot breath on your cheek.

“Hey.” 10K's voice was husky again. “You need something else?”

You became aware that your hips were twitching. “A bit faster maybe?”

A moan escaped your lips as he obliged, and 10K grinned. “That's hot.” Then he cocked his head to one side, raising his eyebrows. “I assume girls can- y'know-”

“It looks a bit different but yes.” You were gasping now as you spoke, chest rising and falling.

“Do it for me.” He murmured, watching you as though hypnotised and biting his lip. His words and his gaze loosened the coiled spring that was weighing down your abdomen and the endorphins came rushing as you climaxed.

“Shh.” He pressed his mouth to yours and swallowed your moan, pressing his fingers harder as you moved beneath him until it became almost too much. “Do you want them to hear us?”

You shook your head, trying to control your breathing.

“Maybe you do.” He raised an eyebrow again as his fingers finally slowed to a halt. “I kinda do. So they all know what I just did to you.”

“Do you want your turn or not?”

That shut him up. He glanced down and you followed his gaze. He was still very much erect, and there was now a distinct wet patch where he'd leaked a little in excitement.

You pushed 10K onto his back and settled yourself next to him. “Let me know if something's not ok,” you told him. “I won't do anything you don't want.”

He nodded and closed his eyes. He flinched a little as you pulled his boxers down but then his face relaxed and his lips parted as you touched him.

“Have you done this to yourself?” You asked. “So you know what you like.”

He nodded, looking somewhat bashful. “A few times. But this is different. Better.”

It was your turn to grin as your fingers circled his erection and found a rhythm. 10K's head tilted back and the smallest of high-pitched noises escaped his open mouth. You lowered your lips to his exposed neck and sucked gently at the skin. There was a red mark when you pulled away.

“Mmmph.” He rasped through gritted teeth. “Again.”

“It'll leave a bruise.”

“Don't care.”

You began to create a trail of little hickeys down his throat and across his collarbones as you continued to stroke, and his tiny whimpers grew more frequent. You knew it wouldn't be long.

10K was holding onto you tightly, nails digging in, droplets of sweat visible on his forehead. “I think I'm gonna- ahh....” He seemed to lose the ability to speak as you attacked his neck again, eyes rolling back. A few moments later, his hips bucked and you could feel hot sticky warmth coat your fingers.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck.”

So he did swear after all.

You kissed him again, and then looked down. “Um, got anything to clean up with?”

Still breathing heavily, 10K sat up and reached for his trousers, pulling a bandana out of one of the many pockets. “It's my least favourite. I'll burn it.”

Like the gentleman he'd been raised to be, he wiped your hand off first before tending to himself, then tossed the soiled cloth out of the way and pulled you close. You rested your head on his chest. You'd heard the term 'afterglow' but never really thought that it was a thing; it apparently was. The chemicals your brain was releasing and the protective hold of his arms made you want to laugh, and cry, and drift off to sleep, and run a mile, all at once.

Just for a moment, there was no apocalypse. There was only you and him and the little lamp above your heads.

It was 10K who broke the spell. “I need to pee.” he said apologetically. “Like, real bad.”

You laughed at the face he was pulling and threw his trousers at him. 10K slithered with some difficulty into them, kicking the side of the tent, and then stumbled outside.

You realised how cold it was now and reached for your own clothes. As footsteps indicated 10K's return, you could have sworn you heard the sound of a high-five.

“What was that?” You demanded as he re-entered the tent.

“Never mind.” He grabbed the blanket and laid it over you.”I want to do that again. But we should probably get some sleep.”

“The whole point of the tent is to get proper rest right?” You scooted closer as he laid down, offering the blanket, but he refused, tucking it round you and then wrapping his arms round too so you were tightly cocooned against his side.

“Yeah. Sure.”

>>>>>Thanks for reading! This is the first fanfic i’ve done in literally years. Open to feedback and even perhaps requests :) PS i am v english so I apologise to any Americans insulted by my attempts at your words

#z nation #10k #ten thousand #10k x reader #10k imagine #z nation fic #tommy 10K #10kxreader

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years

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By My Side (Part 3)

Summary: The reader and Jensen take a quiet moment to get to know one another. While the reader feels like she and Jensen are finally starting to get along for the better, Jensen pulls back and she’s informed her family is coming by to visit...

Masterlist

Pairing: Bodyguard!Jensen x reader

Word Count: 3,700ish

Warnings: language, near drowning, angst

A/N: Enjoy!

_________

One Week Later

“Good morning,” you said as Jensen yawned, walking into your new and bright kitchen. You sipped on your coffee, Jensen running a hand through his hair.

“Morning. I haven’t slept in on the weekend in forever,” he said. “Speaking of which, what are you doing up? You’re never out of bed this early.”

“Coffee date,” you said, nodding towards the mug at the counter. You smiled as you saw Jensen put it together just as Owen walked in.

“Oh. Sorry. I’ll get out of your hair,” said Jensen.

“S’no problem. You’re the bodyguard, right?” asked Owen.

“Yeah,” he said, looking Owen up and down. “Well, you look like you can handle yourself.”

“I do alright,” he said.

“Eh, strong and good looking. I approve,” said Jensen. He turned to head back upstairs, a big laugh escaping you as Owen raised an eyebrow. “Sorry. The privacy thing. I forgot.”

“He’s kinda weird,” said Owen under his breath, Jensen’s shoulders tensing as he walked away.

“He’s just protective. It’s kinda his job,” you said.

“Well he’s still weird,” he said.

“Well he’s part of my life,” you said. “He’s not going away anytime soon.”

“Maybe we should do this another time,” he said.

“Excellent idea,” you said. You showed him the way out, your eyes mid roll as you went back upstairs. You headed for your room to change into something more comfortable when you heard Jensen grunt from farther down the hall. You turned your head, Jensen looking uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry I messed up your date. I should have kept my mouth shut. I’ll refrain from speaking when you have guests over,” he said.

“I told him about you before he came over. He was rude and I only did the date to appease a friend. Trust me, I like you a Hell of a lot more than that guy.”

“Wow. Must be a dick then considering you hate me,” he said.

“Who said I hated you?” you smiled. “You’re growing on me, Ackles.”

“Don’t go soft on me now, Y/L/N,” he said, running his hand through his messy hair, messing it up even more. “Hey. I do have one question since this is something not really in our contract.”

“What is it?”

“Am I allowed to use the pool out back?” he asked.

“Of course,” you said. “I know you normally prepare your own meals but I wanted to make a bigger dinner tonight and there’s no use in wasting the leftovers if you want to join me.”

“Sure,” he said. “I’ll uh, see you around then.”

“I’lll see you, Ackles.”

After lunch you were sat on your back patio, trying to read a book but your eyes kept wandering over to where Jensen was swimming. He was timing himself obviously, a watch on his wrist as he swam back and forth, over and over again. You tried to not stare but it was hard not to watch the muscles rippling in his back or his shoulders flex each time he moved. After a while he stopped in the shallow end, floating on his back as he shut his eyes and caught his breath. His chest heaved and you swallowed as he straightened up and stepped out of the water.

His swim trunks stuck to his thighs as he walked over and grabbed the towel on the chair beside you. You kept your head in your book but he sat beside you, checking his watch for a minute.

“Nice swim?” you asked, Jensen wiping himself off as he sat.

“More of a workout,” he said. “You have a good sized pool for it.”

“I have a home gym. Or will have one shortly. If you want anything for it, just let me know and I can order it,” you said, turning the page.

“You got a bench press?” he asked.

“No,” you said. “Just email me a link to whatever you want and I’ll get it.”

“You sure?” he asked.

“Yeah. It’s a business expense. I think keeping you strong is part of your job,” you said. You glanced over the page and he nodded.

“You one of those yoga girls?” he asked.

“You got something against yoga?” you asked.

“No. It requires more strength than people realize, especially in the legs,” he said. “Simply asking.”

“I pretty much do what the show tells me to. Bike, HIIT, do some weight training, yoga for flexibility. Nothing major,” you said.

“How do they enforce something like that?” he asked as he ran the towel over his head.

“It’s more of an honor system kind of thing,” you said. “They gave Gen and me personal trainers before the show started but that was it.”

“You ever do boxing, kick boxing, that sort of thing?” he asked.

“Kick boxing. I broke my hand when I did boxing. Was in a brace half of season two because of it.”

He stared at you before he grabbed both your wrists in one hand, your book falling into your lap. You scowled but he threw his hand over your mouth before you could speak. He tugged your hands downward and you took a deep inhale, Jensen nodding.

“Good. You didn’t panic. It’s hard to teach that one,” he said. “You don’t need to learn strength. You have it already. We just need to fine tune how to use it if I’m not around.”

You mumbled and he moved his hand away.

“I thought I was going to be taking a class.”

“You’re better suited to learn one on one. Jared offered to help with some more examples if needed,” he said. He tugged on your hands again, pulling them closer to him and making you scoot over to the edge of your chair. “Without harming me, how do you get out?”

“I’m not gonna care about not harming someone if this was real,” you said.

“True. But I’d like to see how your brain works under duress when it’s challenged. I’m not gonna hurt you but I will make this uncomfortable. If you want me to stop, just give me the finger, okay?”

“What are you gonna do?” you asked, swallowing thickly.

“Not gonna hurt you. Just gonna send your brain into hyperdrive. Trust me?” he asked. You nodded and he smiled. “Good. Like I said, try to get your hands free without hurting me.”

Next thing you knew he yanked you up to your feet and practically dragged you over to the grass. He pushed you down and threw a hand over your mouth and nose, your eyes wide.

“Relax. You’re smart. Think.”

You tried squirming out but it was no use and he had your hands pinned to your chest. You tried looking around but his hand stayed on you and you squeezed your eyes shut. Think. He wanted you to think.

He had decided to do this out of the blue, after you told him what you did for your training for the show. Something in what you’d said obviously gave him an idea that you knew how to get out.

You opened your eyes and stared up at him, Jensen staring down. You planted your feet flat on the ground and thrust up, moving him off of you enough for his hand to fall away from your face. You took a deep breath as you used your leg to block his arm before you rolled on top of him, sitting on his chest with your legs on either side of his neck.

“Let go or I make you,” you said with a pant. He released your hands like that, giving you a nod of approval. “That wasn’t so-”

He rolled and grabbed for you again but you rolled out of the way, doing it once more and feeling your skin scrap on concrete before you fell right into the water.

You were still getting your breath back and had tried sucking in as you fell, immediately coughing as the water shifted and an arm wrapped around your waist. You coughed up a bit of water when you broke the surface, Jensen swimming into the shallow end with you.

“You’re okay,” he said as you coughed some more water up, a hand running up and down your back. You let out a large hack and felt better after that, Jensen picking you up and carrying you back over to the patio. He sat you down on the chair and gently shoved your head between your knees, the back door opening for a moment before he returned.

He put a towel over you and you sat up, his hand running over your head.

“Didn’t mean to nearly drown you,” he said. You nodded, letting out a small cough and putting your hand on your throat. “Take a quick shower and I’ll clean up that arm. I got the trick for that throat too.”

You nodded and stood up, heading inside and rinsing off the chlorine. You changed into fresh clothes and came downstairs, Jensen coming back from his room with a red duffel bag.

“What’s that?” you asked, your hand shooting to your neck again.

“First aid. I could perform surgery on you with what’s in this bag if I had to,” he said. “Try not to talk.”

He set the bag on the kitchen counter, digging around and pulling out a few things. He took your arm and wiped it off with something that burned over the skin, carefully wrapping some gauze over the raw flesh. He set the bag on the ground and went into the cupboard, taking out a glass. He filled it with water and took out the bottle of honey from the pantry, squeezing a good amount inside before he mixed it up and stuck a tea bag in it before nuking it. He stirred it again when it was done and handed it to you. You took a cautious sip but it made your throat feel better and you smiled.

“Nearly drowned on a mission once. The medic said his mom would do that whenever he had a really bad sore throat and it did the trick.”

“You almost drowned? I thought you were superman,” you said. Jensen smiled and rubbed the back of his neck. “You were holding your breath when you were swimming earlier, weren’t you, testing yourself.”

“Don’t want to be in that position again,” he said. “We will keep our distance from the water if we practice outdoors again. You did good. I see why you got away the first time.”

“Well, I feel like a dumbass,” you said, shaking your head.

“I’m the dumbass, not you. It was dangerous to do that so close to the water. It was dangerous to do in the first place without telling you.”

“Yeah but I understood your point. If shit goes wrong, I can’t panic, no matter how much I want to,” you said.

“I’m still sorry. I’m going to clean up and go out for awhile. I might not come home tonight,” he said.

“I thought you living here was so I’m not alone,” you said.

“One night won’t kill you. There’s no real threats against you at the moment anyways. Besides, I think I said I would keep my private life away from the house,” he said, giving you a look.

“Oh. You’re looking for a hookup tonight,” you said. “You don’t seem like a hookup guy.”

“I don’t think that’s your concern. Just...don’t worry if you don’t see me the rest of the day,” he said before he headed to his room.

“Alrighty then,” you said. “You do you, Jensen.”

It was just after midnight when you were in the mood for a snack. You skipped down the stairs, whistling as you hopped into the kitchen.

“What are-”

You screamed and jumped back into the kitchen, a weary looking Jensen sitting up on the couch.

“Wow, you are loud,” he said, blinking slowly. You narrowed your eyes and he groaned.

“Are you drunk?” you asked, walking over as he laid back down.

“Very. I didn’t quite make it to my room,” he said.

“You land anybody?” you asked.

“No. Just wanted a drink really, got carried away,” he said. He threw his arm over his face and sighed. You went back over to the kitchen, finding some leftovers from dinner as Jensen sat up. “Shit, I was supposed to have dinner with you tonight.”

“I offered. It wasn’t a thing. I’m gonna eat the leftovers anyways,” you said as you stuck the container in the microwave. You got out a fork and felt him watching you while you found a pasta bowl to put the food in. “Can you stop staring?”

“Be slow. Is it just me or do you see that small red light outside the back door?” he asked. You risked a small glance out the kitchen window but you didn’t see anything. “It’s on the treeline.”

“No,” you said, popping the food out of the microwave and sticking it in the bowl. You walked over to where he was and looked outside again, still seeing nothing. “There’s nothing there. You’re still drunk.”

“True but I recognize small lights in dark places,” he said, forcing himself to stand. “Take your food into my room.”

“Why?” you asked.

“Cause I’m about to find out who the fuck is in the backyard,” he said, taking his gun out of his back tholster. “Go. Now. Call the police if I’m not back in two minutes.”

“Be careful,” you said. He nodded but he was already pushing on your back and walking you upstairs into his room. He pulled the door shut behind you and you stood there for a moment, taking a bite of your pasta. You sat down on his bed, watching the door.

Almost two minutes later it opened and he took a deep breath.

“You had a paparazzi spying on your property from your neighbor Doug’s yard. I like Doug.”

“What’d he do?”

“Punched the paparazzi guy in the face. He has teenage daughters and you know how dads are when they think grown men are trying to take pictures of their daughters in their bedrooms. Cops are coming but you’re fine,” he said.

“I should go apologize,” you said.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. Doug said we ever need something or if you’re in trouble, head over there. He’s ex air force.”

“How the Hell is he living in this neighborhood then?”

“His wife is some famous singer or something. I didn’t catch the whole thing. Point is, there’s no threat. I did get this pap’s name and credentials though so he and his office will be hearing from me in the morning.”

“You did all that in two minutes?”

“I’m efficient.”

“I see,” you said. “Well...thanks. Have a snack before bed. It’ll help.”

“You’re not scared?” he asked.

“No. Why would I be?” you asked. He stared at you and you left his room, Jensen clearing his throat when you were in the hall. “What?”

“I don’t get you. You should be scared, at least a little scared.”

“Well I’m not. It was a paparazzi. I’m fine, don’t worry about it,” you said. “Goodnight, Jensen.”

“You jump at me but not the fact someone was spying on you. You don’t freak out over me nearly drowning you but you get scared of someone taking you. You’re not afraid of the night or being alone but you gave in easier than I expected when I said I’d stay here all the time.”

“Maybe it’s because I trust you. I don’t know. I’m fine. Goodnight,” you said.

“I didn’t say it was a problem,” he said. You shook your head and returned your bowl down to the kitchen. A minute later you were up in your bedroom and crawling under the covers, taking a deep breath. The bed was cool again and you pulled your covers up around you, a quiet knock at the door making you open your eyes.

“What?” you called.

“Can I come in?” he asked.

“Why?”

“Because I remembered your day job is to pretend and you probably are very good at pretending in most any situation, even scary ones,” he said.

“What’s your point?” you said as you sat up.

“I think you’re a little shook up and I think I agreed to be nicer. I know a thing or two about feeling that way,” he said.

“Jensen. Go to bed. That’s an order,” you said.

“Yes mam.”

It was quiet and you sat back down in bed, the door suddenly opening. He walked in with a blanket and put it over you, ignoring your pout.

“I said-”

“My job is to protect you. Even from your own head sometimes. Goodnight,” he said as he pulled the door shut after himself.

“You’re still ridiculous, Ackles.”

Two Weeks Later

“How’s the manager search going?” asked Jared when he and Gen were over for dinner one night.

“Fine,” you said, catching Jensen walk past the dining room in his suit.

“So what’s it like having a bodyguard?” asked Gen as you caught Jensen’s eyes. He quickly turned his head away and left.

“Fine,” you said.

“Jay says you guys don’t talk much,” said Jared.

“Not so much. We were starting to...he stopped talking to me for the most part a few weeks ago. He said he needs to focus so whatever,” you said. Gen made a face but you shoved another forkful of food in your mouth. Jared asked about the show some and you knew he was doing it on purpose which you were grateful for.

You didn’t quite understand why Jensen’s demeanor had suddenly changed. It was sweet how he had given you a blanket, not just any but one that was his personally. The morning after the paparazzi incident you were planning to tell him just that but he was already awake, in his suit and very grumpy. At first you thought he was hungover but it was just him. You’d caught him in his workout clothes once but besides that, he was all business now and didn’t talk to you unless you were going out.

“He’s cute,” said Gen, your head lifting up to realize Jared had left the room. “Jensen. Not my type but he’s hot and he’s a good guy.”

“I know he’s Jared’s friend but do you know him?” you asked.

“Yeah. I’ve known him a long time. He’s different when he’s working a job. I’ve never really seen him when he’s under a contract. Outside of work, he’s the sweetest thing there ever was, kinda like Jare in that way, you know? I’m a little surprised at his behavior to be honest. He’s a really close friend and he’s just not himself right now.”

“I’ve seen him be sweet but it’s rare. I thought we were getting along better compared to the jumping down each other’s throats we were doing but he doesn’t talk to me anymore. I don’t get it.”

“...Y/N, it’s kind of obvious what’s going on.”

“What is?”

“He likes you,” she said. “The way he looks at you-”

“He gets paid to look at me.”

“You pay him to look at you like that?” she asked. “No. That’s all him. The guy works and works and the reason he is single is cause he’s afraid he can’t do his job if he’s worried about dying and leaving the poor girl at home alone. Well you...he likes you. What do you think his genius move would be to fix that?”

“Push me away,” you said as she sat back and nodded. “He doesn’t like me. He thinks I’m a bitch.”

“Ms. Y/L/N,” said Jensen, suddenly appearing at the doorway and you knew there was no way he hadn’t just heard at least part of that conversation. With a swallow you stood, Gen finishing off her glass of wine. You followed Jensen around the corner, his body stiff.

“Listen, we were just-”

“I don’t really care. I wanted to inform you that your mother just phoned. She and the rest of your family will be coming to visit tomorrow.”

“What do you mean rest of my family?”

“Your father and brothers,” said Jensen, your face already snarling. “They said-”

“Mom was supposed to come. Just mom. Not the step family from hell,” you said. “My step brother has a record. Did you know that?”

“Yes, I was aware. Nothing abhorrent,” he said.

“Nick and Michael, the fucking wonder twins, they left me alone with a group of random weirdos to go get high on pot,” you said. “I was twelve years old!”

“I believe they will be coming as well,” said Jensen. “I will make myself scarce for the-”

“Oh no you will not,” you said. “Tomorrow is Monday and you work on Monday’s last I checked.”

“I did not say I would not work. I said I would be scarce,” he said. “Simply wanted to inform you before surprise guests appear.”

“Lovely,” you mumbled. “Tomorrow’s going to be awesome.”

__________

A/N: Read Part 4 here!

#spn #supernatural #jensen ackles #jensen ackles au #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #au #bodyguard!AU #bodyguard!jensen #bodyguard!jensen x reader #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction

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calpops · 4 years

Text

three month surprise | c.h.

Calum surprises you with a gift as your daughter turns three months old.

1.5k words

dates with cal masterlist

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Nights grow easier for you and Calum as the fact that Mila is okay starts to sink in. New rationalizations turn into mantras and coping mechanisms for long nights when neither of you want to sleep. The doctors wouldn’t have sent her home if she wasn’t okay. She’s okay. Calum repeats those words for him and for you, to convince you both that sleep is needed and when you wake she will still be in her bassinet by your bed, sound and sweet as ever. Though it’s a struggle, and for her first week you sleep in shifts just to be sure, as time goes on acceptance comes with it.

Calum’s parents’ visit helps with the anxiety. Having them on standby eases worries, having two more people around who love Mila reinforces the fact that if anything were to happen someone would be there, someone would help. His parents' adoration and instant love for her fills you both with warmth. The first moment they laid eyes on her a silence befell them, his mom’s mouth slightly parting with a tiny gasp and eyes wide with joy and disbelief. His dad stood still and quiet as he took her in his arms and finally broke to coo at her and sway with a rhythm that always puts her to sleep. Their help has been immeasurable in settling in at home and finding peace. Their departure came with tears and promises to visit soon—and requests to bring her to them so she can see where Calum grew up. You both have every intention to make a trip of it when she’s older and better able to handle that amount of travel. For now, zoom calls and FaceTime become a regularity so her grandparents can see her.

Time passes and her first month of life goes without incident and harbors love and laughter; tiny moments that add up to everything encompasses your time with her. Ashton, Luke, Michael and Mali all pop in and help out when they can. Her second month goes by in a blue and all too soon her third month of life approaches and Calum decides he needs to mark the occasion with something special. He keeps his thoughts to himself, wanting it to be a surprise for you, something sentimental you and Mila will always be able to remember.

“Good morning, little love,” Calum says in a soft whisper as Mila stares up at him from her bassinet. He gently picks her up, cradles her to him so her head rests against his chest and his arms wind around her. She’s still tiny, smaller than an average three month old though that’s to be expected. “We have big plans today, but you have to keep it a secret from mommy.”

Mila doesn’t squirm or squabble or make a noise and Calum takes it as a good sign of faith that their secret is safe. He carries her to the living room, planting little kisses to her smushed cheek as he goes, every moment with her precious and filled with love.

You’ve already left the house to run some errands and chase after some normalcy, as much love and happiness as there has been for nearly three months there has also been lingering anxiety and shutting out the rest of the world in favor of being with each other and Mila. You and Calum had a talk about it the night previous, thick words and teary eyes finally coming to the conclusion that something needed to give. You start with a baby step; going to a cafe with a friend and getting a few groceries on the way home. Calum uses your time away for the surprise.

He’s all set up for the surprise, supplies all laid out across the coffee table, his second in command curled up on the couch with a slightly wagging tail as he and Mila come into view. He settles on the couch next to Duke and in front of all the supplies needed. A long sheet of paper claims most of the table, paint, pallet and a rag claim the rest. Mila yawns in Calum’s arms, the little breath shutting her eyes for a moment and making Calum wrinkle his nose at how adorable everything she does is.

“This won’t take long, then we can take a nap,” Calum promises with a small laugh and gives her another kiss on the cheek then readjusts his hold so she lays on his lap and is held by his arms. He gently picks up one of her tiny hands and can’t help but coo, “Look at those hands, the cutest little things I’ve ever seen. Mommy’s gonna love this.”

Mila lets out a small noise, filled with joy, something akin to a laugh and Calum’s grin grows with the sound. She’s still naturally quiet and Calum enjoys the fact that you always tell him she gets it from him. But he loves to hear her little noises and can’t wait for the day that a true laugh sounds from her, until he hears dada and I love you. For now he’s content with the little noises of happiness and contentment she’s able to produce. Another small one comes from her as he takes her other hand and makes more comments about how cute she is, how tiny her hands are, how sweet she is, how much he loves her.

The surprise doesn’t take too long to make, Mila being compliant and relaxed helping the endeavor. Duke’s nonchalance and indifference also aiding in the smooth sailing. Everything is picked up and tucked away by the time you get home.

You’re not greeted by Calum and Mila as you mostly expected, instead you walk into silence and confusion. It’s only mid morning and usually Mila is awake and being tended to in some way. When you finish with the few groceries you find your husband and baby in the living room, one half asleep on the couch and the other sound and out in a strong and sure pair of arms.

“Cal, love, wake up,” you gently coax in a soft voice so as not to startle him.

“I’m not asleep,” he answers almost instantly but his eyes spring open and his tired voice betrays him.

“I’ll take her,” you offer and reach your arms out for Mila. “I’ll put her in our room. I don’t want her to fall,” you say though you’re sure she wouldn’t. She’s in between the couch and Calum, nestled against him with her head resting on his chest. Heart beats and a rhythmic sway are one of two ways to get her to sleep.

“I’ve got her. And we’ve got something for you,” Calum announces as he carefully sits up with a sleeping Mila still content and safe in his arms.

“Something for me?” you ponder and bite your lip, wondering if it’s a special occasion. “I don’t need anything but you two,” you say and when Duke pops his head up from beneath blankets you laugh and correct yourself. “You three.”

“Indulge me,” Calum says and stands, goes to you and gives you a kiss and a moment to greet Mila before stalking off to the bedroom. He leaves you baffled but comes back before you can call after him or follow them down the hallway. Mila is in one arm, waking with heavy eyes, and his other hides behind his back. You raise an eyebrow in question and slowly approach him when he beckons you with a look.

“I hope it’s nothing expensive,” you comment and when Calum shakes his head you feel a bit better. You’d much rather be giving Mila gifts than receiving any.

“Open it,” he says and finally brings his arm from behind his back to reveal a rolled up parchment.

You give him a small look before unwinding a red ribbon from the center of the paper and rolling it open. In your hands are the hands of those you love the most. Three little sets of prints lay on the page in different colored paint. Four hands in blue and pink right in the center and scattered paws in black dots along the page. Your lip quivers and your eyes blink back tears as a shaky breath escapes you at the sentiment of the present.

“We left a spot for you,” Calum informs and gestures to the space just big enough for your hands between his hands and Mila’s. Your fingers clutch the page with heartfelt emotions coursing through you.

You don’t have the words to express your thanks but a kiss for each helps to get the message across. “I don’t understand. Why? What prompted this?” you ask, baffled but appreciative of the gift. “It’s not Mother’s Day… is it?”

Calum laughs and shakes his head but pulls you into his free side. You find your way into his hold and revel in the comfort as you find yourself gazing at your daughter. “Mila’s three months now. I wanted you to have something special.”

“Thank you,” you say and lift yourself on the top of your toes to give him a kiss. “I love it. And all of you,” you add on and smile as you realize that though the last three months have been filled with trials and tribulations it’s also been the happiest time of your life.

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heart-strong · 4 years

Text

An Ode To Science Beaker PJ’s- Spencer Reid x gn!Reader

gif credit to @0420-1102

Summary: gn!reader takes care of Spencer after coming home from being held captive by Tobias Hankel (season 2 episode 14 and 15). Reader and Spencer have been dating for two years.

A/N: YALL I think my fics are just going to be long because I love writing so much and I haven’t had writing inspiration in so long. Thank you for all the kind words about I Have a Fever, if you haven’t checked out my first Spencer/ Criminal Minds fic yet please do I’m so proud of it but heres this new one!

Also I mention this in my About me section but I’ll mention it here, I think Penelope and I are similar in that we call everyone “darling” just as a term of endearment, so penny calls reader darling that it.

This is also part one of a two-part set. I wanted to add a little more comfort but I loved the natural end to this without it. It is not written yet so I don’t know when it will be posted but I will link it here. when it is posted.

There is going to be smut in part two (An Ode to Golden Ratio PJs) and while there are still gender natural pronouns reader is going to have female anatomy. I’ve never written smut before and female anatomy is what I know from personal experience.

WC: 2.8k

TW: Regular cm stuff and topics covered in season 2 episode 14 and 15, (DID, dilaudid, self harm, abduction), talk and description of self harm but no relapse, any others let me know I’ll add it no question.

Again pt. 2 here

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Spencer Reid and you had been dating since the two of you were set up on a sorta blind date by your mutual best friend Penelope Garcia. While you couldn’t possibly know everything that Spencer went through you had some idea from being Penny’s friend for years. Two years strong with Spencer and you felt like you were starting to know him better than his team.

It was Super Bowl Sunday and you were out with the team. The game was over and Spencer, Anderson, yourself, and a few other FBI agents you had just met that night were sharing a table. You are draped on Spencer’s shoulder watching him getting quizzed by Anderson when JJ walks by, she ruffles his hair and takes a phone call outside. You fix the curls out of Spencer’s eyes and kiss his cheek when he answers the question just in the nick of time.

And then there’s a case. The team was called to Georgia and everything was going well, or as well as a murder investigation can go when one night Spencer missed his usual phone call with you. He would check-in, at least a minute, letting you know he was okay. So you weren’t surprised when Penelope knocked on your door.

“Hi, darling. Um, I am going to go to Georgia and I wanted to tell you because, well because you and Spence. Somethings wrong. You may want to sit down.”

“What happened to him?” you motion Penelope into your apartment and to your couch.

“Well, uh, boy wonder and JJ were sent to a witness’s house to question him. But the witness well he was the unsub.”

“What?” you look at your best friend. You didn’t want to believe what you were thinking.

“Tobias Hankel, uh the uh unsub took Spencer. I am going because he is highly skilled with computers. I promise you, I will bring him back to you.”

“Okay, so what do we know? Do we know if he’s okay?”

“The team has a video feed on him. They can’t track him, so I’m going to go. That’s my specialty darling, I’ll get him back to you. The image we have of him is okay right now. He’s tied to a chair and clearly wounded but he is okay. The unsub has multiple personalities and one of his personalities is feeding him and giving him water.”

“Okay sounds good. You leaving now then?”

“Right now. I knew you needed to know before I left though. I love you darling stay strong for your boy wonder.” Penelope popped up off the couch as you rose and gave you a tight squeeze before floating out the door.

“Yeah okay. Love you too.” you followed and closed yourself out of the world.

It was another three days. Three days of not hearing from Spencer, but at least you knew why. He was being held captive. Three days of knowing your boyfriend was in pain and danger, a murderer holding him and streaming his whereabouts to his friends. No word from Spencer. No word from Penny. No word from no one.

Until you woke up to Derek Morgan calling you at 2:30 in the morning.

“Hello? Derek is everything okay?”

“(y/n),” it was Spencer. His voice was rough and scratchy and maybe a couple of octaves lower.

“Holy shit Spencer. You’re okay.”

“I’m safe. And I’m going to be with you as soon as possible baby. I just have to go to the hospital first.”

“Spencer Walter Reid come home to me as soon as humanly possible. I just need you.”

“We’re headed to the hospital now. It’s just bruising and a gash on my head.”

You heard the team behind him and just needed him. Safe in your arms, safe out of the field.

“Spence just come to my apartment when you get home and I can take care of you.” you hear Morgan wolf whistle from your words. “I’m glad he can make jokes right now, that helps me know you are fine.”

It was so early you tried to go back to sleep. But you couldn’t, finally getting out of your bed at five and making coffee. After trying to eat something you couldn’t stay still anymore you decided to do some chores. You were folding laundry and found a pajama set Spencer had left at your apartment, it was soft flannel and covered in little beakers. You noted the company on the tag and a hole in the knee showed how loved they were. You went to the store and got his favorite peppermint tea and snacks, making sure to make it feel somewhat homely for him, and finally returned home where you sat on your couch sewing up the knee waiting for him to come home to you.

It’s past 8 pm, you have the pajamas folded beside you and a movie playing on your tv when you hear movement on the other side of your door. The sound of a key and the doorknob moving pulls for your attention when Spencer walks into your apartment.

“Charming Boy, what are you doing?” you grab his bags since he was clearly in pain. “Where’s Derek?”

“He dropped me off?”

You immediately noticed that Spencer had downplayed his injuries. A black eye was forming on his sharp cheekbone and you looked to his hairline where there was medical tape assuming that was the gash he had mentioned on the phone and his wrists were red from the restraints Penelope mentioned. But he hadn’t let go of his side since he entered your apartment and it just elevated your terror when he yelped from you taking his bag. What in the world happened to him. “Spencer why didn’t you tell me?” you lowered the bags to the ground and took his free hand and cheek in your hand, trying to get him to look at you.

“I was taken and beaten up for days but I’m good. I’m with you.” he kissed you but it didn’t feel like the boy that left you a week ago.

You pulled back from the kiss and looked at him. His eyes were distant and avoided yours looking to his messenger bag on the floor. You kiss him on the nose and he plays along crinkling his nose but his eyes don’t move. He is still dazed and out of it when you pick up his bag and drag him to your room.

Spencer didn’t like therapy, after the L.D.S.K about a year ago you asked him if he wanted to talk to someone outside of the FBI. “ I know all the tricks, I can’t learn anything new from them.” and while you knew it was an unhealthy view you were not going to force him to do anything he didn’t want to do.

“Hey, Charming can you look at me?”

You had brought him to the side of the bed he would sleep on when he stayed the night and he was staring out the window with his messenger bag on his lap and was holding on to it like it was the only connection to the world. He looks up at you standing in front of him. But his gaze quickly moved to the window and moon and sky again. “I’ll be right back.”

You grab his pajama set from the couch, a couple of glasses of water and a first aid kit then return to him, he hadn’t moved. After setting the items on the bed and the water on your bedside table you sit by him. You brush away stray hairs off his forehead and place a kiss on his hair. He smells like chemicals and raw fish.

The Spencer scent of his shampoo and matching body wash that reminded you of Christmas and the spilled coffee lingering on his sweaters was overpowered. Gone. You could spend days wrapped up the cardigans he left behind but right now he was nowhere near that version, in a shirt that was clearly Derek’s as it fell off his collar bones.

“Hey Spence, do you want to take a shower?

“Do you want me to?”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, it’s just, you’ve been held by an unsub for three days,”

“Two days, 13 hours.”

“Okay, so about three days. Charming wouldn’t it make you feel better?”

“I can if you want me to.”

The short answers made you very uncomfortable. The words and avoidance of a shower were very non- Spencer, you wanted his rambling back. You wanted the boy that left you a week ago, but he wasn’t coming back, so you just wanted him to feel a little bit better. Safe.

“Spencer, can you tell me where your head is at right now?”

“My head is in the chair I was strapped to for 61 hours.”

“Can I ask you to elaborate on that Spencer?” you didn’t want to push him but no one had told you what happened to him during those days and you wanted to know everything after he showed up worse for wear to you. “Did they touch the spots that are off-limits Spence?”

Spencer Reid was the most beautiful, handsome, and attractive person you had ever met. After the one time you hung out with the team, it was a no-brainer for Penelope that she needed to set the two of you up. And now years of knowing him and getting to know him differently than his team the two of you were comfortable together. And you quickly learned things before the team. You had planned to go with Spencer to see his mom when he was given vacation time, but you weren’t given time off; you left your retail job a month later to pursue your dreams. And like his mom before the Fisher King case, the team didn’t know about his ‘off-limits spots’ and this spaced-out man sitting before you. You knew they definitely didn’t know about his off-limits spots because you learned about them when you were making out one night and untucked his shirt. His ribs, his stomach, and wrist were the hardest for him when unsubs taunted him. The restraints, the groping, the beatings. They were also the places he put all his frustration out when his anxieties were out of control. But it had been two years.

“Spencer, did you hear me?”

“Um well he, Tobias took his belt around my arm, a make-shift tourniquet, and drugged me. He hit me in the head.” he gestured to his forehead. “And when they found me, the team, one of his personalities had a knife to my wrists.”

“Oh, Charming. Can I see?” he nods and you take his hand and unbutton the cuff of his sleeve, and there it is. A clear bandage was tight to the skin covering a dozen of cuts next to light scars from Spencer’s own hand. You couldn’t help but think two years down the drain even though the marks weren’t from Spencer, they sure looked like it. “Okay, bathroom Charming boy.”

The two of you walked to the bathroom and while Spencer sat on the closed toilet lid you ran the bath. Going back to your room you grabbed the first aid kit and his pajamas.

“Do you need anything, want anything to eat or drink?”

“Do you have peppermint tea?”

“I got some for your visit, I can make you some while you relax. Anything else?”

“My shampoo and conditioner are in my go-bag. Not that I don’t like the scent of your stuff I just want mine.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, honey. Okay let me get those for you and then I can take your bandage off and we can clean it up.”

As you walk back into the bedroom Spencer yells “Actually it is better to cover wounds to help them heal properly.”

“I know Charming but I want to clean it and switch it to a new bandage. Better padding you know you were in a hospital and a plane with that one. Whoa,” Spencer was in the tub already and you were shocked to see him naked. A big bruise was wrapping around his rib cage. You had never seen your boyfriend in less than a button-up with the top three or four buttons undone. “Sorry, um I’ll go make something to eat and boil water.” you go to close the door.

“(y/n), wait.” his eyes were finally starting to come back in focus, “ Weren’t you going to help with this,” he places his arm on the lip of the tub.

“Sweetie, you’re, you are,” you are trying to look at his face and not the wounds or his collar bones or his chest or his below the water.

“Oh,” and just like that, his eyes unfocused.

“No Charming, it’s just, we’ve never been shirtless in front of each other.” you go to sit by the tub on the floor of your bathroom, grabbing his hand still limp on the lip of the tub. “Are you okay with this?”

“Yes, I’m okay, just can you not look at me like I’m different.” he looks at the arm and your hand holding it. “Just because my arm looks like this again.”

“Spencer, I didn’t look at you differently when you told me originally, I’m not going to look at you differently now. One sec,” you scoot on the tile and grab the first aid kit off the floor in the doorway where you dropped it. “Are you okay if I clean it and change the bandage?”

“Um, yeah, yeah you can, thank you.”

You grab his hand and put the kit in your lap. Grabbing an alcohol pad and running on the edge, and slowly but surely you get the bandage off his arm. You stand and get a washcloth off the shelf above the toilet and wet it with cool water.

By the time you finish bandaging his arm again the water Spencer was sitting in had gone cold and he is shivering.

“Can you make tea now and, um,” he looks down at his arm covered in new beige badges. Boring, but no one could see it anymore.

“Yes of course I can, um, I left a pair of pj’s on the bed you left them here.”

“Thank you.” he looked so small and scared in the tub.

You left thinking he was just bashful because he was in the tub and went and started a teapot. As you’re heating up a pot of water for mac and cheese you hear him padding into the kitchen.

“Do you feel a little better?”

“Definitely.” he sat at your kitchen table and you walked over to him. “Thank you for fixing my pajamas (y/n), I’m glad you had them. I thought I lost them, left them in a hotel on a case.”

“Yeah they were here, I can fix other clothes if you want.” you card your hands through his damp hair and twist his front fringe around your fingers.

“I would like that, thank you.” he closes his eyes as you comb through his hair and hold the back of his head. “Um, can we just have peanut butter and jelly, I just want to snuggle with you and I can’t wait for the water to boil.”

“That sounds perfect, do you still want tea?”

“Yes please.”

You kiss the top of his head, his hair finally smelling like Spencer. Your home. And as you let go you don’t feel that sinking feeling you usually do when walking away from Spencer. He joins you at the counter and pulls out two knives. You grab the bread slices and the two of you make sandwiches. When the kettle shouts you grab two cups and tea bags from the box and pour out water. Spencer grabs the plate with the sandwiches and follows you to your bedroom.

Once there you set the cups down and grab your phone and turn on some quiet music. When you turn around Spencer is already under the blankets and honest to god nibbling on his sandwich. You go to your closet to get your own pajama set, granted not as cute as your boyfriends, and join him.

“How are you feeling?” Spencer asks.

“I am so happy that you are here. Can I kiss your silly face?”

“Please do.”

You launch at him. Your flannel-clad legs wrap around Spencer’s hips. His hands go to your hair as his tongue starts to brush your lower lip and you open your mouth to accept his tongue. Pulling away from his mouth, his beautiful, talented, and oh so addictive mouth, you look to him as long lashes flutter open his big brown eyes you’re hit by a train.

“Move in with me?”

———

Update (May 2, 2021)

Part two here it is nsfw

#criminal minds #ssa derek morgan #ssa emily prentiss #ssa hotchner #ssa jennifer jareau #ssa rossi #ssa dr spencer reid #mental health #spencer reid fic #gn!reader #spencer x reader #criminal minds fic #fanfiction #spencer fanfic #my work

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pinkja · 4 years

Text

Caring (Abby Anderson x Female Reader)

Request:

Still looking for prompts? Well, how about the reader and Abby are on patrol and the reader gets hurt. Abby needs to find shelter since it's winter or smth and take care of her. (Kinda basically the the part where Joel is hurt in the first game but more couples thing. Something cute and fluffy. Abby trying to make jokes to keep the mood light etc while they wait for someone to find them)

Tw for violence

—

Abby looked away for two minutes. Two goddamn measly minutes. She left to go get some firewood and as soon as she got ready to go back to you, a scream rang through the air. It was you. Addy immideatly dropped all the firewood and ran towards your direction.

There were three of them, as far as Abby could tell. Some sort of survival group. You were on the ground, one of them had pushed you down, and they were surrounding you.

Abby saw red and immediately pulled out her gun. She managed to shoot one in the head, before another one rushed her, tackling her to the ground before punching her in the face.

“Abby!” You screamed her name and moved to aid her, only for you to be grabbed by the last man standing. You hit him in the face with your elbow and jumped on the man punching Abby, placing him in a chokehold. He staggered backwards and you tightened your grip as he tried to shake you off. Despite your efforts, he was successful and you fell to the floor with a thump. Abby kicked him in the stomach and watched him fall to the floor.

Abby snapped his neck without remorse.

Once Abby turned around, she was met with the sight of the last guy stomping his foot onto your head and chest, causing you to gasp for breath. Abby tackles him to the ground and started smashing his head into the ground. She repeated the action over and over until blood covered her hands and the back of his head was practically flat.

“Abby! Abby, baby, it’s over! It’s over!” You wrapped your arms around her middle and brought her back down to Earth. You pulled Abby off of the man, and she turned around to hug you, tightly. You were light in her arms, almost limp.

You could’ve…died, Abby realizes.

You could’ve died.

Oh god, you could’ve died.

Abby buried her face into your chest and listened as you let out shaky breaths. Who knows what would’ve happened if she hadn’t gotten there, if she was too far away to reach you. Abby didn’t even want to imagine it.

“Are you ok?” Abby asked, getting off of her feet and staring you in the eyes. Your pupils were dilated and you wobbled a bit before grabbing Abby’s arms to steady yourself.

“I’m dizzy…”You whispered, burying your head in her neck.

In the forest behind them, a voice spoke up. “I think the gunshot came from this way. Hopefully the guys are alright.” The voice was far, but whoever was talking could catch up and spot them in due time.

“Come on, baby. We gotta go.” Abby grabbed your hand and picked up your bag. You both quickly left the scene, wanting to get away from whoever was left in this group.

As they got a bit farther, a shout came from where they previously were. “FUCK! THEY’RE ALL DEAD!” That declaration was followed by an order to find out who was responsible. It was getting harder for you to walk, Abby could tell. But you couldn’t get caught, she wouldn’t let that happen. At that point, Abby picked your limp body up and ran as fast as she could.

Snow started to fall as Abby called you to see if you were still conscious. You responded, but Abby could tell that it was getting harder for you to speak. She had to find somewhere for you to rest. Anywhere, as long as it was safe. That was the only thing on her mind.

The snow fell quickly, and Abby could feel the cold seep into her skin, no matter how many layers she had on. She had been running for a while, and the cold made her lungs feel like they were going to burst. Just as she was about to stop for a break, she spotted it. A cabin, relatively in good condition from the outside.

Abby quickly made her way over to the door and set you down. “Hold on, ok? I’m going to check for Infected.” Abby pulled out a gun from her bag and handed it to you. “If you see anything that moves, shoot it, then call me, ok?” You nodded, taking the gun out of her hands. You leaned on the wall for support.

Abby walked into the house with her gun drawn, and her footsteps slow. She wanted to rush, wanted to get you to safety as soon as possible, but she knew her impatience could’ve gotten them both killed.

After a quick search of the house, she found that it was in stable condition, and there were no Infected in or around the house. Abby guesssed someone had come in and cleared this place before.

Abby quickly ran back to you, and once you saw her you smiled. Abby could see how your fatigue caused your eyes to droop slightly.

“Come on, baby. Get up.” Abby lifted you up and led you into the house.

“No Infected?” You asked, as Abby took you to one of the bedrooms. It was a bit dusty and the blinds didn’t go up all the way, but it was still in good condition.

“No. Area’s pretty clear all around.” Abby set you down gently on the bed and knelt beside you. “How you feeling, baby?”

“Still dizzy. It really hurt.” You whispered, looking up at Abby through hooded eyes. Abby brushed some hair from your forehead and placed a hand on your cheek. You leaned into her touch.

“I think I saw some pain medicine in the bathroom. I’m gonna go get it, ok?” You shook your head no, holding onto her hand. You didn’t want to let her go now that you were both safe again. “I’ll be right back. Trust me.” Abby gave your hand a squeeze and stood up, walking into the bathroom to look into the cabinet. When she found what she was looking for, she walked back to you and gave you two pills. She reached into her bag and gave you a bottle of water. “Drink.” Abby ordered. You complied.

“Thank you, Abby…” You closed the bottle, setting it beside you. You could speak a bit better now that you had some water. “Not just for this but…but for saving me back there. If you hadn’t come I would’ve…would’ve–” Abby cut you off.

“Don’t think about that, ok. I’m just glad you’re safe.” Abby laid next to you and gave you a kiss on your cheek, kicking her shoes off afterwards. “You need to rest, alright? If it doesn’t snow that much tonight then we’ll leave in the morning.” You nodded, scooting closer to her. Abby wrapped her arms around you, just so she knew you were there. Abby set her chin on top of your head and listened to you breathe until you fell asleep.

Abby was the first to wake when morning came. Your breaths weren’t as irregular as they were the day before. Your skin wasn’t as heated, and you looked peaceful.

Abby looked down to see your arms were wrapped tightly around her middle. Abby smiled and removed your arms and quietly stepped out of the bed. She walked over to the window and lifted up the blinds just a bit. The snow was a few inches off the ground. It wasn’t anything they couldn’t walk back through, but depending on how you were feeling, Abby didn’t want to chance it. Abby gave you one last look before going back downstairs to see if there was anything edible. The only thing they had now were a few burritos from yesterday’s dinner, and who knows when someone would notice they were missing and come and look for them.

Abby walked into the kitchen and started rummaging through the cabinets and fridge. They were, surprisingly, full. Whoever was staying there before must’ve been living there pretty recently. Abby turned one of the knobs on the stove to test if the electricity worked, and it did. She brought out a pan and some eggs from the fridge and started to make breakfast.

Once she was finished, she put the eggs on a plate, grabbed a fork from one of the drawers, and walked back upstairs towards you. You were still sleeping, facing away from the door. Abby walked around the bed and sat beside you, placing a hand on your shoulder. She felt bad for wanting to wake you, but you needed to eat something.

“(Y/n)? (Y/n), wake up.” Abby shook you lightly. Your eyes opened just a bit, and you rolled over on your back. “Come on, baby, you gotta eat.” You groaned, rubbing at your eyes as you opened them fully.

“Morning, Abby.” You tried to sit up, only to go back down with a groan.

“You feeling any better?” Abby asked, trying keep her voice soft. Her eyes scanned your face, trying to detect any further discomfort.

“My body hurts. I think I hit the ground pretty hard. What you got there?” You eyed the plate, still trying to wake yourself up.

“Eggs. This place is pretty stocked up. Someone must’ve been living here recently.” Abby gave you the plate and helped you sit up. “Eat.” She ordered once more. You took a couple of bites of food as Abby stroked your hair, a gesture to try and be supportive.

“Here.” You said, tilting the plate towards Abby. A gesture for her to eat as well.

Abby shook her head. “No, no. I’m fine. You need it more than I do.” She pushed the plate back towards you, only for you to refuse and repeat your gesture.

“I’m not eating anymore till you eat.” You said with a pout. For emphasis you added your famous (or not-so-famous according to Abby) puppy dog eyes.

Abby told herself she would not cave. She would not cave. She would not–

“Fine! God you’re such a mom.” Abby grabbed the fork from your hand and took a bite of the eggs. “Happy?”

“First off, I’m not a mom.” You said, fake hurt in your voice.

“Sounds like something a mom would say.” Abby teased, causing you to hit her arm lightly.

“And second of all, yes, I am happy.” You said before continuing your breakfast, a small smile on your face.

And as Abby stared at you, she felt a strong urge to stay in this moment, right there. Where you two were happy, smiling and joking together, laying beside each other all the while not worrying about any Infected or other survivor groups. This little piece of domestic life is something that Abby wanted to give you for the rest of your life. Abby wished she could make that wish come true, but she knew it would only be a matter of time before you felt better, or someone from base would come to get the two of you.

But for now, she would continue to take care of you. To keep you close to her, and to love you and give you a life that you deserved. That you both deserved.

It was the least Abby could do.

#abby anderson #abby x reader #abby x female reader #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x female reader #the last of us part ii #the last of us part 2 #tlou fanfic #tlou2 fanfic #tlou #tlou2

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sleepdeprivedheretic · 4 years

Text

Tongue Tied

Notes: This is another Valentine’s Day fic, except it’s a bit shorter.This is for those who rather have pure, straight up fluff

Setting: I wanted childhood friends au. OOC Tai, kinda. Tried to make it short and sweet for Valentine’s Day, along with my other fic that’s more plot-y and smutty tOTALLY does revolve around yokai: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29427309

When you first met him, you were both about eight. He was round, cheeky, and friendly, greeting you to the new neighborhood. Only being eight, and not really having any friends, you were rather shy. He grinned, holding up a bag of blue gummy sharks. Eagerly but hesitantly, you complied, and he beamed at you with a blush, seemingly to rival the sun as he introduced himself.

“-but ya can call me Tai-chan!”

Regularly, his mom and your mom became close friends, and often brought the two of you to the park. Him being the only familiar, friendly face, you followed him everywhere, like a little puppy. He would be always smiling and talking, falling in step beside you as he munched on whatever or whichever his mom had brought for him, sharing with you, and you offered your own snacks.

He grew on you, taking you everywhere, creating blanket and pillow forts, and promised that the two of you will be best friends forever. Although rather shy, you were extremely protective of him, finding your young self snapping at bullies when they’ve made fun of his weight, and making sure that he was alright. He would look at you shyly yet with a soft grin and rub the back of his head, telling you that you were amazing.

………………..

You were both ten. In two years, you’ve grown very close to him. Of course, his family and doctor worrying about his weight, had put him on a diet. He was still a little round, but had grown a few inches taller. You didn’t care, as long as he was your friend. Who you totally did not have a small crush on. Nope.

The two of you were in his living room, resting in your own separate sleeping bags as Bambi played on the VHS. No matter how many times the two of you seen it, his eyes would always water up when a particular scene came along as he shoved popcorn in his mouth. All you could really do was pat his shoulder gently, causing him to stutter and have the same odd red tint to his cheeks as he laughed nervously. You stared at his odd behavior, but shrugged, reaching for the popcorn as the two of you talked about future dreams and other things as the sleepover crawled on.

By this time, you’ve knew him a bit more, use to hanging out at his house, and his yours. Cooking and baking with each other’s respective moms, was a common weekend thing.

……………………………..

He’d gotten a bit more loud and rowdy, but was still sweet as ever. Of course, being twelve, the two of you were experiencing your own physical and mental changes. Voice cracking, outgrowing baby fat, the two of you were still close. He’d gotten many scrapes and bruises, however, while being rowdy and not as careful, and he’d grumble a little with a pink tint to his cheeks, as you hushed him, placing a Hello Kitty band-aid on his cut.

Although a bit more older, the two of you still drank Capri-sun, watched classics on his VCR, and he didn’t mind that you tagged along wherever he went. Imagine his surprise when you’ve gotten a little braver, not hesitating to cheer him on during sports tryouts, or started doing more things of your own without him. Of course, the both of your parents were wary of the two of you spending the entire night for some weird reason, but you still hung out for most of the day, swapping Pokemon cards and playing on the old gaming system while mindlessly talking like you’ve always done.

…………………..

High school was somewhat different. He was an awkward fifteen year old boy, but head-strong, tall, and a bit more lanky. You were still a little quiet and shy, but the two of you stuck close to each other like glue. He’d drag you to his baseball tournaments, and you’d invite him to your archery ones. He still was rowdy and somewhat of a hyper, cute klutz, grinning from ear to ear with pink cheeks as you sighed, wrapping yet another band-aid around his cuts.

You, being still young, had to bite down an odd feeling that came over you when he was surrounded by girls. You didn’t understand it, they were just being friendly, right? He looked rather uncomfortable, but was still red in the face as he kept making glances at you, a silent plea for help.

It’s when the bullying had started. The whispers and rumors, all because you helped him escape from a gaggle of young teens. He, being protective as always, shot glares and scowls at those who dared even came close to you, telling you that it was alright to defend yourself, and to call on him if he needed anything. So, while there was some bullying, the budding attention from kids hitting puberty, was a bit worse.

He was agitated for some weird reason, yet kept a dopey smile for your sake when you kept receiving love letters and confessions. You didn’t miss the relief in his eyes when you turned them all down, and vice versa when he stated that he wasn’t really interested in most of the people in your school. You didn’t fail to notice that he kept looking at you for an extra two seconds, but dismissed it.

……………

Senior year wasn’t as bad as freshman year. He, with all of his practice in sports and such, grew a bit of muscle mass, but at eighteen, was round and taller, around six foot, easily dwarfing you. Although older teens, you’ve kept in touch despite the crazy amount of tests, finals, and new friends. People were murmuring in awe at how the two of you were so close, and yet weren’t a couple. It didn’t stop either of your ears burning, but neither of you had either dated, only fueling those rumors.

He was very popular, as were you, despite your shyness and liking to blend in. Two peas in a pod, yet almost opposite personalities described him and you. You liking to read, and him liking to play sports and be outside. It didn’t stop you from following him around, him chuckling and ruffling your hair as you played a few games with him, or him hanging out with you at the library.

Of course, a lot of admirers from both sides were jealous because of the two of your closeness. You still politely refused the applicants of the love letters, and he, gaining more courage, stated that he wasn’t really interested in the gaggle of fawners who surrounded him. The two of you had constantly protected each other from unwanted bullies and too pushy one-sided interests while living your own lives.

It took longer than you’d like to admit, but you’ve gotten a part-time job as well as your license, him not wanting to be left behind, followed after. You forever had the image burned in your brain that Monday morning. He, waiting for you, sported a Letterman jacket, beat up sneakers, grinning wildly and proudly as he leaned against his new car. It was an older model, but you were proud of him, and plus, he was still doing things to your chest that you did not understand.

“Get in, Sugar, we’re goin’ fer a spin.” He smiled, holding up his new keys, and you couldn’t help but feel cicadas buzz gently within your stomach.

Prom was different. You weren’t really interested in going, and instead, the two of you spent the night at your house, baking cookies and listening to old songs on the radio. He smiled, wearing your mom’s apron as he swiveled to the music, causing you to laugh more than you should as he mimicked her, cursing about the neighborhood children and gushing about soap operas.

The tiny desserts ended up being burnt, his hair was wild, and the two of you were a laughing mess, reflecting childhood days.

By the end of the night, he looked like he wanted to say something before he left, but instead, gave you one of his warm, gooey smiles that made your heartbeat quicken.

……………..

College had a unique spin to it. Tests weren’t as frequent, but they were a bit harder. There were online classes, more deadlines, and yet, despite it all, nicer, calmer teachers. You, being an excellent student, earned your funding through the school. Of course you broke away from living at your parent’s house, and had to support yourself further by working, but it was worth it.

The dorm rooms were roomy, and your roommate, who was blessed with common courtesy, was kind and distant. He, attached to you at the hip, followed the same pattern, almost, except he’d chosen a different career. Oddly, he wanted to become a teacher, but the more you thought about it, the more you could see it. Always friendly, warm, and generous, an inner part of you knew that he was good around children, and it’d be a perfect career choice.

You yourself, only nineteen, had liked the idea of biology, studying animals and their habits. It also put the two of you in a lot of the same classes for the next four years. Despite studying, working, and worrying, the two of you had seemed to find extra time for each other. Granted it was more to study, but a lot of places were in the cafeteria, at the local coffee shops, and sometimes in your dorm room if your roommate was out. Within the four years before graduating, you’ve discovered more about your own feelings for the blond, and had secretly accepted them. You didn’t know of his own feelings towards you other than a very close friend, but you were surprised that he turned down popular, pretty people.

To say that you were relieved, was an understatement, but you couldn’t fathom why he’d turn down so many nice admirers. You’d accepted the fact that he might be asexual, or aromantic, and cherished him as your close friend no matter what the outcome might have been.

……………….

Graduation was celebrated with lots of laughter and cheer from both of you and your families. Not really having a place, the two of you, being really close, decided to rent together on a lease. Age twenty-three, the two of you had to struggle a bit to find jobs, but luckily, with his charm and endearing personality, it didn’t take him too long to land as a kindergarten teacher, and you, with your experiences and tenaciousness, landed in the science lab some miles over.

The two of you worked perfectly together, splitting bills and chores, making meals, it was almost as if the two of you were a couple, due to your wishful thinking. Which, to be fair, you thought and wondered a lot. What was the two of your relationship, what were you waiting for, and so on. It was growing on you, and you were feeling as if you had enough. Although not blaming him, you wanted to spend as much time at work as possible, staying away from the very being who made your heart soar and yet hurt from the questioning and pining.

He, being very keen, noticed immediately of your sudden absence. Going early and coming home later, eating briefly with that odd, distant look in your eyes as you joined in on his conversations, but it was as if you were replaced by something else. It was driving him mad, because in all of his years of knowing you, it didn’t add up.

One night, you came home to an odd sight. The table, although already set neatly, had your favorite dish set out on a platter. He sat there, pouring two glasses of wine as he stared at you.

“This ain’t like ya, Chickadee.” He stated bluntly, setting your glass near the platter, and you sighed, sitting down. Of course he’d notice, and although you felt guilty, you needed to give yourself space from the accepted, yet buzzing emotions welling within you.

“Ya wanna talk about it?” Was the silent plea, and you, caught off guard by the sheer hurt in his voice, found yourself nodding.

…………..

Present. The two of you, adults, sat at the table as he stared at you intently with a look of worry and hurt. He was your friend, and you guessed that it wouldn’t hurt to let loose your feelings, so he could know, and let you down, gently. Taking a breath, you started.

His eyes were widened, but he didn’t speak as you spoke. Letting the weight of your concerns and feelings be lifted off of your shoulders as you could only briefly make eye-contact. He was stunned, to say at least, but it’s what you’ve been feeling for years. As soon as you finished, you bravely stared at him, to drink in his reactions to your inner conflict. Swallowing thickly, he set his utensil down as he gave you a warm, heated stare.

“We’re both a lil’ dense, ain’t we, Sugar?”

You couldn’t help but nod a little as he stood up, walking over towards you to stare at you. It was your turn to look surprised, letting him cup your face, and lean in. Soft and warm, just like him, you couldn’t help but think as finally, finally, the two of you shared a kiss. The soft fluttering of butterflies within your stomach melted with a warm heat within your gut, surprising you in an instant as the two of you had broken away, him staring at you with a soft smile and a hot blush to his cheeks.

“Ya know how long I’ve been wantin’ to do that?” He asked rather shyly.

“Since we were eight?”

“Right on the nose. Ya as well?” He grinned, kissing your forehead gently at your nod.

“We gotta lotta talkin’ to do, but how ‘bout we start things proper with a date?”

You gently took his hand within yours, rubbing your thumb over the back in soft circles.

“Sounds perfect.”

………………

Short bc I had a 12k fic already done not too long ago, and this is for the crowd who just wanted fluff and cuteness.

#Taishiro Toyomitsu #Fatgum #Fatgum x reader #Like I had permission from a sweet artist to let me write the visuals in my other fic #And they gave me permission to post it on A03 #I was unsure about Tumblr so I left a link to my fanfic account

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ti-bae-rius · 4 years

Text

Malec couple’s yoga one shot

“I can’t believe you agreed to this.”

“What? Yoga is a really great training activity. It keeps your muscles strong and toned and is great for flexibility and stamina.”

“Flexibility and stamina? I do like the sound of that.”

“Magnus!”

The two of them walked along the streets of New York, both in workout gear – though that phrase meant two wildly different things for each. Alec’s runes were glamoured and he wore his training gear – sans the heavy leather fabric shadowhunters donned for battle – which mainly consisted of a pair of loose jogging pants and a t-shirt that (like all Alec’s t-shirts) had seen better days. Magnus, however, had taken this as an opportunity to acquire some truly magnificent new clothes. A tank top reading ‘I’m heavily meditated’ and a pair of tight-fitting joggers, cuffed at the ankle and tailored to hang just right, completed Magnus’s outfit. Alec had to smile. No one else, in the history of workouts, had tailored yoga pants. But then no one else was quite like Magnus.

“We don’t need mats or anything, do we?” Alec asked, as they passed under the archway into Central Park. “The information seemed really vague. Do you think it’ll run over – my mom can only handle Max and Rafe for so long.”

“All this worrying doesn’t seem very zen of you,” Magnus chastised, taking Alec’s hand and swinging it like they did when they were making Max and Rafe ‘fly’ as they walked along the paths. Alec always thought this was somewhat of a big ask from Max, who actually could fly without the aid of Alec’s arms that were usually already somewhat tired from demon-hunting all day. Nevertheless, their squeals of joy made it all worthwhile.

A small throng of people were gathered, couples stretching together and chatting, in Central Park’s Sheep Meadow. Though still busy, it was somewhat less crowded and tourist-populated than the majority of the Park. Alec squinted to look who was there as the two of them walked closer and leaned up to whisper to Magnus, “There’s more gays than I thought there’d be.”

“Oh please, couples yoga is for three sets of people: bohemian lesbians who have squeezed this in between sensual pottery and live drawing where they only draw Cate Blanchett, straights whose marriages are on the rocks and are in desperate need of closeness not derived from brushing past one another on the way to write something on their family planner by the fridge, or gay couples – that’s us – whose marriage is just where it’s supposed to be.”

“And who want a brief moment of respite from their children – one of whom transforms into a bat when annoyed and one who loves annoying his brother?”

“I don’t think that’s quite as universal as you might expect,” Magnus pointed out and Alec laughed.

Thankfully, no one else seemed to have yoga mats. Despite Magnus’s assertions, most of the couples here looked calm and happy to be there. Alec relaxed a little and when a man and woman came over to introduce themselves as the instructors, he leaned casually against Magnus’s side, content to let his husband do the talking. He glanced round, watching the sunlight filter through the leaves of a nearby tree, mottling the grass below it with little pools of soft illumination. This was pretty nice, he thought, a feeling of serenity washing over him. Maybe Magnus was right, maybe Alec did just need to loosen up and relax, try and enjoy these new experiences. Maybe they’d become that couple, the couple that did yoga in the park and had brunch with their kids where they didn’t even drink mimosas or bloody marys because they didn’t need the pick-me-up of socially acceptable mid-morning alcohol. He’d always thought Izzy would be that person.

“Right,” the female instructor said in a voice that commanded the group. Though she’d raised her voice to gather them, she still sounded soft-spoken. “Let’s all find a space and let that space be our own bubble. Today, you and your partner are one being, two halves of one yogi. Together, let your hearts find a space. Be led by your shared heartbeat.”

Magnus and Alec exchanged a look and Magnus raised an eyebrow. Perhaps this was a little…much. Alec gave Magnus a miniscule frown and mouthed “that’s not very zen”. Magnus rolled his eyes but put a hand out and rested it on Alec’s chest, then put the other hand to his own.

“Our collective heartbeat is telling me that we should get out of here,” he said, with the same whimsical timbre to his voice that the instructor had. “It also says that the guac in the refrigerator needs eating tonight.”

Alec gave an inelegant snort and the instructors looked over at them. They didn’t look annoyed – Alec wasn’t sure people who were that at peace could be annoyed – but Alec schooled his expression into neutrality.

“I think just here is fine for our bubble,” he said and Magnus nodded, eyes glittering with amusement.

“I see we have some new energies in our space today,” the male instructor said, his speech with the same gentle lilt as his wife’s. “We welcome you into our family.” Magnus tried very hard not to think of how much this sounded like late-stage Crimson Hand rhetoric. “For our new friends, let me introduce us. This is my wife, Kelly, and I’m Gareth. Family, let’s emit some extra good vibes today to make our new souls feel welcomed and cherished.”

Alec firmly kept his eyes on the instructors instead of giving Magnus the weighted look he wanted to. Okay, this seemed a little full-on, but they’d just got here. They couldn’t judge it yet.

“What we’re going to do is start with a really easy pose that will help to solidify your connection to your partner and maintain your unity throughout our time together today,” breathed Kelly. “Let’s start with a stacked child’s pose. One half of your team transition now from mountain pose down to child’s pose, copying Gareth.”

Alec and Magnus exchanged looks and Alec shrugged, watching Gareth fold himself down onto the floor, facedown, as if having an existential crisis. Alec copied, and immediately felt the grass tickle his nose. From somewhere above him, Kelly continued talking.

“Now for our other halves, gently climb on your partner’s back and settle into the same pose. This is a really easy starting position and will keep us grounded and unified ready for our next step.”

Alec was about to say something when he felt Magnus’s weight settle atop him, pushing him further into the tickly grass. He breathed around the extra weight on his spine and Magnus bent to whisper in Alec’s ear.

“Wanna admit I was right to say we should’ve left?”

“No, this is very soothing,” Alec mumbled, and coughed on the grass that got in his mouth.

“Also, why is this child’s pose? Have Gareth and Kelly ever seen a child? If Max and Rafe were laid on the floor on their faces like this, I’d call an exorcist.”

“Shhh, I’m getting in touch with my inner peace,” Alec mumbled, and spluttered again on the grass in his mouth. “And also with this dirt.”

After a few minutes of relative calm, Gareth’s voice rung out, soft but commanding.

“Let’s all return to mountain pose now, stretching our arms up over our heads to transition to extended mountain.”

When Alec straightened up again, he glanced around, just to make sure he wasn’t being pranked. But no, a dozen other couples were all doing the same as them, lightly holding their hands above their heads, arms outstretched toward the sunny sky of New York. He settled back into it a little and tried to relax, wondering if relaxing was meant to take this much effort.

“Now we’re going to move into couple’s tree pose,” Gareth instructed. “Stand beside your partner and raise the arm closest to them into the air, touching their palm with yours. You can interlock your fingers here for extra emotional support, if you so desire. With your outside leg, rest the flat of your foot against your upper thigh, and bring your outside hands together to press flat against one another in the space between you.”

“Are you interlocking our fingers for emotional support?” Magnus whispered and Alec huffed a laugh.

“I’m doing it for structural support. I’m on some uneven grass and I feel like I’m about to fall over.”

“Consul Lightwood?”

Alec spun so fast that Magnus stumbled sideways, righting himself just in time and shooting Alec a furious look. In fact, the whole group were staring at them, looking as displeased as a group of people who had dedicated themselves to inner peace could look. Which, to be fair, wasn’t that displeased.

“Is there something disrupting your practise today?” Kelly asked, and Alec gave a nervous laugh.

“Just give me one second,” he said, staring off into the treeline where the call had come from.

“The forces outside your bubble are of no consequence during your practise,” Gareth told him, but Alec was already starting to walk over to the trees. Magnus gave a shrug to the instructors and an apologetic glance to the others in the group.

“He’s got a bad knee,” Magnus explained lamely and set off after Alec, jogging to catch up with him as he spoke to two younger shadowhunters. They couldn’t have been more than sixteen and were gaping up at Alec – and now Magnus too – with wide eyes.

“So how about I report back that you guys have been doing some great work on patrol, and you don’t tell anyone about…that,” Alec bartered. The two shadowhunters nodded and hurried off, casting looks over their shoulders as they went, heads bent together as they whispered. Alec looked at Magnus and burst out laughing. “Okay, you were right. We should’ve left before it started.”

“You mean you don’t want to get in touch with our shared heartbeat and become one soul in two bodies?” Magnus asked in mock-offence.

Alec gave him a sly side-eye and took his hand. “I didn’t say that. I’m sure we can work something out. We still have the apartment to ourselves for an hour or two before we have to get the kids.”

“What happened to ‘my mom can’t cope with them for too long’?” Magnus challenged, a devilish glint in his eye.

“She’ll be fine,” Alec assured him.

“Why are we going to yoga night school?” Magnus asked as they reached the building indicated on Alec’s phone.

“Because it’s the only class I could find in the area when we had someone to watch the kids,” Alec explained. “Don’t worry, I made Simon promise to make them dinner.”

“Well hopefully this one is less traumatic.”

Alec groaned. “Don’t remind me. At least in a building we don’t risk random shadowhunters walking past.”

“Unless they’re in the class too!” Magnus pointed out chirpily and Alec shot him a glare as they went inside.

Much like the last class, people were milling about in couples. Alec gave the crowded hallway a quick scan but couldn’t see anyone they knew – thankfully. Alec relaxed a little. There were about the same number of couples here too, around twelve, and Alec couldn’t tell who the instructors were. Mostly people were talking in soft voices, sipping bottles of water, and leaning affectionately into conversations with their partner. Magnus glanced around.

“What kind of yoga is this?”

“I don’t know, tandem or something,” Alec said. “It was the only one available, but it looks good. The website said something about building trust and closeness or whatever.”

“Clearly imperative for us,” Magnus said dryly. “What with us being so distant and untrusting and all.”

Alec rolled his eyes but smiled.

Before he could respond, a door opened at the end of the hall and a woman emerged in a pair of leggings and a sports bra. She smiled at them and beckoned them all in. As Magnus and Alec passed her in the door, she turned and beamed at them.

“You must be our new sign-ups. I hope you enjoy the class and feel more in touch with yourselves and your bodies when you leave.”

No cult-like mentions of joining a family, or bubbles, or shared heartbeats. Alec heaved a sigh of relief and gave a glance toward Magnus, who was looking around the room. Everyone did seem quite touchy-feely, Magnus thought, but brushed it off. What else should he have expected from couple’s yoga – particularly couple’s yoga with a majority hetero clientele? He and Alec took a seat at the back of the studio, removing their shoes like the others had done and putting them behind their mat, and chatted between themselves until the woman who’d greeted them stepped to the front of the room with her own partner, a tall and well-built surfer-dude type.

“So as most of you know, I’m Carly and this is Dale, and we’ll be your guides tonight. As always, please feel free to take breaks as you need them, communication with your partner is encouraged, and remember to open a conversation after tonight’s class about what you learned about each other and yourself. These classes can really prompt strong feelings, and those should be embraced and discussed in a non-judgemental and loving way.”

“How intense is this class meant to be?” Magnus whispered to Alec, who shrugged, looking a little nervous. Was this for expert yoga-people? Yogists? Yogurts? What kind of relaxation came with a warning?

“While Carly lights the candles and I bring the lights down and close the blinds, feel free to come to rest in any pose that feels comfortable for you. Perhaps that’s child’s pose, a seated position, or maybe even corpse pose,” Dale said, and began readying the room.

“I’m starting to think we might all end up in corpse pose by the end of the night,” Alec hissed quietly, glancing round. “This looks like how most demonic rituals begin.”

“Maybe this is all a trap and Elyaas is just trying to get us to let him see Max again,” Magnus suggested and Alec laughed, looking round at the other couples to see how they were sat. Many were laid side by side, like bodies in mortuary shelves, but a handful of them were laid on their sides, pressed close together as if they were cuddled in bed. Alec raised his eyebrow sceptically and settled for sitting with his legs crossed before him, his back against Magnus who was in the same position.

“I’m getting in first to say we should leave now,” Alec whispered, eyes closed. “Just so if this is as bad as last time, I’ll get to be right.”

Alec felt Magnus’s shoulders move against his as he chuckled, then start a little as Dale spoke again.

“Okay, excellent. Let’s all slowly move to sit opposite our partner, ready to start the session with some synchronized breathing. You can do this in whatever way works for you. You could put a hand on your partner’s chest to feel their inhales and exhales. You could close your eyes and focus on the sound of their breath or maintain eye contact and build a direct channel of communication. You could hold hands. Or you can just meditate, keeping your inhalations and exhalations as one with your partner.”

Alec shuffled round to face Magnus and immediately had to close his eyes. Something about staring into the face of your significant other in a quiet and meditative room made you immediately want to burst out into loud and obnoxious laughter. Instead, he let Magnus’s hand find his in the dark of their closed eyes and tried to match their breaths. Despite himself, Alec relaxed, his shoulders drooping, jaw unclenching. Being a shadowhunter wasn’t a relaxing job, and it was sometimes hard to find time to de-stress. Maybe he’d judged this whole thing too quickly, put off by the last time. Actually, this was pretty nice.

After a while, Carly’s voice came softly through the haze of meditation, instructing them to gently come back to the present. Alec blinked open his eyes and met Magnus’s soft gaze, smiling. Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.

“Okay, now we’re going to move to our first real position, yab-yum,” Carly said. “You can stay crossed-legged for this, though one of you will have to move a little. One partner will stay seated and the other will climb into their lap, hooking their legs around the other’s back, coming to rest in a lotus position. Dale and I will be transitioning into yab-yum so you can observe us if you get lost.”

Magnus beckoned Alec forward and put his arms around Alec’s waist as the shadowhunter settled onto his husband’s lap, feeling a little uncomfortable doing so in a crowded room. He glanced around to confirm this was right and found everyone else doing the same.

“Relax, we’re married,” Magnus grinned and Alec nodded, laughing to himself. Magnus was right. This was totally innocent; he was just being coy.

“Gently, you can start to rock forwards and backwards,” Dale instructed, resting his hands on Carly’s hips. “Just a slight movement is fine to start. You can time this to your breathing. Breathe in, rock forward. Breathe out, rock back.”

Magnus raised an eyebrow but shrugged, following as instructed. Alec wrinkled his nose. Was it just him or did this feel weirdly…intense? Even personal?

“Are you starting to get seasick?” Magnus teased and Alec shook his head.

“I’m just really confused. What is this meant to do?”

“Help us breathe together I guess. Though, I don’t want to brag, but I’ve been breathing for centuries and I’m pretty excellent at it. I’m currently on my high score of most breaths breathed. I bet I’ve been breathing way longer than all these assholes.”

Alec laughed and tried to relax into the exercise, but he couldn’t help feeling strangely fidgety, like something wasn’t right.

“For a more connective experience,” Dale said. “You can add extra elements, especially if you’re the partner sat on the floor. Try rocking your lower back as well and raising your hips towards your partner’s.”

Alec and Magnus exchanged confused looks, and Alec felt his eyes widen when a few nearby couples began breathing more shallowly, less controlled. Magnus covered his mouth to stifle a laugh at Alec’s scandalised expression.

“Did you know—” Magnus began and Alec shook his head vehemently.

“Is this…” He dropped his voice and mouthed, “sex yoga?”

Magnus gave a loud snort of laughter and Alec shushed him, but the laugh was contagious and the sound came out disjointed and breathless. Instead, Alec put a finger to his lips, and looked up at the ceiling, trying not to meet Magnus’s eyes and start their laughs again. It was going well until Carly gave a breathy sigh and continued.

“This pose represents the mother and father in the act of sexual union, and really appeals to both genders’ need for interpenetration.”

“Well this isn’t going to help us at all then,” Magnus muttered, rolling his eyes.

Alec lost his composure completely and gave a cry of amusement that was smothered too late by Magnus’s hand. Both of them were laughing now, bent forward towards one another with tears in their eyes. Alec could feel the disapproving stares of the other people in the class and tried hard to compose himself, but it was no use. From somewhere above them, someone cleared their throat and the two of them looked up to see Carly stood there, with a face like thunder. And who could blame her, Alec thought. Two total newbies had signed up for her class, been totally blind-sided by what it actually was, and had some kind of hysteric moment in the middle of their session. Before she could say anything, Alec climbed to his feet and pulled Magnus up after him by the hands, still grinning uncontrollably.

“I, ah, don’t think this is our class,” Alec muttered apologetically.

“Yeah, I’m sure it said Bridge club was next door,” Magnus added and Alec had to press his lips together so he didn’t laugh in the poor woman’s face. Alec swept down, grabbed his shoes in one hand and Magnus’s in the other, shoved a pair at his husband, and stumbled gracelessly from the room, weaving between yab-yumming couples, and shutting the door quickly behind them.

As soon as they were out of the building, the two of them exploded into laughter, the sound ringing out on the quiet New York streets. It was already dark, though not even gone seven, and Alec sank down onto a bench to lace up his sneakers, still shaking with amusement. Magnus was bent double, wiping a tear from his eye.

“Tantric, you idiot,” Magnus wheezed. “Tantric yoga, not tandem.”

“I don’t know what that means!” Alec protested, gesturing to the building. “Who does sex yoga at seven on a Thursday evening? It’s a school day tomorrow!”

Magnus cackled and threw his head back, reminding Alec of their very first date, the two of them howling with joy at the awful subway rappers. It was the first time Alec had remembered really letting go, really surrendering to the idea of being happy. There, walking the streets with Magnus back to the apartment that wasn’t yet his home too, Alec hadn’t thought about what anyone else would think, or if someone he knew would see him. All he could think about was those terrible performers, and the way Magnus’s laugh sounded like someone opening the door to the rest of his life, and the whisper of evening air like a great spirit whispering at him that he could finally relax.

Walking home, hand in hand, Magnus nudged a hip against Alec’s playfully.

“So, it’s super important to start a conversation after tonight’s class about what you learned about each other and yourself,” Magnus said, imitating Dale’s rolling Californian drawl.

“I learned that I should read the description of things properly before I book them for $60 a person,” Alec said.

“$60?” Magnus demanded incredulously. “You paid $120 for us to sit in a dark room with a bunch of horny couples and sit on each other’s laps?”

Alec rested his head on Magnus’s shoulder and laughed into the fabric of his jacket. “I just wanted us to have a good night out away from the kids and spend some time together.”

“I like movies, you know? And dinner, and the theatre, and literally anything where a woman doesn’t say interpenetration to me in a room full of other people.”

“Come on,” Alec urged, grinning. “Let’s at least take something from it. What did you learn?”

“I learned…that you are very, very attractive when you laugh,” Magnus said, leaning down to kiss the top of Alec’s head, feeling his husband nestle further into his shoulder. “How about you?”

“I learned…” Alec laughed shyly and straightened up, squeezing Magnus’s hand. “I learned that sitting on someone’s lap while they laugh is a unique experience that is not entirely without it’s…appeal.”

Magnus glanced at him and quirked an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

Alec shrugged and Magnus spun Alec round by the hand.

“I’m sure that could be arranged,” Magnus said softly and watched devilishly as Alec went fantastically red. “Come on, let’s go. Luckily for you we have a ridiculous life so there’s plenty of things to laugh at to get you all hot and bothered.”

Alec swatted at him and shushed him, looking around the near-empty street.

“We can start with the fact that your husband still turns you into a fumbling mess.”

“You’ll always do that,” Alec reminded him, and shot Magnus a winning smile that sent Magnus into his own state of unravelling. “We could swing by Simon and Izzy’s and get the kids early.”

“Or…” Magnus said, with a familiar look in his eyes and Alec’s mouth quirked in a smile. “I don’t know why you look so smug; I was going to suggest we sat in silence and timed our breaths to each other,” Magnus said and ducked away, chuckling, as Alec went to grab for him.

When Alec inevitably caught him, he wrapped his arms around Magnus, pressing a kiss to his neck. “What is our life?” he sighed, and Magnus tilted his chin down so his lips met Alec’s.

“Perfect,” Magnus answered fondly. “That’s what.”

DISCLAIMER

This is a fun fic - don’t take it too seriously. No not all yoga is like this, not all tantric yoga is about sensuality or sexuality, but some of it is and that’s great too. Just...take it in the spirit it’s meant.

#malec #malec fic #Magnus Bane #Magnus and Alec #Alec and Magnus #Magnus x Alec #Alec Lightwood #alec lightwood bane #magnus lightwood bane

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undeadsnorlax · 3 years

Text

Alone at Midnight, Inside My Mind

@badthingshappenbingo

Ao3 Link

Bingo Card

using the prompt in a metaphorical sense, as opposed to the medical aid sense

Prompt: Crutches

Fandom: Yakuza/Ryu Ga Gotoku

Warnings: a lot of alcohol related issues, including addiction and withdrawal, some suicidal thoughts and body image issues, hurt/no comfort. set pre-Yakuza 2.

Wordcount: 5511

2pm. He could tell it was because his downstairs neighbour was home, attending to the array of plant pots she kept littered outside her door, and playing music on the radio that bled through the crack of the open window.

Daigo squinted in the afternoon light that managed to make its way through the blinds, groaning loudly.

“Fucking hell…”

Suppose now was as good a time as any to start the day. Especially when he felt his stomach rumble.

It took some effort to get to his feet, but soon he was dragging himself into the kitchen, yawning loudly. He needed something quick and tasty, now.

The fridge had nothing but convenience store sushi and days old leftover curry. The cupboards were also pretty bare, half a bag of rice and a ramen cup.

Daigo sighed heavily, setting his kettle to boil before grabbing the sushi. He stuffed a piece into his mouth, wrinkling his nose at the taste of stale rice but ate another without any complaint.

Head to the store. Get some more food, he thought, holding the ramen cup in place as he lifted up the kettle.

The water splashed on the counter a little, narrowly missing burning his fingers, making him forcefully slam the kettle back down once the cup was filled.

Daigo gripped the sides of the counter, closing his eyes as he felt a pulse of nausea rush through his body. If he forced the tension against the surface hard enough, he could stop his hands shaking for just a moment.

Eat noodles. Have a shower. Go to the store.

Opening his eyes again, he ate another piece of sushi, absolutely no taste on his tongue as he chewed it into mush, before taking his ramen into the living room.

He slumped down on the couch, turning the TV on and forced the food down him. He still felt nauseous, but he knew he wouldn’t actually vomit. He already had last night. Doubled over in a bush outside the train station and puked his guts out, despite not having much solids in him. Even now his throat felt sore from it. Classy.

He wasn’t even hungry, really. He was eating out of obligation, feeling his stomach gurgle happily at finally being filled with some kind of food.

As he ate, he noticed his cell phone on the table in front of him, discarded amongst the empty bottles and candy wrappers. It was flashing.

Daigo frowned, reaching over and flipping it open.

Three new answer machine messages.

Who the hell had tried calling him?

Message one - 9:25am

“Daigo, it’s your mother. Pick up.”

Message two - 9:43am

“Me again. Please answer your phone.”

Message three - 10:08am

“Daigo...it’s Mom-“

Daigo groaned, snapping his phone shut to end the messages. Nope! He was not dealing with this today.

He discarded the empty ramen cup and chopsticks with the rest of the trash on the table, storming towards the bathroom.

Shower on, clothes off. He used the toilet as the water heated up, catching the reflection of his upper half in the mirror as he finished.

“Hrmph.”

He ran a hand down his front, resting it on the middle of his stomach and huffed again.

His weight had been up and down the last ten years, though it had obviously settled during his stint in prison, with its shit food and no alcohol. Now that he was out, with all the freedom to indulge in every last inch of hedonism he could find though, he had developed a bit of a gut. Just a bump, but it was…noticeable, it was there. It stuck out.

No surprise really. How much did he drink last night again?

Enough I puked in a bush.

Daigo shifted on his feet, standing up a bit straighter and sucking his stomach in. It didn’t make much difference. He suddenly wondered how visible it was under his t-shirt, glad he usually wore a thick coat to hide himself in.

“Great,” he growled, stepping into the shower. Another thing to feel insecure about.

He stood there, forehead pressed against the wall as he let the water run down the Fudo Myoo on his back.

His hand started shaking again.

“Give me a break,” he said, clasping it to his chest, “A few hours, a day.”

He dried himself off, going back to his bedroom for a clean shirt and pair of jeans – both black, of course.

He also grabbed a heavy hoodie to wear to the store, a way to feel a little more comfortable in himself in a public place.

Wallet, keys, phone. Go to store. Buy supplies.

Daigo pulled his hood up as he jogged down the stairs, immediately blocked from leaving by the downstairs neighbour still gardening.

“Lovely afternoon, isn’t it Dojima-san?” Ito cried, beaming at him. She was older, always so chipper. How did she manage?

As much as he wanted to ignore her, Daigo had been raised with far too proper manners. He still remained casual, grunting a little and rubbing the back of his head.

“Yeah, suppose.”

“You came back late again last night,” she added, hands lifting a plant to move to another pot, “Ouma-san went off about it before going to work this morning.”

“Oh, did he now?”

Ouma was the guy around his age in the apartment next door. Always miserable, always bringing a new girl home every weekend that Daigo had to endure hearing fake horribly through his thin bedroom walls.

“I’ll try to be a bit quieter next time, Ito-san,” he mumbled. For her sake, not for that asshole Ouma.

“Or maybe you should stay in once in a while, hm?”

Daigo scowled, jerking his head and storming off toward the store. With any luck the old bag would have gone inside by the time he was back.

As he made his way down the street, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He went to answer but paused, clenching his fingers tight into his palm. Nope. He knew who it was, and what she wanted, and he didn’t care.

His supply run was basic. More noodles, packs of chips and cookies, some onigiri and bentos that could last a few days.

Whilst picking up a few bottles of Staminan and Tauriner, he stared blankly at the alcohol.

His hands still shook. There was such a quick fix to settle that.

He grabbed a six pack of beer and a bottle of scotch and vodka, unable to help a crooked little grin.

The cashier looked at him a little oddly as he set his basket down on the counter. And yeah, he’d admit he looked strange. Sweating and shaky from withdrawal, under his eyes dark and his brow pulled into a near permanent scowl, face otherwise obscured by the shadow of the hood.

“Get me some cigarettes too, huh?” he mumbled, taking out his wallet and avoiding eye contact.

He was a mess.

He stared at the glass case of baked goods, unable to resist the pull from his sweet tooth, and asked for two donuts as well.

He arrived back home rather pleased with his haul. He had enough in him to pack away most of it, before he stared down the booze he bought.

He could...not do this, actually. He could not drink. It was easy, in theory.

He wiped his damp brow, licked his dry lips. His head hurt, despite the slight gloom of the kitchen.

They could sit there as an ultimate temptation. He could ignore them. He could do all manner of things.

But he wanted to drink, that was the issue. That was the whole point. Drinking was the only thing he had that stayed consistent.

He grabbed the scotch and slugged back a long mouthful, feeling everything just melt away. He let out a relieved gasp, the taste strong on his tongue and warming his throat. Felt like a part of him was back. His mind became a little clearer, his mood a little more elevated. He took a shorter swig for luck, rubbing his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Much better…”

He spent the rest of the afternoon lounging on the sofa, playing video games. There wasn’t much else for him to do during the day.

Evening was his time.

When seven rolled around, Daigo got ready. His jeans and t-shirt were fine already, so all he had to do was put on his usual cross necklace to complete the outfit. He spent a while staring down himself in the mirror as he applied a shaky dash of eyeliner around his lid.

Once upon a time he shied away from doing this publicly, but since leaving jail he stopped caring. Wore eyeliner and straightened his hair. Painted his nails black and picked at the polish when he was anxious. Who gave a shit? Anyone dumb enough to say anything soon regretted it.

Keys, wallet, phone. Same routine. He chose his white puffer jacket to wear instead of his hoodie, enjoying the barrier it gave him from the rest of the world.

One quick metro ride later, he was in Kamurocho, just as the town was coming alive in a burst of neon. Daigo lost himself in the crowds, thinking of which bar to hit up first.

He paused for a moment down Tenkaichi Street, staring at the sign for Serena. Place was closed, and had been for a little under a year now.

He knew what happened last year, of course. Heard about Rina through another barkeep. Not that he’d known her well, or spent much time at Serena, but something in his chest ached hearing she was gone in such circumstances.

He soon forgot about it with another glass.

With a weary huff, he decided the Champion District on the other side of town was the best place to start. The bar he chose was quiet, no other customers, and a barman who knew when to keep his mouth shut.

Perfect.

Instead of conversation, Daigo focused on the soft jazz music playing as he nursed his whiskey. He was into heavier tunes, but he needed a bit more of a buzz before going to his favourite rock bar.

He tapped his nails against the glass, tilting his head. Good idea, actually. They did cheap shots and a big array of imports.

He slammed some cash down on the counter before stumbling into the street, glad to feel the slight evening chill on his cheeks.

Down to Pink Street, and into the rock bar he enjoyed. Already feeling at home with the heavy guitar music blasting over the speakers, most of the other patrons dressed in a similar style to him. He’d missed out on a lot of stuff whilst locked away, the slight sways in fashion that happened in such a short amount of time, but he liked knowing he was still on trend within his scene, mostly.

He sat at the counter, giving a half-grin to the girl working there, and ordered himself five shots of vodka.

His earlier drinks had been a warmup, these were the first leg of the race. The second came in the form of a large scotch, some new brand they’d started selling.

Honestly, the start to a perfect night for him, until he heard a small gasp from behind him.

“Hey! Aniki!”

Daigo’s heart sank at the voice, glancing over his shoulder. Five of the guys he usually hung around with were there – or more accurately, they hung around him.

He rolled his eyes and groaned, turning in his seat and glaring them down. He should never had shown them this place.

“What do you want?” he muttered, already knowing the answer.

“We didn’t know you were out today!” Arita cried, leaning up next to him, with that sycophantic look he always had in his eyes. As if Daigo wasn’t out every night.

“Why don’t you join us aniki?” Kubo asked, which actually translated to wanna pay for all our drinks because we’re cheap scrounging bastards?

Daigo groaned again, knocking back his glass and waving the bartender over again.

“If you quit calling me aniki.”

They didn’t, of course. They gleefully accepted the drinks he bought them with more coos of thank you Dojima-aniki. Daigo rubbed the bridge of his nose and ordered himself two double scotches, slugging them back like they were water.

“I was thinkin’ we could go to Dazzle after this,” Arita said, having not left Daigo’s side. He always babbled and talked too much, like he felt he had to fill every silence with his own voice save people be left alone with their own thoughts.

“Why there?” Daigo asked, thinking of all the things he’d rather do more than go to a hostess club, including and not limited to slamming his face into a lit stovetop and drowning in a hot tub.

“I just think the girls there are really underrated, y’know? I like that they have some slightly older gals, I love a mature lady. How about you?”

Daigo shoved a shard of ice from his glass into his mouth and let it melt on his tongue. “Come on then.”

He was paying for two hours and that was that. At least he could get a bottle for himself and work through that, sitting at the edge whilst the others enjoyed the girls’ company.

Dazzle might have specialised in more mature women, but the decor was a nightmare like every other hostess club. Why’d they always insist on so many sparkles, it gave him a headache.

“Um...are you enjoying yourself?”

Daigo lowered his gaze to look at the girl. ‘Mature’ really meant ‘late twenties’, and she was running on the younger side of that.

“What do you think?” he said coldly, swirling his drink in its glass.

She seemed a little dazed at this, glancing back at her fellow hostesses, but kept going.

“M-my name is Nashi. Yours?”

“Daigo Dojima.”

He clicked his tongue, emptied his glass and went to refill it, his shoulders slouching slightly. “Sorry. I don’t mean to be so short, you’re only doing your job.”

“Oh, it’s fine, I’ve had far worse responses.”

Daigo just gritted his teeth. Another reason he hated hostess clubs was he knew how other men treated these girls, saw it himself the times his father brought him along as a teen.

The least he could do was give this lady a nice conversation.

“Well, I’ll try to be a bit better than them,” he said, gesturing with his head towards the others, so loud and obnoxious.

Nashi smiled a little. “They’re not so bad. Your friends are just a bit...out there.”

He scoffed. “They’re not my friends. I don’t really...do friendship anymore.”

“Oh? How come?”

Shit. Of course, when you say something like that, people have questions. Daigo licked his lips in thought, considering how he should phrase this.

“You...don’t recognise my name, do you?”

Nashi blushed a little, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Um, well, you do have a bit of notoriety around town, Dojima-san. I know girls in other clubs, and they always talk about you.”

Daigo did a slight double take at this. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah. You’re a rather…” She gestured at his coat and skinny jeans. “A striking figure, you know. A lot of girls like the edgy emo bad boy look. It’s popular right now.”

“Hm, figures.” A lot of men are also fans…

Daigo sat up a little straighter, gazing Nashi down. “Do you?”

“H-huh?”

“Find me attractive?”

It was a joke, said with a dry smirk, but she flustered, clearly uneasy. Daigo grimaced, sliding up a little closer and putting a hand to her knee.

“Hey, hey. I’m kidding.” He made his smirk a soft smile, broke down the facade for just a moment to put her at ease. “Don’t worry about it.”

Nashi’s eyes went wide, but nodded, brushing down the edges of her dress.

“A-anyway, I...I’ve heard you...were involved with the Tojo Clan. Is that why you don’t ‘do’ friends?”

“Mm. Essentially.”

Daigo gave up on the glass, swigging back from the bottle which got him a funny look from one of the other patrons across the way.

“My only friend murdered my father,” he said, so matter of fact. He hesitated a moment, letting out a short huff. “Well. He went to jail for the crime, at least. He was actually covering for someone else. Either way, I was left without his guidance for ten years, thinking he had betrayed me like that.”

He paused a second, swilling whiskey around his mouth, before continuing.

“I came back to town a few months ago and...he hasn’t bothered trying to find me. Which shows how little he cares.”

“Oh. That sounds...awful, Dojima-san.”

“It sure does, doesn’t it?”

Daigo shrugged, tilting the empty bottle back so he could savour just a few more drops as best he could. “That’s just how my life is now.”

He grumbled a little as he set the bottle down, belching into his cupped hand before draping himself back against the seat.

“Sometimes you gotta deal with the hand you're given,” he added, scratching lazily at his middle, “And unfortunately, I’ve had a poor deck from the start.”

He shut his eyes before letting out a laugh, forced and hollow. “Sorry. I’m not the best at keeping things light.”

How many hostesses had he paid to listen to him whine? Then he thought how they were probably all used to it, which made it even worse.

“Well, given your circumstances…”

Nashi glanced back at her co-workers, the barely hidden looks of disdain towards the rest of the crew and their boorish behaviour.

“I’d much rather talk to you though,” she said, reaching over to grab another one of the bottles along the table, gesturing toward his glass, “You’re nice.”

Daigo swallowed, nodding in approval as she filled it to the brim. His head pounded, but he wasn’t sure if it was from the music or the cravings.

“If you say so.”

The glass was empty in a flash, and filled just as quick.

“You’re good at this,” he purred.

The bottle was empty by the time the waiter came by. Daigo had just enough mental capacity to dig through his pockets and pay, giving Nashi a shaky smile and a pat on the knee.

“Thank you for tonight. You’re great.”

His friends, on the other hand, all started to whine as the waiter began to urge them into finishing their drinks.

“Aw, c’mon aniki, let’s hang around a bit longer!”

“If you want that, pay yourself, ya cheap fucks.”

Daigo stood up, a bit too quickly as he felt the room spin. He stumbled to the side slightly, wincing as he contained a belch that very much tasted of vomit. Nope! No puking tonight. Keep it all inside.

“I’m outta here,” he mumbled, resting a hand on any available solid surface to keep himself steady as he left.

He blanked out the cries of the others as he did. He’d wasted enough time with them tonight, and he was craving something else.

“Burger,” he mumbled, squinting as he glanced up and down the street, “Pffft...that way.”

This was always the worst part of the night. Trying to sober up enough so he could keep going, or at the very least get home in one piece. Stumbling through the streets and trying not to crack his skull open.

It wasn’t just food he craved though. He felt...itchy. That was the only way to really explain it. The desire to go wild, start a scuffle. Really earn that reputation he supposedly had.

To hell with staying in one piece.

But first, Smile Burger.

The fact that the poor worker even understood what he said through his slurred words was impressive and soon he was curled up against the window, feet pulled up on the chair beside him as he made his way through a burger that tasted like the finest wagyu steak right now.

All the while, he kept his eye out.

Yeah, it felt shitty to target people for a fight like this, but he made sure it was a fair fight. Usually a few guys, who looked like they could take a hit as well as throw one, maybe even have a chance if they weren’t facing someone running on adrenaline and too much booze.

He cocked his head as he focused on a table nearby. Four men, mid-twenties, definitely young yakuza from some family. He couldn’t see any lapel pin from where he was sat, but they were perfect.

Childishly, he picked up one of his fries and threw it in their direction. It hit the back of one guy’s head, and he looked around puzzled. Daigo just threw another, chuckling as it hit him again. A bit too obvious, as he was spotted this time.

“What the hell’s wrong with you dude?” one of the four cried.

“I dunno,” Daigo said, stuffing a bunch of fries in his mouth before flinging another their way, “Target practise.”

This one hit a guy in a striking red sports jacket right between the eyes, and Daigo could barely contain the full-on cackle he let out at the expression he pulled. It was almost too easy.

He grinned when one came over and jabbed him in the chest.

“Outside. Now.”

“My pleasure.”

He followed them into a nearby side street, hands in his pockets and head held high. He liked an audience sometimes, but a private fight was fine enough.

The biggest one of them threw the first punch. He was expecting it, crossing his arms over in front of his face to block it, before kicking out at the guy’s ankles.

The whole fight was messy. The little gang clearly had never been in a proper fight, had no form. They kept punching poorly, wincing with any that managed to hit as they stung their knuckles.

Not that Daigo was any better. He was still far too drunk, but that was half the fun. Stumbling about and getting in a rough hit that frightened these kids who’d never experienced this before. He just wanted the thrill, the rush of adrenaline pumping through his veins. Anything to feel something.

Daigo landed a punch on that guy in the sports jacket, right in the middle of his face. It sent him flat on his ass, skidding down the street slightly.

“Come on!” he groaned, “Grab him, idiots! We outnumber him!”

A moment of pause. Daigo tried to catch his breath, but ol’ sports jacket was right. He was outnumbered.

Two of them grabbed his coat and pushed him back against the wall, holding him there. The third punched at his gut, over and over. Daigo gritted his teeth, tensed his stomach for every punch.

He knew he could get out of this, easily. The guys holding him were hardly doing much, weren’t even gripping his actual arms, just the sleeves of his jacket. It wouldn’t take much to duck and slip down, then send them crying home to their mommies.

“Come on!” he hissed, baring his teeth.

But he wanted them to hit him.

“That all you got?”

He wanted them to hurt him.

Sports jacket guy had gotten back on his feet now, face already starting to bruise. His fist met the middle of Daigo’s face hard, harder than they’d been hitting before. It stung, a lot, which is exactly what he wanted.

Not that it solved anything.

It never did.

“Oi!” They all froze, turning toward the entrance of the street. Daigo, semi-dazed, managed to look too, and felt his stomach drop.

Kashiwagi's expression, initially a scowl, changed the moment he saw him, shaking his head and blinking a little. “Daigo?”

He sighed heavily, storming over and waving his hand at the little gang. “Shoo. Don’t let me catch you boys doing shit like this again, you hear?” “Y-yes Patriarch Kashiwagi.”

They scurried off further down the street, leaving Daigo to stand up straighter, rubbing his nose. He groaned a little as he saw the streaks of rusty red on the back of his hand, sniffling heavily. “Great.”

“Daigo…”

Kashiwagi sighed again, rubbing at his temple. “What are you doing?” “I’m just...I’m just out.” Daigo sniffed again, scrunching his nose. “Just finished dinner.”

“You know what I mean…”

Kashiwagi looked around, then grabbed Daigo by the shoulder. “C’mon. Let’s talk in the office.”

Daigo went to argue, but it only took one stern glare, the kind the older man had given him his whole life, for him to clench his jaw and follow.

Kashiwagi led the way toward the Millennium Tower, hand on Daigo’s shoulder the whole way. It felt so patronising, like that time he accidentally broke a window at the Dojima Family offices when he was ten, and Kashiwagi had done the exact same gesture, marching him to his mother.

“Nice upgrade,” he still said, gazing out the wide window of Kashiwagi’s office once they arrived, “From that little place on Tenkaichi.”

“Well, we make do. I’m second in command now.” Kashiwagi set down the plastic convenience store bag he’d been carrying on his desk, letting out a small, bemused exhale of air. “It’s not all bad. Now come on. Why were you fighting?”

Daigo clicked his tongue and shrugged, staring at the blinking lights below them.

“Daigo…” “I just was, okay?”

He gave a dismissive shrug, walking across the floor toward a cabinet, throwing the doors open. Kashiwagi watched him with tired eyes, slumping down in his chair. “I think you’ve had enough to drink tonight.”

“How did you know that’s what I was looking for?”

“Your breath reeks of it, kid. Your whole body does.” He took out a bento and can of coffee from the plastic bag, raising a brow. “And I know what you’re like, especially lately. How’s being a free man by the way? Haven’t seen you since you were released.”

“It sucks ass.”

Daigo slammed the cabinet door shut, opening another and grinning as he saw half a bottle of whiskey there, as well as some crystal glasses. He heard Kashiwagi tut loudly as he slammed both down on top of the cabinet.

“What did you expect?” he scoffed, pouring a very large measure, “Mom told me the news the moment I got out. What Nishikiyama did. That it wasn’t Kiryu. He hasn’t even come to see me, to apologise for it.”

He knocked the glass back, the sensation warm and familiar down his throat. “Hardly feel free. Just not in jail anymore.”

“What happened to the boy I knew?” Kashiwagi asked, walking over and placing a hand on Daigo’s shoulder once more. This time it was gentle, kind, attempting to be comforting. Not Kashiwagi-san, one of his father’s men, but Uncle Osamu, his mother’s best friend.

Daigo scrunched his nose up, taking another slug of whiskey. “You say that like I’ve ever been cheery.”

“Well, okay, you’ve always been a serious young man, but…”

He just shook his head, moving his hand away. He grabbed the whiskey bottle in the process, making Daigo let out a pathetic little whine.

“I’m not going to enable you any more than I have,” he said firmly, before adding, “I mean it though. You don’t need to throw your life away like this.”

Daigo didn’t reply, because he didn’t like the real answer. There wasn’t much of a life to throw away. He was doing everyone a favour with this.

“You bring me up here just to lecture me old man?” he growled, narrowing his eyes.

Still looking for someone to fight. Kashiwagi would wipe the floor with him, he knew that, but he didn’t care. He also knew he wouldn’t get that kind of satisfaction.

Didn’t mean Kashiwagi wasn’t frustrated with his attitude. He closed his eyes, clenching his fists and let out a deep exhale from his nose. “I saw your mother today. She’s been trying to call you all morning.”

“I know.” The empty glass was set down heavily, with a grunt. Daigo dug around for his phone, holding it out so Kashiwagi could see the countless missed calls and texts from her on the home screen. “I know what today is.”

“...and is that why you’re-”

“You know I’m like this anyway.” He stared at the texts, all similar in tone - Daigo, please call me. Daigo, it’s important. Are you okay? He got them most days from his mother. She was trying so hard. He didn’t want her to. He would rather she forget about him. She deserved that much.

Kashiwagi wasn’t looking at him, staring up at the ceiling as he thought of what to say next.

“I understand that...none of us could have predicted the extent of what your father was like.”

Daigo did a double take, noticing Kashiwagi immediately cringe. At least he knew what he said was stupid.

“Sorry, that was-”

“Yeah. It was.” Daigo looked up, head cocked to his shoulder. “Anyone could have guessed, really. We just pretended otherwise, because somehow he seemed to be the only thing keeping the Tojo Clan from completely falling apart.”

He was up in Kashiwagi’s face now, feeling his chest clench tight. He was working himself up over nothing, over that bastard. He hated it, but thinking of what his father did to get himself killed, the kind of man he was, it made his skin crawl.

“He deserves to spend every birthday after what he did having the most miserable time in hell,” he said with a hiss, noticing his voice wobbling, “I know it. You know it. But Mom refuses to let go-”

The slap felt cathartic, for both of them. Daigo shut his eyes and nodded as his cheek stung. He deserved that. He was trying to provoke that kind of reaction and got exactly that.

“I take back what I said. That boy you were is still there. An insolent brat,” Kashiwagi said, walking back to his desk, “Daigo, one day, you’re going to have to grow up. You can’t keep doing this until you die.”

He threw a semi-sympathetic look over his shoulder, but Daigo mostly felt it was piteous. That’s what he was. A pitiful, useless mess.

“Go home, Daigo. Call your mother. And for everyone’s sake, don’t have anything else to drink tonight.”

Daigo sucked in through his teeth and nodded again as he walked toward the door.

“...good night, Kashiwagi-san.”

No response. Yup. I deserve this.

He made his way home in a daze, everything working in automatic. Kashiwagi’s words kept echoing in his head, over and over.

You can’t keep doing this until you die.

Because that’s what he was trying to do, wasn’t it? Die. Suicide by hedonism. He was born already holding the worst hand life could deal, and he was never going to get anything better. After his father was killed, the one tiny scrap of potential good he could have in his life was gone, even if that prospect was a life of crime.

So why not? Why should he grow up when there was nothing to grow up for?

The moment he was inside his apartment, he slid down the door, staring blankly ahead. He’d needed that talking to, he needed a few really, from people who were currently pretending like he didn’t exist. That’s what he really needed. For Kiryu to talk to him, apologise for ruining his life, try and talk some sense into him. He always knew what to do.

But it was like he didn’t exist. Kiryu didn’t care. Kashiwagi tried to care, but knew he was a lost cause. Who did care?

Daigo opened up his phone again, staring at the missed calls and sighed. That’s who cared. Mom.

He should talk to her. He knew he should. He was an awful son who loved his mother very much, which is why he knew she deserved better. She was trying despite knowing she’d made mistakes, but he just couldn’t let that go.

He hovered on her number, ready to press the button to call...but instead he tossed his phone to land on the couch, walked to the kitchen and wrapped his fingers around the neck of the vodka bottle still on the counter.

He licked his lips, swallowed heavily...but let go, pushing it away.

“You win this time old man,” he grumbled, picking up an energy drink and the donuts he’d bought earlier in the day instead. Kashiwagi could never be allowed to know that though.

He knew this self-control wouldn’t last long. Come morning, he’d be shaking again, a hangover banging in his skull, and he’d be dragging himself towards that bottle like it was the source of life.

The same thing every day.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

He couldn’t have it any other way.

#dojima daigo #ryu ga gotoku #trope: crutches #badthingshappenbingo #undeadbthb #highly recommend reading the end notes on ao3 for the buckwild place the inspiration for this came from

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phantom-curve · 4 years

Text

find the strength, find the melody pt. 6

okay so I wasn’t originally going to include the entire scene in Lessa’s office but, once again, my words ran away from me. now you get this beast of a chapter. it’s the longest one yet, coming in at a whopping 4,383 words so think of it as an apology for letting my other fic take over for a sec and also taking like a million years to post this.

I started working on Luke’s POV because I am nothing if not a fan of jumping the gun, and his writing style is so different and living in his head is such an adorable journey of Julie Molina obsession. really excited for you to see some of the stuff that’s been going on for our sweet lil soft boy. also, if you notice the dialogue style changing a little bit in this/future chapters it’s so I can have the same scenes without a ton of repeated dialogue in Luke’s POV.

writer’s block anecdote of the day: I keep flipping Luke and Alex’s name in Luke’s POV because one of the main OCs in my novel is actually named Alex and has been since I started working on this novel a literal decade ago. oh and there is also an OC named Owen. someday I’ll learn to give my characters unique names, but not today!

taglist: @blue-hat-girl, @lwhoscribbles, @bluefyoto94, @5sosmukefan, @moonlightxnder, @leahthewonder, @kat-maybe-not, @lukewearingbeanies, @imastrugglingartist

Once they were close enough to risk running into other students, Julie dropped Luke’s hand. She made a point of ignoring the frown he gave her, using her now free hand to reach up and adjust her hat. Only, her hat wasn’t there. Her hands landed on loose, untamed curls instead and she immediately turned to Luke with a small amount of panic already building in her chest. He gave her a funny look, and then seemed to notice her hair and somehow understood completely. His hands reached up to lower hers. He let his grasp linger for just a moment before letting go, leaving her hands to dangle limply at her sides. Only his gaze held her in place.

“I never really liked that hat. Your hair is too pretty to cover up like that.”

He said it like a fact. The sky is blue, the sun is hot, your hair is too pretty to cover up. Julie felt a swell of emotions rise again, threatening to overwhelm her. But then he was off towards the front of the school throwing a very casual, “You coming?” over his shoulder at her. She raced to catch up, emotions beaten back for the time being.

They joined the surge of bodies filtering through the front doors. Alex and Reggie stood off to the side inside the entryway of the school. It was impossible to miss the tall blonde in his light pink sweatshirt standing next to the shorter boy in leather. Luke didn’t hesitate to weave his way over to them, but Julie hung back. She wasn’t really sure what was going on between them, wasn’t sure if she felt comfortable enough to just tag along behind him. She caught sight of Flynn’s hot pink beanie bouncing in the distance and let out a sigh of relief. She could separate from Luke here, talk to Flynn, get some perspective on this whole situation.

Luke glanced back at her then. She saw the question in his eyes, felt her heart race when he gave a little side nod like he was inviting her to join him. She swallowed and gave him a half-hearted smile before jerking her thumb over her shoulder in Flynn’s direction. He frowned, but she was already turning away. She pretended she didn’t hear him call her name, slipping into the crowd of students, letting it swallow her up so she could disappear from his sight. Eyes locked on Flynn’s back she moved farther away from the Sunset Curve boys. Flynn only jumped a little when Julie snuck up behind her.

“Jesus, Jules! You scared the shit out of me!”

Her best friend’s familiar voice washed over her like a comforting blanket. All at once, Julie was word vomiting the entire night.

“Flynn, oh my God. He had Mom’s song and he saved it for like, a whole year, and then he gave it to me yesterday, and holy shit I forgot how beautiful it is. And you’re not gonna believe this but I played, like I actually played the piano and sang, and it was like homecoming, it was like the biggest rush, like my mom was right there in the studio with me. And then, oh my god, now you’re really not gonna believe this, but oh my god, then Luke freaking Patterson showed up out of nowhere and he uh might have stayed on the pull-out couch, and then he uhm he made me breakfast this morning? And we walked here together?? He was like...doing this thing where his eyes were going all starry and soft and he was saying really sweet things and it was...a lot and I really don’t know what’s going on with that but uhm I’m kinda freaking out. Also, hey good morning, how are you?”

If Flynn’s mouth opened any wider Julie thought she might unhinge her jaw. In a sea of bustling students, it felt like they were in a bubble all their own. She anxiously fiddled with the bracelets on her wrists as she watched the gears turn behind her best friend’s eyes. After a full two minutes of silence, Flynn’s hand flew out to latch onto Julie’s bicep. Without a word she dragged her down the hallway and into an empty practice room. Flynn released her grip, Julie rubbing at her arm, jeez Flynn was strong!, while the other girl closed the door and flipped on the light that indicated the room was in use. She whirled around, her eyes drilling into Julie’s.

“You’re gonna start at the beginning of that whole mess of truth bombs and spill every last detail about exactly what happened with Luke ‘freaking’ Patterson. Right now. Starting with the bit about your mom’s song.”

Julie took a deep breath and slowly walked Flynn through the events of the last few days, from the moment she had run into Luke after her meeting with Ms. Harrison to when she ran away from him this morning as he was calling her name. Distantly, she was aware of the bell ringing, but it was only homeroom anyway. What did that matter when she was having an existential crisis? Flynn’s mouth only hung open a little bit by the time she was finished telling the story again. Julie felt her shoulders slump. What an emotional rollercoaster. Flynn was quiet for a long moment. Then, she smirked at Julie with a knowing look in her eyes.

“Hmph. Looks like my girl’s got a crush, and his name is Luke. I cannot believe you’ve been holding out on me like this!”

She was teasing, her tone light with a little bit of a mocking sing-song quality to it. But Julie could hear the undercurrent of worry running through her words. She had become quite adept at detecting that particular vocal quality in the last year. She sighed.

“Whatever. Can we focus on the more important revelation that I played the piano and sang again?”

Flynn, best friend that she was, gracefully allowed the subject change.

“Jules, that’s amazing! I’m so happy for you! How did you feel? Alive again?”

Julie laughed, the sound feeling easy and light as it left her chest.

“Yeah, actually, that’s exactly how I felt. It was...honestly, it felt magical. It really did feel like my mom was there with me. There was this sense of peace that just felt...”

She shivered, remembering the sensation of ghostly arms around her shoulders.

“I can’t really describe it. But it was like something just clicked, and I realized that the best way to remember my mom and honor her is through music. The music we made together and the music I’ll make in the future. Rose Molina’s musical legacy will live on in me, and that feels pretty special.”

She couldn’t keep the smile from her face or the happiness from her voice. Peace really had been found out in that studio last night. Julie felt more ready than ever to move out of the darkness she’d kept wrapped around her like a shield for the last year.

“That’s beautiful.”

Flynn pulled Julie into her arms, the two girls sharing a long hug. The bell rang, signaling the end of homeroom, before either girl could say anything more. They left the practice room together, splitting up when they reached their respective classroom doors. Julie swallowed thickly as she settled herself in the back of her Calc class. This was one of the classes she shared with Luke, although she had conveniently forgotten that fact until the moment she sat down at her desk. He appeared in the doorway within seconds, giving her no chance to properly prepare herself. His eyes lit up when he saw her, and he started to make a beeline for the desk next to hers before their teacher caught him.

“Patterson! You know the deal.”

Not even Luke’s best pout could win over Ms. May. She simply raised a brow and pointed at the seat he had been assigned at the front of the classroom. Julie let out a small sigh of relief. It was hard not to smile at Luke’s dramatics as he slumped over and slowly shuffled his way to his desk. He dropped into his seat with a loud huff, glancing over his shoulder at Julie with forlorn expression. She rolled her eyes, smothering her smirk behind her hand. The bell rang again, and he turned his attention to the front of the room as Ms. May called the class to order.

He didn’t stop sneaking looks back at her the entire class period though. It made her want to squirm in her seat every time she dared peek at him and caught him watching her in return. He would always give her one of those soft, sweet smiles and then turn back to his work. It was unsettling, especially when she thought of how he hadn’t paid much attention to her in this particular class before today. Although, now that she really thought about it, maybe he had. Julie had basically been living in a fog of grief for the last year. The school could have caught on fire and she probably wouldn’t have noticed it until her clothes were burning.

She was almost grateful when one of the front desk aides appeared in the door to their classroom. Kayla made direct eye contact with her before knocking on the door frame to get Ms. May’s attention.

“Julie Molina is needed in the office.”

A tense silence fell over the classroom. Every single student remembered the last time Julie had been called down to the office in the middle of a class. Even Ms. May’s eyes flickered with pity for a moment before she gave Julie a gentle smile and nod. Julie stood slowly, forcing herself to keep her breath even as she gathered her books and papers into her backpack. 22 pairs of eyes watched her slowly make her way to the front of the room. One pair burned hotter than the others. Julie met Luke’s eyes for the smallest fraction of a second. Just long enough to see the concern rise up in them. Then she was out the door, walking the uncomfortably familiar path to the front office.

“It’s Lessa. And I think your dad.”

Kayla’s quiet voice startled her. She looked to her left, surprised to find the other girl keeping pace with her. Julie had thought she would walk ahead or peel off to deliver other messages. Instead, she got a small but genuine smile.

“Look, I know things are weird because of the Carrie thing, but I just didn’t want you to freak out too much. Frankly, I think Lessa’s kinda a bitch to pull you out of class like that. She’s an idiot if she doesn’t remember...well anyway. It’s something school related, not like a family thing.”

Kayla briefly squeezed her bicep, almost like she wished she could give Julie a hug. Then she was off down a separate hallway, waving the stack of messages in her hand at Julie as a goodbye. Julie watched her go for a second, feeling off balance and surprisingly emotional. Kayla was a Dirty Candy girl. In the battle lines that had been drawn between Julie and Carrie, Kayla’s position was as obvious as Flynn’s. For all intents and purposes, she shouldn’t be looking out for Julie, and yet, she was anyway. Julie wondered how many small protective moments she had missed from her classmates in the last year. Maybe she hadn’t been quite as alone as she had always felt. She took a deep breath and finished the walk to the front office, a little more ready to face what was on the other side.

Knowing it was school related and that her dad had been called down sent a shiver of apprehension down her spine for a different reason. It had to be something about the music program. Not for the first time, Julie regretted keeping it from her dad for this long. She was out of time now. At least she could thank the universe for small favors. If it had been her Tía in this meeting, Julie’s life would be over. Her dad was more understanding. They would be able to get through this. Julie forced herself to square her shoulders and enter the office with more confidence than she felt. Her mom’s words echoed in her mind you can do it. It was all the strength she needed.

At least until the door to Principal Lessa’s office was closing behind her, and she was face-to-face with her heartbroken father.

“Julie. Take a seat, please.”

Lessa’s voice lacked its usual bite. She just sounded tired. Julie felt that down to her bones. She slipped into the seat next to her dad without a word.

“I’m going to get right to the point. Two of us,” her eyes narrowed slightly on Julie who shifted in her seat in response, “knew this meeting was coming. The other one of us has now been informed as to why it was called.”

The weight of her father’s stare was crushing her. Julie didn’t have to look to see the disappointment there. It was rolling off of him in tsunami sized waves. Lessa continued talking despite the uncomfortable tension growing in the air.

“Now. We have several options. As you both know, Los Feliz is at its core an arts academy. We ask that our students participate in at least one of the arts programs. Participate being the key word there. Julie, it’s clear that participation in our music department isn’t something you’re able to do right now. While we were able to offer you a grace period, we have other students applying for the position you aren’t using. It’s only fair to allow them the chance to participate if you won’t.”

Julie was not going to cry. Not here in front of Principal Lessa and her dad, trapped on school grounds where everyone would see her when she left. She bit the inside of her cheek as hard as she could, letting Lessa’s soft but firm voice wash over her without absorbing anything she was saying. She caught bits and pieces: Lessa offering her a spot in the less desirable subset of illustration in the fine arts department with a chance to reapply for the music department the following semester, her dad requesting information about the new program as well as copies of her transcripts in case they decided to move schools, Lessa’s voice softening as she apologized, her dad’s growing even softer as he thanked her for everything the school had done so far. Then the meeting was wrapping up, and her dad was shaking Lessa’s hand, and Julie was focusing on her backpack so she could get the hell out of there. She barely caught the sad smile Lessa gave her as she said, “Good luck, Julie” in that same goodbye tone Ms. Harrison had used on Monday. Julie had never been so desperate for her old hat to hide behind as she was in that moment.

She shuffled along behind her dad. It was obvious the school day was over for Julie. He was quiet as they made their way out of the office and into the empty hallway. Class had been dismissed while they were with Lessa. Julie was thankful there weren’t any other students around to witness her downfall. Her dad almost made it out of the building before rounding on her. Almost.

“I cannot believe you tried to hide this from me! I thought I raised you better than that, mija. You’re lucky your Aunt had a work meeting she couldn’t miss. Why didn’t you come to me?”

It was the overwhelming disappointment in her dad’s tone that did Julie in. She had never been able to stomach letting her parents down. If Ray’s voice was any indication, she may have reached the rock bottom of let downs.

“I’m sorry.”

She was. She truly was. She didn’t know why she had kept it from her dad except that if she had told him then she would have had to admit it was real. She hadn’t wanted to face that reality just yet.

“I just don’t understand, Julie. You still like music, right? Is it the school? We can find a different music program. You don’t have to stay here just because your mom loved it so much.”

Julie opened her mouth to argue that actually that was exactly why she had to stay here, but a different voice cut her off. An annoyingly familiar voice that had her heart racing and her palms sweating.

“Julie!”

She nearly groaned aloud. Never before in her life had Julie wished to disappear as much as she did right now. Just open a hole in the floor and jump right into it. The absolute last thing she needed right now was Lucas freaking Patterson getting in the middle of this dressing down. Hell, she didn’t even want him witnessing it let alone trying to get involved. She clenched her jaw, ignored her dad’s pointedly raised eyebrow, and turned on her heel to meet the teenage boy that suddenly seemed to be haunting her every step.

“Luke. Hi.”

She kept her voice flat, the go away clear in her tone. His steps faltered for a second, but she could tell by the way his shoulders bounced that he wasn’t going to be so easily deterred. She had run away from him this morning and been saved multiple times in Calc. He wasn’t going to let her avoid him anymore. He approached her and her dad with all the cool confidence a 17-year-old boy in a band could muster. Her mouth almost fell open when he bypassed her completely to stick his hand out towards Ray.

“Luke Patterson. You must be Mr. Molina. It’s very nice to meet you, sir.”

His smile was genuine and charming, his lyrical voice all too polite. Julie wanted to scream as she watched her dad fall for it. Could she not have one single embarrassing moment to herself anymore? Was she doomed to play out the moments she came off looking the worst in front of this cute boy for the rest of her life? Her dad’s eyes lit up as he shook Luke’s hand. Julie wished she could bash her head against something.

“Patterson? Mitch and Emily’s boy?”

“Yes, sir.”

Only Julie caught the way his smile tightened and his shoulders raised defensively at the mention of his parents.

“Wow, you’ve grown quite a bit since the last time I saw you! Good people, your parents.”

Julie rolled her eyes at the dad-ness of it all.

“I forgot you were in the music program with Julie...”

She couldn’t help but cringe as her dad’s words trailed off. That statement had been enough to remind him why he was here in the first place. He turned away from Luke to give her another heartbroken look. She hung her head to escape the censure behind his eyes.

“I am. Actually, that’s why I was trying to find Julie! She was late for rehearsal.”

Julie whipped her head up to glare at the boy still bobbing in front of them. He was trying to cover for her not knowing Lessa had blown that opportunity sky high not even 5 minutes ago. It was sweet in a misguided way, but it was also a painful reminder of all the things Luke had that she didn’t.

“He knows I got kicked out. You don’t have to lie for me.”

Her voice was sharp, and she was fully prepared for the kicked puppy look she was sure he would give her, but instead his smile only grew. His bouncing became impossibly springier, like gravity just didn’t apply to him. And then he winked, actually winked, at her.

“Awh, c’mon, Jules!”

His whine was just the right amount of playful, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Her heart did a weird flip in her chest.

“I know it was supposed to be a surprise, but the poor man is clearly suffering! We should let him in on our little secret.”

Julie’s glare intensified as she ignored the way the words our little secret hit the softest part of her heart. What the hell was he playing at? He winked again, something that should be outlawed given the way it made her stomach drop and knees weaken. Then he held up his hands in a half-hearted I give up gesture.

“Okay, okay. You don’t have to tell him about the plan to get you back into the music program if you don’t want to.”

If this were a cartoon, Julie was sure her eyes would have popped out of her skull completely at those words. As it were, she settled on doing everything she could to keep her jaw from dropping. She had absolutely no clue what he was going on about, but he clearly had some sort of agenda. There was a script to this encounter, she just hadn’t been given her lines. She saw her father shift out of the corner of her eye, arms raising to fold across his chest as he took in the scene unfolding between the two teenagers. Luke was still talking, apparently deciding to capitalize on Julie’s stunned silence.

“I just think it would be helpful if he knew about it. Then we wouldn’t have to sneak around so much. I know you wanted to have it be a big reveal, but we can still surprise your aunt!”

Her dad turned to her with a raised brow, confusion and the smallest seeds of hope growing behind his gaze.

“¿Mija?”

Julie wanted to punch a locker and also vomit. What the actual hell was Luke Patterson doing? She had no frame of reference for whatever game he was playing. No way of knowing if it was serious or some sort of prank. She looked away from her dad to meet Luke’s eyes. He gave her a small, pleading smile, silently begging her to trust him. His eyes became impossibly gentle and she saw that same boy from the studio last night and the kitchen this morning peeking out at her. Ultimately, it was that intimate reminder of his softer side that made her cave.

“It’s nothing, Papí. Just some hair-brained scheme Luke came up with.”

She raised her brow in a challenge, communicating with that one twitch that she wanted to see his endgame here. His face lit up like the 4th of July. She was sure if they had been alone he would have let out a victory whoop. He rocked back on his heels, hands in his pockets, biceps flexing in his best cool kid impersonation.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Molina. We’re getting just as much out of this as you are.”

She didn’t have time to snap back that she wasn’t sure she was getting anything out of whatever ‘this’ was before he was plowing ahead.

“See, my band and I lost our fourth member earlier this year, and we have our Junior Showcase coming up, but man, it’s been a serious struggle to find our sound without Bobby, and we really gotta nail this Showcase. It’s like the one where managers scout out who they really wanna pay attention to as a senior, so we gotta be the best.”

Julie saw where he was going with this before he actually got there, but it was too late to stop him. That was what she got for playing along with his stupid game in the first place.

“And see, I finally figured out that what we really need is someone like Julie to elevate us to that level. Your daughter is a freaking wrecking ball of talent, Mr. Molina. It took a lot of begging, but she finally agreed to play with us. There’s no way Lessa won’t put her back in the music program after we play together.”

His grin was a mile wide, pride shining from his pores. He was 100% sure of this plan, she could see it in the way he looked at her. Absolute blind faith in her. It was as flattering as it was terrifying.

“I see.”

Her dad’s voice was shockingly contemplative. Like he was actually considering supporting this crazy idea. He looked at Luke thoughtfully.

“Do Principal Lessa and Ms. Harrison know about this plan?”

Luke’s hand raised for one quick nervous scratch at the back of his neck. He gave her dad his most charming smile.

“Sometimes you’ve gotta go into ambush mode. Swing that wrecking ball of talent and smash some rules, eh?”

If it were any other parent, that line would have probably been the worst possible thing to say. But this was Ray Molina, whose first date with Rose had involved a small amount of breaking and entering as well as a large amount of running from cop cars and stealing kisses while hiding in alleyways. Rose had never met a rule worth following, and it was part of the reason Ray had fallen in love with her in the first place. Luke had sealed the deal without even really trying. Julie was doomed.

“I like it.”

Ray’s smile was almost as large as Luke’s. It was scary how similar they looked right now, enthusiasm shining in their eyes with an intensity that was borderline maniacal. There would be no getting out of this now.

“Why don’t you boys come over to the house after school? You can practice in our studio.”

Julie didn’t even get a chance to open her mouth before Luke was agreeing. She watched him shake her dad’s hand once again, some weird kind of bonding look passing between the two of them. Her dad wrapped a tight arm around her shoulder, and then turned them both towards the front doors again. Julie cast one final look at Luke over her shoulder, heart skipping a beat as he bit his lip and gave her yet another wink.

“See ya later, boss!”

Had her dad not been holding her up, Julie would have melted right into a puddle of mush. Yup, she was totally and completely doomed.

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amanda-glassen · 3 years

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Reality Bites

It's the last day of school in 1992 and Alex is finally going to tell Olivia how she feels...if only she can get five minutes alone with her.

Previous chapters can be found here.

Chapter 7: Slushies and A Hickey the Size of Texas

She may have only known her for about seven hours, but Olivia had already gotten her into the backseat of her car...just not in the way that she had expected. The car had won her a superlative and she was probably the only girl to win the category of Coolest Car in their school’s history, but popularity contests didn’t matter to Olivia and it was evident by the way Olivia tried to shrug it all off while they flipped through the yearbook in the parking lot of a convenience store by their school.

“You look so cute in this picture!” Alex told her and she did look cute posing for the superlative picture with her red 1991 Mustang GT. Olivia’s car was her pride and joy and, although Alex always skipped the superlative pages in the yearbook, she didn’t want to stop looking at Olivia’s picture.

Olivia covered the picture with her hand. “Stop! I do not look cute! Superlatives are nothing more than a lame popularity contest, anyway. They don’t mean anything.”

“Says the girl who won one of these lame popularity contests.”

When Alex became distracted with stirring her blue bubblegum flavored slushie－trying to make sure it had the correct ice to syrup ratio－Olivia grabbed the yearbook and put it in the front seat. Alex began to wonder why Olivia didn’t want to look through the yearbook with her until she remembered the superlative on the next page was “Most Desirable Girl” and along with that title came a picture of Jenna Crossley. Jenna－Liv’s fling throughout the entire school year－and the girl she hoped she wouldn’t spend the rest of the summer comparing herself to. Did she hook up with Jenna in this very backseat?

Olivia scooted over as close as she could so she could rest her head on Alex’s shoulder. “I know what you’re thinking and, no, I didn’t hook up with Jenna or any other girl in this backseat. You’re it for me and, if we ever break up, I’m swearing off women forever. I’ll never love again.”

“You need to stop that,” Alex laughed.

“What?” Olivia asked. She had slurped too much of her cherry slushie, bringing on the inevitable brain freeze. “Son of a...ow…ouch...why do I do this to myself every time? I never learn.” She held her hand to her forehead and squirmed in her seat－anything to keep her mind off of her brain freeze. “Okay, I’m better now.”

Alex noticed Olivia had moved further away when she was squirming, so she wrapped her arm around her waist and pulled her in again. “Every time I try to be introspective, you pull me out of it. You need to stop that and let me wallow in self pity about not having the nerve to ask you out on the first day of school.”

Olivia took another sip of her slushie and, it dawned on Alex that Olivia really never really did learn her lesson, but she thought the brain freeze was cute nonetheless. “Like I said earlier today, it’s my compulsive adorable syndrome,” Olivia responded, trying to downplay the effect of her second brain freeze. “And you can’t place the blame on yourself. I could have asked you out, too. I could have asked you out every single weekend. Plus, there was prom and homecoming and winter formal and Sadies, but we can’t waste our time thinking about that. We just have to make the most of the next three months.”

That morning, Alex’s friends had asked her what she liked about Olivia. She told them, physically, she liked everything about Olivia and she did, but with every passing moment, the list of things she liked about Olivia grew longer. Beyond just her smile and her figure－the two things that first attracted her to Olivia－Alex liked how Olivia’s hands fit so perfectly with hers, how Olivia’s lips felt against hers, how Olivia, in such a short period of time, had seamlessly integrated her into her world and, it made Alex smile to think about it, but she even liked how Olivia used three Ninja Turtles band-aids on her knee to cover some scrapes that she got from a failed skateboarding trick. Most importantly, there was now the list of non-superficial things she liked about Olivia. No one had ever made her laugh the way Olivia did. No one had ever comforted her the same way Olivia did and no one had ever made her feel as alive as Olivia did.

During the drive to the convenience store, they both discovered that the other had a love for the classics and, although they were still in the parking lot, they left the radio on so they could listen to some of the feel good songs that reminded them of childhood or, in Alex’s case, the childhood that she had fantasized about having. When a Beach Boys song came on, Alex noticed Olivia smile uncontrollably.

“I heard this song with Tim the other day and it gave him the not-so-brilliant idea that he and I should go surfing this summer,” Olivia shook her head. “Because he said, and I quote, surfing is just like skateboarding but on water.”

“Are you going to try it?”

“No way! It’s nothing like being on a skateboard. I can’t get swept away by some strong current or bitten by a shark while skateboarding. There’s no way in hell I’ll try it and nothing can change my mind.”

Alex gave her a chaste kiss and it made her heart happy to see how that single kiss made Olivia shy all of a sudden. “That’s too bad because I think you’d look so hot on a surfboard. I can already picture you in a wetsuit top and some bikini bottoms. I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off of you.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“I’ll try it!” Olivia said almost too enthusiastically. “And, yes, I’m well aware of how easy you can make me change my mind about anything in your own...special...way and I’m okay with that.”

Seeing that Olivia was finished with her slushie, she took the cup from her and put it in the cupholder in the front seat along with her own. While bent over the center console, she rummaged through her backpack until Olivia playfully pulled her back over and she accidentally or maybe not so accidentally landed on top of her. “Liv!”

“What?” Olivia laughed. “As much as I was enjoying the view of you in that position, I missed you.”

“What did you miss?” Alex asked playfully.

“Kissing you,” Olivia responded before gently biting Alex’s lower lip. “Touching you.”

Alex didn’t know what had come over her and the girl she was that morning wouldn’t have believed it, but she straddled Olivia right then and there in the backseat of her car. “Is this okay?” she asked, her shyness suddenly returning to her.

“Alex,” Olivia said softly, her hands now caressing Alex’s back, underneath her Harvard t-shirt. “Anything you ever want to do in this position is okay with me.”

“Liv!” Alex blushed.

“I’m serious!” Olivia said in between kisses. “With a single kiss, you convinced me to go surfing. I don’t even want to know other ways you can convince me to do things. Wait, nevermind. I actually do want to know all the ways you can convince me to do things.”

“Olivia!” Alex laughed. She wanted to maintain her composure, but instead she leaned in so she could bury her face in the crook of Olivia’s neck. She started to delicately kiss her neck, smiling when she noticed one of her kisses had tickled Olivia, but it wasn’t long until the playful gesture wasn’t enough for Alex. She gently nibbled on her neck, tasting just a hint of saltiness on her skin. Alex didn’t want to admit it, but even the taste of Olivia’s sweat turned her on. Was it Olivia’s sex pheromones or some other term from 10th grade honors biology causing this? Why am I thinking of my 10th grade bio class right now? But when Alex heard Olivia moan, she no longer cared about that class or anything other than making Olivia elicit that sound again.

“Kiss me,” Olivia said, the tone of her voice making her words sound somewhere between a question and a command.

Alex felt Olivia’s hands gripping her thighs, pulling her in even closer. Olivia’s hands on her body made her feel even more turned on than she had ever felt before, almost to the point where it hurt and feeling Olivia’s tongue in her mouth did nothing to ease her tension. It wasn’t her first time making out with Olivia that day, but Alex knew this was different－unbridled even－and the way she felt Olivia’s tongue moving in her mouth made her wish she could feel it on one part of her body in particular.

...and that’s when she heard the perfect song start playing on the radio. It was the perfect song while she made out with her perfect girl. The song was nearly thirty years old and, whenever she listened to it in her bedroom on one of her mom’s old 45s, she thought about Olivia and what it would be like to kiss her and slow dance with her. Slow dancing with her would have to wait until tomorrow night, but until then she was still able to kiss her as much as she wanted. She hoped Olivia wouldn’t notice, but her mind started to wander. With every kiss, she realized it wouldn’t be long before she fell in love with Olivia－if she wasn’t falling in love with her already.

Alex had found the 45 in a trinket box in the attic just a few months ago. There were five trinket boxes that Alex had rummaged through one autumn night. Each box was identical except for the boy’s name that it was labelled with and inside were old photographs, love letters, and records with love notes written on the sleeve. These boys were all a part of her mother’s youth－the carefree time in her life before she had a husband and children. Mrs. Cabot never kept her children’s old art projects and Mother’s Day cards, but she kept all of her old photographs and love letters there in the attic as a testament to who she once was and Alex wished she could have known this version of her mother.

With Olivia leaving in three months, she began to wonder if their relationship would eventually become nothing more than little trinkets in a box that she’d occasionally revisit. She figured the two of them would continue a long-distance relationship for the first semester until winter break when Olivia would tell her that she had met someone－maybe she lived down the hall or they met at a party－Alex wasn’t sure, but she knew it’d be Olivia that would find someone because being clear across the country from her family and friends would leave her wanting to feel something or even someone again. They’d share a night of angry breakup sex, or so Alex assumed based on what she had seen in movies, before never seeing each other until their later in their adult lives, at their 20-year high school reunion or some other cliche meetup. They’d both be someone’s wife and maybe even someone’s mother. The two of them would share a few minutes of awkward conversation and, in that brief period of time, she’d wonder what might have been before realizing Olivia was no longer that playful, grungy girl with piercings and a Ninja Turtle band-aid, but it wouldn’t matter because that eighteen-year-old girl would live on in that trinket box filled with some mixtapes and whatever else Alex was able to collect during the summer and maybe autumn of 1992.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Olivia pulling away from her kiss. Those dark brown eyes were looking into hers with so much concern and so much sincerity that they were all Alex could focus on until Olivia started to kiss her newly-formed tears. “Let’s stop, okay?”

“Why?” Alex asked, although she felt it was obvious why Olivia wanted to stop.

Olivia held her as close as she could while Alex rested her head on her shoulder. “Because the place you were in right now－where making out is just going through the motions while you’re thinking of something or someone else－I’ve been there before and I know how much it hurts.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to kiss you. I’m just thinking about the future and－”

“And me leaving in September?” Olivia asked as she continued to hold Alex. “Like I said on the football field, I’m leaving this state, but I’m not leaving you. But, really, you don’t know me that well yet, Alex. Maybe in September, you’ll be glad I’m leaving.”

“That’s impossible.”

“You say that now, but wait until we have an entire three months at each other’s side,” Olivia teased. “Let’s see...my IQ goes down a few points every time I hang out with my brother and Travis. My favorite show is Beavis and Butt-head. You just witnessed that I never learn my lesson with brain freezes. My parents think I spend most of my life looking like I just woke up. That’ll go over well with your parents at the country club. Can you imagine? They’re expecting their daughter’s girlfriend to be some cute, preppy girl and instead they’ll get me in ripped jeans and a men’s flannel shirt. No, I’ll clean up nice for them and I’ll make sure to clean up nice for you tomorrow night. I’m sure there’s a presentable young woman somewhere underneath all of this.”

“Olivia!” Alex laughed. Although she wasn’t out to her parents yet and she didn’t know when or if her parents would actually meet her, Olivia had managed yet again to make her laugh when she was feeling low.

“There’s my girl. You have the cutest laugh and I’m willing to do anything to make you laugh, even if it’s at my own expense.”

Alex was about to kiss Olivia again when they heard the sound of someone hitting Olivia’s driver’s side window with the palms of their hands. “Get it, sis!”

“Tim!” Olivia glared at him. Olivia may have been frustrated, but Alex found the whole situation amusing and she knew that as long as she was with Olivia, she’d be subjected to teasing from Olivia’s stepbrother and their friends.

“Get out of the car. I gotta show you something.”

Olivia gave Alex one last kiss. “Let me go settle him. I’ll be right back.”

“Brainiac Barbie, too,” Tim told her. “I have a present for her. Wait, the grape slushie is here now? Old Man Henderson said not until July.”

“...no?” Olivia gave him a confused look.

When they got out of the car, Alex noticed Travis was now standing out there with Tim. There were two guys in the backseat of Tim’s car and it didn’t take long for Alex to realize it was her brother and her brother’s best friend, Carisi.

“Minor niners, out of the car!” Tim ordered.

Carisi was completely unscathed, but Alex tried to control her laughter when she saw her brother. Tim had put maroon lipstick on him, some glittery eyeshadow, and an obnoxious amount of bright pink blush on his cheeks. “Forget something?” her brother Josh asked. “You and Olivia promised that you’d be there early to pick me up.”

Their fifteen minute window of opportunity to get slushies before picking up Josh had turned into the two of them hanging out in the backseat of Olivia’s car for nearly an hour. “Josh, I’m sorry.” Alex tried to sound sincere, but her laughter made Josh think otherwise.

“Sure, you are,” Josh folded his arms and glared at his sister. “I got dirt on you, Alex, so you－wait, why is your tongue purple?” His tone of voice was no longer angry. “Is the grape slushie here now? Old Man Henderson said not until July.”

Before she could respond, she noticed Casey pulled up into the parking lot with Connie in the front seat and Amanda Rollins in the back. “Amanda’s gonna see me like this?” Josh smacked Tim on the arm and Tim shoved him in return.

“Like you had a chance,” Tim snickered. “Amanda doesn’t like either of you clowns.”

With Connie, Casey, and Amanda now with them, Alex felt bad for how embarrassed her brother was until she remembered that he was probably going to spend the rest of the summer blackmailing her.

“Change of plans,” Casey told Alex. “We’re not going to the park.”

“We’re going swimming at Abbie’s instead,” Connie added. Swimming at Abbie’s house? That means Olivia in a bikini.

“But Georgia Peach, here, still has to do our snack run,” Casey pointed out.

“A snack run?” Josh asked in disbelief. “Is that what girl hazing is?” But the girls ignored him while they looked at Alex and Olivia.

“The grape slushie is here?” Casey asked in disbelief. “Last week, Old Man Henderson said it wouldn’t be here until July.”

“What’s everyone’s obsession with the grape slushie?” Olivia asked.

“Look where you’re at,” Connie reminded Olivia. “You’re not in Manhattan anymore. The only thing to look forward to in this town is a new slushie flavor.”

“Wait a minute, you weren’t even excited about the grape slushie,” Josh reminded his sister. “You’re predictable when it comes to slushies. You always get blue bubblegum.”

“Liv always gets cherry,” Tim added. “I tease her every time about her wanting a cherry in her mouth and then she slugs me in the arm. It’s a thing we have.”

“There’s no grape slushie!” Olivia said in a frustrated tone of voice. “Why do you all think Alex and I had grape slushies? I had cherry. Alex had blue bubblegum. Can we shift our focus to something else now?”

Casey started laughing uncontrollably before hugging Alex. “I’m so happy for you. You, too, Olivia.”

“What’s going on?” Carisi asked. “Old Man Henderson wasn’t lying? There’s really no grape slushie?”

“You guys are so dense,” Amanda told him. “Think back to kindergarten. Combining red and blue gives you…”

“Purple!” Josh responded. “If Alex had a blue slushie and Olivia had a red slushie and both of them have purple tongues...then that means...eww, that’s disgusting! I got hazed, Alex, because you were too busy sucking face with Olivia to pick me up?”

Alex didn’t know whether she wanted to keep laughing at her brother’s misfortune or hide because of how he had just announced to everyone what she and Olivia had been doing, but just as she had been doing all day, her girl made it better for her.

“Leave her alone,” Olivia told him and she put her arm around Alex to hold her close to her side. “...or I’ll make you leave her alone. What Tim did is nothing compared to what I can do to you.”

Tim roughly patted Josh’s shoulder. “She’s not lying, man. She is not lying. By the way, Liv, you got a hickey the size of Texas on your neck. Tomorrow’s your graduation day and you know Mom and Dad are gonna lose it.”

Alex expected Olivia to be as embarrassed as she was, but Olivia was in control of the situation. “I’ll just put some neutralizer and foundation over it,” Olivia smirked. “No big. Being with Alex is worth any trouble I’ll get in.”

“Don’t soil our valedictorian’s good name,” Travis said jokingly.

“She’s soiling it herself,” Casey responded. “Finally!”

They were teased mercilessly for the next few minutes, but none of it phased Olivia. In fact, she took it in stride. She held Alex and kissed her cheek and told her how beautiful she was regardless of how much teasing they got for it. Before long, Alex stopped caring about the teasing and just revelled in the feeling of being in Olivia’s arms. Pretty soon, her world would change and she knew she’d miss this when she moved to Boston－hanging out with her friends and her girl in the parking lot of a convenience store in a town where a new slushie flavor and a new couple were a big deal.

“So, there’s really no grape slushie yet?” Josh asked. “You’re saying if I go in there and ask Old Man Henderson－”

“For the last time, Josh,” Olivia began. “There is no grape slushie and if you ask about it again...”

#cabenson #alex cabot #olivia benson

8 notes · View notes

ssidesblog · 4 years

Text

do you really talk to god? i wonder what he tells you

patton centric, 3,397 wc, angst, hs au, ao3

patton comes out to his parents, it isn’t pretty

The cold night air had a personal vendetta against him, Patton was sure. He sucked in and brought a hand up to his throat as it burned. His spit was thick but he swallowed it just to have some kind of liquid aid his aching throat. His head pounded in beat to his heart and he couldn’t say he enjoyed the feeling. A gust of wind sent a shiver down his spine.

Maybe it wasn’t logical to be sitting on his roof in the middle of a cold October night but Patton couldn’t seem to bring himself down to his room. Despite the less than ideal weather, the night calmed him. The stars weren’t bright and he knew there were too few to make up a whole night sky but he could see more than usual. No porch lights polluted the sky, everything was asleep; husbands and wives slept in their beds, their kids doing the same, and Patton sat awake but he was as quiet as the people below him, save for a sniffle here and there but he’s sure somebody was snoring loudly enough to make up for the noise.

And Patton couldn’t sleep anyway. Too many emotions ran through his heart and spread themselves through his veins like a disease until he acknowledged their presence. And once they were known, the tears were to be expected. These emotions were not new. They were an old thing that had made themselves a home in Patton’s body, even though he had made it clear they weren’t invited; he didn’t want to be a house, he didn’t want to be an occupied space. But once they had moved in it wasn’t as if Patton could totally ignore them. On most days he did, but they had always loved the night anyway.

So Patton sat on his roof. He was messy and snot faced and the tear streaks on his face were only beginning to dry. He pulled his knees to his chest and rested his folded arms on top. His chin was placed on his forearms and his gaze found its way to the sky.

“I never did understand this part.” Patton spoke, talking to nobody, or maybe he was talking to everyone. He didn’t know. He just knew he had to address somebody. “I don’t really like it.” He whispered.

“Is there a reason you stuck me here with them?” His eyes searched for a figure maybe made of stars. “You’re known for being kind but I don’t see how this is fair.”

A pause as if waiting for a response.

“You’ve never been a talker.” He mumbled. God didn’t really like answering Patton’s questions. He thought maybe he did answer his curiosity in little ways, in the people Patton surrounded himself with, in ways Patton couldn’t really describe. He let out a sigh.

“I hope you’re right in the end. I never have been a fan of sad endings,” He lowered his gaze to his small town’s skyline, “Though, Virgil has always told me a sad ending is necessary sometimes. But is that how my story ends?” By the time he asked the question his voice had gone almost completely quiet.

“I don’t know what to do. How do I know what’s right? How do I work up the courage to say who I am? Confidence has never been my strong suit.” The sky never opened its mouth to respond. Patton knew God would never speak to him in such an obvious way. “How am I supposed to proclaim who I am when I still don’t know fully who that is?” In the quiet of the night, Patton realized with a start who he needed to be talking to. Because even though it was nearly three in the morning, he knew he could talk to him, knew he would be willing to have Patton pick him up, drive his truck to the park by their houses and would sit with him until he felt better.

Roman maybe said yes to things too easily. Or maybe he just said yes to Patton too easily. Patton couldn’t find it in himself to reassure him it was ok if he said no, because despite his efforts, Patton was not a selfless person. One could argue that he was selfish and he would agree: hesitant, reluctant. But he couldn’t help it. Roman was a constant in his life, he kept him grounded and safe. He knew just what to say when Patton wasn’t feeling well, he knew when to push, he knew when he needed a hug. He knew Patton in ways Patton didn’t even know himself. Patton always thought Roman may have been a guardian angel. He doesn’t think he’ll ever not think that. He could just imagine God sending him down in the form of a freckled 5 year old kid who’s left front tooth was missing, stick in hand, though if he was asked that was his sword, determined to protect him. Roman always referred to their meeting as fate, a sort of destiny. Patton found himself agreeing.

The house creaked when he stepped back inside. The wailing only stopped when he was out the front door, phone in hand. The text he’d sent was met with an almost immediate response, a confirmation. With that, Patton got in his car and drove one street over. Roman was already standing on the curb when he got there.

“Did you have another freaky sixth sense moment?” Patton asked as Roman sat in the passenger's seat.

“I did,” Roman said with a grin, “Woke up in a start knowing you would be needing me.” Patton never knew if Roman was telling the truth. He never asked. The short ride to the park was made in silence. Patton parked the car and climbed out, jumping into the back. Roman quickly followed. They lied on their backs, facing the too open sky. The small blanket that covered the bed of the truck only took away some of the uncomfortable ridges of the trunk.

“So what’s on your mind, Pat?” Roman’s voice was softer than usual, a certain reservedness only used with his friends.

“How do I come out when I already know it’s going to end badly?” Patton asked, getting straight to the point. There was no use beating around the bush.

“You don’t need to come out.”

“I’m sick of not being able to be my true self, whoever that is,” Patton’s voice could only be described as tired, “I need to be able to live as myself to figure out who I am. I’m almost an adult, Roman and I don’t even know who I am yet.”

“You will never just be one person,” Roman laid his hand out, palm faced up. An invitation. Patton took it. “You’re always changing and growing.”

“How can I grow when the things I need to sustain myself are being taken away from me?” Patton squeezed Roman’s hand, “They haven’t given me the room to be my own person. I’m outgrowing the room they gave me and they can’t see that. That room was never meant for me.” Roman took a second to respond. His thumb lazily traced over Patton’s knuckles.

“They’ll never notice until you tell them. You need to do what will make you happy, Patton.”

“What if I’m not made for happiness?”

“There’s no reason for a what if,” Roman’s gentle tone felt like a comforting hand on his back, “I know you’re made for happiness. That’s what everybody is made for. Pain and sadness are necessary components to happiness. You’ve seen Inside Out.” Conversations were never heavy with Roman. He made things easier.

“I’m scared.” Patton admitted.

“You should be.” Roman’s reply would sound harsh to anybody else, but Patton understood.

“If I need a place to stay-”

“You don’t even need to ask, Puffball,” Roman was smiling, “You’ve heard it from each of us, our house is your house.” Patton knew that, but this could be messy and he could need a permanent place to live.

“I’ve already told Mama you might need a place to live whenever you decide to come out. She’s more than happy to let you stay with us.” Roman said, sensing Patton’s hesitation.

“I couldn’t be more thankful.”

“You’re like a son to her. Probably her favorite.” Roman said with a laugh. Patton chuckled. They laid in silence for a few minutes. It was peaceful and the grounding weight of Roman’s hand in his made it easier for Patton to breathe.

“When are you gonna do it?” Roman asked.

“Tomorrow,” Patton responded, much to Roman’s surprise, “I’ll keep putting it off if I don’t.” Patton explained.

“That makes sense.” There’s a pause before he speaks again, “Please be careful.” He moved their intertwined hands to his chest, holding Patton’s hand protectively.

“I’ll try my best.” Patton responded.

Maybe God would never give a direct answer to Patton. He didn’t mind, not really, because he had Roman and his calloused hands and his soft words. Maybe this was God’s way of answering him.

Maybe this was a bad idea. Patton’s hands couldn’t stop shaking. He’d felt nauseous all day. But he knew what needed to be done and today had to be the day. Patton made his way to the small dining table, setting out plates and utensils as his mother had asked. He took his seat shortly after. He looked to the painting of Jesus that hung in front of him. He said a quick prayer.

“How was your day?” Patton directed this question at his father.

“Work was usual.” He answered. The response was too short, his dad was already in a bad mood. That was less than ideal. The dinner was eaten in silence. That was commonplace, conversation hadn’t been easy with his parents lately. Patton took their dishes to the kitchen and cleaned them as quickly as he could.

“Can I talk to you guys?” Patton asked once he’d stepped into the living room where his parents had migrated.

“Of course, sweetheart.” His mom muted the TV and suddenly Patton felt so small. His parents stared at him expectedly. He took in a deep breath.

“I know this is going to be hard to hear,” His eyes were focused on his fidgeting hands, “But you need to know. I’m gay.” Patton knew that wasn’t the full truth. He was bisexual but that gave too much hope for Patton’s parents to hold onto. His voice was low, almost a rumble. The silence stretched on for what could have been days, weeks, years. Patton decided on years. His dad stood up from the couch. He watched his mom and dad have a conversation with their eyes. Finally, he looked at Patton, expression a mix of anger, disgust, and, mostly, disappointment.

“I want you out of my house within the hour.” His voice was cold and tight. Patton knew this was a possibility, he always thought that’s how it would end and he thought he’d accepted it. But now it was happening and he was angry. Because this was his dad. They had gone fishing once a month, every month since he was 10. He was always humoring Patton’s dad jokes and even adding some of his own. He had taught him how to ride a bike and then how to drive. He’d always been so patient.

“So that’s it?” Patton asked incredulously, “16 years of being your son and suddenly that’s all thrown out the window?” Patton’s voice shook but the anger was still clear. And maybe even he could hear how broken he sounded.

“I didn’t raise you to be like that, Patton. You’re no son of mine.” His dad’s voice held a malice Patton had never heard before. Patton looked at his mom, eyes pleading.

“You heard him, Patton. Don’t make things difficult.” His mom had always agreed with his dad. They were good together, there wasn’t a doubt in Patton’s mind that they were made for each other. He looks at the woman who had taught him to read. She was always quiet and reserved, nothing quite like himself. She always talked about the importance of words, how the words he said would affect the people he spoke them to. She had taught him to always be kind.

“I guess kindness has its limits, huh?” Patton mostly mumbled the phrase but his parents still heard it.

“We are being generous,” His dad practically spat out the words, “I’d have you shipped out to one of those conversion areas but that doesn’t take away the sin.”

“God still loves me.” Patton said.

“God may love despite the sin, but I am not God, Patton.” With that, his dad left the room. Patton was shaking again. He could feel his eyes tear up but he willed himself not to cry. He gave a final glance to his mother before disappearing to his room. He already had his clothes packed. They had already been tucked away in a suitcase for two days. He shoved his laptop and other electronics into a backpack. Patton didn’t have much, a reflection of his family’s wealth. He didn’t mind and at the moment it seemed like a blessing. He took out his phone and sent a text to Roman saying he would be staying with him. He left his house with two backpacks and one suitcase. His mother stood on the porch.

“We do not want you to come back.” She said, “And even though I am angry and disgusted, I want you to be safe.” His heart ached. His parents were never evil, he knew this, no matter how upset he was.

“I’m staying with a friend.” Was his response. She nodded. Patton took that as his cue to leave and walked to his truck, shoving his things in the back seat.

“Patton.” He looked at his mom. “I know what your father said but you will always be our child. God gave us the responsibility of taking care of you, but I do not think we are capable of handling…: She paused, a flash of disgust graced her face, “Your situation. I think we both know it’s better for you to not be under our roof.” He nodded. She turned and opened the door to the house and paused. She looked back at Patton. “God may love you in spite of your lifestyle but always remember that you do not know God, Patton.” And with that she entered the house and closed the door.

Patton was parked outside Roman’s house shortly after. His truck was turned off but he still sat in there. His hands were gripped to the steering wheel. He could feel his breathing become more shallow. He was shaking again. Suddenly, he couldn’t breath. Tears were welling up in his eyes and as they started to descend down his face he felt something in him break. He curled in on himself, arms thrown over the steering wheel, forehead resting against its leather. He didn’t remember when he’d started screaming but by the way his throat scratched he knew it had to have been for a while. He couldn’t stop himself and he didn’t know how much he wanted to. Maybe he should be feeling like this. His own parents had just kicked him out and used his own God against him. He could hear himself calling for his mom, which he knew was no use. It was a habit, he had always been able to call for his mom if he was hurting. But she’d just let him leave. And he didn’t understand what she’d said and the thought of those being the last words she’d ever say to him made him sob even louder.

His car door opened and he saw a familiar face. Olive skin and freckles, deep, brown eyes, perfect teeth. Roman was familiar. He was vaguely aware he was having a panic attack. Roman was instructing him to take in deep breaths. He tried his best but he kept messing up. But Roman was patient. Like his dad. And Patton needed to stop thinking of them. After a few minutes, Patton had calmed down enough to gather up his bags and walk into the house. Roman’s mom stood in the living room, water and medication in hand. She walked over to him and placed both items in his hands.

“The aspirin will help the eventual headache.” She spoke softly, kindly. She rubbed his arm before disappearing into her own room. Patton was led to Roman’s room, which would be doubling as Patton’s. He set down his things next to an air mattress that already had a blanket lying on it.

“Mama said we’ll get you a bed as soon as you’re feeling ok to go out.” Roman said, sitting on his own bed. Patton couldn’t help feeling like he was intruding.

“Thank you.” His voice was hoarse. He took the aspirin and downed the whole cup of water.

“Come lay down here,” Roman patted his bed, “I’ll put on Winnie the Pooh and you can try to relax.” Patton would always be amazed at Roman’s ability to know exactly what he needed. He crawled into Roman’s bed, wrapped in the blanket that had been on the air mattress. Roman connected his computer to the small TV that sat at the end of his bed and played Pooh’s Grand Adventure. He joined Patton on the bed and wrapped his arms around him. They stayed like that the entire movie. Roman made jokes here and there and Patton could only manage a quick chuckle. But by the end of it, he felt a little better.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Roman asked as the credits played.

“There’s not much to say,” Patton’s voice was barely above a whisper, “They kicked me out. My dad told me I’m not his son and my mom told me otherwise while also implying that God’s love for me was conditional.” Patton knew he wasn’t going to cry again, he’d already let it all out, but his voice was weak when he spoke and he sounded near tears.

“Well she’s just not right.” Roman said. Patton tilted his head. Roman brushed Patton’s hair out of his face and kept his hand rested on his cheek as he talked, “From what I know of God he will love you no matter what. That’s what’s so special about God, he holds unconditional love for his children.” Patton knew Roman wasn’t good with religion, it hadn’t been a part of his life for many years. But he was right and deep down Patton knew he was.

“Patton,” Roman spoke again, “I love you no matter what, and I know it’s different because I’m your friend, but you mean the world to me. Your parents are assholes for doing this to you. Allow yourself to be angry and upset. You don’t have to pretend to be happy.” Roman held Patton’s head to his chest and tangled his hand into his hair.

“You know me well.” Patton weakly responded.

“And knowing you has been one of the best things to happen to me.” Roman said and placed his head on top of Patton’s. Voices from the TV could be heard coming from Remus’s room next door, and if Patton listened closely he could hear Roman’s mom getting ready for her night shift. It was another average day in the house, it was all so familiar.

“I think I may be home.” Patton whispered, as if saying it too loud would make it not true.

“I think you may be, too.” Roman said.

That night, Patton slept in Roman’s bed. It felt more like a sleepover that way. Patton knew things would take getting used to, but he knew he’d be able to adjust. Roman had always been a home and Patton took residence the moment they met eyes at the age of 5 years old. Guardian angel, fate, destiny, Roman, home; it was all the same to Patton. And maybe Patton couldn’t talk to God, maybe he would only be left with unanswered questions, but being held in Roman’s arms felt an awful lot like God was talking to him in that moment.

“It's okay.” He seemed to say and who was Patton to argue with God.

#sanders sides #patton sanders #roman sanders #sanders sides fanfiction #patton angst #my hs au #yes the first thing i wrote for this au was angst #and what about it #talk of religion #being gay and religious isnt a fun experience #wrote this while coming down from being hgh #so the language is very flowery #also this made me want to write royality #they really are just best friends in this au #but man....#and to people who may say this sounds like more than friendship #it really isnt this is how me and my friends are #my friend called me home the other day and i almost cried

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cottage-babe · 4 years

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Burning Scars part IV

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Masterlist

I’ve been watching haikyuu and Nishinoya is so cute :(((

This chapter is going to fill in pretty much EVERYTHING related to Y/n’s past. also i feel like this shorter than my other chapters idk

Summary: Y/n, a werewolf from a hidden village, comes across Zuko and Iroh after being exiled. How has fate intertwined the wolf into the avatar's destiny?

*****This chapter takes place on Season 2 Episode 11*****

___

“Thank you,” Y/n said as she accepted the cup of tea from Mushi.

The boys were surprisingly welcoming to her. Lee had begun to ask questions as soon as she came up to them, but his uncle had told him to stop and let her speak. He set up a pot of tea and had now given some to the young teens.

All throughout the wait for the drink, Y/n’s mind was racing. Where does she start? How much does she tell them? The girl desperately wanted to come clean, but her loyalty to her pack deterred her. However, she knew that she had no obligations anymore, so why was she still so stuck on them?

Mushi took the spot next to Lee and quietly sipped his drink. His eyes weren’t on her, but she could feel that his desire for answers was just as strong as Lee’s.

She took a deep breath and started her story.

“So I’m a- uh- werewolf.”

Silence.

The girl knew that she probably should’ve continued from there, but she couldn’t help but wait for their reactions. Or rather, lack thereof.

Y/n didn’t want to look up at their faces. If she did, she knew that their facial expressions would cause her to assume things and she didn’t want to guess their emotions; if they felt something, then they would need to say it.

“Oh, well, we know that much!” The uncle laughed lightly, breaking the obvious tension.

“But Uncle, I thought you said they were only myths; fiction.” Lee questioned.

“What more proof do you need? She’s a living, breathing piece of evidence!”

The teen nodded his head as he thought about that logic. Y/n assumed that it would be hard for him to process; just yesterday he had heard the story and now there she was, telling him that it wasn’t a myth, it was completely real and in front of him.

“So, are you the only one? Or are there more?” Lee thought for a moment. “Wait, no, you mentioned a town before; there’s a whole village of werewolves?!”

I have no obligations toward my pack. I have no obligations toward my pack. I have no obligations toward my pack.

“Yes,” she said confidently. It was about time that she went past her fear of her pack. They could no longer control her, she was her own person who could make her own decisions.

But they’re your family.

Y/n shook the thought out of her head. Family doesn’t treat family that way.

“Don’t ask me where they live or anything, because I won’t speak it.” Y/n succumbed to her guilty side slightly, hoping it would soothe her small feelings of regret.

“We won’t, we promise,” Mushi said while sending a stern stare toward Lee. The boy nodded his head once again.

Lee continued with his questions, though. “Why aren’t you with them then? You came to us two days ago, alone. Did something happen?”

Why does he ask so many questions?

She supposed that if she wanted to maintain their trust, she would have to wipe the slate clean; no more lies and no more hiding. They already knew that her kind existed, so there was no way that she would let them leave her behind.

“In my pack, there’s a rite of passage that we must do when we turn 16...”

___

This was it. The day that everyone in the pack was waiting for.

The L/n children’s Days of Trials.

The morning had started wildly; their mom had helped clean the fur of all five of her “pups” while they watched decorations and food being prepared from afar. The village was quite small and had wooden huts for each family. Each one had a large leaf door that slid close for privacy; they had evolved a lot since their original days. Almost everyone in the pack was helping set up, except for the male Alpha.

That man just so happened to be their father; the exact reason why everyone was making such a big fuss over today. The Alpha’s children were going to be doing their trials to prove their worth to the pack. Some of the other wolves were excited and curious to see how the days would pan out; recently, there had been a spike of children who couldn’t complete the tasks assigned.

However, there were many members who didn’t quite care for the right of passages. Every time the children of their leaders undergo the trials, they pass with flying colors. Never has there been a “royal” family child that didn’t meet the standards that were put up.

Half of the workers around were in their human bodies to put up the decor while the other half were using their wolf’s to carry heavy things. It was a beautiful harmony that Y/n enjoyed on the Days of Trials; no one in the pack was looked down on for using their human skins. People would only use what was convenient.

The five teen’s mother changed down to her human form. Her children copied her actions.

Their mother had long, overgrown hair and lively eyes. She was the kindest mother that the kids could ever dream of having. The wrinkles that surrounded her eyes not only showed age, but her strong, wise experience. She was absolutely perfect.

Mother sighed as she looked at each one of her kids in the eyes.

“I want all of you to know that no matter what happens, I am proud of you,” she smiled so sweetly. “You worked so hard to be here and no amount of trials can take that away.”

Just as she said that, someone called for her aid and she had to leave, but not before leaving a kiss on all five of her kid’s foreheads.

Soon, the siblings were left alone.

“I-I don’t know if I can do this,” Fen spoke while trying to even out his erratic breaths. “It just feels so wrong to lie like this.”

Ayano rubbed Fen’s back to try and calm him. Then, Binu spoke up.

“I hate to agree with him, but he’s kinda right. Mom’s worried about our safety while we’re here with a secure plan? It feels sick to let her be so scared.”

Shong crossed his arms with a glare. “Don’t be dumb, guys. Our plan makes it so we all come out alive. If anything, we’re doing her a favor.”

They’re tall brother spoke some truths. The siblings had devised a scheme a long time ago to ensure that each member completed their tasks efficiently and met the bare minimums.

They’re first task would be to go out and hunt a total of three animals before the sun rose to the center of the sky, signaling noon. Y/n and Binu were the best hunter’s of the family; while Y/n took hiding in the shadows easy, Binu was fast enough to outrun any animal. The two would use their skills to help the other’s catch their prey and make it back before their time ended.

Then, their next task would be working as a group to capture something that belonged to an opposite group (sort of like capture the flag). It was meant to see if the group could work together nicely and form a strategy. Luckily for them, Shong was very smart and him with the combination of Ayano would be able to easily make up a plan for any situation.

Lastly, the five siblings would have to fight head on with each other and gain a total of two wins. They weren’t aware of the line up, but the siblings knew that no matter who went up against who, they would stick to the plan.

If they didn’t, then members of their family could be gone forever.

___

“Ahh, I see,” Mushi said once the girl took a pause in her story to drink her tea, “Your plan didn’t work, then?”

Y/n shook her head softly and spoke quietly. “No, no. It did work. We made it past the first two trials so quickly, we almost broke a record.” A frown slowly set upon her face. “It was just at the third trial that things didn’t go as smoothly...”

___

“I think a congratulations is in order!” Ayano yelled as she held her wooden cup up into the air.

Y/n let out a laugh and grabbed her sister’s arm. “We haven’t even finished everything yet. The last Test is tomorrow, so maybe you should get some sleep.”

Her siblings were, to say the least, drunk.

One of them (at this point, Y/n couldn’t remember who) had stolen some liquor and brought it to the brothers and sisters. They all had a couple drinks, but Y/n and Fen seemed to be the only ones smart enough to remember what tomorrow was.

They had finished the first day of the Trials; they had assumed that it would be the hardest due to the randomness of it, but it had seemed fairly easy.

Many say that the Days of Trials were never meant to be hard, they just weeded out the absolute weakest of a bunch. Y/n wasn’t entirely sure how other’s had failed the tasks, but she didn’t like to think much of it.

There were rumors of what had happened to the werewolves that didn’t pass. Some say that they were forced to live in solitude for the rest of their lives... others say that the pack’s fighters chase them down for fun.

It was a little alarming that not even she, daughter of a family who is ranked so high, knew what happened to those poor wolves.

Ayano clumsily transformed into her wolf skin and whined softly. Y/n sighed before looking at Fen.

“You can take care of the other boys, right?”

He gave her a small salute. “Yup, I got it.”

She was about to help her sister out before Fen began to talk again. Y/n turned around to see Binu on the floor, but Shong was no where to be seen.

“Uhh... you wouldn’t happen to know where Shong is, Y/n?”

The girl groaned in exasperation and dropped her sister onto the floor.

Just as the brother and sister were about to leave their hut to search for him, the man in question pushed his way passed the hanging door and paused when he met their stare.

“Dude, we were about to go look for you.” Fen groaned out, then went to the passed out Binu on the floor. “Help me bring him to our room.”

And with that, the two semi-sober siblings completely ignored Shong’s time of leave, despite knowing that no one else in their pack was awake that late into the night.

The next afternoon, the five of them rushed to a big, open center where the rest of the pack was surrounding. Almost everyone was in their wolf skins, so they copied the actions of their fellow members. It was there that the children learned of the order that they were fighting in.

There would be ten matches: each teen going against each of their siblings. A battle would be won once the victor gets their opponent outside of the circle. This trial was supposed to be the easiest for the five brothers and sisters. Emphasis on supposed.

Their fights went semi-smoothly.

At first, it was hard for the wolves to pretend to fight. They attacked each other like it was their dying wish, but in reality it was all a part of their plan.

Just two wins each, that’s all they needed.

By the time seven matches finished, Binu had already received his two wins; the rest of his fights ended with him losing dramatically as if he were in a play. Shong also had his two wins, but he still had to fight two more rounds and give his opponents the victory.

The eighth battle was between Shong and Fen.

Fen only had one win under his belt, which meant that Shong would need to lose. Y/n knew what her tall brother’s tactic was when he need to lose the fight; he would put on a huge show to demonstrate his strength, then would pretend to make a misstep that costs him the win. It was extremely entertaining for the crowd.

The siblings waited on the outskirts of the circle with the rest of the pack. The wolves around them were howling and barking in excitement. It was going to be such an amazing fight; Fen was seen as a weak asset and it seemed like Shong was going to completely destroy him.

The two sisters shared a look that said exactly what they were both thinking: if only the pack knew what was really going to happen.

And with that, the teen’s father let out a bellowing howl; the signal for the battle to begin.

Shong began his usual wolf dance. He skirted around each of Fen’s attacks and landed soft, teasing blows to his brother’s hide. He would only let Fen hit or bite him every once in a while, his only goal being to feed the crowd’s desire for a difficult fight.

‘Okay, this is it.’ Y/n thought to herself, ‘Right about now, Shong should let Fen win.’

Just as the thought crossed her mind, her tall brother stopped his antics. It was a bit too sudden and the crowed around them let out a confused noise. It seemed as though Shong was... looking at someone.

The girl followed his gaze all the way until it landed on their father. From her position, she couldn’t quite see the silent conversation they were having, but it seemed important.

It was then that Fen struck.

He pounced on his brother and shoved him straight out of the circle.

It was silent for a moment, but eventually the noise flew up and cheered for the weaker sibling. It was a true display of power, even of the two hadn’t planned it.

The look on Shong’s face was indescribable. It was a mixture between sad, angry, happy, and... something else. It was like every contradicting emotion was running through the wolf’s system.

‘Why is he acting like that? This loss isn’t any different from the other ones.’

___

“I should’ve seen what was coming next,” Y/n spoke. “With the way he was acting... I just never expected him to be the one that broke all of us apart.”

___

It was the middle of the ninth match.

Shong was up again, for the final time, but was against Ayano.

Now, their sister wasn’t a force to be reckoned with. There were multiple times that she had fought one of the pack members for bullying a sibling (mainly Fen or Y/n). She wasn’t the strongest or the smartest or the fastest, but she made up for her weaknesses with her quick thinking. Her mind connected dots faster than all of her siblings combined and it’s what made her standout. Ayano’s passion and fast brain made her a threat to some of the strategists that lead beside their father.

The duo’s red eyes glared at each other, circling the edges of the ring while they waited for the other to pounce. In this round, Ayano would receive her final win from her brother and complete her trial.

But why was that look still molded into Shong’s face? He had death in his eyes instead of the playfulness that should’ve existed there. Something’s not right.

Y/n desperately wanted to warn her sister, but if she mentioned anything about their plan, then they would all be banished for treason. It was best to just let it all play out.

Maybe their brother just got really good at acting.

Shong then jumped at Ayano, but the girl dodged it with milliseconds to spare. The brother almost slid out of the circle with the velocity of his jump, but slowed down in time. They both growled at each other.

The same actions repeated itself for the next couple of minutes; one would jump and the other would dodge. It really seemed like they were trying to kill the other, even with Y/n knowing who was supposed to win. It was terrifying.

The brother and sister looked as though they were evenly matched. They predicted the other’s movements like it was their own; they danced as if they had practiced this for hours.

However, the two weren’t the same. Shong was strong and had a everlasting stamina. Ayano didn’t.

The entire crowd could see that Ayano was growing tired. Her movements were turning sluggish and it was taking her longer and longer to dodge any attacks.

Why isn’t Shong letting her win yet?

By now, Shong should’ve done his “misstep” and lost, but he seemed so persistent on his jumps.

Then, as some twisted, sick peice of fate, their brother pounced and Ayano was too exhausted to move out of the way. She let him drag her out of the ring, her body falling limp.

Shong had one, which meant he got three wins; effectively stealing it from Ayano.

That meant that in the last round of Y/n vs Ayano, one sister would be met with the doom of banishment for the rest of their lives.

___

“And so we fought. I let her win. End of story.”

Y/n set down her empty tea cup and looked at the two men in front of her. They were so invested in her story that they had forgotten about their own drinks. Steam and heat no longer rose from the small cups, it instead being a cold, lifeless collection of flavored water.

“Is that- Is she the reason you got hurt?” Lee asked, his voice hoarse from not speaking for a while.

“Uhh, yeah.” She wrung her hands. “Its a rule in my pack: when someone’s banished, they have to have something like that visible on them, so they can never come back. It was only a coincidence that my sister was the one that gave it to me.”

“I am so sorry you had to go through that, Y/n,” Mushi whispered with a frown set on his face. The girl shrugged her shoulders in response.

“I mean, it’s better that it was me and not her. Her navigation skills are subpar, so she would’ve been so lost out here,” she forced a laugh.

Mushi just his head in disbelief while Lee stared at the ground, lost in thought. It made her wonder what was going on in that head of his.

Y/n really hoped that she had made the right decision by telling them the truth. It’s not like anyone would believe these two random travelers if they ever mentioned it. But still, the thought of them telling a town and having her pack torn apart made her shudder.

Lee stood up suddenly.

It surprised the two other people, but they quickly regained their focus as the teen began to speak.

“I think you should stay with us, like for the long run,” he said confidently. “You could help us out a lot, and I think that we could help you.”

“Okay!” She stood up excitedly as well. This was the exact thing that she had been hoping for.

“And, of course, Lee,” Mushi interrupted, “shouldn’t that mean that we tell her the truth about us as well?”

Y/n was almost certain that whatever secret they had couldn’t be as bad as hiding being a werewolf.

The boy puffed out his chest and nodded his head.

“My real name is Prince Zuko and this is my Uncle, General Iroh. We are both from the fire nation.”

Silence.

There were many things running through the girl’s head, but the main one being Oh, so that’s why Mushi yelled out Zuko yesterday!

It took her a moment, but eventually she found something to say.

“You’re a prince? Should I bow or something?”

Le- or- Zuko deflated slightly at her words.

“Is that really all that you have to say?”

Iroh let out a hearty laugh at his nephew’s reaction. He quickly picked up their tea pot and cups while the two teens talked.

“And that ‘fire nation’ stuff, does that have to do with that magic thing you did yesterday?” The girl asked with a tilt of her head. This cause him to shrink even more.

“Y-you mean my bending?”

“Bending? What is tha-”

The girl paused as her ears caught a soft thumping sound; almost identical to the one that awoke her that morning.

Those people must be coming back.

She quickly warned the duo and helped them pack up their things. Just as the noise grew closer and closer, the three of them jumped on their ostrich-horses (in the same positions as they had the day before) and rode out before the group of men could find them again.

Iroh laughed from his horse beside them. “Maybe I should’ve stayed, it was nice to see old friends.”

“Too bad you don’t have any old friends that don’t want to attack you.” Zuko groaned front his seat in front of Y/n.

The three of them were riding pretty fast, so Y/n had her arms gripped around the boy’s torso. He had stiffened at first, but slowly relaxed at her touch.

“Hmm... Old friends that don’t want to attack me...”

___

thanks for sticking w me guys <3

even if you skipped past the memories like i know some do, i appreciate you reading this :)

anyways might actually have some cutesy stuff next chapter so wait till next week to read it <33

Previous | Chapter 4 | Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @bucky-blogs @hopefuloperaangelnerd @simplyfandomish @oddlypointlessescapes @lozzybowe ((bolded couldn’t be tagged))

#zuko #zuko x reader #atla

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hellyeahtrickster · 3 years

Text

It occurs to me that I have friends here that I don't have contact with in other spheres, so ... life update: my mother passed away unexpectedly last Friday. I'm doing as well as one would expect. Been going through her things as both a walk down memory lane and a goodbye. I keep coming across things she never got around to using, and it hits hard that now, she'll never have the chance. And I can't stop thinking of the stories we watched together that now she won't know the ending to, or shows I wanted to try with her. And then there's all the things we used to do together on the regular -- all the places I can never go with her to again. And all the places we wanted to go to "someday", but now she never will.

We were two weeks out from our second COVID shots, and 4 weeks from being totally vaccinated. We were finally going to get back to EPCOT, to see the Flower and Garden show. Finally going to get back to the Florida Mall. Going out to lunch. That I won't be doing this things with her anymore ... it's unfathomable. I can't wrap my head around it.

Thanks, anti-mask / anti-vaccine Covidiots, for prolonging the presence of this pandemic -- basically stealing the last year of my mother's life. She was anxious to see her elderly mother again, because we don't know how long *she* has left ... and now she never go to see her mother again. I knew losing my mom would happen someday, but my mother was relatively young yet, so I thought it would be a while ....

It doesn't help that she died after the second night on a new bed. See, she slept on her side all the time, what with the couch being narrow, but with a twin mattress, the bed was much wider. She snored a lot -- I highly suspect she had sleep apnea. When I found her the next morning, she was on her BACK. The doctor agreed that her cardiac arrest could have been caused by sleep apnea. In trying to make my mom more comfortable .... Yeah, I know, it's not my fault, but I cannot shake that thought away, that she's not here anymore because we tried to do something nice for her. How cruel the humour of the universe can be.

(I'd put the rest of this behind a cut, but I don't see that option anymore? Sorry!!)

And it REALLY doesn't help that, not only have I lost the person I was closest to, but now I am stuck alone with the person I least want to be with: my dad. I'm pretty liberal, and he's pretty conservative. We fight a LOT. We haven't really since mom died (things got a little tense here and there, but not like we usually are) ... but I know it won't last. It can't -- not when he believes BLM are terrorists, or that gays have an agenda. And now he keeps wanting to do things with me, like watch my shows, and a petulant part of me is like, no, this is mom's territory -- stay out. I don't want to do anything with him. (Especially since I know he'll start ranting once the shows start talking about racism and homophobia.)

My parents always had a volatile relationship. Mom didn't know you could get pregnant the first time, and when she found out she was pregnant, her Catholic family bullied her into marrying him.* And he cheated on her at LEAST once (with a girl who was only a few years older than me at the time -- I was 15, she was 19, he was 33). My mother was far from perfect, so I don't blame all the marital problems on him. But my point is they were married "in name only" for about the last 25 years, so it's ... offensive to me now that he would dare to act bereaved.

I know he can be hella manipulative, make himself seem generous so as to be loved, and then turn on you like a viper, getting irrationally angry. I can't drive, we live in a very rural area with no public trans, there are no friends or fam less than an hour away, I've had next to no job for the last 17 years, I barely feel like a functional human being (am coming to seriously suspect I have ADHD and Dyscalculia; I have diabetes and suspect have PCOS and a thyroid problem; all these things having strong interconnections; and I have no insurance, nor do I qualify for aid, thanks to living in Florida), and I feel utterly trapped. There's a reason Rapunzel is my fave princess. I've had bad experiences with cabs, so using Uber / Lyft kind of terrifies me. Plus, he'd want to know where I'm going, and likely either insist on coming too, or insist I can't go, because his house, his money, his rules. The ONLY time each year I get away is when I go to Dragon Con (and I'm worried he might forbid that in the future -- he has once before).

And then there's the problem of ... he has no one. As much as I can't stand him, he lost his job because of COVID, he's lost his wife, he has no real friends (total homebody), and like it or not, he has supported me financially for so long. Even if someone else were to take me in, or I can get a job and save to leave ... how can I leave him (a person with severe rheumatoid arthritis / in not-great health)? I owe him too damn much, and I feel like it would be entirely callous of me. Yes, I realise that that's the abuse talking, but ... it's also true?

Anyway, I feel like I'm on Sliders, and keep stepping into progressively worse timelines.

* Let me mention that I have long suspected my mother is -- was -- on the autism spectrum, but when I mentioned it to one of her sisters, the sister seemed skeptical, saying that if anything, mom had a penchant for reading out loud, so they thought maybe she had a reading disability, and took her to a specialist, but "that's it". (Mom was in "remedial" classes through high school, so it doesn't sound like they did enough -- and maybe couldn't because the science just wasn't there.) I explained that mom frequently seemed to have trouble grasping concepts, especially humour. Like when a radio ad featured someone reciting a love-letter to a tomato, she was all, "That's stupid -- tomatoes can't read!" Try as I might, I could not get her to understand that the love letter was a playful way to tell US about what makes the tomato so good.)

Anyway, when I talked to my grandmother recently, she said that my mom "always had a special way of looking at things," and that she guessed mom was "what do they call it -- neuro-something? 'Aspie'? High-functioning, but still." And I told my cousin about it, and he said, "Wait, I thought it was common knowledge in our family that your mom was autistic?" (Note: we have other, officially diagnosed family members who are on different areas of the spectrum.) People always commented when I was growing up that it was like my mom's role and mine was reversed -- like I was the parent, and she was the child.

But to think my family had *recognised* that something was up, and left me, a child, to deal with it on my own?? To think they *pressured* someone who was "special" into having a child?

I know my mom loved me, but my whole life, she said she wished I'd never been born, and so she'd never have married my dad -- I know both can be true, that she loved me but wished she'd never had me (she'd have never known what she was missing). She only survived her marriage because I was there; I've always felt she'd have had a better life if she hadn't married him. When she tried to leave him, her mother would not take her in, because divorce was against her mother's Catholic beliefs (never mind that my uncle divorced twice)

I loved my mother, but were fought a lot, and she frequently exasperated me as we struggled to communicate. She frequently left words out, but did not believe that she did; when we met her last PCP the first time, he looked at me and said, "Is she always like this, or is she having a stroke?" And she would always angrily proclaim that I wasn't listening, when most of the time, it's that I couldn't get her to understand that she was working from a misconception or misunderstanding in the first place, because she would focus on ONE THING, to the exclusion of all else.

An example of an exchange (copied from a letter I wrote to a friend): We got into a weird argument yesterday. She had asked me for pain reliever, a glass of tap water (you're supposed to drink a full glass of water with the pills), and a "cold water" from the fridge (it's too cold to drink it all at once, but we both prefer ice water in general). Later, I was picking stuff up from her table-tray, including a bottle of pain reliever, and put a bunch of stuff away. When I passed by again, she asked for more cold water. I happened to look as see that she had the tap water glass still full, even though she had asked tor it half an hour before. I asked if I needed to bring the pain pill bottle back, because she hadn't drunk the tap water yet -- had I taken the pill bottle too soon, or had she forgotten to drink the water? She was all, "no, I said I need COLD water!" I said I knew that, and I would bring it; I was just asking of she had taken her pills already, or if I needed to bring the pill bottle back too. Her (again): "I said I need COLD WATER!" Me: "I know, and I will bring that -- I just want to know why you haven't drunk the tap water yet? Did you take your pills?" Her: "No, I'll take them at bed!" Me: "So I should bring back the pill bottle? Did I put it away too early?" Her: "YOU DON'T LISTEN! I SAID I NEED COLD WATER!" Me: "And I said I will bring that -- I'm just asking if you also need your pain pills?" Her: "You already took the bottle!! Did you forget that already?"

And then I finally spotted the white pain pills on the napkin under the tap-water glass, so I knew that no, I didn't need to bring it. But it's a frequent struggle to figure out how to phrase questions so I get the answer I need -- nearly every time, I get her screaming at me that I don't listen.

She loved me, but she was never mothering. She hated to be touched, so never hugged me; I was pretty touch-starved. I learned to read because she was a very slow reader when reading me stories; I got impatient and learned to do it for myself. She couldn't help me with my homework. She resented having to take me to school recitals and science fairs. She wasn't someone I could get advice from. I admit I was often envious of characters who had physically-loving, compassionate, wise mother-figures (who weren't so binary about morality -- and so weren't always screaming that this or that character should die, no matter how small the transgression).

But I wish she were still here to frustrate me -- that's so much better than not having her at all. And I wish I had been better at keeping my temper.

She was an atheist, and firm in that belief. Maybe she's right, or maybe her firm belief is affecting me, because I would dream frequently about others I have loved and lost, and swear I feel them, but with her ... nothing. Just a gaping hole in the fabric of my waking life, threatening to suck all the light and hope into it.

#mine #rant #personal #tw: death #cw: death #the death of my mom #my mom

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angelruel · 4 years

Text

vintage

summary: the reader gets into an accident which causes her to lose her memory. as Ruel begins to rebuild their relationship and recall the good memories between them, some bad ones are restored as well and might threaten their future.

masterlist part 2

Word Count: 3.6 k

Thoughts of worse case scenarios and disasters clouded his mind. After getting that unforeseen phone call, there was nothing left to do except book the earliest flight and rush his way to her.

Ruel wasn’t given too many details. All he was told was that his girlfriend had a drunk Uber driver, the crash was big, and her head was hurt badly. He’d never felt more helpless in his life before. And the 16-hour flight was beginning to feel like it would never end. He never slept through flights but he also never sat up staring at the home screen of the airplane monitors, either. There was no listening to music or audiobooks when his mind provided enough loud thoughts to last a lifetime. Ruel’s head felt heavy. He kept replaying their last conversation over and over again. Guilt flooded any positive bridges he tried to aid his confidence with some hope that maybe she would be okay at the end of all this. But even if her life wasn’t ending, would she even want him to be apart of it anymore?

The piercing sounds of his mental tyranny were silenced once he heard the pilot’s announcement of a successful landing. Ruel couldn’t be bothered with the idea of getting a hotel room or even trying to see what clothes he packed in the small bag he made in his rush to the airport. He knew there was a chance that he might not be able to see her at all since members outside of the family were usually prohibited from visiting ICU patients, but none of that mattered. He just needed to know what was going on. He had tried to stay in close contact with her parents and brother during his travels but between the timezones and lack of signal on the plane, he was only informed of her need for an emergency brain surgery that night. It was almost 8 am when he arrived so he assumed that she would be asleep if she was even out of the procedure by then.

He was immediately met with Y/N’s younger brother in the lobby of the hospital. Ruel knew something was off by how quiet her brother was being in the elevator. When he saw him click one of the highest buttons on the navigation panel, he immediately questioned what the letters “SC” stood for. His suspicions were gone as soon as they made it to the floor and he read the sign ahead of him which said “Special Cases Unit.”

Her mother was more than ecstatic to see him and embraced him with a huge hug when she caught view of the two boys.

“I’m so glad you’re here…...I’m so sorry, I don’t even know what happened.” She was struggling to speak in between sobs. Ruel rubbed her back while his heart broke right along with hers. She finally pulled back to look up into his swollen eyes.

“Is she...okay?” His thick accent was amplified and Adam's apple quivered as he tried to choke back his own cries. Her mom fell back into her seat as if her body couldn’t take anymore and Y/N’s father stepped in to answer Ruel’s question.

“She’s okay, physically. She woke up about two hours after the procedure. But she’s not...there all of the way.” The concerned look in Ruel’s eyes turned into confusion and it felt as though all of the worse case scenarios that he imagined were becoming a reality.

“What-what does any of this mean? Did the brain surgery not go well? What’s wrong with her?”

“She doesn’t know who we are.”

His world seemed as if it were crashing down around him. His vision grew cloudy as it did when he initially got the phone call with the news of the crash, but he tried to pay as close enough attention to what was being told to him so that he could do whatever needed to be done. Ruel always feared losing the ones he loved, but he never imagined any of them being taken away from him in this manner. This felt all so...torturous. As if there was a higher being up above pulling the strings of coincidence and having a huge laugh at his expense.

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

Everything appeared to be light when he walked into the recovery room. Like the entire room was covered in a comforting aura, not too different from the way Y/N had of making someone feel with her presence before the accident.

Her bedding was covered with her favorite blue quilt, her feet were exposed but covered in adorable fuzzy sheep socks. Ruel assumed she was sleeping by the silence in the room. He grabbed one of the couch chairs, scooted it closer towards her bedside, and decided to take a nap. Her mother had already extended an invitation for him to spend as much time as he wanted in there since they would have a lot to talk about and she could see the exhaustion worn out on his face from the sudden travels taken.

Y/N’s head was turned to the other side of the room, but he could see that it was wrapped in fresh gauze from the procedure. He didn’t want to get in her face and startle her if she woke up since she didn’t know who he was. However, Ruel found himself restless as he awaited the moment he would get to “meet” his girlfriend. Another part of him was thanking fate for granting him a chance to relive their relationship without regrets. He thought about what he would do differently. He thought about whether or not she would even want to be with him in the first place. She did before, and he was still the same person, so nothing should have changed. Hopefully it didn’t.

The back and forth in his head was hushed with the soft coo of her voice. He hadn’t even noticed that she had turned around to look at him.

“Hi,” she repeated with the same soft smile she had given him the first time they’d met. It was clear that she had no idea who he was. And by the rosy tint in her cheeks, she was still very much infatuated with him.

“...hi.” He tried to respond in an eager tone, but not too eager, as he didn’t want to freak her out or come on too strong. He didn’t want to seem like a creepy dude who waited at her bedside to speak with her, but that was exactly what he was.

She started to sit up in her bed and Ruel stood in concern with his arms out toward her.

“I don’t know if you should be doing that yet, you just had some major procedures.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” She gave him a hesitant look. She was obviously freaked out by the stranger sitting in front of her. The girl who was once so comfortable around him was now slowly backing away from him in small scoots as much as she could in the tiny hospital bed she laid in.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to scare you.” He was met with another blank stare from her.

“Just wanna make sure you’re comfortable.” Ruel smiled at her which granted him a smile back.

When she smiled back at him, she went to push up her glasses that were currently not on her face. Something she only did when she was nervous.

“Excuse my forwardness, but if you don’t mind, who exactly are you?”

Very forward.

The question didn’t hurt Ruel half as much as he anticipated it to. In reality, he was just grateful to be sat down talking with her at all. He could almost call it a miracle that she was still here with him but he refused to think how much worse her conditions could have been.

Instead, he simply smiled and replied, “I’m Ruel.”

“Ruel, Ruel. That’s a cool name. I’m Y/N.”

His smile grew bigger. He didn’t expect her to remember anything, let alone her own name. “Yeah, I know.”

“Oh, yeah. That makes sense,” she began to look down and play with the ring on her hand before looking up at him again with hopeful eyes.

“So how do we know each other, Ruel?”

Ruel hesitated to respond. How weird would it be to say ‘I am your boyfriend,’ to someone who you just met two minutes ago? Well, more like met you two minutes ago. She had two minutes of memories with him and he had two years of memories with her. He wasn’t some random guy taking advantage of her memory loss who was posing as her boyfriend to get close to her. Her family wouldn’t have let him get through to the room if that was the case. It’s not like she knew who they were, either.

“We were friends.”

“Friends, huh? Well okay. That’s cool. We must’ve been best friends since you’re up here to visit me this early in the morning.”

“Yeah, we were. I uh, actually got you that ring you’re wearing there,” he pointed to her left hand which sported the blue promise ring he gave her after some anniversary that he couldn’t even remember. He was shocked that she had it on.

“So you lied then, huh” Ruel’s expression turned to confusion and she erupted into laughter. “You didn’t tell me we were married, Ruel.” She pushed her imaginary glasses back again and tried to pull down the right sleeve of her sweater. This tone she had about her, he recognized it. She was flirting with him.

And then he laughed with her. Still a nervous laugh, but a laugh nonetheless.

“Hah, yeah. See the thing is, not married but we were together.”

“Together? Like, together together?”

He could only nod in response. What was he to say to her in this situation? Her reaction to this was simply going to determine the course of their relationship from there forward.

“Like boyfriend and girlfriend? Is that so?” She joked in a matter-of-factly tone.

That didn’t sound like a positive tone.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No, not at all. It’s just unbelievable.” Her face read pure disbelief.

Was she being serious? Had she no idea how crazy he was about her? Of course, she didn’t. In the early stages of their relationship, Y/N struggled with insecurities and the need for reassurance that Ruel was actually into her. He gave her all of the comfort she needed and he was more than willing to do it again. It was weird to think that she was there but not there.

“Okay well I need some proof here, Ruel.”

“Proof?”

“You can’t just hop in and say you’re my boyfriend and then not have anything to back it up on. For all I know, you could be some deranged stranger who snuck into my room and is taking advantage of my memory loss.” Huh, maybe it wasn’t as far fetched as he thought.

She ended that last statement with a proud smile which made him chuckle softly. Her expression shifted from her cheeky grin into a perplexed smirk as she hesitated to continue the conversation. He sat back down and gave her the signal to go ahead.

“Do you have any pictures of us?”

“Sure, here’s one right now,” he moved with a nervous quickness as he patted down his pants to fish for his phone out of a pocket. He motioned it towards her to grab.

It was his lockscreen. The two of them, in a room of some sort. Maybe a bedroom? He was sitting in an office chair and she sat on his lap. They were laughing at each other or something. His large hand cupped the side of her face while the other wrapped firmly around her waist. She finally looked up from the screen to take another look at him for an explanation. He was studying her intently.

“Yeah, so uh this was basically the last time you came to visit me at home. About two weeks ago. My sister took the picture. It’s one of my favorites at the moment.”

Y/N took another look at the phone screen before dropping her head low. Her eyes began to build up willowy clouds of tears and she let out a soft cry. Ruel bent his head down to meet her eyes with concern. Confusion erupted and he looked confused as to what had just happened.

“What’s wrong? Do you need me to get a nurse? What’s going on?”

Y/N sniffled and wiped her nose with the fuzzy blanket that covered her legs. When she lifted her head to meet his eyes, hers were red and puffy. Ruel stared at her with hurt in his own eyes. It looked as if he just wanted to take away any pain that she was feeling.

“I don’t remember any of it.”

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

Y/N’s eyelashes fluttered open and her sleepy face morphed into a stern mug. The constant beeping from her monitors went from a soothing lullaby to an annoying alarm. She turned her head slightly to see the long haired boy staring back at her hopelessly. The fading lights from the tv in the corner of her ceiling illuminated his face. How long had she been asleep?

“you’re still here,” her voice hummed out.

He let out a low chuckle, “I am.” A clear silence hung above them. Not awkward this time, just still.

“I can leave if you want. I mean, if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“-no, no. You should stay. I like the company.”

He smiled. “Well good. Because I didn’t really plan on leaving anyways.” The silence was cut by mutual laughter.

“It’s just a little weird, though.”

Ruel tilted his head in curiosity, “What’s weird?”

“Oh, you know. Spending time with a girl who doesn’t know who you are,” her face grew into a cold smile again. She may not have remembered much but she never lost her sarcasm.

“Or anything about herself,” she added and looked down again.

“I didn’t have any other places to go in mind when I bought my plane ticket.”

“You flew out here?” He nodded. “Oh wait, you said in the picture that I came to visit you ‘at home.’ Where’s home for you?”

“Sydney, Australia. That’s where I live.”

“Ohhhhh. So that’s where the accent came from. Okay. Cool, cool.” After saying that, her lips puckered into a pout. She seemed weirdly accepting of everything. Her cute reactions to learning things about him was so entertaining to him.

“Wait, how did I end up with a boyfriend from Australia?” Her fascination in him was adorable. It was also refreshing to have this new sense of discovery between the two of them.

Ruel’s exhaustion all but faded away once he got carried away with explaining the entire story of how they met to Y/N. He answered every question that she had without hesitation. He told her everything he could think of and she listened with open ears. He talked to her until the exhaustion hit and he fell asleep mid sentence. She just laid there and watched him in admiration. He had clearly used every ounce of energy left to pay her attention and his restful state was quite angelic. His arms were crossed and he sat up in the lounge seat adjacent to the bed. His head laid to the side, lips pierced slightly opened where little snores escaped. Y/N was crushing hard.

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

“Guess what I did today,” she suggested eagerly as she snatched a green bear from the bag sitting in Ruel’s lap across from her and proceeded to chew the head off.

“What’d you do?” He gave her a soft smile.

Ruel enjoyed the back and forth that they were able to enjoy. Things were starting to feel normal. In a weird, very not normal way.

“I remembered my parents.”

Ruel felt himself slightly choke on the few gummy bears he had just stuffed into his mouth. He wasn’t expecting that. It had only been two days.

“What did you remember?” He managed to get out between muffled chews. He tried to hide his disbelief. It shouldn’t have come as much of a shock to him, though. Y/N was always extra resilient in difficult times.

“As weird as it is, I remembered the most random memory of them. We were all gathered in the kitchen to help my brother. Jason, no. His name is John I think. He was sick though. And we were all trying to make him take his medicine. And then, all of a sudden, I grabbed the little cup and drank the cough syrup for him. And he got all jealous that I had drank his medicine. Then they both-both of my parents-also drank a little cup full of the medicine. He drank it so fast,” she laughed and used her hands to narrate the story.

“We never had a problem with the medicine again.” Y/N turned her head back to him and folded her hands in her lap.

Ruel stood up and began pacing the room. He was excited. “That’s good. That’s so good. I wish I would’ve been here to witness it. I bet your mom cried.” She laughed in response and confirmed his assumption.

“Well, even stalkers need rest sometimes,” she joked in reference to the new nickname she’d labeled Ruel as a stalker. That was all he did after all: stare at her and break for sleep in the hotel down the street.

Ruel floated across the room and towards her bed. He pressed his hands against the rails at the end of it. “I wonder what else you could remember if we triggered it. Do you remember what happened right before you got the memory?”

“Not really. We were just talking at it all came to me. I remembered their names and everything. It felt nice.” She nonchalantly continued to steal the gummy bears from his bag that he’d left in her lap.

Ruel looked up as if he was brainstorming up a plan to jog some more memories.

“So we just need to talk more. Maybe if I bring you some items to help bring some stuff back.”

“Items?”

“Yeah, a few things I have from you. You get kind of...emotionally attached to material things. I’ve grown quite a collection over the time we’ve spent.”

“Ooh, maybe if you could bring me a few pictures to look at. That might help.” She watched him pace around the room. It felt as if they were a team working together to solve a mystery. Or find hidden treasure. The treasure in this case were her memories. They seemed so valuable and delicate since she didn’t have them anymore.

“I have to go home in a few hours. I can bring some things when I come back.”

She looked up at him as if he’d just killed her best friend. “You’re leaving?”

“Only for a while, honey. I just have to get some things in line. I kind of left without any notice. But I plan on taking more time off to spend with you.”

“Is um...Nate gonna be okay with the amount of time you took off? That’s his name, right?”

“Hah, yeah. It’s Nate. And everyone is very understanding of the circumstances. They all just want to see you get better.” He looked up at her with optimism as he sat back down. Anytime she would bring up the outside world or his very real responsibilities, he would shut her down. Ruel was dead set on focusing just on Y/N and what she needed at all times. It made her wonder about their relationship sometimes. Made her wonder if she gave him half as much love as he gave her. Trying to somehow figure out what she did to deserve such kind people to take care of her.

“Well, tell them that I appreciate it.”

He reached out to place his hand on top of hers. His fingertips graced on top of the IV coming out of her hand. His were much larger than hers. It was kind of funny to look at. “Will do,” he remarked with a smile.

“So you don’t think there will be any consequences to the sudden break you’re taking in your career? Like, won’t the fans be disappointed?” He had told her a little about his life, but not in too much detail. All she knew was that he was a singer and he was pretty popular among teenage white girls. When he showed her some of his music online, she was shocked by the amount of success he’d acquired over such a short time period. Her favorites were “Younger” and “Don’t Cry” but she really enjoyed all of it. He loved watching her listen to his music for the first time. Well, the second first time.

He took her hand in a firm grip. “They’ll all understand. They love you almost as much as I do.” She smiled back at him. The connection was obviously still there. He always told her he loved her in middle of conversations or right before he would leave, but she never said it back. Ruel told her he understood. He understood that she didn’t want to say anything she didn’t mean. But he also explained to her that even though her feelings had gone away, his never did.

“Yeah well hopefully you can last this plane ride without leaking any other cover art to them,” she turned her head at him in a joking manner.

He laughed, “Yeah hopefully.” Ruel looked back up at her. He couldn’t believe it.

“Wait, what?” The last time Ruel took the long flight from visiting Y/N, he’d been so disoriented from lack of sleep that he accidentally posted a picture of the new cover art for an unreleased song on his story instead of sending it to a friend. He never mentioned that to her.

She looked confused. “What?”

“Y/N, you remember that? You just remembered that. The thing about the picture. How’d you remember that?”

Her smile revealed her teeth this time. “Huh, I don’t know. I guess I just did.”

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