#and that his dad raising them in one narrow path his entire life is the root of a lot of his internal suffering

[amanda-glassen]

The Wonder Years: Part 12

While getting ready for her first school dance, twelve-year-old Olivia starts a path toward discovering who she is truly meant to be. Parts 1-11 can be found here

Just as Olivia had hoped, Mrs. Cabot was able to drive them to the pizza place. It was her favorite place to go with her mom and her uncle Kyle. She had spent some of the happiest moments of her childhood there－most recently, her 12th birthday and a pizza party with her basketball team. Thinking back on all the memories she had there with her mom made her feel like she had a knot in her throat, but she knew there was no turning back now.

“So, are we gonna kick this guy’s ass?” Elliot asked. Alex giggled, thinking he was bringing some levity to the situation, but Olivia knew her best friend was serious. “Either he’s your dad and we kick this guy’s ass for being out of your life for twelve years or if he’s not your dad we say we’re from To Catch A Predator and kick this guy’s ass for luring a kid. Just point him out and give me two minutes. That’s all the time I need.”

Olivia noticed a man who looked exactly like him sitting at a table for two. “You guys, he’s already here. Let’s go inside.”

Alex grabbed Elliot’s arm and pointed toward where Emerson was sitting. “Thirtysomething guy in the light blue Oxford. Have at him.”

“Hey, Champ!” Emerson called out from the table and waved for her to come over. “I got us a table.”

Olivia thought she was going to keep her cool, but the moment she heard him call her that nickname, she decided to run over to him and give him a hug. “Dad! You’re actually here.”

He tousled her hair, but Olivia didn’t mind. “Of course I’m here. I wouldn’t miss it for anything, but I see you brought some friends. Let’s get a bigger table.”

Olivia had hoped Alex and Elliot would sit at a different table, but when she saw that they had no intention of going anywhere, she was grateful that her dad suggested getting a bigger table.

They found a booth that could seat six and, although there was room for Olivia to sit on the same side as her girlfriend and her best friend, she wanted nothing more than to sit next to her dad. “Dad, this is my best friend Elliot,” Olivia said once they were all comfortably seated. “We’ve known each other since we were in kindergarten.”

“I’ve known Olivia longer than anyone who isn’t a member of her family,” Elliot said, narrowing his eyes at Emerson. “And not once did you try to call her or send her a birthday present or a Christmas present. Why are you trying to be in her life now?”

“Elliot!” Olivia wanted to sink down in the booth or even leave the restaurant entirely so she was relieved when she heard a slight chuckle from her dad.

“No, it’s okay,” her dad told her. “That’s a fair question and one you’re probably wanting an answer for as well.” If she were to be completely honest with him, she didn’t care why he wasn’t in her life in the past as long as he was in her life now. “When your mom first found out she was pregnant, she was in London with your great-grandma Maggie. I was the first person she called and she was crying because she was so scared, but I told her she had nothing to worry about. I was so happy, Olivia. I was gonna have a baby with the woman I love more than life itself. Sure, it was happening almost ten years earlier than we had planned, but we were gonna make it work. We were gonna get married after college. We talked on the phone every night that summer. I remember thinking everything had changed so fast. We went from goofing off and being kids that school year to talking about her pregnancy and making plans for me to fly to LA so we could tell her family together.”

“What happened?” Olivia asked. “My mom told me the story about how you two went from friends to boyfriend and girlfriend and she seemed happy when she was telling it. Why didn’t you two get married and raise me together? What happened?”

Olivia noticed him pressing ignore on a call that was coming through his phone. “Rebecca Barnsworth happened.”

“My mom’s best friend?” Olivia asked with a confused look on her face.

“Did you cheat on Olivia’s mom with her best friend?” Alex asked. 

“You kids are a little young for this conversation,” her dad told them. He was looking down at his phone at a text that had come through. 

“We’re not little kids,” Elliot said defensively.

“Yeah,” Alex added. “Besides, you’re the one who started this.”

“I would have never cheated on her,” her dad told them. “In fact, after it ended between the two of us, I was so devastated that I didn’t even start dating until a couple of years later.”

“So what does Becca have to do with this?” Elliot asked. “I’ve seen her a lot of times at Olivia’s place. She and Serena are best friends so I know she didn’t do anything to her.”

“I never liked Becca and she never liked me,” Emerson began. “In our own childish way, we both competed for Serena. First, we competed to be her best friend and the person she hung out with the most. Then everything changed for me and for Becca. She fell in love with Serena just as I did. Becca will always be that spoiled little rich girl from Bel-Air. Whatever Becca wants, Becca gets, except for Serena. Her family wouldn’t approve of her being with a girl, so she had to keep loving Serena from a distance and if she couldn’t have her then nobody could have her. The night that Serena and I…” she noticed her dad start to fidget, “...the night that we...I don’t feel comfortable saying this but the night that resulted in her being pregnant...something happened that got blown out of proportion that entire summer because Becca convinced her that I did something to her. But Serena was the woman I loved more than anything. I’d never hurt her. The entire thing was just a misunderstanding.”

“That’s bullshit!” Elliot slammed his hand on the table. “You don’t go twelve years without seeing your daughter because of a misunderstanding.”

Olivia looked over at the entrance to see Abbie and Serena walking in. Please don’t sit with us. Please don’t sit with us. “Uncle Emerson!” Abbie called out as she walked over to the table. “What are you doing here with Olivia and Alex and Elliot?”

Serena nearly gasped. “Didn’t you know? Your uncle Emerson is Olivia’s dad, so that makes you and Olivia cousins!” How would she know already? Olivia wanted to ask Serena. I didn’t even know until last night.

By the way they were dressed, Olivia knew they were on a date and she hoped they would quickly say hello and then leave to get their own table, but her hopes were dashed when Serena sat down next to Alex. 

“Aren’t you on a date?” Alex asked her and Olivia could sense that her girlfriend was just as frustrated with Serena as she was. 

“Yeah, we’re walking over to the movies after this,” Abbie responded. “My mom isn’t picking us up for another four hours.”

“...which means we have time,” Serena insisted. With no room left next to Serena, Abbie decided to take a seat next to Olivia and Emerson. “Besides, I have questions for Olivia. The first question is does Jamie have an Insta and the second question is what’s her last name so I can look her up?”

“Jamie,” Emerson teased her. “I think there’s another Serena in direct competition with you for her heart.”

“Oh, I don’t feel threatened by her,” Serena said as she scrolled through Instagram, looking for Jamie. “She’s－what－30? Her days of being pretty are almost at an end. When that happens, I’ll be 17 and Jamie will be mine.”

“And you’re okay with this?” Elliot asked Abbie.

“Considering the odds of Jamie falling in love with this Serena are a hundred billion to one, I’m not threatened in the slightest,” Abbie responded. 

Olivia noticed Emerson searching for something on his phone and she began to worry that he was getting annoyed with all of them. “I don’t think Serena’s days of being pretty are almost at an end. She’s always been beautiful and her beauty is so natural and effortless. My family always said she had this Old Hollywood charm to her. I’ll never forget the first time I saw her. Even with no makeup and her Juicy Couture tracksuit, she looked like she belonged in a magazine.”

“You’re trying to get back with Serena,” Elliot told him in an accusatory tone of voice. “Is that what this is all about? You’re still in love with Serena after all these years and you’re using Olivia as a way to break the ice. You figure you can get on Olivia’s good side first and then win Serena over. That’s not gonna happen.”

“I’m married,” Emerson responded. “I don’t have those feelings for her anymore and I haven’t for a very long time, but she and I will always be each other’s first love. You kids will understand this when you’re older, but you’ll never forget the first person you really fell in love with.” His words were lost on Olivia’s friends, but Olivia couldn’t stop smiling at the thought of her mom and dad once being so happy and in love with each other. “Sport, do you wanna see this video I have of your mom in college?”

She wanted to see the video more than she wanted her bat, maybe even more than she wanted the Mets to win the World Series. What her mom was like during that period of her life was a mystery to Olivia and she hoped the video would be one more piece of the puzzle. “Yeah,” she said nonchalantly. “Okay.”

Her dad pulled out a $100 bill from his wallet and handed it over to Abbie. “Why don’t you kids go order us some pizzas and sodas and anything else you want.” 

Alex and Elliot were hesitant to leave the booth so Olivia gave them a pleading look in hopes that they would leave with Abbie and Serena. “We’re gonna go order the pizzas,” Elliot told Emerson. “But we’ll be thirty feet away and I’ll be looking in this direction the entire time.”

“Your friends are something else,” he said to Olivia once they were alone at the table. He pushed play on a video and handed his phone over to Olivia.

On the video was her mom when she was twenty-one. Her hair was chin-length instead of long and flowing like it currently was and she had winged eyeliner and as opposed to the more natural look that she currently wore. Oh, 2008. 

“Someone just won a second term!” she heard a guy say on the video.

“Is that you?” Olivia asked. 

“Yeah. A group of us had a celebration for her that night after she was elected president of her sorority for a second time, but that morning it was just the two of us in her room. Believe it or not, but there was a time when smartphones were new. Your mom and I always recorded random videos of each other goofing off. I deleted them when we broke up, but I couldn’t get myself to delete this one.”

Within a few seconds, Olivia understood why. Her mom was sitting on her bed in her sorority house and the sight of her made tears pool in Olivia’s eyes. She had never seen her mom so happy and it warmed her heart to know that it was her dad that made her feel that way. “I’m so proud of you,” he told her mom in the video. “My girlfriend is only the second woman in her chapter’s 100-year history to be elected president twice. Our ten-year plan is all falling into place.”

“First, the presidency and then getting engaged next year,” her mom smiled. 

“And then grad school,” her dad continued. “I’ll go for my Masters in Finance and you’ll get your PhD. We’ll start our careers and have a huge wedding.”

“And then come the babies!” her mom said excitedly. “Our little Carmichael babies!”

“How many?” he asked playfully. “Three?”

Her mom pretended to contemplate it. “How about six?”

“Six? Shouldn’t we start now then?”

Olivia heard her mom giggle even if she was blushing the entire time. “Okay, one now and five after grad school.”

Olivia knew they were just teasing each other about wanting their first child in college, but she had never seen two young people as in love as they were and the realization that she was the product of their love for each other made her feel so connected to the world around her. There wasn’t a mystery to solve anymore. She was like her friends. She had two parents who once loved each other and they both wanted her. Olivia didn’t know why her mom was so upset with him, but it no longer mattered because she was going to find a way to get the two of them to sit down together and work out their differences. Even if her dad was married and her mom was with Jamie, she wanted them to at least become friends again and co-parent her. They’d sit together at her games and both go to her parent/teacher conferences and back-to-school nights. She’d even rotate holidays between the two of them and her life would be filled with twice as much love as she already had.

The video went on for another minute with her aunt Lexie and her mom’s best friend Becca entering the room with celebratory cupcakes for the two of them. “My girl is part of sorority history now,” Becca said to them. She then swiped some icing off the cupcake with her finger and smeared it across Serena’s cheek. Olivia couldn’t stop smiling when she saw the frosting fight that resulted from this and how happy and carefree they all looked.

Olivia glanced over at her friends who were next in line and she noticed a look of panic on Alex’s face. The door had just opened and she heard someone walk in, but she figured that couldn’t be the reason Alex was feeling that way. Her mom and dad both know that she’s here, so it’s not like Alex is gonna get in trouble. 

“Everything okay, Sport?” her dad asked. “Do you want to go over there with Alex?”

“Yeah, I should check on her.”

…but Olivia didn’t have the chance to get up before she felt someone approaching their booth.

“I need you to get the fuck away from my daughter!” she heard her mom say. Mom! Olivia felt her heart race. It was no longer just Alex looking in their direction. Everyone at the pizza place was now focused on them.

“Our daughter,” Emerson corrected her. “She’s just as much mine as she is yours, Serena. You honestly thought I was just going to let you keep her from me forever?”

“Olivia, get up!” she looked up at her mom who was now glaring at her. “Get Elliot and Alex and then get in the car. We’re leaving.”

“But, Mom－”

“Now, Olivia!”

“Serena, she’s fine.” She noticed her dad’s tone of voice start to calm and she wondered if it was an attempt at trying to stop her mom from causing an even bigger scene. “I just wanted to get to know her. Her friends are here. We’re just about to have some pizza. To show that I have the best of intentions, you can even join us. You and I haven’t seen each other in over twelve years. A lot of time has passed. We’ve both grown up and moved on with our lives. It’s all water under the bridge.”

“Water under the bridge?” Serena scoffed. “You think what happened was just some breakup or some misunderstanding and hurt feelings?”

When she first heard her, Olivia assumed this was going to end with her dad getting soda from a nearby glass thrown at him or with her mom telling him off or maybe even all of them being told to leave the restaurant. What she didn’t expect was for her mom to sit on the seat across from them and have a breakdown before their very eyes.

#cabenson #alex and liv: the wonder years #jerena

[percontaion-points]

Covet chapters 128-131

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Chapter 128

And even as the pleasure swamps me, engulfs me, there’s a tiny part of me that understands: Hudson has taken too much blood.

Chapter 128 summary: After Grace makes herself known to Hudson, she allows him to drink from her in an effort to force him to snap out of it. But he goes a little too far, and Grace thinks that he’s taken too much. 

Chapter 129

“I forgave you. I know I yelled at you about it when we were in New York, but I forgave you a long time ago. And I think if you want to beat this prison, then you have to do what you just did. You have to acknowledge your actions and why you did them. But you also have to forgive yourself. If you do that, this shithole can’t torture you anymore.”

She says all of this, yet she’s the only one who hasn’t been directly tortured by the chamber yet. 

Like wow! Forgiving myself and my past transgressions! Why didn’t I think of that! /sarcasm

“Hold on to your money and your magic, boys and girls, because we have finally made it. Welcome to the Pit.”

Chapter 129 summary: Grace remains still as Hudson continues to drain her blood. The only thing that’s keeping her still is the knowledge that murdering people isn’t like Hudson. Especially not somebody that he loves. He does eventually stop, and she tells him that his shitty dad forcing him to kill wasn’t his fault. 

They break out from the nightmare, where Remy yells at Grace for having kicked him out of Hudson’s mind. She apologises over the entire thing, but she doesn’t exactly sound that sorry. 

They sit around and wait for Flint and Calder to wake up. When they do, Grace tells Flint “You have to forgive yourself!” As if it was somehow that easy. 

They rest for a while before the lights in the room turn purple. Remy says that they’ve finally made it to the pit. 

Chapter 130

Lester must figure out that Remy’s not going to answer, because eventually he turns back to me and says, “There is only one path for you, my queen.”

Chapter 130 summary: Remy warns them that they’ve got to either escape prison in the next 12 hours, or they’ll have to return to their cell. Anybody who tries to stay out past those 12 hours will be punished with the chamber for a month. 

Grace is somehow surprised that the pit is nothing more than an underground, supernatural marketplace. But now she understands why Remy and Calder were intent on raising as much money before their trip down there. 

They follow Remy around as he collects packages, and delivers them to others. Grace eventually thinks to ask who the merchants are, and why their magic isn’t bound. Remy has to spell it out for her like she’s five: obviously the merchants are not prisoners. They’re capitalists. They don’t care about serving prisoners, only making money. Grace then begins to think about how if the vendors can get in and out of the pit, then there must be some way for them to leave as well. 

One of the merchants then hounds Grace until she agrees to do a tarot reading with him. He pulls the Tower card first, and then realises who she is. 

Chapter 131

It isn’t long before he turns us down a narrow, dark alley and then past two massive windigos. I expect them to stop us, but one nods while the other pats Remy on the head. And I’m reminded, once again, that these people—these creatures—raised Remy after his mother died when he was five years old. That this place is as much a home for him as it is a prison. 

I’m still livid that literally not one of them said “Hey man, it’s fucked up that a 5 year old orphan has to spend his life in prison.”

His face is crisscrossed from forehead to chin with the most brutal scars I have ever seen.

Chapter 131 summary: The guy continues on and gives Grace some of the most useless advice imaginable. Remy teases Grace that the guy was literally a troll, so what did she expect?

They stop for tacos, much to Grace’s delight. She’s from southern California, and likely hasn’t had a decent taco in Alaska. As they eat, they discuss Remy’s visions in regards to them getting out of the prison. 

Remy says that there’s no way that the prison would ever let the blacksmith go; he’s too useful for them. So he gets a flower. As does Remy himself. But he continues on and says that the future is too hazy to make any decisions about how everybody else gets out. Calder tries to cheer them up by suggesting that maybe Flint and Hudson have been rehabilitated enough to be let go?

With ten hours remaining, Remy finally takes them to the blacksmith. 

#Crave series #Covet (Crave 3) #chapter 128 #chapter 129 #chapter 130 #chapter 131 #Grace (Crave) #Hudson Vega #Flint (Crave) #HEADDESKING #Remy (Crave) #Calder (Crave) #shitty justice system is shitty

[cattlehymn]

goth!Sam au: in which Sam runs away, goes to Stanford, and developed a gender nonconforming goth style, which he loves and finds it creative and freeing + john would hate it + it lets him explore all the “bad” things John never let him near. 

Maybe Jess is goth! They meet and she’s charmed by all the monster lore he knows and stories he could tell and the seriousness that he told them with, tho he always laughs it off when she asks if he’s ever seen anything himself. 

When Sam asks about her style and her beliefs more she knows they’re genuine questions of interest, and she can see that maybe his interest is more personal than he lets on. 

Maybe Jess goes to church and Sam goes along with her, and they sit in the back, and she teaches Sam about all the intricacies of her belief and how to pray. Maybe Sam doesn’t know if church is for him but he finds comfort in the idea of a creator who would never think of him as a mistake.

They walk through a graveyard afterwards. Sam’s been to hundreds of graveyards by this point in his life, but as they walk he listens to Jess’s reflections on death and her words put new perspectives in his head. 

She believes that the dead shouldn’t be separated from their past life. Body + spirit + soul, coexist together in one being. A person now dead still has a value, has a story, and their body is an extension of their time on earth. Souls depart, ghost linger, and bodies stay. 

With Jess, beauty in the transition from life to death had never been clearer. She awakened an appreciation in him.  

Jess practices witchcraft and she wants to share that with Sam too. He gets weary and his stomach drops thinking about what john would do to him if he ever caught him listening to this kind of stuff. 

When Jess reads his palm, she kisses it, and tells him he’s going to live a long life, and Sam doesn’t know why but he starts crying, and Jess, in all her kindness, just wraps her arms around his waist and holds him. They rock back and forth and maybe she’s crying now too. She never shows him her palm.

Sam starts to feel himself channeling something, maybe a power? he thinks they’ve opened a floodgate now learning about all this stuff, but he feels strong? secure? 

The things Jess has taught him makes sense in ways that the things he was raised on never did. It all feels so exciting (if not a little forbidden) to know all the things he knows now. He’s afraid to practice on his own, but just knowing that he could if he wanted to feels liberating.

Sometimes he thinks about dean and wishes he could explain all of this to him. Tell his brother that he’s changed and how he’s so much happier for it, and he thinks maybe there’s a chance dean would be happy for him to, but then he immediately buries the thought. 

Dean can’t know. He’d probably hate Sam, like how Sam knows John would hate him if he ever saw what his youngest child has done with his new life. He doesn’t even want to know what John and Dean would say about Jess, He gets defensive just at the thought.

She’s all that’s important to him now. Her and the future Sam wants to make with her. She’s given so much love and patience, and he hopes he’s given just as much back. His chest warms at the thought of her. and he thinks quietly to himself that John Winchester can’t take that away.

Maybe they get Halloween tattoos, and Sam thinks it’s hilarious because this is his first non hunter related tattoo he’s ever had and it’s probably a monster tatt or something equally campy. 

When dean shows up to the dorm and sees Sam for the first time in two years, Sam is pinning him down pissed off and disgruntled from being awoken abruptly, he’s still in his sleep smeared eyeliner/eyebrows/and lipstick from yesterday. He’s got a little gay dangly earring hanging down from one ear and a black stud in the other, he looks down at his older brother who looks exactly the same as Sam remembers him and dean lets out a laugh

Before they leave to go find John, dean tells Sam to “not bring any of that girly shit” cause it’d just cause problems, to which Sam ignores him, placing his makeup bag in the rucksack Jess helped him pack. She helps him put on his spiked/patched denim jacket that they had worked on together last fall (it’s got both their signatures on it). She gives him a kiss goodbye and tells him not to miss her too much, and also if he ever see’s any of those monsters he always use to talk about he better be sure to call and tell her all about it. 

#spn #supernatural #spn au #Sam Winchester #goth!sam au #my dream projection sam in which he is not white and is a he/she/they goth lesbian 😌😌😌 #closeted dean is angry and confused just looking at him #he is sooo jealous at sams new found comfort and confidence #dean would be enraged when confronted by the idea that it's always been possible to have non selfish happieness out of life #and that his dad raising them in one narrow path his entire life is the root of a lot of his internal suffering #dean eventually flipping the script and slowly starts learning about this new sam and starts advocating for him #dean who is suddenly upset by the idea of anybody else ever giving sam a hard time in life because of who he is or what he looks like #dean asking sam about jess after her death and getting the full picture of what she meant to sam and all the ways she helped him #dean getting more and more nervous the closer they get to finding john cause he's not sure who's side he's suppose to be on anymore

[valdomarx]

“Geralt. My dearest friend. My closest companion. Light of my life, fire of my-”

Geralt narrows his eyes. “What do you want, Jaskier?”

“Seeing as how I’ve made you famous, and I flatter myself that this has eased you path somewhat, why, this very inn not only took us in but even offered us a discounted rate-”

“What do you want, Jaskier?” Testier this time.

“Ahh. Well. Let me put it plainly: I’m in need of a favour.”

Geralt raises one eyebrow, in an expression he knows speaks volumes.

“I need you to come with me to Lettenhove this winter and pose as my fiancé.”

Geralt nearly drops the sword he’s sharpening. A million thoughts whip through his mind, but one is most pressing: “Why, for Melitele’s sake?”

Jaskier waves a hand in a vague and non-descriptive gesture. “It’s a court thing, you know how families are, and my mother has made it abundantly clear that it’s time for me to settle down and this year I’m to return affianced or else she’ll select someone for me. And I can’t get hitched to some local lady, Geralt, I simply can’t, it’ll ruin my bardic appeal, not to mention my employment prospects, and of course I won’t be able to travel with you, and it’s-”

Geralt holds up a hand to ward off the wall of words. The idea of no longer travelling with Jaskier is unconscionable, not that he’d ever admit that out loud. And they spend so much time together they’re practically married anyway. How hard could it be to pretend for a few days?

“Fine,” he says gruffly.

“Oh, Geralt, you are wonderful.” Jaskier beams and throws his arms around Geralt’s neck. Geralt growls, but secretly, it’s actually rather nice.

-

“Mother, this is Geralt, my fiancé.”

Cold, clear eyes look him up and down, assessing him, and pinch into an expression suggesting he has been found wanting. Geralt decides against opening his mouth and further cementing that opinion.

“A witcher.” Her voice has the familiar twang of Jaskier’s, but with the flat, expressionless cadence he associates with the higher echelons of the aristocracy.

“A witcher!” Jaskier confirms in a cheery tone. “Isn’t that exciting?”

She sniffs in a manner which makes it clear that exciting would not be her first choice of word. “I see. He will be joining us for this year’s Yuletide?”

“He will.”

Her face draws back into the impassive mask of the well-bred. “Very well. You will stay in the east wing.”

“Thank you, mother.” Jaskier executes a stiff bow which Geralt copies and they beat a hasty retreat.

-

“That went rather well!”

Geralt blinks. “Jaskier, I’m fairly sure your mother means to have me killed in my sleep.”

“Oh, don’t mind her. She’s always like that. She’s actually softened up a lot since dear old dad died, gods rest the grumpy bastard.”

Geralt struggles to imagine how such staid, cold people could possibly have produced a son as bright and warm as Jaskier. They might as well be a different species.

Jaskier pushes open a door to a grand suite, all plush velvets and gold ornamentation, a thick woven rug underfoot. It’s the most opulent room Geralt has ever seen, but Jaskier pays it no mind and throws his bag casually on the bed.

“We’ll have to stay here together,” he says apologetically, not looking Geralt in the eye. “But the bed is plenty big, or I can sleep on the sofa if you’d rather -”

Geralt is still taking it all in: The space, the furnishings, the frankly enormous bed which looks divinely comfortable. And there, through the next room, that looks like-

“Is that a copper bathtub?” he asks, eyes wide. Such luxuries were a rarity indeed.

Jaskier grinned. “It is. Let me get some food sent up and I’ll wash your hair?”

Geralt grumbles, just for the effect, and decides that putting up with tedious aristocracy might have its benefits after all.

-

Yule festivities in Lettenhove are, mercifully, a mere matter of days. First there is the fitting for formal attire, which Geralt scowls through but Jaskier promises will be made up for with plenty of good food and wine. Then there are several deeply tedious aristocratic parties, which Jaskier sails through and Geralt spends mostly hiding in dark corners, as is his wont.

Occasionally, Jaskier will grab him by the hand and introduce him as, “Geralt, my husband-to-be,” and something funny will flip over in his stomach which will require several drinks to settle. When he returns to his dark corner he’ll find his heart pumping a little faster as his eyes track Jaskier flitting around the room. It’s probably just indigestion from all the rich food.

Then there is the formal family Yuletide dinner, a spectacularly awkward and singly unpleasant evening spent around a long, cold table with Jaskier’s mother and various cousins, who regard Geralt with expressions ranging from bland disinterest to active hostility. The food is heavy beyond measure and the conversation cruel and bland by turns.

They cover the need for raising taxes, the many failings of the servant class, and the petty squabbles over jewels and titles that seems to be the bread and butter of these people. With each hateful line, Geralt feels his blood rising. If it weren’t for Jaskier making pleading eyes at him, he’d take great pleasure in explaining some hard truths to them.

When a cousin begins expounding on useless lazy peasants in the estate, complaining that they can’t work because of plague, but we all know they’re simply idle, Geralt grits his teeth so hard that he swears the sound must be audible.

Beneath the table, Jaskier takes his hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. Staring down at their joined hands, Geralt detaches from these awful people and their awful conversation and focuses on the simple warmth of Jaskier’s fingers intertwined with his own.

-

They make their escape from dinner as soon as can be considered polite, and Geralt takes a second to lean against the door to their room, breathing deeply.

“You did well not to throttle anyone,” Jaskier says with a reassuring smile. “If we’d had to listen to cousin Edrick for a minute longer, I might have launched over the table with a carving knife myself.”

Geralt reaches for him without thinking, and once again Jaskier’s hand slips into his own. It’s grounding, to feel something genuine in this place surrounded by artifice.

“Come on,” Jaskier says. “Let’s get out of here.”

Geralt doesn’t even ask where they’re going before nodding.

-

They sneak away from the estate out of the servants’ door and follow a winding path toward a cluster of lights in the valley below. The path into Lettenhove town is quiet and calm, and as they walk the snow begins to fall in soft flurries, covering the ground in a peaceful white blanket.

The town looks picture perfect when they arrive, a charming jumble of thatched cottages and a small, cosy inn from which bright light spills out into the snowy night. When they enter the barmaid runs over to hug Jaskier and the proprietor slaps him on the back, and Jaskier has a kind word and a waved greeting for every person in there.

Geralt feels something unwind in his chest, something he hadn’t realised was tight and twisted until now. Seeing Jaskier in his element, among people who love him for who he is, instead of among that cold, hateful family, he feels right in a way he hasn’t for days.

Jaskier is already buying drinks and passing them around, and he excitedly waves Geralt over. “Bree, Geoffrey,” he addresses the couple behind the bar, “This is Geralt.” A shy smile sneaks over his face. “My fiancé.” The couple gasp in delight and congratulate Jaskier, then they’re embracing Geralt like old friends and pushing a drink into his hands.

“Come on, Geralt, join us!” Bree smiles warmly. “It’ll be the ten o’clock bells soon, and we must have Jaskier lead us in a song.”

The evening is a whirl of music and dance and loud, terrible singing, which the entire town seems to join in. For once there is no corner for Geralt to hide in, so he stays by Jaskier’s side, basking in the reflected glow of these people’s clear adoration of his bard.

-

When the midnight bell chimes and Geoffrey turns them all out for the night, the revelers wend their way home still singing and drinking. As the place empties out, Jaskier slides over to Bree to press a kiss to her cheek and a bulging purse into her hand. She tries to wave him off but Jaskier tucks the money behind the counter all the same, and Geralt watches, a deep wave of fondness sweeping through him.

The snow is still falling when they step out into the now-quiet street, soft, fat flakes drifting lazily from the sky and sticking in Jaskier’s hair. His cheeks are flushed pink and his hair falls in an messy sweep over his eyes; without thinking Geralt reaches out to brush it away behind his ear. Jaskier’s blush deepens as he does so, but he shivers in the cold.

“Here.” Geralt unclasps the thick cloak from around his neck and sweeps it over Jaskier’s shoulders. Jaskier’s mouth forms a little o of surprise and he looks up at Geralt, something tender in his eyes.

Geralt’s gaze is caught by the snow flakes settling on Jaskier’s lashes; he’s so focused that he almost jumps when Jaskier reaches out to take his hand. The sky seems to glow with a soft orange light as the clouds reflect the last few fires in the town below; everything is warm with Jaskier’s hand in his despite the chill in the air.

“Thank you,” Jaskier says softly. “For being here with me.” And leaning in, his breath caressing over Geralt’s face, he touches his lips to Geralt’s cheek in a ghost of a kiss.

Suddenly it occurs to Geralt that this will be it, tomorrow they’ll head back on the path like none of this ever happened, no more holding hands or being close, no more being introduced as Jaskier’s betrothed. And despite the hellish parts of this experience he really doesn’t want it to end. He likes being Jaskier’s person, and he likes Jaskier being his.

They are still standing close together, mere inches between them, and it’s no effort at all to lean in, slowly, cautiously, to find Jaskier’s lips with his own, to place a tentative kiss there. And then Jaskier’s hands are fisting in his shirt and tugging him closer still, and his arms go around his waist and Jaskier is kissing him back like he’s been waiting for it, their mouths slotting together like they were made to fit each other, and everything is blazingly bright like the white of the snow.

When they pull apart they stay with foreheads pressed together, breathing the same air, and Geralt can see a smile cracking wide over Jaskier’s face.

“I like being engaged to you,” Geralt says quietly, unable to keep it in.

Jaskier’s smile widens even further. “I like being engaged to you too,” he says. He kisses him again. “Fiancé.” Another kiss. “Husband to be.” And another. “Partner.” One more. “Beloved.”

“I like the sound of those.” He suspects he may be wearing the same dopey grin as Jaskier is.

“Then let’s make it official.” Jaskier bites his lip. “Marry me?”

Jaskier is a picture of perfection, eyes gleaming and cheeks ruddy, snowflakes in his hair. Geralt’s heart has always been right here.

“I’d be honoured.” He considers for a second. “But not in Lettenhove.”

Jaskier’s laugh sparkles with joy. “Anywhere but here.”

#PLEASE ENJOY THIS HOLIDAY ROMCOM NONSENSE #i am feeling festive and also sappy #geraskier #the witcher #my writing

[witchywrter]

“Home” (Part 5/?)

Paul Lahote x reader

Part 4

Summary: y/n returns from college in California to her hometown in Forks to find things are not as she left them. She soon discovers that a lot more things have changed then she initially thought.

Warnings: mentions of death, car accident, verbal fighting, cussing, i think that covers it

A/N: i am literally so sorry for not updating sooner guys lmao i’m trying to update all my fics now, especially this one bc i love it. i’ll get the next one out next week. love you all!_______________________________________________

You felt so much pain as you began to regain consciousness and could make out someone calling your name.

“Y/n?”

You turned your head to the source of the sound to see a Doctor at your side, his hand on your arm. He was very handsome. Not exactly your type, but still. He looked to be around your age, far too young to be a Doctor already.

“Hello Y/n, my name is Dr.Cullen. You’ve been in an accident”

Your head was throbbing and you felt pain radiating from your stomach and leg. You looked around to find that you were indeed in the hospital.

You looked down at his hand on your arm. It was ice cold, absolutely freezing. He must have noticed you looking because he removed his hand.

“How long have I been here?” you asked, looking back to the Doctor.

“About a day and a half. Do you remember anything?” he asked kindly.

“There was a man in the road, he came out of nowhere. I swerved to try to avoid him” you said trying to remember.

“Your car flipped four times and caught fire. A piece of glass punctured your abdomen and another your left thigh, narrowly missing your femoral artery. We were able to stop the bleeding and stabilize your condition. You’re lucky to be alive, if your friend hadn’t been there to pull you out when he did, you could have died” he finished, shaking his head.

“My friend?” you asked.

“He’s from the reservation, one of Jacob Black’s friends I believe” he said.

Well that didn’t exactly narrow it done much. Your car was totaled most likely. You’re dad’s car, the one thing you had left of him.

“You’ll be okay, but you need your rest. You can be discharged tomorrow morning and the stitches will dissolve on their own in two weeks” he said has he picked up your chart and began walking away.

“Oh, one more thing. Sherif Swan called me, if you still want that internship, send over your resume and you can start after your two weeks” he said with a slight smile on his lips.

“Thank you Dr.Cullen” you called out as he left to check on other patients.

You looked over to your side to see an array of gifts on the beside table and chair. There seemed to be something from everyone. Flowers with cards from Leah, Sam, Emily and even Charlie and his daughter Bella and a big card from Quill, Embry, Collin, and Brady with all their own little messages and signatures.

The huge, brown bear sat on the chair with a red ribbon around its neck didn’t seem to have a card accompanying it.

You grabbed your phone from the side table and unlocked it. There were a few messages from friends and one from your mom. You opened up your mom’s message and read:

“Why did I have to find out from the Sherif that my daughters been in a car accident. You know what it was like for me when your father passed and the fact that you’d put me through that again is appalling”

This was followed by multiple messages about how horrible of a daughter you were and how you have no excuse for ignoring her text messages.

She had no right to bring up your dad like that. As if you got into an accident to hurt her, as if you were unconscious and not responding on purpose.

Your dad was driving home one night after a long night at the hospital when he was hit by a drunk driver. He was pronounced dead at the scene. You never got to say goodbye. Never got to tell him you loved him one last time.

You turned your phone off and set it on the side table and laid back down. Although you were out for a day and a half, you felt utterly exhausted, mentally and physically. You pulled your blankets back up and closed your eyes, hoping for a full nights rest.

You woke up to the curtains flying back, sunlight flooding the room. Your eyes stung as you were blinded.

“Wake up loser, it’s time for a jail break” Leah said in a very cheerful voice.

“No Leah, I’m not dead and feel amazing” you say in a sarcastic voice.

“That’s exactly what i wanted to hear. Seriously though, are you okay? You scared the shit out of everyone” she said, her voice taking on a concerned tone.

“Yeah, just beat up. Should be at healed up in two weeks” you say, sitting up.

“Here, I brought these from Emily’s house” she said, tossing a long sleeve, pants, socks, undergarments and shoes onto the bed.

After you changed and signed the discharge papers, you and Leah headed back to Emily’s place.

“What a bitch,” Leah said with disgust as she climbed the steps.

“I know, I still can’t believe I’m related to her” you say shaking your head.

Leah opened the front door and you hear “Surprise!” as you walk through. Everyone but Collin, Brady, Quill and Paul were there for your second homecoming.

Jake ran up to hug you, but Leah stepped in front of him.

“You wanna rip her stitches dumbass?” she said like a mother correcting her child.

“Oh shut it Leah” Jacob said, but gave you a much gentler hug than he originally intended.

“How are you?” Jake asked.

“Well I think I might fall over and die if one more person asks how I am” you say laughing. You stop as a stabbing pain shoots from your abdomen.

Sam, Emily and Seth hug you as well before you finally make it to the couch to sit down.

“What happened?” Embry asked taking a seat next to you with Leah on the other side.

“I was driving back here and I looked down at my phone for barely a second and when I looked back up there was a man in the road” you said.

“Well you know what they say about texting and driving” Seth said but the joke fell flat as no one laughed.

“What did the man look like?” Jake asked in a serious tone.

“Pale I guess, black hair, I’m not really sure. Why?” you asked, confused.

“No reason, just wondering” he said looking over to Sam who was sitting on a stool by the counter talking to Emily.

“Do you know who pulled me out?” you asked Jacob.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Dr.Cullen said one of our friends pulled me out of the car before it caught fire”

“Oh, uh, Paul did” he said.

Paul. Of all of your friends you had thought it might have been, that was the absolute last person you’d think would save you. If anything he’d probably be the one to toss you right into the flames.

“Oh” was all you said.

The front door opened and in walked Quill and Paul.

“Well I’ve gotta get back to..work” Jacob said standing up.

“Me too” said Seth as he followed Jacob to the door.

“Heal up Y/n!” Jacob yelled over his should and he and Seth left.

Quill came over and sat where Seth had just been and gave you a hug and Paul went straight to Sam without even acknowledging you.

Not like it mattered anyway.

“How are y-“ Quill started.

“Fine” you cut him off.

Through the rest of the day, people started to leave one by one as they had work, school or other things to get to. Eventually Paul said his goodbyes to Sam and Emily and began walking out the door, again without saying a word to you.

You got up as quickly as you could without hurting yourself and momentarily excused yourself from your board game that you were beating Embry in. You walked out the door just as Paul was off the steps.

“Hey!” you called to him.

Paul stopped and slowly turned back to you.

“What?” he asked rudely, not fully meeting your gaze.

Instead of responding with the same attitude, you walked down some of the steps.

“I just wanted to say thank you. Jacob told me what you did” you said gently.

“It wasn’t exactly like there was a choice in the matter” he spat.

“Could you just not be a complete asshole for once in your life? I’m trying to thank you for saving my life” you said, anger getting the best of you.

“Well it would have saved me a world of trouble had I not” he said.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you ask, raising your voice.

“Nothing. I-I can’t do this right now, I won’t do this right now” he said, voice equal to yours now.

“No, come on Paul, let it out. Say what you need to say!”

Paul started shaking with anger and as much as you knew you should stop, your anger wouldn’t let you.

“Say. It.” you seethed.

“Paul!” you heard as the front door swung open.

You turned around to see Quill come running down and barreling into Paul, pushing him away from you. Sam came running out too.

“Get him out of here!” Sam yelled.

Quill grabbed Paul and pulled him out into the woods.

“What the hell?” you asked

“Get inside Y/n!” Sam yelled.

“You don’t tell me what to do” you said angrily

“Get. Inside. Now.” he said sternly.

You scoffed but turned on your heal and went inside and upstairs, waking right passed Emily and ignoring her as she called out to you.

Who did they think they were, telling you to get inside. Paul always had anger problems, this wasn’t anything new.

You hate him.

“Well it would have saved me a world of trouble had I not” replayed again and again in your head. You hated him for making you feel less than, for making you feel worthless.

Him saving you meant nothing. He was a dick to you your entire life and you didn’t care that Sam asked you to lighten up on him. No one bit.

As you laid down to sleep, not even bothering to take off your clothes or change, you wiped the single tear that escaped. You hated him and always would.

//////////////

You were walking through the woods to get to your favorite spot again. It was the middle of the night, but Jacob asked to meet you there. The moonlight shown through the thick trees, illuminating your path.

Everything was so green and beautiful, you missed being home.

You walked a little farther when your foot hit something, stopping you in your tracks. You looked down to see a rock jutting up from the ground. It was the same one you fell on the other day. It still had blood on it, fresh and bright and not at all dried. That wasn’t right. You fell days ago, it should be dried or the rain should have washed it off.

*Snap*

You spun around. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, that same feeling of being watched returning. You shouldn’t be out here. Emily warned you.

You scanned your surroundings, but it was too dark. What happened to the moonlight? You squinted your eyes and saw him-it.

The man from the road, eyes blood red, skin pale as snow, hair dark as the night around him. He cocked his head to the side, watching you.

Where did he come from? Had he been watching you the whole time? Was he in the woods that first day?

You could try to outrun him, you didn’t know how far into the woods you were, you didn’t even remember how you got here. You went to take a step back but he was in front of you instantly and attacked, grabbing your arm.

You jolted upright, breathing heavily. You looked around. You were in your room, at Sam and Emily’s. You were safe. You ran your fingers through your hair as you looked out the window. It was the middle of the night.

There were things that weren’t adding up. Everyone has been acting weird, telling you to avoid the woods, saying that whatever has been attacking people isn’t animal or human, the man in the road, even Paul’s behavior has been worse than normal…something wasn’t right, you could feel it in your gut.

You knew what they told you, the warnings, but with everything that happened with Paul and your mom, you didn’t care anymore. You were gonna find out what was going on, no matter what.

_______________________________________________

A/N: hey guys! i hope you enjoyed this chapter! lots of stuff happened and i swear we’re gonna get more paulxreader interactions from now on. love you all❤️❤️

@that-animebitch @fangirlanotherjust @justdidabadthing @scuzmunkie @ccosmic-illusion

@xthefuckerysquaredx @destroyed-and-damned @classyunknownlover @hglyu @blackloveangel13

@champagnesugamama @bshelley322

#paul lahote x reader #paul lahote imagine #paul lahote #twilight saga #twilight #new moon #twilight: new moon #paul lahote could kill me and i’d literally say thank you

[inkandpen22]

The Princess and The Pogue (Pt. 9)

Pairing: JJ x Reader / Topper x Reader

Word Count: 3.0k

Warnings: swearing, mild smut, angst, fluff

Part Summary: Y/N goes to see JJ after the party and she begins to think everything will work out

Masterlist

The Pogues are gathered around the bonfire, chatting over a couple of beers and joints. JJ keeps checking his phone every few minutes, wondering why you haven't texted him yet. You agreed for him to pick you up at your house at eleven, but he wants to wait for your text saying you're home. He's considered just going over anyway, assuming you're already there since dinner would've ended at least two hours ago. Before he has the chance to even rise to his feet to go, you and Topper roll up the driveway. None of the Pogues recognize the gray BMW, except Sarah. 

“Is that Topper dropping off Y/N?” She frowns in confusion as the car comes to a steady halt at the end of the gravel drive. 

Pope presses his fingers to his temples, wide-eyed. “Am I hallucinating?” 

“Okay, enough weed for me," Kiara declares, passing the joint to John B. 

Topper stops the car and turns to you. “You’ll be okay?” 

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” you nod, collecting your bag between your legs. 

“Call or text if you need me,” he instructs, still somewhat reluctant to drop you off. 

“Will do,” you offer him a reassuring smile. 

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow," he complies, leaning over the divider and planting a quick peck to your cheek. “Love you.” 

“Love you too,” you return, granting him a kiss on the cheek as well. You climb out of Topper's car, walking toward the fire pit where JJ and everyone watch you utterly dumbfounded. “Hi guys,” you greet, slinging your bag over your shoulder. 

“Topper knows his way around The Cut?” John B pokes fun. 

“Did he drop you off to scope out the place?” Kiara grumbles. 

“He didn’t want me driving," you explain as you take a seat next to a silent JJ. "We went to Kelce’s for a little after dinner and I’ve been drinking." 

“What a gentleman,” Sarah mumbles sarcastically. 

“Hi Baby,” JJ greets you with a soft smile, wrapping his arm around your waist. 

“Hi,” you grin, leaning in and planting a kiss to his lips to which he reciprocates. 

“I could’ve picked you up,” he whispers against your lips. 

“I know," you state, parting from him for a second. "I just didn’t want to make you do the drive." 

“I’m surprised Topper let you out of the car,” Sarah snickers. 

“We came to an understanding,” you describe vaguely. 

“Oh yeah?" Kiara raises a brow. "What’s that?” 

“We’re just friends,” you reply confidently. 

“I don’t just kiss my friends goodbye...” John B mumbles under his breath. 

“We’re just friends," you reiterate, starring the boy down warningly. 

“You bet you are,” JJ agrees, pulling you into his side. “I missed you today.” 

“I missed you too," you blush, peering over to meet his gaze. 

“Movie anyone?” John B suggests suddenly rising to his feet. 

“Yes!” Sarah bursts. 

“Comedy!” Pope votes. 

“Romance!” Kiara challenges. 

“Actually," JJ sighs, standing up next to you. "I was going to head to bed, wanna come?” He asks as he glances down at you.

You hum. “Yeah, I’m pretty tired actually." 

____________________________________________

You and JJ lay in bed, facing each other as you talk about everything under the sun. You could've watched the movie considering you've been up for hours talking, not once trying to fall asleep. Yet, spending hours laying in bed, talking to JJ, is a much better pass time. 

“Fish tacos from The Wreck,” JJ answers without a moment's hesitation. 

“Ooo, you know I’ve never been there,” you confess, intrigued. 

“Really?!" JJ's eyes grow wide. "We’ll have to go ASAP! Kie’s dad makes the best hush puppies,” he dramatically gestures with his hands. 

You giggle, “sounds amazing.” 

“Okay, now your turn." JJ's arm drapes over you and rubs his hand up and down your back. 

“Hmm," you hum, thinking it over. "My grandma’s chicken and dumplings. She always made it when I was sick and it’s like a warm hug.”

“Yum," he grins. “Dream vacation?”

“Anywhere with a beach,” you answer easily. “I love to travel, but I also love the ocean so can’t be too far from it. You?”

“Surfing trip around the world," he nods, clearly having thought about it before. "I’m talking Australia, Japan, Brazil, all over.”

“Surfing world tour. Very surfer Pogue of you,” you tease playfully. 

“Would a Kook Princess like to come?” He offers with a sly smirk as his eyes fall to the small space between you. 

“Sure I’ll follow,” you accept with a soft smile. 

JJ jokingly nudges you on the shoulder with a slight blush to his cheeks. “Stop," he chuckles. "If anything you pick the places and I follow. Follow you around the world.”

“You would?” You narrow your eyes at him with a smirk. 

“What’s that Carol King song?” He tries to recall and whispers some of the words. “Where you lead...”

“I will follow," you add in a sing-songy tone. 

“Anywhere!” You both say in unison to each other, causing you two to laugh. 

JJ exhales deeply, catching his breath after laughing.“Talking to you is so easy it’s scary," he confesses, taking your hand in his between you two. 

“I never felt so understood until I met you,” you tell him. 

His brows scrunch together as he watches your hands move around one another. “You don’t think Topper understands you?”

“I do... to an extent,” you shrug, not fully convinced. “He’s known me longer, so he knows why I am the way I am, but he’s not necessarily accepting of all of it.”

“What do you mean?” JJ wonders aloud.  

“If I told him that I don’t want to go to every party and rather stay in, he’d wonder why. If I said I don’t like the Club and rather spend a day on some remote island somewhere he wouldn’t relate. I could tell you that I want to move to Guam and you’d be game for it. Some days I don’t want to have any responsibilities or social obligations which confuses Topper. He’s satisfied where he is. He’s satisfied being stationary and though I’m told I have everything, I don’t want any of it." You pause, finding yourself coming to a hard conclusion. You peer up at JJ who's eyes have left your hands and pour into you. "There has to be more right? There has to be something different out there.”

“Life beyond the OBX?" He seek to clarify to which you nod. "Yeah, there’s an entire world outside of here!”

“That’s what I want..." You whisper. "Something entirely my own and somewhere where no one knows me.” 

“Maybe we should explore it together,” he smiles gently with content. “I mean, as long as it’s okay for one person to know you.” 

“You don’t count," you blush. 

JJ releases your hand, bringing his own to caress your cheek. “I want to see the world with you." 

You lean into his touch, his warmth making you feel safe, seen, and understood. “I think that can be arranged...”

JJ shakes his head, as though he's come to a profound realization. “You’re everything to me." His words slip by in a whisper as he leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your lips, sealing his statement. 

You run your fingers through JJ's hair, pulling him in deeper. He smiles against your lips, loving your reaction. He moves to hover over you, encompassing you with his body. You take matters into your own hands and press JJ down to lay down beside you. Swiftly, you move to straddle him. A grunt leaves him and you cower slightly. 

"Did I hurt you?!" You nearly panic. 

“No, no,” he’s quick to assure you, bringing his hand to your face and brushing your hair back. 

You hadn’t noticed when he got into bed, the bruises and cuts scattered across his torso. You remember them from the Boneyard and in the hot tub. You had thought perhaps they were from Topper. 

JJ can tell that your mind isn’t satisfied. "What else is troubling you?" He frowns. "Babe, look at me, please."

"If these weren't Topper, what happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it,” he scrunches his face with a shake of the head. “Don't worry, it's taken care of,” he tries to change the subject, reaching up to kiss you. 

You gasp. "Did someone do this to you?!" You quickly realize. 

"Y/N..."JJ exhales deeply. 

"JJ, I have to know!” You argue. “If someone-"

"It was my dad okay!" He confesses. 

You heart sinks has the dark reality hits you like a ton of bricks. 

"He... he gets mad sometimes..."JJ describes, looking anywhere but you. He begins to fidget with the hem of your shirt. When... When things weren’t good between us... I picked a fight with him. It was stupid. I shouldn't have done it, but I did! I think I wanted it. At least then I could control the pain,” he explains, killing you.

You lean down and plant a gentle, comforting kiss to his lips. When you pull back, JJ stares at you, stunned by the action. You swallow hard as you slide down, keeping eye contact with him as you plant a kiss to his bruised peck. JJ’s heart begins to race as he watches you. You continue on your path to his multicolored rib. JJ’s hand brushes over the top of your head gently. Your fingers curl under the hem of his boxers as you leave a trail of kisses over his cut and bruised stomach. 

"Y/N..." He breathes heavily as his eyes fall shut. 

"Never again,” you tell him warningly as a demand. “You never go back there. Here, Kie's, Pope's, my place, anywhere else but there. Morning, noon, or night, you need a place, come to me. You hear me?"

JJ nods, too consumed in you to voice anything. 

"I see marks like these on you again, I'll kill him and they won't find the body. I've seen enough crime documentaries. I can be like Liam Nison in Taken,” you joke slightly. 

"I'm sure you could," JJ smirks, peering down at you. 

You lift yourself up to hover just above his face. You cup his cheeks, making him look you in the eyes. "I'm never going to leave you, ever! You never have to suffer alone again. I promise. Your pain is my pain. Whatever you inflict on yourself you also do on me."  

"I promise too. You're my world, Y/N,” he tells you and you know he means it. “You're my life now."

Suddenly, there's a ruckus coming from outside in the hall. The sound of the screen door slamming against the frame and shouting. 

“Hey! Hey! Hey! I’ll go get her! You stay here!” You hear John B yell. 

“Like I’d listen to you!” Another voice barks. 

You break from JJ, trying to listen. “What’s going on?” 

“I don’t know,” he frowns, peering over at the door. He climbs off of you and slips out of the bed. He grabs a t-shirt from the chair in the corner and pulls it over his head, his boxers still slightly exposed. 

“JJ, be careful!” You beg, worried that it could be someone looking for trouble. 

"I will, Baby. It's okay," he promises, heading toward the door to check it out. 

“Cool off Topper!” Pope shouts before you hear a bang. 

“Topper?” You mumble in disbelief, flying off the bed and toward the door.

“Y/N!" JJ grabs your wrist as you open the door. "Baby, wait!” 

Before he has the chance to stop you, you stumble into the hallway. JJ rushes out of the bedroom, nearly running into you. Standing at the end of it, in the archway of the living room, Topper turns his attention away from the Pogues. His eyes land on you and a wave of relief consumes him. 

“Y/N...” Your name falls from his parted lips faintly. 

“Topper...” You stand frozen. 

“There is almost an equal Kook to Pogue ratio in this house and I don’t like it,” Pope huffs from behind Topper. 

“I need to talk to you," the tall blonde announces urgently. 

You speed walk down the hall, despite JJ's efforts to stop you. “Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah, I just... I... uh...” Topper stutters, nervously avoiding your gaze, and focuses on the small floor space between you. 

“Have you been drinking again?" You question, coming to the conclusion he has. He smells of beer and weed, more than he did hours ago. "Did you go back to Kelce’s!” 

“I was losing my mind, Y/N!" He bursts, uncharacteristically, causing you to jump and JJ to step forward toward you. "I needed a distraction, but nothing was working!” Topper explains in a rush, all fidgety. “Can we just go somewhere to talk?” 

JJ immediately steps in, moving to stand between the two of you. “You’re not going anywhere with her!” 

“Oh shove it,” Topper snaps at JJ. 

“You forget you’re on my side of the island, Kook!” JJ barks, shoving Topper in the chest. 

“Enough!” You scream, pressing a palm to each of their chests. “For Pete’s sake!” 

“Back off JJ!” Kiara yells. 

“I just need to talk to you,” Topper pants. 

You exhale deeply, glancing between JJ and Topper. You know JJ won't approve and won't allow it without a fight, but you agree to speak with Topper. “Okay, let’s go outside.” 

JJ laughs, pacing around. “You can’t be serious-” 

“Ten minutes!” You shout at him, escorting Topper toward the door. 

“She sure told you,” Topper mocks JJ as he backs up to the exit. 

“Oh shut up,” you grumble, urging Topper through the doorway leading to the front yard. 

You and Topper settle down on the hammock, swinging back and forth on the edge, side by side. The sun has long since set and the lights in the large tree illuminate the yard. Unable to sit still, Topper rises from his spot and paces in front of you. 

“What’s going on Topper?” You ask worriedly. 

The boy stops, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck nervously. “I’m losing my mind, Y/N!" He finally breaks his silence. "I feel like there are weights strapped to me and I’m being pulled to the bottom of the ocean, struggling for air!” He rushes out in a pant. “I’ve been an arrogant ass and too scared to pay attention, but now I’m just scared and I’m afraid if I don’t tell you this now that I’ll never get a chance like this again!” 

You stand, taking his hands in yours. "Just take a deep breath!" 

He yanks his hands free of your hold, running his fingers through his hair as he paces away. "I'm about to be the most selfish person on the planet!" 

“Topper, just say it! It can't be that bad!" You try to reassure him, the pit in your stomach growing with each passing minute. You can only assume the worst. 

“I love you!” Topper bursts out, meeting your gaze pleadingly. 

A weight lifts off your shoulder. You thought it was something bad. “That's it? I love you too,” you laugh lightly. 

“No!" He stops you. "Not the way you mean it... it’s not the same! I love you!” 

Neither of you notice the Pogues hiding in the enclosed patio, watching everything go down. 

“I knew it!” Pope announces from his spot by the window. 

“Pay up!” Kiara holds out her hand to John B. 

JJ's heart sinks when he hears the confession leave Topper. He wants to run for the hills, but he can't help but observe you stand there in shock. 

Topper's chest rises and falls rapidly. “I didn’t realize it fully until I dropped you off and saw you with him. I know what I said earlier, that I’m okay with this!" The words fly out of him like a freight train going full speed. “But I’m not! I’ve been in love with you for two years! Before Sarah, during Sarah, after her!” 

“Okay ouch...” Sarah mumbles from her spot on the patio. 

“I’ve loved you since the moment I met you, I’ve just been too caught up in everything else to notice!" Topper's voice cracks with emotion. 

"You tell me this now!" You shout, growing more frustrated with each passing second. 

He sighs, "I know, I know, I'm sorry-" 

"No! You don't get to apologize!" You snap at him, utterly pissed off and frankly hurt. "You could've had me! You had me, Topper!" You correct as your eyes begin to swell with tears. "You had every opportunity to change the status quo and you didn't! You let me feel like a toy, there to satisfy you when you needed company! Yes, it was fun! Yes, it was great sex! Yes, I fed into the holding and touching, even when you and Sarah were on a break because I thought..." You swallow hard, processing what you're about to say. "Because I thought that eventually, you'd love me!" You break, tears falling down your cheeks. You finally let go of a truth you've been holding in for years now. "If I kept sleeping with you that one day you'd realize that we were more than just friends! Everyone else thought it! But you were caught up on Sarah and then it became not letting Sarah be with John B! I had to break it off after Bermuda because it was killing me! I couldn't take it anymore! I had to begin to move on!" 

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm such an idiot!" Topper rushes up to you, taking your hands in his pleadingly. "Tonight, feeling you again, I saw the rest of our lives and I want it! I don’t give a shit about our friends or golfing or the Club or Sarah because none of it matters if I don’t get to experience it with you!” He begs, “so pick me! Be with me! Love me!” 

You whimper, unsure of what to do or say. Everything is happening so fast. 

"You slept with him?" 

You turn over your shoulder to find JJ standing just a few feet away. His eyes glisten under the lights of the tree. He swallows hard, taking your silence as enough of an answer. He nods his head, pressing his lips together to hold back his emotions.

“You’re exactly as everyone says!” He yells, pointing at you aggressively. 

In a second, he's sprinting away down the gravel drive. You step forward, ready to run after him, but Topper grabs your wrist. 

"Y/N, don't!" He pleads. 

You yank your wrist free, before running him. "JJ!" You call, "JJ wait!" 

"Y/N!" Topper shouts, running after you. 

"JJ!" You beg for him to stop. 

"Y/N, wait!" Topper grunts, sprinting. 

"JJ!" You struggle to keep up with the boy. Soon, he disappears into the dark woods across the street and you have no choice but to halt, losing all hope. 

You fall to your knees on the gravel. The sound of Topper's feet hitting the gravel quickly approaching. You slam your fists to the ground with a scream, hitting your boiling point. How much is a girl expected to take? 

______________________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @starkeythinker @bethii1 @thegunnerkelly@cc13723things@hockeybabe87 @jolomez @plutooryectors

#topper imagine #topper outer banks #topper #topper obx #topper thornton #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank fic #jj #kiara obx #kiara carrera #kiara #pope #obx fanfiction #obx jj #rafe obx #obx #sarah cameron #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron #outerbanks rafe #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe #john b #john b routledge #john b imagine

[sulphuryasecretcloset]

His little sister and her big brother

They’re eating a late dinner in their room. Raga is drowning her plate with spices while Paz patiently tries to get food into his mouth with his right hand while his left hand is being tugged and manoeuvred about as Liita chews her own food and studies his clunky, old vambrace.

Half of his haul falls off his fork as Liita abruptly turns his hand again to eye where the fuel tube connects to the metal. She’s clearly not pleased with the emergency repair she had to do the last time it fell apart. 

“I don’t get why you don’t just replace this vambrace. It’s complete crap.” Liita says.

Raga pauses in her spice-mayhem and looks at Paz. She knows why.

Paz shrugs and dives back in with his fork to get a decent pile on it again. “I like it.” He lies and quickly shoves his food into his mouth before she makes him drop it again.

“One day that tube is going to fail mid-battle and you’re going to explode into a ball of fire.” Liita grumbles, turning his hand again. “Idiot.”

Paz chews, pulls his hand free and flicks a finger at her forehead. He grins at her angry flail and lets her have his hand again to keep fidgeting and complaining about the vambrace.

Raga goes back to eating as well.

-

It’s disgustingly early the day Paz stalks around and looks for his grey t-shirt with growing frustration as time is running out. “Are you sure you didn’t take it?” He opens a drawer.

“I’m sure.” Raga snaps in a voice tight with irritation as she waits for him to finish packing.

Paz slams a drawer shut and straightens to stare at her. “Well, it’s not here.”

“Well, I didn’t take it.” She counters, with a touch of anger now.

Paz’ eyes narrow. He knows she loves that grey t-shirt, loved it from the second he acquired it during their teenage years (The fabric had been pitch black back then.) and that ever since; she has hoarded and worn this particular shirt more than he has. But he also knows that she wouldn’t lie about taking it and if he pushes her any more, she will punch him in the face.

Grumbling, Paz grabs another shirt and stuffs it into his bag. Fine. He’ll find it when they get back from their mission.

And he does.

“I got you the part you wa…” Paz comes to an abrupt next to the ship Liita is working on, currently parked outside the Covert, and he sees her climb out of the hammock in the cargo hold. She has a sleepy look on her face and her skinny frame is wearing his missing grey t-shirt. (Which is ridiculously big on her.) “Hey. That’s my shirt!”

“Yeah. I know.” Liita yawns and walks over to grab the engine part he’s holding and he’s too surprised to keep her from taking it. “This looks mint. Thanks.”

“I was looking for that shirt.” Paz says, frustrated. “I accused Raga of taking it.”

“That was stupid of you.” Liita says, walking away while studying the piece in her hand.

“I want my shirt back!” Paz shouts.

“I bet if I ask Dad, he’ll say I can keep it.” Is her smug reply and Paz blinks. Oh, that little troll…

“It’s my shirt!”

He does get the shirt back, but only in time for Raga to steal it. Him whining, ahem, complaining about it only ends in Raga pushing her chest forward, smiling and sweetly asking if she doesn’t look good in it and he kind of forgets what he was complaining about…

-

It’s raining when Paz is playing a board game with a friend and Liita walks into the Covert.

She sheds her raincover and walks over to where they are sitting. “For the record, he asked for it.”

Paz keeps his gaze on the board. “What happened?”

“I was working on the ship.”

Paz’ friend moves a piece and Paz calculates his options. “Uh huh?” He moves his piece. “And?”

“And I noticed several of my tools were gone. Again.” Liita grits her teeth and crosses her arms. “I told Drallah not to touch my stuff. Those were brand new and expensive. Dad got me those.”

“Mhm.” Paz says, watching as his friend’s hand hover over the pieces while trying to decide which move to make next. “And then what happened?”

“I went over to his place, found him and my stuff.”

“What did you do?”

Liita shrugs. “I took one of the wrenches and smacked him across both of his poleyns. Once he’d stopped wailing and squirming around on the ground, I told him next time I’d do it without him wearing his armor.”

Eyes still on the board, Paz raises his hand towards her, palm up, and waits for her to high-five him.  She does. “That’s my sister.” He says, then returns all of his focus on the game again while she wanders off.

-

One day Liita is sitting on the bed, calmed by Raga braiding her hair as usual, and she frowns at the sight of Paz removing his helmet after joining them in the room.

“Your hair is growing out.” Liita states. “You’re all fluffy.”

“Yup.” Paz replies, running his hand through the flattened locks, ruffling it a little, and savours the predatory look in Raga’s eyes.

“Why would you-” Liita then wrinkles her nose with disapproval and glares at him. “Stop it. You’re being gross.” She elbows Raga. “You too.”

Raga cackles and Paz deliberately lingers on how much he loves that sound and how beautiful she looks…

“Stop!” Liita clamps her hands over her ears, trying in vain to block out the feelings he’s emitting as if they were sound waves.

Paz tilts his head, sees the growing grin on Raga’s face as she realizes what he’s doing and feels a hot pulse in his blood when she waggles her eyebrows quite suggestively at him.

They both burst into laughter when Liita breaks and makes a run for the door with a frustrated shout.

-

It’s an entirely unremarkable day when Liita enters the room and Paz barely looks up from his datapad. Raga is in the shower, nothing interesting is planned for the day and he’s just lazing about.

Liita climbs into bed and shuffles over to sit nearby him, but she doesn’t say anything.

As silence is nothing new when it comes to her, it takes a while before Paz glances over. But once he does; he instantly lowers his datapad and she has his full attention.

Liita looks… off. There is something wrong. Sure, Liita has a closed off or somewhat grouchy expression on her face by default, but this isn’t that. She looks uneasy. Upset? “What’s wrong?”

Liita shakes her head.

Paz puts the datapad away and sits up properly, despite his armor not exactly working with him here. “Talk to me. Tell me what wrong?”

She hesitates, but eventually Liita draws a deep breath and starts talking. “It’s nothing. It’s really nothing. It’s stupid.” She clears her throat and shifts a little. “Am I ugly?”

She could not have surprised Paz any more if she’d slapped his bare face. “What-no!” He reaches out and takes a hold of her chin to make her face him. “You are not ugly. Who said you were?”

Liita puts on a brave face, but she keeps her gaze lowered to his chest. “No one.”

Paz leans a little closer. “Who?”

“He didn’t use the word ‘ugly’, okay?” Liita carefully lifts her gaze to look at his t-visor. “Just that I was no fighter. Too skinny. And weak. That I didn’t look like a proper Mandalorian.”

“Who?” Paz repeats, having to grit the word out through the anger choking him.

“Makeiset.” Liita mumbles.

Paz releases her chin, gets out of bed, slams his hand on the door opener and stalks out of the room.

The first thing he does is check out Makeiset’s quarters, but he’s not there so Paz goes on the hunt. He marches from common room to common room, every Mandalorian he meets throws themselves out of his path, and finally, he steps through a door and sees his prey next to the room designated for blaster target practice.

Despite Makeiset wearing his armor, the way he freezes up and radiates guilt makes it easy to picture all the colour draining from his face when he sees Paz Vizla and the fury rolling off him.

The second Paz takes a step forward, Makeiset makes a run for it. Growling, Paz takes up the chase.

Mandalorians, tables, chairs and even part of a closing door goes flying as Paz goes after Makeiset like an enraged mudhorn. Speed is usually not his thing, but the underground Covert is made out of narrow corridors and countless turns, so speed is less important than persistence.

And Paz is determined to get his hands Makeiset, who runs for his life and tries every trick possible to shake off his pursuer or slow him down. Nothing works. Paz’ blind rage trumps everything. There is no place to run, no place to hide, no help to be had from others.

When he finally does get a hold of him, when his fingers goes around the guy’s neck and Paz yanks him backwards in mid-sprint, there is a satisfying cut-off scream that ends when Paz slams Makeiset’s back against the wall.

Breathing hard, Paz uses all of his height and bulk to loom while venting a little by slamming him against the wall again, three or four times for good measure. “Listen to me, you insignificant little turd, if I ever hear you badmouthing my sister again, it will be the last thing you do.”

Makeiset tries to push him away, tries to pry his fingers off him, but it’s not working. At all. “I just said… she’s weak. And she is! Skinny, weak and no fighter.”

Growling, Paz plants a fist into Makeiset’s ribs where no hard armor can protect him from the harsh impact and the wheeze of pain is music to his ears. “You question her Mandokarla?” He punches the ribs again and then plants a shoulder against him to keep him pinned against the wall instead of collapsing to the floor. “She saved Din from bleeding to death. She crashed a frigging ship into the killer of Davarax as he was about to cut my head off. She has faced things that would have given you nightmares. And you have the nerve to call her weak?” 

Paz grabs Makeiset by the breastplate, yanks him forward and sends him slamming face first into the opposite wall and then grabs his neck to hold him upright and pressed against it. “You will apologize to her. And you will mean it. Understand?”

Makeiset garbles something. It sounds like ‘yes’.

Paz lets go and the guy crumbles into a heap on the floor. He glares at the coughing and cringing shape. “If bodies were built on courage, she would have been twice the size of you.” The contempt he feels for Makeiset is dripping from every word. “You don’t deserve to wear that helmet.”

Walking away, Paz fights against the urge to pummel the guy some more.

Life as a Mandalorian is rough, yet Liita can handle it, he knows that. She can take a punch and hand out a punch, no problem. But what Paz will not tolerate is someone making his little sister sad, or have her doubt her place in the Covert or their clan.

When he comes back to the room, Paz finds Liita and Raga sitting on the bed and he marches over to crawl in and sit with them. Wrapping his arms around Liita, he leans over and gently taps his helmet against Raga’s.

Squirming and trying to push him away, Liita makes an annoyed grunt. “What did you do? Where did you go?”

Paz hugs her closer. “I had to get away from you for a bit. You smell.”

“I do not smell!” Liita declares with no small amount of outrage.

Raga shrugs, joining in on the lie with glee. “You kind of do. Like a wet Wookiee.”

“Do not.” Liita turns her glare towards Raga and absently leans back against Paz, relaxing. “Liar.”

“You want to go to the market in town tomorrow, Shorty?” Paz asks.

Liita frowns and glances back at him over her shoulder. “You want to go? With me?” Her voice is dripping with suspiciousness.

“Yeah.” Paz replies, knowing there is one thing she won’t be able to resist. “I need your help to find a pipe sleeve or a clamp for my vambrace. The tube is leaking again.”

Liita grunts with reluctant approval. “What you really should do is replace the entire vambrace. But, fine, we can try to keep you from turning into a walking pyre.” She leans back against him again and gets comfortable. “What you’re going to have to look for is-”

And off she goes on a rant about parts and materials that some Paz partially know about and others he has only heard of in legends from ancient times. But, the most important bit, is how her facial expression is now back to slightly annoyed and secure to the point of arrogant in her knowledge.

That is worth hours of waiting for his little sister to decide what to buy at that stupid market tomorrow.

#the mandalorian his son and the storm trooper #Paz Vizla #Paz Vizsla #Liita #Liita Vizla #Raga Saxon #Sibling tribulations #the one shots start coming and they don't stop coming

[blossom-hwa]

Prologue (CHAN) - |Breathe, and Live|

And so we begin the fluff :) Enjoy single dad chan!

Pairing: Chan x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, angst, slice of life, single parent!au

Triggers: allusions to sex

Word Count: 1.7k

Chan is lost, so lost, and sometimes it feels like the walls are caving in. But he’ll make it, he knows. He has to, for the two little boys cradled in his arms who he loves more than anything he has in the world.

SKZ Masterlist | Breathe, and Live | Touching Stars (TBZ teacher!au)

She tells him at precisely five fourteen in the afternoon, voice dead but panicked, on a crowded bus full of people, words crackling over the phone.

“Chan, I’m pregnant.”

The walls are silent. His laptop, too, since he paused the track to pick up the call. He can’t speak, can’t breathe. It deafens him. It squeezes at his head, pounds against his temples, fills his ears with static buzzing.

His vision blurs. Something rises in his throat.

Chan thinks he might throw up.

How? his mind screams. He’s always been careful, always used a condom. She takes birth control, takes the pill every morning after. It doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t fucking make sense.

But you can never be sure, the rational part of his brain unhelpfully supplies.

The droning voice of his old sex-ed teacher back in Australia fills his mind. “The only way to be sure is to practice abstinence.”

Back then, he’d snorted quietly in the back with his friends, elbowed them and smirked and didn’t bother paying attention to the rest of the lecture. What was the point, anyway? Chan may not be as cautious as his parents – the impulse decision to stay in Korea for university, even after his family moved back, is proof of that – but he’s tried to be careful with this. Cautious, respectful, caring.

That kind of thing would never happen to him.

Somewhere, somehow, he hears her saying his name. Between the noise in the background and the ringing in his ears, it’s muffled. Disjointed.

“Okay,” he manages to choke out. “Okay.”

What else can he say?

Her voice sounds hoarse now, even over the tinny phone speakers. She’s crying, or on the verge of it – Chan’s known her long enough recognize the catch in her words that signals the lump in her throat. “I – Chan, I don’t –” She gasps. “I don’t think I want to keep it.”

It takes a moment to understand. But the minute he does, there’s only horror. Sharp, clear, precise. It pierces his chest, breaking through the foggy cloud of his brain.

He wants to scream, yell at her, how could she think of that? How could she not want to keep the child that’s depending on her?

But his sister’s voice cuts through his swirling thoughts. “No uterus, no opinion.” Hannah’s dark eyes, quiet but challenging, flash across the restaurant table, voice cutting through the debate going on across from her. “You don’t own anyone’s body but your own.”

He’d agreed then. He still agrees now.

So he takes a deep breath and tries to understand. They’re young. Stupid. He’s in his last year of university, she’s on a gap year. They’re barely old enough to function in society on their own. It’s understandable. And more importantly, it’s her body. Her choice.

Another deep breath, a bit shakier this time. He settles his mind. “Come home first,” he says quietly, trying to sound as reassuring as possible. “Come home first. We’ll talk about it then, okay?”

There’s a sniff on the other end. “Okay,” she breathes. “Okay.”

The call ends. Chan sits still for a moment, staring at some random section of the wall, thinking but not really seeing. The paint is peeling. The lights are glaring. The university studio, the place he thinks of essentially as a second home, suddenly feels cloistering. Unwelcoming. It feels like some disgusting, warped metaphor for his life.

He buries his head in his hands and tries to breathe.

. . .

Chan can barely face her parents. It’s not that he doesn’t want to. He really wants to tell things upfront, give them his apologies and promise that he’ll do anything to help them out, but they just look at him with smoldering, narrowed eyes. There’s no endearment in her mother’s expression anymore, no quiet pride in her father’s, as though he was another son. There’s only hatred. Disgust. Disappointment.

With a thick tongue and embarrassment coloring his face, he swears up and down that they used protection. She doesn’t say anything, just looks down with a sort of hopeless expression on her face and occasionally nods or shakes her head in accordance with what he’s saying.

They blame him. That much is certain. Privately, Chan thinks that’s a little unfair, but given that the woman bears the brunt of the pregnancy much more than the man, he lets it go. It’s understandable. After all, he blames himself a lot, too.

His parents act a little better. They’ve known him for all twenty-one years of his life, known how he always tries to treat people with respect, with care. Chan can still hear the disappointment and worry in their hushed voices over the phone, but it’s okay. It’s better than hatred.

She doesn’t want the child, she makes that clear. Her parents don’t want it either. They want to adopt it out.

On the other hand, Chan, well… it’s fucking hard. He’s barely finished with university, barely gotten started with his life. And he’s in the damn music industry. Unless he makes it big, there won’t be a lot of opportunities to sort out his life.

But he wants the child. Even though it’s going to be difficult taking care of her through the pregnancy, then making a path with the baby in tow, he wants it. He doesn’t want to give this up.

So they settle. She’ll have the baby. Once it’s born, she’ll take care of some of the bills if she can. Otherwise, Chan is the guardian.

It isn’t so bad, not at first. There’s the morning sickness to contend with, but they live together. It isn’t too hard for Chan to take some time to take care of her. They make the doctor’s trips together, and seven weeks into the pregnancy, they find out they’re having twins.

(Well, Chan is having twins. Her face screws up just the slightest amount, not in disgust but not in something nice either. Chan elects to ignore it and focuses on his own happiness.)

He works like a madman, sending off tracks to companies, submitting others for homework. He performs when he can, picking up any possible extra paychecks. She works, too, so money isn’t an issue yet. Chan also thanks all the higher beings above that she’s on a gap year, so he’s the only one adding homework to the equation.

The storm starts brewing in the fifth or sixth month, maybe. They’re having two boys, and they like to remind her that they’re there. She doesn’t feel well a lot of the time and has the crankiness to prove it. Still, she helps when she doesn’t have cramps, though she does complain about the weight gain.

But the number of nights where they’re up at odd hours only increases. The boys like to kick. Their mother wants to scream. Chan doesn’t even think he has a brain at this point – any cells up in his head have just been pounded to mush.

On one bad night, when she’s almost crying of exhaustion and the babies won’t stop fucking moving, Chan brings out his laptop. His fingers fly over the keyboard, tweaking soft beats, changing notes, composing a short little melody.

It’s rough, nothing substantial, something completely opposite from the polished tracks he makes for class. No lyrics. There’s just a simple piano melody backed by some guitar chords and it’s probably not going to do anything to help but Chan’s this close to just ripping out his hair and screaming for the entire city of Seoul to hear. He has to try something.

He almost deletes the track by mistake and has a mini heart attack, but he saves it with shaking fingers and brings the laptop over to the bed. She’s lying there, hair a mess, eyes red, but there’s some relief in her gaze as he puts the device on the sheets next to her and hits play.

It works. It fucking works. The babies slowly stop kicking, and she eventually falls asleep.

For just a moment, Chan sits on the edge of the bed and takes in the calm, soaks in the silence broken only by the track playing softly in the background. He rubs his eyes once, twice, clears the fog that obscured his vision.

Maybe he can do this. Maybe he can raise these two kids, even if he’s the only parent they have. Maybe there’s the tiniest fucking chance in the world that he can really be a good father, someone for his children to look up to and love. Maybe there’s a chance that he can really have this family.

Four months later, she gives birth to two healthy baby boys. Jisung is born first at 11:58 p.m. on September 14, while Yongbok comes next at 12:11 a.m. on September 15.

Chan holds them close as soon as he’s able, in awe of their tiny faces, their tiny limbs and tiny eyes.

How did he manage to create such life?

“Give them English names,” she says tiredly, her voice barely a whisper. She looks at them too, a bit sadly, with some care, but distantly. “They’re yours.”

A tinge of bitterness spikes in his chest, but it dissolves as he looks back into the faces of his two boys. She’s right. They are his. So he decides on Peter for the baby beginning to wake on his left arm, and Felix for the boy still sleeping soundly on his right.

She’s up and out of the hospital in a matter of days. A week later, she moves back into her parents’ home, leaving Chan standing in the doorway of their apartment, two babies in his arms.

“We’ll make it together,” he whispers, watching her car disappear down the street. “Together.”

Jisung makes a little gurgling sound. Felix scrunches his nose.

The tiniest of smiles slides across Chan’s face. Yes. They’ll make it together.

He takes a breath, then heads back inside.

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 prayer for Chan, he’s going to need it :/)

#inkidz #starryktown #stray kids #skz #stray kids chan #chan #skz chan #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #stray kids oneshots #stray kids imagines #stray kids chan scenarios #skz chan scenarios #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids chan x reader #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #fluff #angst #single parent!au #breathe and live #prologue (chan) #scriptura-delirus

[gryffindors-weasley]

Lover

Ron Weasley x Reader

Summary: After a day of unpacking and delving into memories, a moment of fondness is shared with your lover.

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: mentions of food, fluff fluff fluff, kissing

A/N: This is my fic for @gcdric ’s Taylor Swift writing challenge! It’s based off of the song ‘Lover’. Lyrics I’ve used will be bolded and italicized!

The day was quite perfect, you must admit; almost as if it’d been just so in correspondence with your plans. The late afternoon sunshine cast warmly across your skin, beaming bright before the clouds sweep over it fleetingly only to return just as glowing as before.

It was beautiful as you stood in front of the little cottage before you. You must have gone back to do so a thousand times by that point, but it was an act all too irresistible as you gazed at it, hand enveloped in Ron’s. It was your house.

It stood much shorter than the Burrow, most anything was now that you thought about it, but it radiated the same kind of warmth nonetheless. Wildflowers sprinkled and flourished tall and bright amongst the grass in patches of blues and yellows and reds, sprouted up from around the edges of the cracked stone slab pathway leading to a very golden yellow front door. The roof bowed inward a bit at the center, a chimney standing on the far left side of the sweet little home.

Moss and vines had mingled and curled up the side of the stone house, swirling around the door and curving around the window above it on the second floor. A small set of matching yellow benches had sat on either side of the door, its paint chipped and worn with use, telling of their exposure to the elements, but you think you like them better that way. Perhaps your favorite part was the wind chimes that still remained, singing softly each time the wind had pushed them together. It was all encompassed by a wooden sage green fenced, the numbers of your address stamped on a metal oval slab fixed to the very front. You could have asked for a better place to live with the love of your life, it was entirely more perfect than you could have imagined it to be.

Even with the beauty and dream come true standing right in front of him, Ron still couldn’t manage to hold his gaze on anything but you. With the four times you had come to the very end of the walkway to admire just what your fate had been, he found himself looking at you each and every time. He always did that when you were around, and he always would. When you’d catch him doing just that, the crimson burning in his cheeks was expected and far too worth it, for your smile melted his heart when you casted it upon him.

His hand squeezed your own as he smiled, taking a moment to admire the soft smile you held as you looked at your very first home, your forever home. And the way your gaze bounced around every little detail and every little flower. He took one last look before his smile widened at his next words.

“Love, we’ll be unpacking clear into next month if we come back out here a fifth time,” he quips, your own grin widening as you turn your head and look at him.

“Be quiet, Ronald, or there just might be a sixth,” you counter with a smile so sweet his heart nearly leaped out of his chest right then and there. But rather than gushing over you he simply scrunches his nose in response to the use of his full name, in response to your lighthearted teasing he so fully loved.

He’s got no time to gaze at you a moment longer as you squeeze his hand, tugging him along the stone path to the front door and slipping inside the house as your laughter trails behind.

Box after box littered almost every surface you could think of, the only thing of use having been the mismatched furniture dotting around the living room and kitchen, and the unmade bed upstairs. Most of the boxes had been opened simply to see what was inside before they’d been left in favor of looking in another or sharing a kiss far too distracting. Some of said boxes had been dented, their corners pushed in from when Ron and Fred had dropped them, but it’d been far too amusing to hold even a drop of anger about it. Unbeknownst to you it’d been your very lover’s fault, having been so caught up and fawning over the way you’d twirled in the living room, the breeze catching in your hair and a smile on your lips—so caught up he’d stopped abruptly and promptly got run into by his brother following just behind him.

The laughter that left your lips was much too worth it for him to care about most anything else, especially Fred’s grumbling and swat to the back of his head. Okay, maybe he’d interrupted his adoration to toss a glare in his older brother’s direction.

A gasp sounded from you and pulled his attention, and he watched as you pulled something out of a box labeled ‘Miscellaneous’. In your hand was a very crooked and poorly taped wand, a thin layer of dust coated on it. He hadn’t used it in quite a while, having gotten a new one that has yet to be broken, yet to be encountered by the Whomping Willow.

“You saved it?” He asks, laughter in his words.

“Of course I did. How else would we honor the very first time you stole your dad’s car?” You tease, tapping it against the very tip of his nose. While his heart fluttered at the thought that you’d pulled it from the trash and saved it, he snatched it from your hand with a frown soon turned to a smile.

“It doesn’t really work anymore, you know,” he says, brushing his thumb over the tape he’d put there just over a decade ago.

“Maybe it’s just the user and not the wand,” you quip, his eyes narrowing at you as you stifle a laugh.

“No way!” He raises the bent wand his eyes fixed on the lamp seated on a small table by the window. “Wingardium Leviosa.”

The spell is spoken with the utmost of concentration, the lamp in question rising very wobbly off the table before clattering unceremoniously to the floor. He flinches at the dreadful noise and you couldn’t fight your laugh any longer as you stole it back from his hand.

“Reparo!” You state, watching as each broken shard had mended with its matching piece, each fitting together so perfectly it’s like it’d never been broken at all.

Ron bites the inside of his cheek at the sight of your triumphant smile. You were right, you were always right. But, with a simple movement of his hand and a glowing orange beam of light, you found yourself pulled to him with ease, Carpe Retractum falling from his lips.

“I’m quite better at magic than you think, love,” he murmurs, smiling against your lips as you kiss him.

Your laughter puffed against his lips as you kissed him once more, spinning from his embrace much to his dismay in favor of digging through more boxes. “If you insist.”

He hadn’t missed the smile that had accompanied your teasing words, and you hadn’t missed his, and he was tempted to utter that spell once more just so he could kiss you again for far longer than just a mere moment. In fact, to do so until the end of time seemed perfectly well to him.

You pulled back a flap of another cardboard box that had yet to be labeled, smiling at the sight. You tugged the tangled clump of Christmas lights out, it’s cord thoroughly, knotted and woven with itself in what surely will be a pain come time to hang them up. In that moment, the thought hadn’t bothered you quite as much as it assuredly would in three month’s time, your smile beaming and bright.

“You kept these?” You ask, mimicking his earlier tone. He chuckles, nodding as he fumbled with the end of the cord that hadn’t been so terribly mangled.

“Christmas lights are essential to the holiday season, you know,” he defends. Regardless of your playful teasing, you knew just how much he liked them when it came time for the festive spirit. Well, they came second only to the assortment of cookies made every year without fail. “I suppose we can leave them up for as long as we want to now, can’t we?”

“This is our place, we make the rules.”

He smiled at the very thought, you both shared the same smile for that matter, and you knew for a fact that you’d been thinking of the same thing. You could make the rules. You could stay up past midnight to read without complaint of the glow of the lamps light streaming through floorboards and waking one of his siblings. He could practice quidditch with you in your very own backyard without his mother worrying over you both from the sidelines, though you’d done a well enough job worrying over him when she’s not around. Ice cream can be had for breakfast and breakfast can be had for dinner, dishes can be left in the sink and you can sleep in together till however late you wanted.

“Yeah,” he smiles, “yeah, we can.”

He takes a moment to look around the small living room, at the bookshelves encompassing nearly the entirety of the far wall. You’d filled that readily with your shared books, taking little effort to fill the old wooden shelves with stories read at least two times over. Scattered amongst them sat picture frames and trinkets, photographs of the two of you so gingerly placed behind glass frames to display a moment forever captured. Some of them were polaroids labeled haphazardly with the date they’d been taken, a brief caption scrawled at the bottom. Some of them had been family pictures taken by his mother, gifted to him for the time the day had come that you two could display them in your own home and you most certainly did.

Tiny treasures sat amongst them—bookmarks still tucked in books, little gifts from hogsmeade tucked atop shelves. Even the since emptied bottle of broom oil you’d gotten him for his birthday in fifth year. You knew he’d been eagerly excited to be a part of the quidditch team, his dreams of being a keeper rapidly becoming more than just dreams. He opened that little gift and saw that little bottle, something that might have seemed so awfully simple and practical to just anyone else. But the thought behind it was something more than just simple and more than just practical, even if your shared feelings hadn’t been known just yet. So there, in front of old books and photos, sat a little glass bottle, it’s label worn and faded as dregs of broom oil sat at the bottom.

He looked to the couch, it’s fabric frayed and worn in a few spots and edges. His cherished Chudley blanket taken from his childhood bed lay strewn across the back of the checkered material. The blanket you made after you insisted you could crochet lay splayed beside it, put together in uneven squares of colors that didn’t match as much as you’d hoped. Regardless of the outcome, Molly had been quite proud of it, and she adored the time well spent with you in the making of it.

He thought of how Harry could come and stay the night, for old times sake, Hermione too. There weren’t any guest bedrooms, so the living room would have to suffice. The couch and the loveseat hadn’t been too terribly comforting for slumber, but you suppose with a few extra pillows and blankets it’d be just fine. They never seemed to be one to complain anyway, always simply happy to spend time as a group without worry of danger or life changing events anymore. That very moment was put behind you six, nearly seven years prior.

It was fine, and everything was okay.

Your gasp had pulled him from his thoughts once more, his gaze finding you as you tugged his old quidditch sweater from a box labeled ‘Important: Do Not Lose’.

It was torn at the collar and a few strings of yarn had been pulled free from their stitching, and certainly it was washed more than a few times to rid it of its smell. You loved the tattered thing to pieces, he knew that. He knew from the very first moment you’d worn it that it’d been more than just a sweater to you. He remembers the way you smiled upon slipping it over your head, and the way you let the cuffs curl over your hands. He remembers the way you nuzzled into it that very night, the smell of cinnamon and a bit of his cologne still lingering on the fabric. He knew from that very first moment that it wouldn’t be the last time you’d stolen it from him, he knew you loved it and for that very reason he’d stopped his mother from turning it into a commemorative blanket.

You pulled it over your head, that very same smile on your face as there always was when you wore it. It hung from your shoulders in heaps of maroon and golden yellow, effectively staving off the cool September breeze. He’d had plenty more quidditch sweaters and jerseys considering his once fond hobby had turned to a career, but none of them seemed to hold as much sentiment as this.

He couldn’t help the way his heart swelled with pride when you wore it, when he thought of just how proud you’d always been. Even when he hadn’t had a successful match, even when he hadn’t been at the top of his game—you still cheered for him fiercely and boasted so highly of him that his cheeks burned at the mere thought. Whether it was just the two of you on the quidditch pitch the night before a match against Slytherin or it was from the stands at a match hours from home, you had always done it.

You looked so utterly beautiful, so completely radiant he felt his heart just might burst in his chest should you be anymore ethereal. He hadn’t known how he’d gotten quite so lucky, but he had.

You look to Ron across the unfinished living room, his smile soft and beaming and focused entirely on you.

“What is it?” You ask, laughing softly as your cheeks flush under his gaze, your hands smoothing over the yarn. The look on his face then is photo worthy, but holding it in your memory will have to suffice.

“Dance with me?”

Your smile widened, heart hammering in your chest with lovestruck excitement at the mere thought of it. Not to mention the grin tugging so cutely at the corners of his mouth that made it absolutely impossible to keep from mirroring it. It was often that Ron Weasley’s actions spoke far louder than words, that a simple look could declare a thousand ‘I love you’s’. It was then, in that very moment as he stood contently amongst a dozen boxes yet to be unpacked, that the look he so lovingly held just might’ve spoken a million.

You walk to him without a second’s hesitation and take his offered hand, squealing when he pulls you close. His own laughter soon fills the room as he twirls you once, twice, the action wonderfully dizzying as you settle into a rhythm not quite in sync with each other. His smile was beaming and bright as the sun streamed into the room, everything it landed on golden and orange.

“Ron Weasley, I thought you hated dancing?” You say, your smile just as teasing as your words.

“People change, right?” He shrugs, quick to rain a flurry of kisses across your flushed cheek as his laughter presses into your skin. That is, until he’d parted from you just enough for you to see a glimpse of realization cross his face. “Don’t tell my brothers.”

Your laughter is immediate as you kiss him, his brief moment of panic simmering into a smile that’s nearly too fond for his own good. “I can’t make any guarantees.”

He groans in protest against your very kiss, lifting you up to spin you in his arms in the sweetest of retaliations. Somehow, he believes the lifetime of teasing from his brothers would be entirely worth it if only to see you smile, if only to hear you laugh.

“I’m only kidding, my love,” you giggle, brushing the hair out of his eyes.

“Yeah yeah, sure,” he grins, kissing down your cheek.

Can I go where you go?

This very moment was one that’d stick with him for the rest of his life, happily, one that he’d get to live each and every day and the thought alone was unbelievable. It was your house, your home, a place entirely the perfect fit for the two of you to flourish and thrive and spend for seasons in. It was a culmination of the very things that made the two of you who you are.

Truthfully, he’d follow you anywhere without hesitation. He’d travel to the very ends of the earth if it meant he’d be with you, and you the same. He knew since he was sixteen that he’d wanted to be wherever you were and wherever you will be. He hadn’t thought at the time that he’d wind up in a home amongst the rolling hills, tucked away to yourselves. He hadn’t thought he’d even have the nerve to tell you he loves you. His future had been far brighter than he could have ever imagined it to be.

And you, you were right where you wanted to be, right where you needed to be. Ron Weasley was the love of your life, a dull moment never shared. You felt you could do just about anything so long as he was with you, go anywhere so long as he was there. He was loving, he was kind, he was true.

Can we always be this close?

The laughter had since dulled to breathy sighs and soft smiles, a gesture you’re very aware of when you lift your gaze to look up at him once more. A smile that’s shared most tenderly in the close proximity, noses brushing and breath sweeping warmly over lips. It was then that you lean on your toes and kiss him, his very grip on your hand tightening a fraction and your swaying becoming distracted and stilled. His smile was immediate against your lips, telling of just how profoundly giddy you’d made him, how wholeheartedly he loved you.

“Bloody hell,” he whispers, his lips brushing over yours as he kisses you once more. The softness of his laughter dances across your skin, his forehead resting on yours as he makes no effort to hide his smile. “I love you. I really, really love you.”

Your nose scrunches against his and your own smile widens and soon you find yourself kissing the very tip of his nose, his cupid’s bow, his lips. The warmth blossoming in your chest is a feeling most unbeatable to all else; it was love. It lanced through you with certainty and settled permanently within your heart, a feeling so frighteningly wonderful, and so dizzying in its wake.

The two of you began to sway softly again to music unheard, hands clasped as your other rests on his chest as the sun dips lower in the sky, the long yet happy day soon to be put behind you. One more kiss is pressed to his cheek before you dip your head to rest on his shoulder, your eyes fluttering closed with all the contentment in the world. And softly, you murmur, “I love you. I really, really love you.”

You’re my, my, my, my,

Lover.

—

Tags: @anchoeritic @vogueweasley @ch0colatefr0gs @amourtentiaa @hahee154hq @snitches-at-dawn @dracosathenaeum @harrysweasleys @awritingtree @writeroutoftime

#laniestaylorswiftwc #ron weasley #ron weasley one shot #ron weasley fanfiction #ron weasley x reader #ron weasley x you #ron weasley fluff #ron weasley fic #ron weasley headcanon #ron weasly imagine

[ateezmakemeweep]

badboy!yeosang

word count: 18k

angst, fluff, smut

to this day, no one exactly knows what sparked the rivalry between the north side high school and south side high school. it seemed as if something that was just always present in the small town, with your parents and their parents and maybe even their parent's parents dealing with the tension had the two buildings been around back then.

whether it was between students personally, sports teams winning streaks, or academic scores, the two schools, centered in the same town only a few blocks away from one another, were always neck and neck. and it made socializing somewhat troublesome, always running into enemies and rivals you didn't even have a solid reason for disliking.

it was even more troublesome when brave students looked passed the silly, unknown rivalry, merging friend groups from north and south into one cohesive friend group. this isn't something you had ever done personally, sticking with the north side boys and girls you had known since elementary school.

but then one friday night party held at a friendly 'northerns' house changed everything, you and your friends walking in to see lots of unfamiliar faces.

"don't tell me she invited those scumbags," you friend bites harshly, immediately eyeing anyone and everyone she didn't recognize. 

"of course she did, she's like best friend's with all of them," your other friend scoffs, eyes roaming for the host so she can ask her what the hell she was thinking inviting this many people.

"why does it even matter?" you ask quietly. because while you've never set out to make friends with people from the other school, you also wouldn't be opposed. because until someone gives you a reason to dislike them, you're not gonna base your opinion off a group of people on some nonsensical history of hate.

"you're joking, right?" you hear your friend's high pitched voice whine, "they're literal scum. they come to our parties and try to fight everyone! they trash their school and talk back to the teachers! they're delinquents! do you know how many people get kicked out of that school a year?"

you eye the entire bottle of vodka in her hand, knowing all too well she also has a stash of weed she stole from her sister in her backpack. "delinquents, huh?"

her eyes narrow at your sarcasm, pushing your arm lightly. "okay, sorry we're all not goody too shoes like you mrs. i would never drink or smoke," she says mockingly.

you can't help the smirk that crosses your face at her bitter, snappy tone until it quickly falls when you catch a familiar pair of eyes across the room.

"oh, fuck my life..."

your older brother (but barely, you're less than a year apart for gods sake) catches your gaze and nods his head at you. you can't help but laugh internally at the irony of your friend calling the south side students delinquents when that boy right there attends your school.

because you had never met a more problematic person, always ready to pick a fight or start drama for no other reason than he just loves the thrill of it. loves the repartee back and forth before an abrupt, chaotic brawl of fists and kicks sends people into a panic.

he even loved it when you were kids, always pulling your hair and littering you in bruises that left your skin covered purple and blue more often than not; but it only got worse as he got older - luckily he had learned to spare you and other females.

it had gotten to the point where your parents almost insist you now go to every party and outing he's at, hoping that he'll curb his behavior in front of his little sister.

but no such luck because only an hour into it and you see him eyeing a group of south side boys, making his way up to them causing all of their stances to immediately stiffen. everyone has shifted into slight defense, narrowed eyes and snarled lips and a part of you watches in hopes that it'll die down.

but then you see two boys push their way forward, standing toe to toe with your brother and his friend before you stomp over.

"changbin," you growl lowly, arms folded over your chest in an attempt to look threatening. but it only causes him to laugh slightly, the boys behind you falling silent at your arrival.

"what do you want, y/n?"

"don't talk to me like that," you snap. because he's notorious for being extra snippy with you in front of his friends, like he's cool for being mean to you when you're almost always there to babysit him.

"yeah, don't talk to her like that," one of the south side boys says mockingly. you don't even bother turning around to shoot him a dirty look, grabbing changbin roughly by the arm and over to the less crowded corner.

"what is your problem?" the boy laughs out, knocking into you playfully.

"what do you think my problem is?" you ask him dully. "i know you're trying to start shit with them."

"me? start shit?" he quips sarcastically, "never."

you roll your eyes, not at all amused by him. because it's a miracle you haven't gotten hit or punched yourself from the amount of times you've broken up one of his many fights. and he doesn't even see that that's an issue.

"changbin, i'm serious!" you tell him adamently, "if i have to split up another fight-"

"okay, well, who the hell said you have to do that in the first place?" he asks, the slightest hint of annoyance seeping into his tone.

"mom and dad will get mad at both of us," you spit, "especially dad. and i don't need that." because afterall, changbin's anger and love of fighting didn't just fall out of the sky.

"whatever," he says, "just stay out of it. i'll tell them you tried, how 'bout that? so they don't get mad at their perfect little daughter."

you narrow your eyes at him, swallowing down the desire to tell him to fuck off before he cockily saunters back over to his friends. you stand there and watch him for a few seconds, the boy who mocked you peering over at you. your eyes linger on each other for a few seconds, his curious gaze roaming your face and body before a smirk plays at his lips. you rip your eyes away, escaping the loud voices and tension-filled stares in the safety of the bathroom.

you don't even know why you come to these parties anymore. you never really had fun at them, being surrounded by your drunken classmates who make out right in front of you after swearing they'd never do it again. and anytime your brother was in attendance, it added a whole new level of irritation.

because why should you watch him and keep him from being an idiot? put yourself in danger to stop his stupid, childish outbursts? you grip the sink in frustration, peering at our own reflection and wanting to laugh at how unhinged you look.

you take a few deep breaths, flushing the toilet and letting the faucet run so it at least seemed as if you were using the bathroom and not on the verge of a mental breakdown.

and thank god you did because you take three steps before you're cornered by the mysterious mocking boy with curious eyes. he blocks your path with a smirk, arms crossed over his chest as his gaze pierces down at you.

you look up at him and raise your eyebrow when he doesn't speak, just stands there and holds your eye contact.

"can i help you?" you ask, not being able to hold back the irritation that drips in your tone.

"your boyfriend's a bit of a dick, huh?"

a look of confusion crosses your face causing his head to turn ever so slightly. you haven't had a boyfriend a day in your life but you're as hell not about the to tell this strange boy that. "what are you talking about?"

his neck cranes back and nods toward changbin who you see thankfully has gone back over to his corner before looking back at you. "changbin. i think that's what you said his name was?"

a gag leaves your mouth as you shake your head frantically. "oh god, no! that's- that's my brother."

"ah, your brother," he hums, like he's genuinely fascinated by that revelation. "so what, you hang around and make sure he doesn't get in trouble?"

the condescending way in which poses the question causes your eyes to narrow, now matching his stance with folded arms and an overall cold demeanor.

"yeah because trouble always seems to start when you people come around." and even though you hadn't believed it an hour ago, there's something about this boy that's making you incredibly defensive and annoyed.

a breathy chuckle leaves his mouth as he takes a step closer to you, your eyes widening slightly when your back hits the wall. he stares down at you with a dark look in his eye, the teasing glint the only thing not making you feel nervous.

"us people?" he hums lowly, "and what kind of people is that?"

"i don't know, i hear you guys start a lot of shit," you say boldly despite being trapped, "deliquents, was the word used. and i see there might be some truth to that."

"that's funny, babe, because your brother was the one who approached us," he says calmly.

you purse your lips to the side, breaking the incessant eye contact to search for your friends. but of course, both of them are already lip-locked with their newest prospects of the night and not at all concerned about your whereabouts; which they shouldn't be, you suppose, but you could really use some assistance right now.

his throat clearing above causes you to look up at him again, pushing yourself further back into the wall.

"well, if he starts something," you say, voice changing into something unnaturally soft and sweet, "can you guys just ignore him? please?"

an amused look crosses his face, a sarcastic smile on his pretty, red lips. "oh? please?" he hums, "so you're gonna be nice, now?"

an annoyed huff leaves your mouth, reluctantly bringing your hands to this stranger's chest and pushing him back. "no, i'll be leaving you now," you say and leave you do, not once turning around to look at him as you make your way over to the other side of the room.

he watches you take a bottle of water out of the cooler before plopping down on the couch, phone in hand as you tap the screen. it lights up your face in the dimly lit room and he hates to admit that you really are pretty, a girl he'd typically seek out at a party like this and hope to end up making out with. he hums curiously before making his way back to his friends, seonghwa's eyes catching his.

"who were you talking to?"

"that loser's sister," he says quietly which causes hongjoong's head to perk up. "sister?" him and seonghwa both say at the same time; they had all really assumed you were his girlfriend.

"yup," he says, looking up to see you haven't changed positions. "she's...feisty."

"yeosang..." seonghwa says warningly, knowing all too well how the boy uses his smoldering looks and unique charm to reel girl's in.

"what," he chuckles out, meeting his friend's gaze. "i didn't do anything."

"that doesn't mean you won't," seonghwa mumbles, shaking his head at the boy.

"you know me too well, hwa," he says, patting his arm roughly before he meets changbin's glare. "you know me too well."

tense gazes and snarls only heightened throughout the night, the north side boys shouting from across the room while the south side boys just stood around quietly, plotting and preparing for a phyical fight if it was going to come down to it.

and of course, it did. you had watched it all unfold, watched your brother's friends make the first move when they got wind that a south side boy by the name of jongho started talking to one of the girls.

she was there one minute, flirting and talking friendly before the boy slightly pushed her out of the way upon seeing them charge forward, screams of profanities in one another's faces that were far too dramatic for the circumstances.

it was all just a pissing contest really, each side of boys trying to prove who was tougher and cooler when really they both just looked like fools. but you suppose you were the biggest fool, watching changbin barrel his way through the crowd and getting in the face of the black-haired boy.

"so you're the little bitch, huh?" you hear his voice bite, shooting up from your spot on the couch immediately. "i really think you guys are forgetting-"

"changbin, stop," you say lowly, going up behind him to grab the back of his shirt. but it's like you're a ghost, he doesn't even feel your presence or touch, just continues to talk shit to the boy until he draws his arm back and punches him square in the face.

"changbin!" you shout over the crowd of oohs and ahhs, onlookers with their phones out and only a few other people trying to split it up. he gets in three more punches, loud cracks while his friend's fight off the other boys and try to help you in getting your brother away from him.

"get the fuck away from me, y/n," he growls, drawing his arm back to push you backwards. his hand meets your stomach probably a bit harsher than he intended, your body stumbling back causing you to nearly fall onto the glass table.

you watch in a daze as the boy you talked to before stomps his way over to changbin, gripping him by collar and picking him off his bloody friend.

"don't touch my friend or your sister like that," he growls, tightening his hold on the boy's shirt before pushing him away from them.

"how 'bout you don't tell me what-"

"stop!" you screech, grabbing him roughly by the arm and making your way toward the front door. "just stop already, changbin!"

you throw him down in the front seat of your car before promptly locking him in, telling him you're going to get your stuff and that he better not leave the car. you run back in to the chaos, the group of south side boys huddled around the injured boy you've gathered is jongho.

you grab your bag before making your way over, kneeling down to see the boy's blooded face.

"i'm so sorry about him," you tell him quietly, wincing as you see the blood trickle down to his mouth.

"just get away from us," one of them says.

"wooyoung, she didn't-"

"no, san, this is their fault," he growls, helping jongho to his feet and dapping at his face. you can only sigh, offering one last quiet apology before making your way back outside.

"i can't believe them, that crazy asshole," jongho snaps, eyeing himself in the mirror of hongjoong's basement apartment.

his parents had made the space for him when he started high school, first just to get him out of their hair and allow them a good night's rest away from his long nights of playing guitar or typing on his computer. but then it quickly transformed into basically housing the seven other boys, beds littered in the ample amount of rooms down there so the group of eight best friends could live together almost 24/7.

"we'll get them back," wooyoung says from the couch, leg still bouncing from the adrenaline. "they can't get away with this."

"his sister tried to apologize," san points out softly, bringing over band-aids and alcohol.

"that was just to save face," yeosang says near the open window, his lit cigarette hanging outside, "she was quick to call us out for being quote-unquote 'delinquents.'"

"oh jesus christ," hongjoong grumbles, "i mean seriously, what is their problem? we're all the same."

"he started it in the first place," mingi snaps before yunho adds, "exactly. and apparently, that kid fights everyone."

jongho hisses when seonghwa accidentally grazes the bruise on his face, all the boys heads snapping toward him with sympathy in their eyes. "well he's a little psycho who needs to be humbled," the bruised, bloody boy says.

yeosang listens to his friends conversation silently as he inhales the smoke, holding it and letting it burn as he tries to concoct a plan. because it'd be easy to get revenge on changbin himself, jump him at the next party with their fists and stomping feet the way they always do to people who deserve it.

but where's the fun in that when he has a feisty little sister who's already peeked his interest?

yeosang exhales, the smoke swirling out of the window before he puts the cigarette out in the dirt. "i have an idea," he says, the seven other boys turning their attention to the smirking boy with an all too familiar look in his eye.

ironically enough, your part-time job at a small bakery is where you find the most solace. there's no stress from annoying teachers or piles of schoolwork like at school or fighting parents and an obnoxious brother at home.

instead, it's just the fresh smell of pastries and bread, the occasional ding of the bell welcoming in customers and the soft hum of 50s music playing through the speakers. your boss is also the owner, a tiny but incredibly sweet woman who has yet to tell you her age but you have to assume is in her early 70s.

"thank you for coming!" you chirp happily, eyeing the little girl who you slipped in an extra chocolate chip cookie for, "enjoy!"

the mother and daughter walk out, your eyes following them as the little girl eagerly clings to her mom for the dessert. you smile softly before sighing, going over to wipe off the few tables by the front window.

you hum along to elvis presley's version of hound dog, bobbing your head side to side as you wipe down tables and push in chairs. your hips begin to wiggle slightly as the guitar solo starts and unbeknownst to you, someone had been watching you from the window; you hear the familiar ding of the door opening a few seconds later.

"i'll be with you in a second," you call out, wiping down the last table before turning around; your friendly, customer-service smile falls immediately upon seeing a familiar pair of teasing, brown eyes.

"hello again," he says, looking over your uniform that is a pastel pink apron with smiling cupcakes plastered over it. "how cute."

"what- what are you doing here?" you stutter out, standing a few feet away from him. he smirks upon hearing your nervousness, taking three steps closer to you so he can properly look at you.

"isn't it obvious? i'm looking for something... sweet," he says, the smirk crossing his face as he looks at you causing your eyes to roll. this guy can not be serious.

you ignore his stupid words, pushing passed him and behind the register to take his order. "then what can i get you?"

"hmm, well i don't know," his deep voice hums, looking over the glass counter before meeting your gaze. "what do you recommend?"

you bite your tongue, figuring a yelp review of 'the girl behind the register suggested a foot up the ass' would be bad for business; so you smile through gritted teeth as you tell him the chocolate mousse cake is a customer favorite.

"but what do you like?" he asks, propping his elbow on the counter and smiling cockily at you. because he really couldn't believe his luck, that he just happened to pass your workplace the day after the party. he figured it was gonna take time, having to wait to see you next weekend or ask around at school.

"i don't like sweets," is all you say. because it's not a lie. and if you did, you certainly wouldn't work at a bakery.

"not at all?" he asks.

"not at all."

"well then what would you recommend to someone healing from a fight?" he asks, "because, you know, my friend got pretty messed up last night."

your face falls upon the mention of the boy, your heart tugging a bit because you always feel bad for the people you have to pull your brother away from. and last night wasn't the first time someone has gotten mad at you for it.

"is he okay?" you ask quietly, the soft concerned way in which you ask almost making him think you're genuine.

"he'll be fine," is all he says before that flirty, conniving look is back on his face. "so c'mon, babe, help a guy out here."

you sharply inhale so you don't start yelling at him, thinking to yourself before picking up a small white box and tray. yeosang watches you move around the bakery with ease, opening the small blue fridge before turning on a chocolate fountain.  

a few minutes later, you bring him a box with six chocolate-covered strawberries. "how's this?" you ask him, the sweet sarcasm dripping in your tone. he looks down at the fresh strawberries drizzled carefully in warm chocolate.

"now that is nice," he hums lowly.

"yeah, they're really good," you tell him, trying to act like he's any normal customer and not the boy from last night.

"oh?" he says, fumbling with the back of his jeans to grab his wallet. "i thought you didn't like sweets?"

"i don't but i like chocolate covered fruit," you mumble before telling him the price. he hands you a ten dollar bill, winking to keep the change before he turns to leave.

you almost let out a sigh of relief when he turns back around. "i don't think i ever got your name."

"that's because i didn't tell you," you snap sassily, his boyish chuckle filling the empty space.

"well, i'm yeosang," he says, walking back over to the register with his hand outstretched. you look down at it, ignoring the protruding veins and black rings adorned on his fingers, before your eyes meet again.

"that's nice."

his lips turn into a handsome smirk, licking his lips in a way that has your eyes quickly falling behind him to the people entering the store. "well, have a nice day, i hope you enjoy your-" you try to say when you meet his gaze again but he shakes his head.

"what's your name?"

"i have other customers," you mumble lowly, looking at him with wide eyes and a hot, fire growing in them.

"then i guess i'm just gonna have to call you babe," he says before his voice raises an octave. "it was nice seeing you again, babe! i hope to see you again ba-

"y/n," you snap, "my name's y/n."

"y/n," he repeats in his deep voice, letting it flow off his tongue. "that's pretty."

you narrow your eyes at him, eyeing the people behind him before he finally gets the hint. "i'll see you soon, y/n."

your eyes follow him out the door and catch his when he passes the window, smirking at you through the glass and throwing you a wink. he misses the sneer that crosses your face, letting out a sigh of relief when he's finally out of sight. you really hoping you won't be seeing him anytime soon.

much to your dismay, yeosang came in the next three saturdays. walking in with that stupid smirk on his face, clad in a leather jacket and boots making you shake your head at him.

"what are you doing here?" you asked again, similiar to the last week you had seen him. he had smiled slyly at you, insisting that the chocolate covered strawberries were so good, he couldn't help but get another batch.

"but this time, can i have ten?" you eye him wordlessly before drizzling ten strawberries, wrapping them nicely in a box for him.

"oh no, to stay," he says, "i was hoping you could help me eat them."

"excuse me?" you mutter. because he's more absurd than you thought if you really thinks you're gonna entertain his company and-

"eat them with me."

you looked at the boy in shock, shaking your head at his commanding tone as a scoff leaves your mouth.

"i'm working."

"you don't get a break?" he asks lowly.

"had it already," you respond, bending down to arrange the desserts you've fiddled with a hundred times already today.

"then eat with me later tonight."

your head nearly smacks into the display case in shock, eyebrows furrowed together before you jump up to see him with a serious expression.

"what?"

"go on a date with me."

a strangled laugh bubbles out of your mouth as you shake your head at him in bewilderment.

"and why on earth would i do that?" you ask him, "you don't even know me."

"but i want to," he says quietly, eyes roaming over your face in a way that makes you feel incredibly nervous. "and that's typically how people do it, right?"

you can only stare at him blankly, brain racing because where the hell did this come from? you barely know the kid, quite frankly find him rather irritating, and now he's here asking you on a date?

"i-i...why?"

"you....intrigue me," he says, "you follow around your asshole brother but you're actually a nice girl. you care about people even though you pretend to be all...feisty and jaded."

"wow, you got all that in our two meetings? impressive," you quip sarcastically, feeling far too exposed at his analysis. "and it probably isn't the best idea to call someone jaded when you're trying to ask them out on a date."

his laugh echoes through the pastel bakery, his eyes peering into yours with an unreadable expression. "see," he says, "and you make me laugh. i definitely wanna go on a date with you."

your eyes search his face for any hint of mockery or joking, very wary of this boy and the way he talks to you. because parts of you are screaming to go for it, that there's obviously something pulling you towards the boy just a little bit. that he gets you worked up and sometimes unable to meet his you gaze.

but you also barely know him and see behind his handsome smirk and piercing eyes that he's someone who could easily have you under his control.

so you're about to utter a no when a loud group of kids and adults come through the door, ripping you from his gaze and causing you to swallow the nervous lump in your throat.

"leave," you whisper to him before plastering on a smile, welcoming the new customers without a second glance back at yeosang who maybe finally got the hint when he retreats to the door.

but no such luck. because the saturday after that, he came in and ordered another ten strawberries to stay.

"i'm not gonna eat them with you," you mumble before the door behind you flies open, your little boss barely visible over the counter.

"y/n have you seen the- oh, hi, young man," she says to yeosang, a small smile on her face. he waves at her, a polite smile on his face that transforms him into a boy who looks like he belongs in church or on a school's debate team.

"hello. are you y/n's boss?" you hear him ask, causing your eyes to widen.

"why yes i am," she quips with a smile, patting you on the shoulder lovingly before she looks back at him. "why? she giving you trouble?"

"not at all, she's great," he says with a chuckle. "she even recommended the chocolate covered strawberries and they're delicious. but...i was kind of hoping to share them with her."

your eyes narrow at him, silently mouthing 'stop it' when a humming leaves the little old lady's mouth. "oh really? well, i don't believe she's taken her break yet. y/n, why don't you join him?"

"i took it before," you lie, keeping your cold gaze on yeosang so you miss the way the woman next to you is already trapped under his spell. the dejected smile on his face is what does her over, insisting you take a 20-minute break and share the delicious treats with him.

"i couldn't, mrs.-"

"you can and you will," she says before bringing her mouth to your ear. "or i will and i don't think he or my husband wants that."

you press yours lips together to surpress the laugh from bubbling out of your mouth, side eyeing her with an unsure expression as she quickly takes the apron off you. "go, go," she says, "i'll be on the register."

and so that's how you end up sitting across the table from yeosang, a box of strawberries between you both as you sit there with your arms crossed.

"are you happy now?" you ask him lowly, rolling your eyes as you watch him bite into the chocolate.

"very," he says, smirking when he sees you roll your eyes. "you know, i don't think i've given you a reason to dislike me so much."

you raise your eyebrow as your lips purse to the side, swallowing down the need to become defensive.

"oh no? this is the third saturday you've harassed me at work," you say, thinking about when he came in last week asking for samples, so many samples you ran out of spoons, before he just decided on the very dessert he's chowing down on now.

"visited," he gently corrects, biting his lip to hide his smile when an exasperated look crosses your face.

"okay, then what's it gonna take you for you to stop 'visiting' me? is this all you wanted?" you ask, gesturing between you both.

"no," he says, "i still want to go on a date with you."

you put your head in your hands frustratedly, rubbing over your eyes before looking right into his. and you can just tell from that, that he's not gonna be the type to let up. that he'll keep coming in every single saturday and spending $10 on fruit and chocolate until you agree.

so it's why you let out a sigh, pluck a strawberry from the box and bite into it before you grunt out "fine."

his eyebrows raise in surprise, tongue peeking out to lick over his lip. "really?"

"yes. one date," you say with finality, "and then you stop visiting me."

"deal," he says with a smirk before his eyes fall to your mouth. you swallow nervously at his gaze, watching his hand reach out before his thumb brushes over the corner of your lip.

he looks back at you, smirk still planted on his face when he sees the look on your face. "chocolate," he mumbles, "you work friday?"

you can only find it in yourself to nod your head, "till 8," you squeak out.

he smiles at you before standing up, pushing the box toward you before winking. "see you then," he says, waving goodbye to your boss who's been trying (but failing) to not make her staring too obvious.

you really, really hate to admit it but you were having fun. and that's saying a lot considering yeosang (and fine, maybe you too) just promptly got you guys kicked out of your date location. he had been outside your work place at 7:55, the loud tremble of his motorcycle whipping down the small street and alerting you of his arrival.

he walked in looking like the stereotypical bad boy, clad in usual leather but the singular pink rose in his hand a sharp contrast. your mouth dropped open in surprise, an awkwad giggle leaving your mouth because you hadn't expected that at all; in fact, you were half expecting him to forget all about it.

but you were really happy he didn't. you guys had a late dinner at a resturant a few blocks away, walking side-by-side in the cool night as you tell him about your shift and how long you've been working there.

he tells you that he lives with his seven friends in one of their basements, his boyish chuckle ringing in your ears over and over as he talks about them. he broke down your cold, slightly guarded exterior within the first hour and a half, now the both of you at an arcade as you try to beat each other at skee ball.

because you had been unbeatable at air hockey. at first, you both surely thought it was beginners luck but after four games, it really seemed as if it was you had a truly remarkable talent. one that he seems to have at skee ball.

"you're a cheater!" you squeal, hitting him in the arm playfully watching his ball swoop into the 10,000 points slot for the sixth time in a row.

"i'm not," he laughs out, looking down and smiling at the determination on your face as you stand in front of the board. you side-eye him before taking the ball in your hand, swinging your arm back and attempting to line it up directly with the top right side.

but just like every other time, it tips off the slot and clatters down to showcase a measly 1,000 points on the screen proudly. an annoyed groan leaves your mouth, the boy's chuckle next to you only making you look up in frustration.

"stop it," you whine. the pout on your face causes him to pop his neck nervously, a thought rushing to his mind to distract him before he quickly moves his eyes around the room.

"what're you doing?" you ask, watching his eyes roam suspiciously around the room.

"shh," he says, putting a finger to his lips before it twists into a smile. his arm wraps around your waist suddenly, causing a surprised squeal to leave your mouth when you feel your feet lift off the ground and onto the runway of the skee ball machine.

"yeosang!" you whisper-yell, like your figure standing tall in the machine isn't obvious enough.

"sh," he laughs out, placing a ball in your hand before tapping your hip. "go."

you look at him with wide eyes before they scan the room quickly, turning around and scurrying up the platform to throw the ball directly into the 10,000 point slot.

you run back with a smile, clapping your hands like you aren't the biggest cheater in this place and giggling when he plops you back down on the ground by your hips.

"there, we're even now," he says, looking at you with amusement in his light, brown eyes.

"so you were cheating!" you yelp, poking his chest lightly and feeling your heart stutter when his hand grabs it.

"no," he mumbles, "but i guess anything to keep you-"

"i saw that," a grouchy old worker tells you, her hair gray and thinning a sure sign this is the last place she wants to work. "do that again and you're out."

"sorry," you wince while yeosang begins to justify your actions. but you quickly elbow him, smiling politely at the lady before dragging him away from the skee ball machines.

"you weren't seriously gonna fight that lady," you say, voice laced with teasing and amusement.

"she interupted our date," he says lowly causing your eyes to roll as you lead him back toward the air hockey table. "it's annoying when people interrupt you when you're busy, huh? like at work, per se."

"oh shut up," he mumbles, squeezing his hand in yours that you had completely forgotten about. "because it doesn't seem like you'd mind now, hm?"

you rip your hand away quickly, mumbling "shut up" as heat rises to your cheeks. he grabs you again by the waist before you can leave, turning you in his hold to get a good look at the shy, flustered look on your face.

"look how pink you are," he says, hand grazing your cheek with a smile.

"stop it and let me go!" you squeak out, even more embarrassed as you wriggle in his hold.

"what if i don't want to?" he mumbles, words whispered as he brings his mouth to your ear. "what if i like seeing you a little flustered and blushing for me?"

you swallow down the lump that's quickly formed in your throat, giving yourself a few seconds to calm down and forget about his breath fanning over your skin before you push him away.

"then that's unfortunate for you," you snap, "now let's play."

his loud cackle booms through the noisy arcade, shaking his head before he confesses he let you win the whole time. you let out a scoff, the two of you arguing back and forth as you play which is what, you're convinced, led you to lose.

so you play four more games, all of them neck and neck until he easily scores the winning shot every single time. but the last game had really gotten to you, causing you in a fit of competetive rage to throw yourself on the table with a yelp of "no!"

he watches in amusement as your arm stretches to grab his puck, teasingly moving it back and forth in his hand as all of your internal organs slowly get crushed. you grumble pleas to "stop" and "give it to you" to which he smirks and promises he will one day.

and who comes around the corner at that moment other than the old lady from thirty minutes ago, narrowing her eyes at you guys before stomping over.

"i warned you," she spit, arms folded as she taps her foot at the both of you. "now get out."

you quickly scurry off the table and give her a small, apologetic smile. "i'm sorry, ma'am! i got too competitive! i promise it won't happen-"

"no. i said get out," she says roughly.

"but-"

"out!" she yells, her loud tone causing you to naturally jump back. you hit yeosang's hard body, his hand moving to squeeze your waist reassuringly.

"god, you're a bitch," he mumbles causing your eyes to widen.

"yeosang," you whisper.

her face twists into one of absolute rage, stomping over to you and going off about his lack of respect and asking if that's how his parents raised him.

"they told me to respect people who deserve it, not to respect people just because they're an old hag," he says, gripping your hand tightly and pulling you next to him. "you screaming in her face doesn't warrant shit."

he turns around when she starts to yell again, the both of you charging out of the arcade with a horrified look on your face.

"yeosang! i- you just called that woman an old hag! to her face!"

"and?" he says, interlacing your fingers as you scurry through the parking lot.

"that is....that was.... that was so mean!" you finally get out, covering your mouth with your hand as a shameful laugh bubbles out of it.

"oh yeah?" he quips, teasing in his tone as you stand in front of his motorcycle.  "because you're laughing right now."

"stop, i can't help it," you giggle, biting your lip so a huge smile doesn't cross your face. "i guess that makes me as bad as you, right?"

his eyes roam your face, eyes full of a light and a giant smile that almost had him forgetting why he asked you out in the first place. why he has to keep up his acts of bringing you flowers and holding your hand and whispering in your ear.

why he's gently tucking your hair behind your ear, looking at you with the softest expression he can muster on his face.

"no," he mumbles into the cold air, "you're much better than me, y/n."

there's something about the way he says it that has your eyebrows knitting together, lips pursing to the side before you open your mouth to speak. but he's quick to place his black helmet on your head, snapping the buckle under your chin before revving up his motorcycle.

you sit on the back, your arms tightly wrapped around his abdomen as the wind whips past you and thoughts swarm in your head that maybe, if given the opportunity, you wouldn't mind going on a second date with him.

and lucky for you, many more opportunities came.

the next three weekends consist of dates with yeosang, fridays either going to new dinner spots or (disastrously) trying out rollerblading while on saturdays he came in to order his ten chocolate covered strawberries and waited around for the break you now save for his arrival.

tonight's date was at the movie theater, planning to see a horror movie despite your pleas to watch literally anything else. but yeosang was quick to snag you guys a seat in the back, guiding you in by the small of your back as he held the biggest tub of popcorn you'd ever seen.

the date started out normal, the two of you quietly chatting and laughing through the previews as your slightly greasy hands collided ever so often; he earned a small piece of popcorn being thrown at him when he commented on your butter fingers.

it was when the movie was about forty minutes in, proving to be as boring and slow as most horror movies were nowadays, that things took a turn. at first you thought nothing of it, his elbow hitting yours as he rested his arm on your armrest.

you tried to focus, keep your eyes on the screen and not turn to look at the boy you've really grown to like over this past month.

because while he was still a bit obnoxious and out of line sometimes, there was sometimes a glimmer in his soft eyes and smile that made your heart jump in your chest. and then towards the end of your days together, something else took over. a deeper, darker look that made your stomach tighten and palms sweat, his whispered words ghosting over your ear or the feel of his strong hands on your waist.

your focus wavers when you feel his hand fall to the top of your thigh, his pointer finger reaching down to graze your exposed skin ever so slightly. because you typically don't wear skirts but on your last dinner date, you had noticed yeosang's lingering gaze on your legs and you'd be lying if you said it didn't make feel happy and excited. (but, of course, if he had called you out on it, you'd insist you wore it because it was pretty and new).

you look down at it and bite your lip, turning to squint your eyes at him. but his are trained on the screen, an unreadable expression on his face like he can't feel your gaze penetrating his face.

you look back and swallow nervously, trying to ignore the feeling of his finger itching its way up your thigh slowly, almost painfully, like his skin is burning yours. he continues this for the next few minutes, dragging his finger up and down your thigh lightly before he suddenly palms it, squeezing lightly and causing you to harshly inhale.

"what-what are you doing?" you whisper to him lowly, his fingers resting on your inner thigh.

"nothing," he mumbles, but you can hear the smirk in his voice. "what are you doing?"

"i'm trying to watch this movie but you're-"

the distinct sound of someone shushing you from a few rows down causes you to stop talking, side-eyeing him but making no move to take his hand off your leg. and maybe that's cause every week, the desire's been creeping up on you. and now sitting here with him, in the dark, surrounded by a bunch of unsuspecting people, isn't exactly helping that feeling.

because would someone really notice if he-

you feel his fingers trail closer to the innermost part of your thigh, feeling a familiar searing sensation rip through your core causing you to grab his palm. at first he thinks he's fucked up, made you incredibly uncomfortable and drew a line that not even he would pass. but then he sees your heated gaze, your teeth sunken into your lip as your feet press into the floor.

"yeosang," you say warningly.

"y/n."

"what are you doing?" you repeat through your choked whisper.

"i'm bored, y/n," he whispers lowly before leaning closer to your ear. "and i've been wanting to play with this pretty pussy of yours for weeks now."

your mouth drops open at his words, a strangled laugh threatening to leave at his absurdity if the desire and clenching between your legs didn't completely overwhelm your entire being. so instead, a shaky exhale leaves your mouth as you squirm in your seat at the feel of wetness pooling.

"and you thought now would be the appropriate time?" you get out, voice strangled and clearly bothered but still with that underlying attitude it always seem to hold with him.

his breathy laugh fans over your ear, warm breath ghosting over your burning skin. "yeah," his deep voice mumbles out, "it's dark. and we're pretty spaced out." there were only a few other couples and groups in the movie theater, all of them near the front or middle.

"do you not want me to?" he asks, moving his hand out of your grasp to continue its assault on your inner thigh. "say the word and i'll take my hand away right now."

you meet his penetrative gaze, seduction and teasing in his brown eyes as a knowing smirk spreads over his lips.

it makes you absolutely hate that you can't say it, that your body is screaming to keep your mouth shut and not rob it of recieving any sort of relief. you only stare up into his cocky, teasy gaze, his tongue coming out to lick his lips when he sees the tightness in your glossy eyes.

"now let's see just how wet you are for me," he mumbles, your teeth digging into your own lip now so a tiny whine doesn't leave your mouth.

you attempt to control your ragged breathing when you feel his hand slip under your skirt, rubbing you slowly through your wet thong that causes quiet, synchronized curses to leave your mouths. him because he loves feeling just how much his touches effect you and you because his hands are finally on you.

"that's good, baby," he mumbles lowly, "you're doing really good for me. but i'm gonna need you to stay quiet, okay?"  

your head lolls to the side, looking up at him and nodding before your eyes roll back when his hand moves your underwear to the side and his finger grazes over your clit. you whisper his name but it only causes his other hand to cover your mouth, slowly moving over you faster causing you to wriggle in the seat. your quiet moan is muffled by his hand and he smiles into the darkness, speeding up his finger's pace.

"you like this, pretty girl? does that feel good?"

too embarrassed to speak, your eyes shut as you welcome the pleasure his fingers are giving you. but then, like in some sick form of punishment for not acknowledging him, he pushes his finger into your dripping opening.

his eyes immediately widen when he feels just how tight you are around it, the tiny grimace on your face at the foreign feeling causing him to rip his hand out of your skirt.

"wait-are you a virgin?" he asks, his voice one of disbelief; he hadn't even considered that.

your eyes pop open as you nod your head, your lips turned into a pout at the feeling of being empty and wet. "why-why did you do that?"

the whine in your voice causes him to smirk, looking down at your legs where your skirt is rumpled at your thighs. "i thought i hurt you," he hums, "but you still want more?"

heat rushes to your cheeks as you nod your head, feeling like every bit of pride and dignity you had was momentarily stripped from you. but the sensation between your legs and dripping down your thighs is almost too much to handle.

"do you want my fingers in you?" he asks lowly, bringing the hand that was just inside you to your lips, his thumb threatening to slip between them. "or how 'bout my mouth? something tells me you probably taste-"

a jump scare in the movie seems to bring both of you back to your surroundings, remembering you're very much still in public and surrounded by people. so when your glossy eyes meet, your own full of arousal as his remain dark and teasing, he takes your hand and out the door to his motorcycle.

you both slip into his bedroom fifteen minutes later, your hand still in his as he slams the door shut and locks it. the ache between your legs hasn't even subsided a little; if anything, it only grew more with your body straddled over his motorcyle as you clung on to his hard stomach.

so you just about die when he pushes you back on the bed and falls to his knees, exposing your wet core when he drags your underwear down your quivering legs. you crane your neck up to see him already looking at you, a sinister smile on his face just as his hand disappers under your skirt again.

"you're still wet for me, right?" he asks, his tone almost condescending but proving to make your arousal grow stronger.

you nod your head, a strangled plea to touch you falling from your lips. you feel the breath from his laugh fan onto you, your eyes shutting as his finger barely grazes over you.

"just a few more seconds, baby," he teases, "you can wait, can't you?" and even though he's getting off on the fact that you're desperate for him, face pinched into one of frustration and arousal as you wriggle underneath him, he feels himself grow hard looking at your wet pussy.

"yeosang," you whine, bucking your hips up in hopes that it'll give you some relief. any relief. just something other than the borderline painful throbbing shooting through you. because it's bad enough that you're stripped here, half naked for a boy you couldn't stand but are begging to get you off.

and he must take pity on you because of that, his small chuckle followed by the sound of your loud, abrupt moan when his tongue swipes over your slit. your head falls back onto the mattress when he licks up to your clit, lapping over it skillfully as your hands start gripping the sheets.

you hadn't felt anything like this before, his tongue licking and sucking every part of you as his own content hums and moans vibrate against you. he hears your breathing turn ragged as you choke on moans, trying to surpress the urge to scream out when he slowly slips a finger in you.

"moan for me, baby, it's okay," he assures in his deep voice, "let me hear you."

and hear you he does, high-pitched moans and a mantra of his name over and over again as he drills his two fingers into your wetnes and eats you out like a man starved. you feel yourself on the brink of coming when he suddenly stops like some sort of sadist, your head shooting up to see him taking off his own jeans and underwear. and that's when you realize just how hard he is, his veiny cock springing from his boxers as he pants pool at his feet.

"i'm sorry, baby, it was about to fall off," he laughs out, the sounds of your moans and the taste of you getting to him. "you're gonna come on my tongue, don't worry."

but before he dives back in, you place your hand on his forehead and move back on the bed, guiding him up with your hand.

"what?" he asks, eyes narrowed as he tries to figure out what you want. but being this forward causes your cheeks to warm, suddenly consumed by an unsure feeling. because you've never done anything like this before. you have no idea what you're doing and here you are-

"hey, what happened?" he asks, noticing your slight change in demeanor. his hand rests on your cheek as he slips into that soft voice that makes your heart flutter.

"i just...don't you wanna come too?" you ask quietly, eyes nervously filtering around the room.

he smiles down at you, moving his thumb over your skin as he shakes his head. "i mean, of course i do," he laughs out, "but this was about you. i wasn't gonna...expect anything from you."

but then the unanimous decision that 69 would be best case scenario won, your warnings that you've never done this before and might be awful calmed by his assurance that as long as your pussy is in his mouth and your lips are wrapped around his cock, nothing could be that awful.

you take your time learning by listening to his reactions, licking around his tip and feeling him groan against you before you take him in your mouth. you bob your head up and down, spitting down him like he suggested and then finding a motion that only seemed to spur him on above.

his tongue dove into your opening with an eagerness that had you moaning against his cock, planting yourself harder on his face as he lapped up your wetness and played with your clit.

you came with a loud moan around his cock soon after, the vibrations causing him to buck his hips further into your mouth and making you to gag. he was quick to pull you off him and lay you down, placing a kiss on your sweaty head before taking his own dick in his hand and jerking off until he released onto your stomach.

you'd probably be a little disgusted by the sight of his semen if you weren't so blissed out, eyes heavy and heart racing as you lay there in a post orgasm daze. after cleaning you and himself up, he lays down beside you and smiles seeing you in your tired state.

"how was that, baby?" he hums lowly. already exposed and vulnerable, you roll over to rest your head on his chest, mumbling something that sounds like a mix of "so good" and "amazing" into his skin.

he chuckles before pulling the blanket up and around you both, his hand running through your sweaty, slighty-knotted hair until he hears your steady, even breaths of sleep. he lays there for a few moments and allows himself this bliss. the bliss he absolutely doesn't deserve. somewhere deep inside his chest reminding him, screaming at him in guilt and horror.

he rips himself away from you and pulls on a pair of sweatpants before quietly leaving the room, being met with the disappointed faces of san and hongjoong who were mindlessly watching tv.

"hey," he says quietly, padding his way over and plopping down on the couch. it's no secret they had gotten a good idea of what just happened, hearing the muffled moans and calls of yeosang's name.

it's a few minutes of tense, slightly awkward silence until san breaks it.

"you went too far, yeosang," his friend says, shaking his head as he looks at the bedroom door.

"what're you talking about?" he asks, the sinking feeling in his heart and stomach proving he knows exactly what the boy's talking about.

yeosang watches the smoke swirl out of the window as he puts his cigarette out in the dirt. "i have an idea," he says, the seven other boys turning their attention to the smirking boy with an all too familiar look in his eye.

"oh god, i know that look," san says cautiously, "what sadistic shit did your brain just conjure up?"

"not sadistic," yeosang assures, placing his arm on the back of the couch. "rather juvenile. but i think it'd work a lot better than the alternative."

jongho's eyebrow raises, dapping at his face with antiseptic cream as he looks in the mirror. "what're you going on about?"

"i figured we have two options," he explains, going over his plan that, of course, they could go after changbin. punch and kick and fight him until his face looks ten times worse than jongho's.

but why not target someone he loves? someone that he finds himself responsible for, no matter how poorly he may treat them. someone that peeked his interest just enough for him to devise this sort of twisted plan: get to know you, date you, 'fall in love' with you just for him to end things in the name of changbin and his hatred toward him and his friends.

"you're not honestly considering this,"  san says to yeosang when he's done talking, "you can't play with someone's heart like that!  that's fucked up, even for you."

"it's perfect!" wooyoung says, ignoring san's words as he claps his hands together. "jevenile, you're right. but perfect. nothing like using someone's sister for revenge. ooooh do you know how pissed he'll be too when he finds out his own sister is dating you, of all people?"

the boys look at each other warily, parts of them thinking it'll be harmless fun while others are thinking this could quite possibly be their friend's worst idea yet.

"i'm with san, i don't like it either," hongjoong says, "she was nice to us and apologized. i dont't think she deserves to be dragged into this."

"she dragged herself in when she inserted herself into her brother's fights," wooyoung says, not being able to get passed his anger and bitterness at watching jongho getting injured. "she also probably thinks of us the same way he does."

the boys bicker back and forth about the plan, yeosang remaining silent as he toys with the  cigarette in his pocket. but hongjoong can see the boy has already made up his mind, that he's narrowed himself in on you and plans to carry out whatever else he's concocted in that brain of his.

"he's gonna do whatever he wants, guys," hongjoong says, halting the boy's voices as he looks at yeosang. "whatever we say isn't even gonna matter, is it?"

"probably not," he says with a smirk because his friend really does know him well. "besides, she was a fiesty little thing. she might end up being more trouble than she's worth."

"you said date her, not bring her to the house and fuck her," san spits angrily, not at all liking how this little plan of his is playing out.

"i didn't fuck her, she's a- she hasn't done that before."

hongjoong and san's eyes widen, the latter boy running a hand through his hair in frustration; that makes everything worse.

"yeosang..." hongjoong says warningly.

"i know what i'm doing," he snaps, "jeez, it's not that big of a deal."

"not that big of a deal?" san says, voice raising as he shakes his head. "you're using her to get back at her asshole of a brother! how is that not-"

"shut the fuck up, san," yeosang growls lowly, shooting up from the couch and over to his friend, "she's sleeping."

"maybe i should wake her up then," san says, standing up and going over to the boy, "let her know what an asshole you're being right now and tell her the truth."

"like you being a little bitch is any better," yeosang spits, "you don't even know the whole truth so stop rubbing your mouth." hongjoong sees the exact moment san considers punching him in the face, his small fists bawled before he jumps up and throws his body between the two boys.

"stop. both of you."

and because hongjoong's word is final, the two boys stare at one another before yeosang scoffs. he makes it a point to bump into san's shoulder roughly, pretending that the angry brewing in him is aimed at the boy and not himself.

a feeling of deja vu hits you when you walk into your classmate's house and your eyes collide with yeosang, a small smile on your face as he nods his head at you.

you guys have been seeing each other for a little over two months now, texting when you can during the week and spending every friday and saturday together. it was concerning how fast you let your guard down with him and it only proved to deepen your feelings, both your emotional nd physical bond getting stronger and stronger everyday.

it's why you guys can barely keep your eyes off each other, gazes meeting and smiles spreading across your face before you nervously look away or get called out by your friend.

"why does he keep smiling at you?" your friend asks.

"yeah," the other girl goes, "you keep looking at him too! do you guys know each other?"

you can only nod your head, informing them that he sometimes comes into your bakery since it's technically not a lie, afterall. they look at him with a grimace before rolling their eyes, dragging you away so you're out of his view. "we can't have you associating with him," they said.

so you could only imagine how surprised they were when an hour later, you waltzed right up to yeosang and placed a kiss on his cheek.

"finally," he mumbles in your ear, resting his hand on your hip and squeezing it lightly. "i've been waiting for you."

"they kept ushering me away," you tell him over the blaring music, "didn't want me around a bunch of deliquents."

you suddenly hear a loud deep voice booming the words to the song, turning around to see yeosang's two large friends dropping their asses to the floor.

"a elle le gusta la gasolina!" the red-haired one sings, beer in the air shortly followed by the other's "dame mas gasolina!"

you can't help but burst out laughing, snapping your head to yeosang who watches them with a blank expression. "yeah, cause that's what are. deliquents," he says dryly.

you hadn't really gotten to know his friends very well, just exchanged polite hi's and bye's when you happen to see them when you visit their house. they all seemed nice enough, though you did find it strange that none of them could really look you in the eye. you figured it was because of changbin's antics, who you made sure to apologize again for when you saw jongho.

"they're good," you comment, giggling when the one yeosang introduced as yunho winks playfully at you.

he drags you in front of him by your hip, pushing your body back into his crotch and causing your eyes to widen. what the hell is he- "but i'm sure you're better," he hums in your ear, moving his body against yours ever so slightly and causing you to snort.

"stop it," you giggle, pushing yourself back into him harshly. "i went my whole high school career not grinding at a sleazy party and i'd like to keep it that way."

he turns you in his hold so your chests are flush against one another, his arms wrapped around your waist as you splay your fingers across his chest.

"i thought that was because you never had anyone to grind with," he mumbles in your ear, smiling into your hair when he hears you scoff.

"not technically, no.... but i probably could've if i wanted to," you whine, cheeks warming as he calls out your lack of experience.

"but you didn't," he says, voice dropped the way it always is when you're behind his closed bedroom door. "and now you have me."

you crane your neck back to look at him, eyes wide and curious as you bite your lip to hide your smile. because you suppose this is the closest you two have come to putting an official title on whatever you two have been doing. going on dates and holding hands and fumbling under his warm comforter while you swallow each other's moans.

"oh...really?" you squeak and your voice sounds so hopeful and happy that it makes his heart tug for more than one reason. but he smiles through it, pecks a kiss right onto your lips in front of everyone.

"of course, baby," he chuckles out, "what'd you think we were doing?"

"i don't know," you blush again, a shy smile making it's way on your face. "i don't know the proper procedure."

"proper procedure?" he asks, raising an eyebrow teasingly causing you to giggle into your palm and smack his chest lightly.

"stop making fun of me!"

"i'm sorry, you're just so cute," he says, reaching his hand up to pinch your cheek causing your nose to scrunch in distaste. but then his voice drops again, eyes falling to the lips as a sinister, teasing smirk crosses his face. "even when you're gagging on my cock, you're still so-"

"what. the. fuck," you hear a familiar voice behind you, jumping around with flushed cheeks and wide eyes to see changbin staring at the both of you with fire in his eyes. at yeosang's hands on your hips and your bodies pressed flush against each other.

you can only stare blankly, eyes wide and mouth agape because how the hell could you have forgotten your brother was here? and now he's so angry looking at the both of you comfortably pressed up against one another, the familiar twinge of anxiety and nervousness creeping it's way into your bones when you're around a pissed off changbin ready to fight.

"changbin, if you would just-"

"get your hands off her. now," your brother demands, jaw clenched and body advancing forward like he's about to snatch you out of yeosang's arms. but the boy's quick to turn you around, angle your body to the side to ensure no one's taking you away from him.

"i don't think i will," yeosang says cooly, evenly, like an eerie calmness before a storm.

"you're really out of your fucking mi-"

"she's my girl and brother or not, you won't tell me what to do," yeosang snaps, watching his jaw tick and face turn to one of absolute rage. "especially when you're so angry."

"your gir- y/n, you're dating him? what the fuck is wrong with you!" he screams, the people around you falling silent as they side-eye you.

"don't yell at me, changbin, it's none of your business," you snap, trying to get yourself out of yeosang's hold.

"how do you figure, little sister," he spits sarcastically, "you're making us look so stupid, don't you know that? you look like the biggest idiot."

"i suggest you shut your fucking mouth," yeosang growls, watching as changbin's harsh gaze turns from you to him.

"what, you're too big a pussy to go after me so you target my sister?" he asks. you feel yeosang's hold let go out of you and advance toward your brother who's collar is quickly grabbed again.

"what gave you the impression i'm a pussy?" he asks, tightening his hold on his shirt and turning his neck to the side. "like i won't fuck you up right now."

"then do it and see what happens, see how fast my sister leaves you," changbin snaps before smikring, "not like you really give a shit about her anyway, right?"

one of yeosang's friends, sporting soft brown eyes and a dimply smiles tries to guide you away from them when he sees you watching them in a panic. but you're quick to jump in the middle of them, pull yeosang back by the shirt who immediately releases your brother when he feels your touch.

and because you know your brother, you're quick to jump around to the middle and drag him out the door into the cold, outside air.

"what is your problem?!" you ask, voice raising and threatning to wobble. "why do you always have to start shit?"

"you can't be serious, y/n. you really can't be that fucking stupid!"

your face drops when as he yells harshly in your face, pressing your lips into one another so you don't scream or cry. but it doesn't stop your brother from shaking his head and continuing to give you a reality check. because he's a boy, a mean one at that, and it's abundantly clear to him what yeosang is doing.

"he's using you to get back at me, y/n. for punching his little coconut head friend," he says, your eyes narrowing at his petty insult. "how do you not see that?"

"you're so full of yourself, changbin," you spit, in disbelief that someone could actually have an ego this inflated. because it's bad enough your own parents make you surround your weekend with his nonsense but now he really has the balls to think he's able to have that effect on other people as well? that the only reason a boy would talk and interact and show an interest in you was because of him?

"maybe he just likes me for me. would that be so hard to believe?"

but he only rolls his eyes at your dramatics, letting out a scoff as he shakes his head at you. "whatever, y/n. just don't come crying to me when you discover i was right." he pushes passed you and disappears back into the house, the door slamming behind him and causing you to exhale shakily.

you plop down on the steps and put your head in your hands, frustrated and hurt and annoyed at him; changbin's never been there for you ever. you can't think of a time he was ever nice to you or stuck up for you, not when people used to bully you at school or when your parents on the daily yell at you for nonsense.

and now the one time you finally get a boy that likes you, he can't even do the big brother thing and be happy for you. he has to assume the worse case scenario and make everything about him.

you sit there in the cold for a few minutes, rubbing over your pounding temples and shivering when a cold breeze tickles your skin. you hear the door open behind you, moving down a step with a small apology until yeosang is crouched down below you. a small smile appears on his face upon seeing your red, cold cheeks.

"it's cold out here, babe," he mumbles, placing his warm hands on your cheeks causing your eyes to drop into your lap.

"i-i don't wanna go back in there," you tell him quietly, for some reason feeling embarrassed that changbin made those accusations about him. "i just can't believe him," you mumble, "he's such an asshole. how could he say that-"

"it's okay," he grunts out, voice tight and strained and you imagine it's because another harsh whip of wind hits you both in the face. "he doesn't matter."

you look up at him, heart and stomach fluttering when you see something twinged in his brown eyes that you've never seen before. it's an emotion you can't quite pinpoint, his eyes roaming your face as his thumbs gently start to stroke your cheeks.

"how 'bout we just go?" he says softly, "we can go back to my room and just hang out. or i can bring you home." but you're quick to shake your head, a small shy smile when you tell him you wanna stay with him.

so he pecks your cheek, interlaces your fingers and drags you over to his motorcycle. he plops his helmet on your head the way he always does, snapping it under your chin before bringing your arms around his waist.

you spend the night in his bed, feet tangled as you talk and giggle and kiss until he slips his fingers between your legs and moans ring throughout his room.

the knot in yeosang's stomach only grew over the past two weeks, changbin's words and the way he couldn't even assure you that they weren't true eating him alive. because he'll admit it started that way, he didn't have any intention of actually coming to have feelings for you. but ever since that night, he can't stop wracking his brain over how wrong he's been. how stupid and mean and childish the idea was in the first place and that now maybe he deserves all the guilt and anxiety ridding his body.

because it didn't take him long to realize he geninely loves your company, loves the way you smile at him and laugh and chastise him when he gets a little too out of line. and if all of that didn't make it clear to him that you were the real deal for him, seeing you with tears in your eyes outside of the bakery surely did the trick.

he had come to pick you up for your friday night date when he saw you and an older man talking animately to each other, both your faces pinched in anger though yours hold the slightest hint of fear and frustration.

"because i have plans with my friend, dad!" you screech, resisting the urge to stomp your foot. and to anyone else walking by, it would look like you were a bratty teenage girl disobeying your father. "why should i have to go and babysit him? he's a 17-year-old boy!"

"really, y/n," he spats, his eyes burning into yours and you know it's taking everything in him to not put his fist through the glass window. "i give you everything you could possibly need and you can't do this one thing for me?"

you resist the urge to roll your eyes because that's always his line. throwing it in your face that he provides you with food and shelter and clothing when really, that's what he signed up for when he decided to have kids. because you work this job for your own money, never asking him for a cent and even offering to pay for your own phone bill.

"because it's not fair," you whine, "i should be able to do my own things without having to follow my older brother around. i don't understand why you even enable this be-"

"who do you think you're talking to!" he shouts, your body retracting at the sound as a squeal leaves your mouth. "you should just do the things i tell you to do."

"well why can't changbin do things you tell him! like not to get into fights like a child."

yeosang listens from across the street, his legs itching to go over and help you but thinking it might do more harm than good. but once he sees the familiar twitch of your dad's hand moving up, more shouts leaving his mouth, he's quick to rev his motorcycle.

your head snaps to the side, looking at the boy's figure covered by his black helmet and tears spring to your eyes because you just wanna be with him, far away from your dad and brother and family who do nothing but harass you.

"i don't know what's gotten into you but-"

"i left my sweatshirt inside," you suddenly snap, "and my friend's gonna be here soon. i'm not going, dad. i'm done watching over your grown son."

and with that, shoulders flinching up to your ears because there's a 50% chance you're about to get smacked, you pull open the door to the bakery and wait behind the register until you see your father stomp towards his car. you shakily exhale, grasping the counter to reign yourself in. you're happy you were able to stand up for yourself, finally tell your father just how absurd it is that he's been making you enable changbin's behavior; but that doesn't mean it had been easy.

because that was only half the battle, now you'll have to deal with more backlash from him and your mom and maybe even changbin himself if he ever decides to talk to you again.

and the thought of having to do that sends you into a nervous panic, not wanting to deal with the hostile environment and the fighting and the-

the ding of the bell rips you from your frazzled, panicked thoughts, your mouth opening to stutter out an apology that you're closed until your glossy eyes meet yeosang's. a small smile rests on his face as he makes his way up to the counter, tucking your hair behind your ear gently.

"am i still able to get chocolate-covered strawberries?" he asks, his eyes and tone teasing, "i know you're closing but have a date tonight and i really think she'd like them."

a small, half-hearted giggle leaves your mouth as you nod your head getting ready to grab a box and tray before his arm reaches out and grabs your wrist. "hey, i was kidding," he says softly with warm, brown eyes to match.

"oh," you squeak, your cheeks warming at the way he's looking at you. "sorry."

his eyes narrow at you, tongue poking out to swipe across his lip contemplatively. "c'mere," he suddenly mumbles, fingers moving in a curved motion. you raise your eyebrow but obey nonetheless, walking out from around the counter before his arms reach out and wrap around you in a hug.

you close your eyes the second your head hits his chest, letting out a sigh of relief you didn't realize you needed when his arms close around your body and he hums lowly in your ear. "what happened?"

tears prick your eyes as you think back to the encounter with your dad, swallowing the lump in your throat and basking in the familiar scent of cigarettes and cologne. his hand toys with the end strands of your hair, patiently waiting for you to answer until he hears your breathing start to labor.

"y/n?" he mumbles, pulling back to take your face in his hands. you watch his expression fall as his eyes roam over your face, the concern laced in them causing your lip to tremble.

"please don't cry," he begs, his stomach plummeting when he reaches up to wipe a stray tear that's escaped your eye.

"i'm sorry," you say, voice breaking as you shake your head. "i'm just so... frustrated."

"was that your dad?"

"yes," you grunt out, sadness and frustration quickly being replaced by anger at the mere mention of him. "he wanted me to go out with changbin and got mad when i said i had other plans. why-why should i have to do that, yeosang?" you yelp, tears still gathering but voice getting louder and more exasperated. "he's a grown man! they completely enable the behavior and then they yell at me like i'm the asshole here."

"i know," he says softly, rubbing his hand over your hair soothingly. "it's really not fa-"

"you're right, it's not fair!" you interupt in your heat of passion and venting, "because then i feel bad and now when i go back home, the house is gonna be tense and awkward and oh, my god i'm gonna-"

his lips on yours stop the words from leaving your mouth, his arm tightning around your waist as he pushes you back into the counter. you meet his kiss with fevor, parting your lips and allowing his tongue to slip in your mouth. you moan at the intrusion, bringing your hands to the back of his head and pulling on the honey blonde strands of his hair.

your mouths break apart as he rests his forehead on yours, looking into your wide, glossy eyes. "i'm sorry," he mumbles, "but you needed to-"

"shut up," you say, jumping up on the counter and pulling him back down to your lips. he chuckles into the kiss, his arms wrapping around your neck as he pulls you closer to him. desire builds between your legs the more you kiss, his tongue slipping easily into your mouth and groaning when your own meets his.

he lets it slide the first time, knowing you're in a pissed off state but when you do it three more times, he's quick to pull away. his hand follows to your throat, wrapping around it and causing your eyes to widen.

"careful, baby," he mumbles lowly, his thumb rubbing over your rapid pulse point. "i know you're troubled but remember who's in charge here, hm?"

and at that point, you're almost sure you're gonna let him fuck you on the counter you work at every weekend. but the small part of your brain not completely absorbed by desire and lust screams at you about how unsanitary that is, how you can't allow your little boss's business to succumb to a place you lose your virginity.

"can we- can we go back to your place?"

he pulls back to look at you, hand still wrapped around your neck as he sees the growing desire and fire in your eyes that match his. but he had every intention of bringing you out on a real date, to dinner and maybe another movie that wouldn't end with his hand under your skirt.

"i thought maybe we'd go to dinner or-"

"no," you whine, shaking your head as you feel your thighs clench together. "i wanna go to your house."

his eyebrow raises, trying to calm down the excitement brewing in his lower half. because after everything that's happened, he thinks this might be the worst possible thing to do.

but he's aware of his geuine feelings for you, knows since the first date ended that his stupid little plan was never gonna be a thing and that what he feels for you is real.

so that's why he does what you ask and brings you to his house, locking the door to his room and stripping you down before licking up the arousal between your legs and planting his mouth on your clit. he slides two fingers in with ease, curling them up and relishing in the way you scream out his name.

"more," you begged, hands pulling and twisting and tugging at his hair so hard he's almost sure it's about to fall out.

"you want a third?" he mumbles from between your legs, "can your tight little pussy take that?"

"no, your cock," you say and the words falling from your mouth cause his already aching dick to grow harder. because you've always been so compliant, only moans of yes or his name echoing through his room.

"baby..." he says warningly. because no matter how hard he is, he knows it's your first time. and a part of him feels like it isn't right, given the day you've had.

"yeosang, please," you beg, on the verge of tears again by how wrecked and aroused you feel. "i'm-i'm ready."

he abandons his spot between your legs to lean over you, his face over your flushed one as he stares straight into your glossy eyes. "baby, i want too. believe me, i do," he says, bringing his hand into you hair again. "but i think after everything, maybe we shouldn't- i don't wanna-"

in a lust-induced daze, you take his hand and put it between your legs letting him feel just how wet and ready you are for him. "i'm ready and i need you," you whine, moving your hips so your pussy drags against his hand. "i need you to fuck me."

he swallows down the lump in his throat, never once feeling his cock ache the way it did upon hearing you say that. his takes your jaw between his hand, squeezing ever so slightly so your faces are nearly pressed together.

"you sure?" he asks, watching your face as he slips a finger back into you. you moan out at the feeling, your legs shaking as you spread them further.

"yes," you say, repeating the words over and over until he silences you with his lips. he kisses you as he aligns himself between your legs, rubbing his tip against your slit teasingly and chuckling when you pull your lips away to whine his name.

"alright, baby, it might sting, okay?"

but you're pleasantly surprised when you don't feel much pain at all. he's slow and inches his way in further and further until your walls adjust around his length, only the first two thrusts rather uncomfortable until the third smacks you with a feeling of finally.

your moans ring out over and over, his hard length moving in and out of you causing your eyes to roll back. yeosang has to control himself from not busting right away, your tight clenching and fucked out expression nearly bringing him over the edge everytime he looked at you.

"how's that feel, baby?" he grunts out, voice deep and guttural. but you can only moan in response, moving your hips to meet his steady thrusts. "do you know how happy it makes me to know i'm the only one who's fucked you?"

his hand comes down to toy with your clit, rubbing and tweaking it gently as he continues to pound into you. "you're mine and this pussy's mine now. you know that?"

you chest heaves up and down as your breathing picks up, his words and thrusts and fingers causing the familiar tightening in your stomach to be the most intense you've ever felt. "yeosang, holyshit, holy fuck, i'm gonna-"

loud, squeaky moans leave your mouth when your first orgasm hits, followed by longer deeper ones when his thrusts becomes more sporadic, movements sloppy as he chases after his own high. his brain reminds him to pull out just before he comes, releasing on your stomach with low, deep groans.

you lay there with your eyes closed, feeling boneless as he wipes your stomach and legs before placing a kiss on your forehead. you hear him move around the room before crawling back in next to you, gently moving you until you're both under his comforter. you turn your head to look at him, eyes lazily opening as a shy, satisfied smile crosses your face.

"are you good?" he asks, "you feel okay?"

"i feel like...i wanna do that again in ten minutes," you say honestly, a blush creeping up on your face when he bursts out laughing and pulls you into him.

"i think i'll be able to make that happen, love," he says, pecking your cheek with multiple, loud kisses before trailing his lips down your neck.

it takes you a few seconds to remember where you are when your eyes pop open the next morning, looking around at the walls and comforter before realizing you're in yeosang's bed. the very same bed you spent hours in last night, exploring every surface of each other's bodies with your mouths and hands.

you sit up and stretch your arms up with a tiny groan, feeling a bit of soreness between your legs when you start to move around the room for a pair of pants. but as you put on the t-shirt and sweatpants he left on his dresser, you know every bit of it was worth it. because he truly is a talented man, you think any of his personality faults could be made up with by the sheer power and skill his fingers have.

except, maybe, when you open the door to his bedroom and hear him and his friend seonghwa talking in the kitchen area.

"you have to tell her," seonghwa says quietly. "tell her that your feelings changed and that you regret ever even thinking like that."

" but what if- i can't even think about-"

"she has to know, yeosang," the boy says adamantly, "it wouldn't be right if you kept it from her."

your stomach drops as you listen to the boy's words, hearing yeosang sigh heavily.

"i know. but what the fuck," he says, the frustration and fear in his tone obvious. "how do i tell her something like that? i can't just be like hey, y/n, your brother was actually right, i was just using you to get back at him but now i'm-"

you can't even stop the broken "what?" from escaping your mouth as your chest caves in.

yeosang and seonghwa's heads immediately snap up to you, both of their faces falling before the blonde boy charges to you. "y/n, wait..."

your eyes sting and chest burns as you go back in the room, slamming his own door shut as you frantically start looking for your clothes.

because how fucking stupid could you have been. how could you not have seen that he'd been faking everything? was he that good of an actor? or were you really just an absolute idiot blinded by a hot guy in a leather jacket?

yeosang comes barreling in the room less than a second later, face frantic and panicked.

"y/n, you have to listen to me."

a maniac laugh falls from your lips as you shake your head frantically, taking his shirt off as you back yourself into the opposite side of his room.

"fuck you."

"baby, i know that sounded bad but you have-"

"don't call me that!" you screech, throwing his shirt across the room as you quickly slip on yours. "you're disgusting, you're so fucking disgusting, oh my god."

"y/n, i said that stupid shit the first night i met you because we were all pissed at what changbin did and i-"

"stop!" you screech, fumbling to take off his pants as you slip on your jeans, "stop talking. i-i don't wanna hear anything you have to say."

"i regret even saying that after our first date because i could tell i was really gonna like you, that i wanted-"

"shut up," you snap, getting your bag from his dresser and making your way to his bedroom door. he grabs you gently by the arm and brings you into him, disgust making its way up your throat as he holds you in his arms.

"baby, please," he begs, voice wavering and fearful, "just give me five minutes to-"

"i said don't fucking call me that!" you yell, placing your hands on his chest and forcefully pushing him back. your eyes meet his and you feel the humiliation and embarassment flood through you. because you're still so stupid and blinded, thinking there's actual hurt swirling in his eyes as he looks at you on the verge of a breakdown.

"we had sex," you blurt out, tears swarming in your eyes that start to leak down your cheeks. "i-i gave you my-" you can't even get the words out before a humorless laugh slips out of your mouth. "you fucking lied about everything, yeosang. you lied straight to my face and took me on dates and had fucking sex with me."

"i didn't lie, i never lied," he says, making his way over to you as he holds out his hands . "i like you, y/n, i like you so fucking much and i regretted saying that stupid shit the second i-"

"i never wanna see you again, do you understand me?" you say, voice breaking as you look in his eyes one last time. "don't ever talk to me again."

"y/n, please-" but you quickly turn around and make your way out the door with your head hung low, scurrying past the seven boys on the couch who are trying to act like they hadn't just heard everything.

yeosang runs out of his room the second the upstairs door slams shut, the seven pairs of eyes going from the staircase to the dishevled, broken boy standing in the doorway.

"yeosang," hongjoong says tentatively, unable to gauge if the boy's about to cry or punch a hole in the wall. but he himself isn't too sure what he's gonna do, walking over to the couch and sinking into it as his head falls into his hands.

"i fucked up," he grumbles, voice wet and wobbling, "i fucked up so bad."

"i told you," san's voice says sadly after a few moments of silence, the other boys looking at him with wide eyes because now is so not the time for i told you so. but yeosang can only look at him, watery eyes on the boy as he nods his head.

"i know you did," he says and the whole room can hear how devastated he is. how his mind is already screaming at him, fearful that it just ruined one of the best things he's ever had.

the car ride back to your house is silent, changbin's grip on the wheel tight as he listens to you cry into your hands. he knows you both have your issues, that you fight and dislike each other more often than not, but seeing you cry is something he'll always consider to be one of his least favorite things.

"are you gonna tell me what happened, y/n?" he asks, tone surprisingly calm and even.

"no changbin," you spit, "i already told you 500 times that i don't wanna talk about it."

the car stops a few minutes later and you figure you're at a red light until you feel him put it in park. your teary eyes shoot up to look at him, lips pursing together so a loud sob doesn't leave them.

"if you don't tell me, i'm turning around and asking him myself."

and that's when you break down even further, lips trembling as ugly, horrific sobs start to leave you. he can only stare blankly for a few moments before awkwardly reaching his hand out to place it on your shoulder, shock quickly replacing his face when you harshly knock it off.

"don't touch me!" you scream, "this is your fault in the first place!"

his eyebrows furrow together at your outburst, turning his head to look at you. "what? what are you talking about?"

"you were right, okay," you say, voice considerably more weak and saddended from just seconds ago. "he-he was using me. because of what you did to his friend. and i was so fucking stupid and didn't see it and you were right all along and-"

"okay, wait, wait, slow down," he says, "what happened? how did you find this out?"

"why the hell does that matter," you squeak, "all that matters is he fucking lied to me and i never wanna see him again!"

changbin's eye remain narrowed as his brain wracks itself over a conversation, his mouth opening to speak before you beat him to it.

"can we just go home, please," you beg, "i just wanna go to sleep."

he looks over to see your face wet and eyes puffy, body and soul completely drained and in need of sleep. so he spares you for now, driving you home where you end up not leaving your room for three straight days.

by the fourth day of you missing school, telling your parents your stomach still doesn't feel right and you're gonna vomit, he's had enough.

changbin charges into your room before he leaves for school, plopping down on your bed and smacking your head with one of your many decor pillows.

"leave me alone, changbin," you whine, moving your head to bury it in your sheets.

"no," he says, crawling over your legs to sit on the other side. "you've wallowed enough. now you have to sit up so i can tell you something."

"i don't care," you dramatically whine, "i don't wanna hear anything you have to tell me."

"what if i tell you yeosang told me himself that he was using you?"

your head snaps up immediately, unwashed knotty hair a mess as you stare at him with wide eyes and an empty feeling in your chest.

"what?"

"maybe he just likes me for me. would that be so hard to believe?"

changbin can only roll his eyes at your dramatics, letting out a scoff as he shakes his head at you. "whatever, y/n. just don't come crying to me when you discover i was right." he pushes passed you and into the house, bumping into the shoulder of a familiar leather jacket.

"oops, sor-" the deep male voice says until his head snaps up. "oh."

changbin's head snaps up, eyes narrowing at the boy and resisting the urge to punch him int he face.

"yeah, oh," he says sarcastically, pushing the boy back roughly. "stay the hell away from my sister."

"what part of she's my girl didn't you understand?" the boy says back daringly, looking at him with such determination and sureness he'd respect him if they were in any other circumstances.

"you're fucking nuts, you know that?" changbin laughs out, pushing him again until he hits the back of the wall. "our issues are with each other. so why go after her, huh? are you that scared of me?"

"i'm not scared of you at all actually," yeosang snaps back, "if i was, would i straight up be telling you that was initially my plan?"

it takes a second for changbin to register what the boy actually just told him, his eyebrows furrowed together. because there was no way he just admitted to his face that he was going to-

"i was gonna do that at first, use her to get even and have you pissed off," he says, "but that plan went to shit right after our first date when i realized i would end up having feelings for her."

"wow, how romantic," changbin bites sarcastically, "is that supposed to earn you my approval, you twisted fuck?"

"no, because i'm not asking for your approval. i just want you to know my feelings for her are genuine."

changbin's eyebrow raises at his comment, the intensity in his eyes and tone telling him the kid is telling the truth.

"you know, you give her a lot of unnecessary stress with your petty bullshit and fighting. she cares about you a lot and you take advantage of that."

changbin's neck tenses up and he pops it to the side, taking a step closer to the boy as his voice drops threateningly. "you don't know anything so i suggest you-”

"i'm not trying to start shit with you," yeosang says, rolling his eyes and pushing him back slightly because this idiot totally missed the point. "but if you can't stop being an asshole for yourself, then at least do it for her. because she feels obligated to you and your parents even though she shouldn't."

and with that, changbin watches him walk past him and open the front door. he sees your figure hunched over, head in your hands as you sit out in the cold and something about that image mixed with yeosang's words causes his stomach to sink.

you remain speechless after changbin tells you about his and yeosang's conversation, teeth digging into your lip as you mull over the this new information. because parts of it make you feel a little bit better, that he was honest to you about the timeline and did truly have feelings for you.

but he still lied to you. still based your relationship off lies and negativity and made you feel so incredibly humiliate during those first few moments of finding out.

"i'm not saying what he did was right and i still don't particularly like him," changbin says, "but i think any malicious intent he had lasted for about three seconds. you seem to have the guy pretty whipped."

a humorless laugh leaves your mouth as you shake your head, pursing your lips to the side in thought. "but he still lied to me," you say quietly, "he started our whole relationship off on a lie to get stupid revenge on you."

changbin's hand comes up to pat your head like you're a little lap dop, your nose scrunching up at him in distaste before a small smile crosses his face. "it's obviously gonna be your decision, y/n, i was just saying my thoughts."

and with that, he gets up and heads toward your door. you watch him turn in the doorway, looking at you cuddled up in bed and looking so much like the little sister he used to torment. "i'm also gonna tell dad to lay off you about being my babysitter," he says teasingly, "i'm getting kind of old, right?"

"kind of?" you quip sarcastically, a smile tugging at your lips when he throws his middle finger up at you and slams your door shut. your first laugh in days bubbles out of your mouth before you roll over in bed, staring at the ceiling as you mule over everything in your head.

the next time you see yeosang, it's the first time you ever get drunk. another party with only 'northerners' left it without incident, changbin not only friendly and cordial but also sober to keep a watchful eye on you.

which by the end of the night, was absolutely needed. because four shots and two beers would've been a decent amount for any high school girl but especially one who hadn't drank before.

and with a week to think over your situation with yeosang, it was clear drunk you had finally come to a consensus as you dial up his number; he had respected your wishes and hadn't once contacted you, a sinking feeling in you that maybe it's actually because he didn't care enough to try.

but then he answered one the first ring, a frantic "hello?" spoken into the phone that was met with your drunk, girlish giggle.

"i-i've missed your voice, wow," you stutter, the deep, gruffness something all too desirable. "what are youuu doing."

"are you drunk?" he asks, the sound of him moving in the background getting lost in your ringing ears.

"are- are you drunk?" you gasp, "oh no, how are-are you gonna get me on your coooool motorcycle bad boy yeosang."

he'd laugh at you in other circumstance but right now, he has no idea where you are or if you're in a safe space or if you're about to remember what he did and hang up on him.

"where are you? is changbin with you?"

"changbin?" you squeak, the boy snapping his head to look at you. "he's right next to me! he-he told me you guys talked, ya know. k-kind of saved your ass, if i'm being honest."

"can i talk to him?"

you hand the phone to changbin as you tiredly lean against the wall, shutting your eyes as your body starts to feel boneless and warm. you hear the sound of changbin's voice and even a strangled chuckle before he hangs up the phone, guiding you toward the corner of your room where your bag is.

"where-where are we going?"

"yeosang's gonna come pick you up. is that okay?" changbin asks softly.

"he is?" you squeal happily, "tha-that's okay. i've missed him. i-i want to see him."

"okay, good," changbin says, "because he's coming. let's go wait for him."

he guides you up the stairs and out the door carefully, holding on to your arm and trying not to laugh when you almost face-plant several times. your eyes stay trained on the street looking for a familiar black motorcycle that you miss the white car pulling up completely, yeosang getting out and walking around the hood as he races toward the house.

"hi changbin," he says, looking at the boy who gives him a nod before his eyes land on your glassy ones. "hey, you."

"oh-oh, my god, he forgot my name already," you whisper to changbin, "what an asshole!"

"i don't think he forgot your name," he assures with a smile, yeosang biting his lip to hide his own.

"i could never forget your name, y/n," he says teasingly, holding his hand out for you to grab.

you look at it with a smile before quickly taking it, intertwining your fingers and feeling your heart warm at the familiar sensation of his hand in yours. the whole time to his house, you complain that you really expected his arrival on the motorcycle.

"th-this car is fine, i guess," you say, "but a motorcycle is like sexy, you know. even though you're only a teenager. hey, are you-are you even old enough to ride a motorcycle? di-did you break the rules just so you can have a bad boy agenda?"

he snorts when he pulls up to his house, assuring you he had all the proper training and licensing to ride a motorcycle before guiding you carefully into his house. the seven boys are sprawled out on the couch, looking at your stumbling figure with a wary look but a smile nonetheless.

"i-i'm not stupid, i promise, you guys," you tell them, causing them to fall silent. "i-i think he actually likes me." only a few beats of silence pass before they burst out laughing, yeosang's cheeks warming because if anyone knows how much he likes you, it's them.

"i think you're right," mingi says, thinking back to how sulky and miserable the boy's been all week. "actually, i know you're right."

"really!" you squeal, clapping your hands together before you recongize his bright red hair. "hey! you're the one who was dancing to gasol-"

"okay, let's go, c'mon," yeosang says, ushering you into his room quickly because he knows just how fast a grind line could start if that song comes on in the presence of his friends.

he lays out a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt for you before he leaves to get you water, your eyes lighting up the second you see comfortable clothes and his bed. he comes back in a few minutes later to see your clothes in a ball, your body sprawled out on his bed.

"sooo comfy..." you hum, shutting your tired eyes and letting yourself melt into the warm comforter.

"y/n..." he says, placing the glass on his bedside table before sitting next to you. "i need to tell you how fucking sorry-"

"sh," you say, bringing your finger to his lips and pulling him down next to you. "we'll talk tomorrow, mmkay? i just want to sleep with you right now."

he roams over your sleepy face softly, your eyes shut and face relaxed as your head nods off side to side. you feel him place a kiss on your forehead, letting his lips linger before he pulls you under the covers and guides your head to his chest.

you're about to fall asleep to the sound of his steady heartbeat when you hear his deep voice mutter, "i missed you, baby. i'm sorry."

the second your eyes open, there's a pain pounding in your head so severe you think you're about to die. you slowly sit up, wincing at the seering sensation that shoots through your temple before a hand carefully guides your back to sit up.

you jump at the feeling, turning your head frantically to the side before your face drops when you see yeosang. it takes a few seconds for the hazy memories to come back, all the meanwhile he's staring at you with such fear and sadness in his eyes.

because he thinks you're regretting all of this: calling him and coming home with him in the first place, giving him a second chance he probably doesn't deserve but is gonna make sure he proves worthy of. he knows that the next words you speak could potentially shatter him, make him cry and beg on the spot and completely show you just how whipped you really made him in three months.

but instead, you quietly get out "hi," and he thinks that's probably an okay start.

"how you feeling?" he asks, running his fingers through your hair.

"horrible," you blunty speak causing a small laugh to bubble out of his chest.

"you'll feel better after you eat. i'll make you something, okay?" he says gently, his hand moving from your hair to your cheek. "there's water right there."

you nod your head, gulping down the cold liquid before laying back down as he pads out of the bedroom. you don't know how long you fall back asleep for until yeosang comes back into his room, placing the plate on the bed before he gently stirs you awake.

"food, love," he mumbles lowly, causing your eyes to pop open. you let him feed you small bites of an omlette and gulp down another glass of water before you feel slightly human, curling back up into his bed in fetal position.

he rests his back on the headboard as he looks down at you, looking over your figure with such a soft, gentle look it causes your eyes to narrow. "what?"

he swallows the lump in his throat, his adams apple bobbing as he tries to gather himself.

"i'm sorry, y/n," he rushes out, "i-i've felt so shitty this past week and i don't deserve to have you hear me out but i swear to you, i swear i only had that stupid idea in my head for a second and then after our-"

"first date," you finish with closed eyes, "changbin told me about your conversation."

he's shocked and a little thrown off by the calmness in your tone, thinking and knowing he deserves to have his ass handed to him. "oh."

"i'm still mad at you," you tell him, "and you're gonna have a lot of making up to do."

"i know," he says, "believe me, i know, and i'm ready. more than ready."

"and we have to be honest from here on out about everything. like we always should've been."

he nods his head quickly, "i know, yes. i agree. i completely agree."

"okay," you say simply, wanting so bad to smile at the shocked look on his face. "then...i'll forgive you."

the look on his face causes your heart to soar, his lips pressing into one another as his eyes gloss over.

"unless you cry," you say, the teasing in your tone causing him to smile. "you're supposed to be a bad boy and bad boys don't cry."

his deep chuckle booms through his room as he shakes his head, wrapping his arm around your waist as he pulls you into him. "there's that bad boy, talk, again," he says, "do you remember calling me out on my, what was the phrase, bad boy agenda?"

you giggle against his chest as you nod your head, shutting your eyes contently as you snuggle against his warm chest. he tightens his hold around you, placing a kiss to the top of your head when you suddenly blurt out, "some bad boy you are, liking me after the first date," you tease playfully, "i didn't even like you until after the third."

#why did i make yungi dance to gasolina you ask? #i simply do not have an answer #yeosang #yeosang angst #yeosang fluff #yeosang smut #ateez #ateez angst #ateez fluff #ateez smut

[drethanramslay]

A funny thing called Fate: Chapter 1

Pairing: Bryce X MC (Aisha Khurrana)

Word count: 2.6K words

Series Masterlist 

Masterlist

Warning: None really, just some cursing

Author's note: Hello!! I am back with the first chapter of "A funny thing called Fate" and this time this is in Bryce's POV

Like I said last time, there would be time jumps so you will be seeing both- 16 year old Bryce and present day Bryce

Just a word of caution, 16 year old Bryce (according to me) is your typical bad boy who is a jerk and upholds his reputation and prestige as the most important priorities

I decided to take part in @choicesseptemberchallenge20​ the prompt being- LOST

Also decided to take part in @choicesweeklychallenge​ the prompt being "I just... don't know. Honestly."

Both of them will be in bold

TERMS THAT YOU NEED TO KNOW:

-> kanilehua: Motherfucker (I literally googled curse words in Hawaiian language so please forgive me if they are wrong 🤧)

-> okole: Butt/ Ass

-> budhiya: old woman in Hindi

Forgive me if I make any mistakes

10 years ago- Bryce's POV

"Aloha!!" Bryce's cheerful voice ran clear through the hallways as he approached his teammates, instantly capturing the attention of the people.

"Hey Bryce, my man." Jason, his best friend stepped forward and did a complicated handshake with him before patting his back.

"How was the summer?" Kai, his other best friend spoke up as he leaned against the lockers, his dark hair falling on his eyes.

"You know the usual. Practice and stuff. My parents did take us to Australia. The waves there are sweet." Bryce whistled lowly, remembering how he spent numerous days surfing at sea.

"What a lucky bastard. Do you think your parents would adopt me?" Jason asked causing Kai to chuckle.

At this point, they would want anyone but me as their son. A dark look passed on his face but he hid it behind the over cheerful and happy go lucky mask.

"So, what's up with you guys?!" He asked, smoothly changing the topic.

Jason began. "Well I for one, had a fun summer hanging out at the beach, enjoying the sun-"

"-having flings left, right, centre." Kai completed the sentence, snickering.

"As if you weren't the one who fooled around more. You broke so many hearts, Kai!!" Jason rolled his eyes.

"But I finally settled down, unlike your unsettled ass." Kai exclaimed.

"50 bucks you will break up with him in ten days." Kai narrowed his green eyes and smacked the back of Jason’s head. 

"Wow, seems like I have some catching up to do." Bryce smirked.

Kai turned towards Bryce, suddenly serious. "Glad you brought it up. We have a proposition for you."

Bryce incredulously raised his eyebrow.

"Your two o'clock. Short brunette with glasses. Don't be too obvious."

Bryce ran his hand through his long hair and his amber eyes fell on the girl.

He leaned against the locker near Jason.

"What's her deal?"

"Apparently, she joined the school last year and has been on the low. Keeps to herself, certified nerd, teacher's pet and super uptight."

Bryce eyed her and he recognized that she was in his chemistry class last year.

Aisha Khurrana.

"Wait... That's Aisha. She was in my chemistry class last year. Introverted and quiet."

Jason did a double-take. "Wait really? Well, that makes it easier for us."

"Good. I will make y'all talk to her-"

Kai stopped him midway. "Woah, woah, woah. We don't want to interact with her. You are the one doing this."

"Will one of you kanilehua tell me what the fuck is going on?" Bryce asked, getting annoyed.

"After the legendary prank Ano pulled last year, it's time we step up. So while you were tanning your okole in Australia, Jason and I were brainstorming to come up with a better idea."

Jason continued. "So we decided that you could get her fall in love with you before the finals and boom! We could pull the prank on prom."

Bryce's eyed widened. "Woah, don't you think that's extreme?"

Kai rolled his eyes. "Please, Ano humiliated a teacher and exposed that he was having an affair with a junior. I don't think it's that extreme."

"What is this prank you have planned on prom?"

Jason waved his hand. "We haven't worked out the details but we have the entire year to do that. You on the other hand... Are running out of time."

Bryce's eyebrows furrowed. "And why can't either of you take this up?"

"Because Kai here is surprisingly getting cosy with Kaeo the jock from Sunset High while I am on the principal's radar for the shit I did last year. I am this close to getting expelled." Jason enunciated his point by touching his pointer finger and thumb.

"Jas... you're touching your fingers."

"Exactly."  

"So will you take one for the team?”

Bryce sighed. "I just... don't know. Honestly." 

“Bro, this could literally make or break our popularity bro. You don't want to be the laughing stock of the school, do you?" They asked with puppy eyes.

The peer pressure and the need to uphold his reputation as the golden boy made him raise his hands in defeat. His eyes glanced at the losers down the hall, who people were blatantly ignoring.

Definitely don't want to fall in that category.

"Fine. I will do it. But you will owe me."

"That's our boy." The boys whooped as they clapped his back.

Bryce's eyes wandered to his new target, finding her brown eyes staring right back at him. The flecks of hazel shone with curiosity but her face was impassive as if she didn't want to let anyone in.

Well, this is going to be an interesting year, Aisha Khurrana. Bryce thought to himself.

PRESENT

When Bryce woke up this morning, he didn't think his day would turn out this way.

Who would have fucking thought that the one girl you could never get over shows up at the hospital you are a surgical intern at?

Not me.

He was looking forward to this fresh start. A new city where no one knew who he was and he hoped it stayed that way. To hone his craft and become one of the best surgeons in the country. Anything to get rid of the stains on his name.

After Aisha left at the beginning of Junior year of high school, things were hard. Not that anyone was going to believe him but he actually loved her and no matter how many people he hooked up with, no matter how much he drank himself to oblivion, there was just no getting over her.

He often wondered- no believed that he had lost his one shot at love.

You only get one great love and of course, I had to blow it up, and for what? Popularity? Reputation? That already went down the drain because of my beloved dad.

When he finally got his head in the game and things were bearable, the scandal happened towards the end of the Senior year. Sure, he could hide face during the summers, lounging in his gaudy compound. But he could hear the occasional shouts and protests out of the gates of his home, reminding him that he couldn't escape the truth.

To distract himself from his dad going to trial, his mom selling out to the feds and his baby sister crying from the stress, he dove right into his studies, hoping to score well in his SATs so that he could get away from Maui.

But there was still one year of high school left, and that was fucking awful. He was relentlessly bullied at every turn of the corridor, got the stink eye from the teachers and people jumped away from him as if he was a social pariah.

Technically, I was.  

Though his parents were very tight-lipped about the details of the case, it wasn't that hard to get to know more from the internet. And the fact that the people in his school always made it a point to remind him.

Aisha's dad was one of the people who worked for the company that got screwed over by his dad.

Bryce had given up after all these years that he will ever find her again. He often wondered what would he do if he were to meet her again. The apologies he would say and the monologue on how ‘he was never the same after she left’ had been practised over and over again.

But right there she was, half-naked in front of him, completely at the loss of words. His eyes wandered, making sure if it was the same girl from tenth grade. There was a nose piercing and he saw a little ink near a hip.

"Aisha?" He repeated, completely shocked, his jaw dropped. Never in his entire life has he felt the loss of words.

They stared into each other's eyes, chocolate brown eyes meeting his amber ones, completely lost.

But that moment didn't last for long because Jackie shutting the locker made them realize that this was indeed reality.

Aisha managed to snap out of her reverie. "Oh my fucking god, I don't have time for this shit." She rapidly threw on her fresh sets of scrubs and slammed her locker before making a move.

Bryce stepped in her path, blocking her. "What are you doing here?!"

Her eyes snapped up to meet his, the familiar fire and hatred flooding in those brown orbs. "Well, I could ask you the same thing Mr. I-will-become-a-lawyer. Now out of my way, I'm getting late for the orientation." Though she was short (5 feet 3 inches to be precise), she still managed to slam her shoulder against his chest and walk away.

"Oh My God!!" Jackie's voice resounded after a few quiet moments.

"Put a cap on it nose wipe." He muttered as he rubbed the area where Aisha slammed against him.

"I didn't say anything."

"Yeah but that expression says it all." He rolled his eyes as put his stethoscope into his breast pocket.

"But, for real. Who is she?" Jackie asked, inquisitiveness laced in her voice.

Bryce flicked her nose. "I found your nose in my business, why don't you take it right out?"

"Ugh. Fine. Keep your secrets. C'mon, let us get to the orientation before it gets over."

"Yap. Right behind you."  The duo headed towards the main atrium and made their way towards the front so that they could hear the hospital chief. The rest of the interns were already gathered in front of the stairs upon which an impressive, statuesque woman stood and spoke.

That is Dr Harper Emery!! Bryce thought to himself, as the very thought of standing in the very same room as his inspiration made him giddy. He turned to talk but the excitement instantly vanished because thanks to his amazing luck, he ended up standing right next to Aisha.

The universe, what games are you playing against me? Bryce let out a sigh which caught Aisha's attention. She just gave an annoying glance and stared up, as if to ask why was this happening to her.

Both of them turned away from each other and focused on what Dr Emery was saying. "... because as of today, you are no longer students, You are doctors."

Aisha turned towards Jackie and whispered. "Psst. Who is that?"

Jackie whipped her head towards Aisha's short build. "I don't know if you are joking or are serious."

Aisha's ears getting red was the only confirmation Jackie needed. Her jaw dropped and she was physically incapacitated, unable to speak before she finally managed to string together words.

"Seriously? Did you learn medicine in the woods or something?"

Aisha's eyes narrowed and Bryce just knew that if he didn't intervene Aisha would absolutely roast Jackie and her lineage.

So, in a low voice, he spoke up. "That's Harper Emery, the hospital's new chief." A smile made his way on his face as he continued to talk about her. "She's a total badass! World-famous head of neurosurgery before she got promoted."

He turned towards Jackie, smirking. "Guess she's just a scalpel jockey too, huh?"

Giving a Cheshire grin she responded. "She's the only scalpel jockey who deserves rights."

Aisha gave a stiff nod before turning back towards the Chief.

Someone is definitely a ray of sunshine. Bryce thought to himself. His conscience promptly snarked. Bold of you to assume that this isn't your fault.

Brain... Stop. as he shook his head to shake off the guilt that slowly swirled in his chest.

"More will be demanded of you that you've ever experienced. Some of you will buckle under the pressure. Some of you will quit. But some... some of you will thrive."

"Damn... She is so inspiring... I feel like I can do anything." Aisha whispered, her brown eyes sparkling with admiration.

"Well then, can I inspire you to pipe down? I'm trying to listen."

"Can I inspire you to get your ears checked, budhiya?" Jackie looked offended but you could see the glint of amusement and respect in her eyes.

"Girls, can this fight wait until after the speech?" Bryce muttered.

"This is not fighting. This is us bonding scalpel jockey. Get on the same page." Jackie whispered causing Aisha to smirk.

"I give up. But please for the love of everything good can we keep it on the low." He shot a pleading look and they managed to shut up.

"You've been entrusted with a sacred duty: the care and wellbeing of every man, woman and child who enters this hospital. Are you ready?"

The interns promptly burst into applause and they look around, sharing excited smiles with their new colleagues.

Harper Emery raised her hand, to silence the applause. "You'll be introduced to your senior residents tomorrow but for now, you'll be partnering up for your first patients. Your assignments are posted on the board. Good luck, doctors!!"

Bryce swaggered up to his board and searched for his name and found out that he was paired with a Samantha.

Wait for a second... that name sounds fami-

"You?" He swirled around towards the feminine sound and as soon as his eyes landed on her, the memories hit him.

Him running his hands through her hair whilst they kissed passionately against the door of her apartment. Her running her hands down his abs and pulling him by the loops of his belt. Both of them lost in the sensation of each other and Bryce still had the scratch marks on his back to remind him of the amazing night they had the previous day.

"Sam? I didn't know you worked here!!"

"Well fate is a funny thing, isn't it? So apparently we are partners?"

"Yap and we need to take our cases from the residents and be on our way. Are you ready?" Bryce asked, a smirk playing on his lips.

"I was born ready baby." Sam winked as she started pushing her way through the throng of interns and Bryce followed suit.

When they finally were free, Jackie showed up next to him followed by Aisha and another girl who had a striking resemblance to Chief Emery.

"See you later meathead."

"Try not to miss me too much." He winked before glancing towards Aisha. Their eyes met and she immediately looked the other way, chatting with her partner.

"It's a beautiful day to save lives. Let's have some fun, shall we?" Sam asked her eyes twinkling which just made Bryce smile.

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

It was going good so far. He had been allotted two cases that day. One with a routine appendectomy and the second one being a benign tumour removal from the right lung. With a cool, calm collected mind, the two of them diagnosed the patients, raising eyebrows.

"Dr Lahela, what is the treatment plan?" Dr Tanaka, the head of cardiovascular surgery asked.

"Well we are administering her with tumour shrinking drugs like bromocriptine so that we could decrease the size and then after a couple of days we will take her for surgery."

Dr Tanaka gave a nod of appreciation. Sam turned and held the young patient's hand. "Miss, you are in good hands and if you have any more questions you can always ask for us."

"Thank you so much, Dr Anderson."

They stepped out of the room and Bryce shut the door behind them.

"Keep an eye on her and do checks every four hours. Good job." Dr Tanaka turned on his heels and only when he was out of earshot Sam fist-bumped Bryce.

"The surgical society is back at it again."

"God Sam that was awful." He groaned as he pulled his pen out to sign the charts.

"Well, that just means I need to keep thinking of names for the dynamic duo. See you later byeee."

He shook his head and gave the charts to the nurses' station before whistling down the confusing corridors of Edenbrook when suddenly he heard a thud sound from the nearby supply closet.

Must be a doctor who is not having a good day.

He stopped before the door, contemplating whether he should enter or leave but his instinct to help overpowered and he cracked open the door to see Aisha leaning heavily against the racks, her back towards him. Her shoulders were shaking and he could hear her heavy breathing.

He was about to leave unnoticed when Aisha’s voice wafted over to him. “get in or get out. Don’t hold it open.” She glanced towards the door and Bryce knew that he could kiss his unnoticed exit goodbye.

Oh boy. 

Oh? so we have a new character 👀 And um that really wasn't the reunion Bryce was looking forward to lol

And now the supply closet yikes yikes yikes okay now i will shut up heheheh

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[wiypt-writes]

Leave No One Behind

Ch 11- Mama Don’t Preach Part 2 Co written with @icanfeelastormbrewing​

Episode Summary: It’s Hannah’s turn to head home for a week to see her Mama, and there’s a surprise request waiting for her too. Meanwhile, back in Sudan Ari’s left holding the baby...or in this case, puppy…

Episode Warnings: Bad Language words. Smut (NSFW, 18+ only)- in Part 2

Episode Pairings:  Ari Levinson x OFC Hannah Horowitz

Leave No One Behind Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Part 1

The morning the tourist board visit was due Ari woke up early, which was unusual ever since he started sharing the bed with Hannah. Actually, it wasn't that unusual, he was still an early bird but he liked to lay in with her in his arms once both of them were awake until they heard someone else was up and it was time for them to tend to breakfast for the guests. He stretched and turned his head a little, grinning as he felt Hannah’s face by his head, but then he wrinkled his nose as she was licking his ear.

Ok, so that was new.

"Han…" he chuckled "Babe…"

Then there was a little whine followed by a tiny bark. Ari frowned and opened one eye to realise that it was in fact Simon’s tongue that was stuck in his ear.

"Gross pal… gross." he groaned as he shoved the dog away from his face. Ari then rolled onto his back and ran a hand through his hair, smiling as he realised Hannah was due back that day. 7 long days and nights without her, it had been crap. And he had to admit, he hadn’t been in a great mood. In fact, if he was being fully honest, he was totally aware he had been a nightmare to the rest of the team. And he still wasn’t particularly pleased he couldn’t go pick her up but… well, she’d be home in… he reached over for his watch and saw it was just gone 7:30 so she’d be home in round about 5 hours all things considered. 

That made him smile again, it really wasn’t long at all now. So he stretched out, before he swung his legs out of bed, got dressed, shoved on his sneakers and then whistled to Simon. He opened his door and stepped out onto the sand, the sea lightly illuminated by the early morning sun, and the two of them headed out for a run before the rest of the resort awoke. 

About an hour or so later after a jog and a slower walk down the coast path Ari returned, showered and headed down to the main building. The rest of the team was already at the table for breakfast. After nodding to a few guests he sat down next to Sammy, reaching for the coffee pot.

"Morning." he greeted, his tone chipper, as he poured a cup.

"Oh my God." Max gasped.

"What?"

Max ignored Ari and turned to Jake instead. "Did you see that?"

Jake nodded. "I know man, I can’t believe it."

“Believe what? Ari asked, looking around the table.

"You, smiling." Max explained with a grin across his face.

Ari rolled his eyes. "Oh, fuck off."

Besides him Sammy sniggered so Ari playfully gave him a dig with his elbow and Sammy laughed even harder, rubbing his side.

"I’m glad you’re in a good mood today because Madibo will be here in 2 hours or so and we don’t need a bratty owner. So you need to stay as charming Guy Thomas and not the sulking, whiny bitch you’ve been for the past week." Rachel instructed, looking intently at him.

Ari was about to argue but Rachel narrowed her eyes at him and he sighed, shrugging. Truth be told he had no argument. 

"Oh he’ll be charming alright… but not for Madibo." Jake joked and Max let out his characteristic laugh. 

"Oh come on, I’ve not been that bad." Ari tried to defend himself.

The entire table started to scoff and took turns in pointing out to him that he had been that bad and Ari snorted, shaking his head.

"You’ve been worse than Sammy is." Rachel deadpanned but her eyes were soft on Sammy who played the offended victim

"Hey!"

"She’s right." Max agreed.

"Ok, I’ll admit…I’ve been a little bit tetchy." Ari said as he lowered his head in defeat.

"I bet when me or Max leave no one is gonna bat an eyelid." Max quipped. At that point Simon barked and Jake acknowledged him

 "Thanks buddy, I’ll miss you too."

There was a roar of laughter and then Sammy turned to Ari. "You know tetchy doesn’t even begin to describe it."

"Fuck you Sammy." Ari jokingly retorted.

Sammy laughed and stood up. "All right, I’m so overwhelmed with the love you are all giving me this morning."

"What are you doing? Sit down and shut up." Ari commanded, shaking his head.

"I can’t. I need to shower and then set off to pick my sister up. You remember her?"

"No, he doesn’t. Absolutely not…" Max said playfully.

"You know what, Navon…" Ari trailed off as Sammy grinned at him as he snatched up another piece of toast and left the table. "Drive safe! Be careful with the cargo" Ari called across the room.

Max and Jake both snorted as Sammy flicked Ari the bird over his shoulder before he left the room. And Rachel sighed before she demanded their attention and started telling them her plan for Madibo.

"So Jake is going to start with the diving area, show him the facilities, how we run the tours, take him out on a boat to show him the diving spots from the surface."

"Yeah if I take him over the wreck he’ll be able to see it." Jake offered.

Rachel nodded before continuing. "Then a tour of the rest of the facility, show him what we’ve done with the place. He can speak to a few guests. I don't know, see the guest book and the reviews. And then lunch."

"Great, sounds good. Where do you want me?" Ari asked.

"With Madibo. At all times. You’re the owner. You did the negotiations with him." she explained and Ari nodded.

"Ok. Stuck to Madibo it is.”

"Am I doing anything?" Max asked.

"Like what? Showing him how you twist and bend in your pyjama pants." Jake replied, throwing him a piece of toast from his plate.

"Says the tanning scarecrow." Max glared at him as he dodge the flying food.

"Don't play with the food.” Ari instructed before he looked at Max “And actually you can keep an eye on Simon."

 "Are you sure you trust me with your itty bitty baby puppy?" Max looked at Ari questioning his suggestion. "Just two days ago you wanted to kill me for, and I quote, pup-napping your precious pooch."

"Better than letting him fuck Madibo’s leg." Jake scoffed.

"Exactly… that or biting him." Ari sided with Jake.

"He wouldn’t hump him. It's been a week since he saw that. Dogs have short term memories." Max offered casually.

"Ok, now shut the fuck up." Ari raised his voice.

"No, they don’t! How do they remember to sit and lay down if they only have a short term memory?" Jake inquired.

"Same as you remember to get dressed in the morning but can’t remember what you ate yesterday." Max explained and shrugged.

"Will you all shut up and help me clear the table?" Rachel said, standing up to remark with her actions she wanted the nonsense to be over.

 "Not sure I remember how." Jake snorted, amused at his own wit, which earned him a slap round the back of the head from Rachel.

**** The line for passport control was taking for ever and Hannah was losing patience. She had always hated this part of travelling plus her feeling of impatience was compounded by knowing that Ari was literally the other side of the door she could see. Finally she was called forward and after smiling at the Immigration officer who stamped her passport she walked through with her bag in her hand and out of the doors into the warm Sudan air. She glanced around for Ari, ready to leap into his arms, but she couldn’t see him. Instead she spotted Sammy waiting by the jeep. He smiled and came towards her and she grinned back, giving him a hug.

“Try not to look too disappointed I’m not Ari.” Her brother chuckled and Hannah snorted.

“Oh shut up, I’m just as happy to see you”

“Yeah right!” Sammy pulled back and picked up her bag as Hannah gave a roll of her eyes and followed him back to the jeep.

“How’s everyone been?” she asked.

“Good.” Sammy nodded “Ari nearly killed Max and Jake on Monday.” He tossed her bag into the back.

“Why?” Hannah asked as she climbed into the car.

“They took Simon out on the boat. Ari thought he’d lost him…kinda went a little bit mad, not as mad as he did when he got told he couldn’t pick you up.”

“Yeah why is that?”

“We got a tourist board visit.” Sammy answered as he set off “He’s with Colonel Madibo now, so when you arrive, you’re Rosa…”

“Noted.” Hannah nodded “So other than that has everyone been ok?”

“Yeah, other than Ari, he’s been a pain in the ass. Clinging to that dog like it’s his fucking kid…”

Hannah grinned and looked out of the window as they eased onto the main freeway out of the city. But, after a few minutes or so her grin slipped.  Sarah’s words had been stuck in her mind all day and night, and the worst bit about their conversation yesterday was that Hannah had wanted to tell Sarah she was wrong. She’d wanted to defend Ari but had been unable to because Sarah was right. He had put them second. And if Sarah’s comments about how Ari had refused to go to her wedding because he had still loved her were true, then that made her feel even worse about the whole situation, that she could somehow be responsible for Ari being the reckless asshole he was with regards to his marriage.

Hannah needed reassurance more than anything, reassurance that wasn’t the case and also an affirmation that once all this was over, he wasn’t just going to swan off into the sunset and leave her behind again. And whilst she could understand that he might not quit this life, and Hannah was ok with that, she knew that it could work because she’d seen her mother and father do so, what worried her was that her dad had manage to strike a balance . She wasn’t sure that Ari would be able to.

The only thing she did know was that if she had to watch Ari walk away again, it would kill her.

**** Ari, Rachel, Madibo and the two men he’d brought with him were just finishing lunch when Ari heard the sound of the jeep approaching. He tried to bite back his smile and caught Rachel’s eye. The look on her face told him his was failing, miserably.  

“Do we have company Mr Thomas?” Colonel Madibo frowned and looked at him, clearly having picked up the sound of the engine which was now louder as the jeep had pulled up outside. Ari hesitated and then thought, what the hell. He and Hannah weren’t a secret, plus the team had already stated at length how much it actually added to their cover. He took a deep breath and looked at the man, smiling “It’s My girlfriend, Rosa-“ Ari didn’t miss the smile that flickered across Rachel’s face when he uttered the words “-she’s been home to Spain for a week to see her mother. One of the other guys went to pick her up before.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you were running this place as a partnership?” Madibo looked at him and Ari took a breath

“We weren’t…it’s…” he paused, rubbing his neck “…well, it’s a long story but we go way back and…”

“Say no more Mr Thomas, I get it.” Madibo grinned “The magic of the Red Sea” The man turned his head to look out of the large open lattice doors across the beach before he turned back to Ari “There is something very romantic about being by the ocean.”

“There certainly is.” Ari agreed with a smile. At that point he heard Hannah’s voice drifting down the hallway into the dining room as she jabbered away to her brother, her Spanish accent impeccable thanks to Sammy clearly having warned her about their visitors. Ari turned to look as she walked into the room dressed casually in jeans and a light blue button down sleeveless blouse. Her eyes met his and she beamed at him, a flash of what looked like relief crossed her face and he grinned, standing up. He crossed towards her and gave her a hug.

“Hi.” Hannah said gently into his ear.

“Hi yourself.” He replied, pulling back and giving her a quick kiss “Was your flight ok?”

Hannah nodded “No brat kicking my chair so…”

Ari laughed and then looked at Sammy who raised his eyebrows in the direction of the table. Slipping back in to professional, Guy Thomas mode he nodded and smiled.

“Come on guys, let me introduce you to our guests.” He took Hannah’s hand and led her to the table. “Colonel Madibo this is Rosa Garcia, she’s in charge of guest relations and this is Liam Anderson…” Ari gestured to Sammy “Our entertainment manager who also doubles up as our site doctor.”

“Pleasure to meet you both.” Madibo rose from his chair. He shook Sammy’s and then took Hannah’s clamping his other hand over the top of hers. He looked at her, smiling, before he turned to Ari “You are a lucky man Mr Thomas.”

Ari raised his eyebrows and smiled, looking at Hannah who flushed as Madibo let go of her hand. “I sure am.” He then turned to Hannah and frowned a little at the look on her face. She was smiling, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes, almost like she was nervous. Maybe she was, after all, Madibo and his guard were quite imposing when all was said and done.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but I’ve had a long flight and need to freshen up.” She spoke, a little shyly “Would you please excuse me?”

“Of course, of course Miss Garcia.” Madibo bowed a little “It was a pleasure to meet you.” “You too Colonel.” She smiled, and turned to give Rachel a quick hug before she reached for her bag.

“I’ll do that.” Ari offered “I’ll fetch it in a little while.”

“Ok, thanks” she nodded, before she turned to leave, but paused, spinning back to look at Ari “Where’s Simon.” “With Max and Jake.” Ari said.

She nodded and gave them all another stiff sile before she scurried away.

Now Ari was sure something was bothering her. He looked at Sammy for some kind of clue but he was clearly as puzzled as he was as he shrugged slightly. He then turned to Rachel who met him with a blank look of her own. But, before he could dwell on it too much, Madibo spoke again causing Ari to turn back to him.

“We should be going anyway now, but I’m pleased with what you’ve done with the place.” The Colonel looked around, smiling “My report back to the President will be very favourable.”

“All free of charge, I hope.” Ari quipped and Madibo laughed, pointing at him

“You’re a funny man Mr Thomas!”

Rachel shot Ari a warning look and he simply shrugged, giving her a cheeky grin. They followed Madibo and his 2 guards out to the truck where they shook hands, thanked him for coming and bid him goodbye. No sooner had the truck gone Ari strode back inside, picked up Hannah’s bag and headed off towards her hut. She hadn’t made it back there, however, instead he found her halfway down the beach, crouching on the sand by Max with Simon going bananas as he jumped all over her, his tail wagging furiously, excited little whines coming from him as he licked her face.

“You happy to see momma buddy?” Ari chuckled as he stopped by her side.

“No, that’s his sad face.” Max deadpanned and Ari laughed, dropping a hand to Hannah’s head, gently caressing her hair.

“You ok Firefly?”

“Yeah, just tired.” Hannah stood up and looked at him.

“Wanna go rest?” he asked, his mind straying to the fact he was quite happy to go curl up next to her on the bed, maybe a little bit of something else, and from the snort that came from Max he wasn’t the only one thinking such things. “Piss off.” Ari turned to him, raising an eyebrow.

Max laughed “I’m gone…” Hannah and Ari both watched him leave and Ari wrapped his arms round Hannah’s back, pulling her into him, giving her a deep kiss. He pulled away, his nose bumping hers. “Wanna go lay down for a while?” Hannah shook her head. “No, if I do I won’t sleep later. Think I’m gonna get changed and hit the beach.” She said, glancing around.

“Oh, ok.” Ari tried not to sound too disappointed. He hadn’t seen her in over a week and she was pushing him away.  Now he knew for sure something was wrong, but he also knew if he pushed her too hard she’d clam up even more. Hannah looked at him, and he clearly hadn’t done as good a job of hiding his disappointment as he hoped as she took a deep breath, sliding her arms round his waist as she pressed into him, her cheek against his chest.

“I have something for you from Maya.” She said gently

Ari looked down frowning “You saw Maya?”

“No, I saw Sarah.”

“What?” his frown deepened.

“She left a note with Ethan, asking me to call her.” Hannah shrugged, stepping back.

“Why?”

“She wanted to talk to me.”

“What about?”

“Take a guess Ari” Hannah sighed and went to pick up her bag. Ari bat her hand away and picked it up, taking her hand in his spare as they walked silently towards her hut, Simon trotting in front of them. For the first time in weeks it was a little awkward between them, Ari unsure exactly what to say whereas Hannah was simply exhausted both physically and mentally. The relief she had felt upon seeing Ari had melted away and she was back to dwelling on what Sarah had said. Once they were inside her hut, Ari dropped Hannah’s bag on her bed. Without a word she reached into it and pulled out the envelope addressed to Daddy. Ari took it, glanced at the writing on the front, his breath catching a little before he looked at Hannah. “You know, you didn’t need to meet her.”

“Well I did, it wasn’t a big deal.”

“It clearly is.” Ari bit back, an air of frustration in his voice “I can tell somethings bothering you Hannah, so what did she want?”

“She was just curious I guess.” “Curious about what?” Ari’s temper was starting to fray and Hannah let out a growl of annoyance.

“About, us Ari, what do you think? She basically asked me outright if I loved you, then told me to ask you why you never came to my wedding and…” she paused as Ari groaned as he ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. “She said it was because you couldn’t bear to see me marry someone else.” Hannah looked at Ari, shaking her head. “Is that true?”

“Hannah, does it really matter?”

“It matters to me, yes!”

Ari sighed, looking down at the floor as he shook his head “Look, I loved Sarah, you know this…”

“For fucks sake, just tell me the truth Ari!”

“Yes, ok!” Ari snapped “The reason I didn’t come is because the thought of you with anyone else, well it made me sick. That what you wanted to hear?”

Hannah looked at him, blinking before she shrugged. “I don’t know to be honest with you.”

“Han…” “She made me feel like shit, Ari!” Hannah looked up at him, tears in her eyes “She basically said you’d been in love with me for the entire time you’d been married to her, that she was second best and…”

“For fucks sake…” Ari shook his head “She had no right to put that on you, no right at all.”

Hannah looked down at her feet, “I can’t blame her, Ari. I’d be the same in her position.”

Ari swallowed as he glanced at his feet, looking again at the letter in his hand before he raised his head to Hannah once more. “Did she say anything else?”

Hannah snorted “She wished me good luck, said I was gonna need it.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Ari bit back angrily and Hannah let out a scoff.

“She meant when all this is over, the mission and we go back home.” She glanced at Ari and he was surprised now to see the angry fire in her eyes. “She said that she had never managed to stop you leaving before, even when she was pregnant and was basically implying that once we’re home and out of this little bubble then it would all be different and you’d leave me behind…”

“Ok, no, stop…” Ari held his hand up, tossing the letter onto her bed. “Firefly, listen…” he gently took her face in his hands “That’s not gonna happen. I told you before, I’m not letting you go again.”

“I know you did, and I believe you I do.” She shook her head “And I know that it’s different for us because I’ve lived this life too and I get what being in Mossad means, you know, my mom and dad made it work, but I just…oh, I can’t explain Ari.

“Try, please.” Ari looked at her, his hands gripping her face a little more, his thumbs stroking large arcs over her cheeks.

“I’m not sure you know how to strike a balance Ari. Between this and-“ she blinked and looked down as Ari licked his lips as his hands dropped to her hips.

“Hannah, it’s irrelevant…” “What do you mean it’s irrelevant?” she frowned “I think it’s highly relevant all things considered!”

“Look…” Ari took a deep breath “I never told you this, hell, I never told anyone this because I still wasn’t totally sure until a few weeks ago  but I’ve kinda decided that this mission is gonna be my last one in the field.” Whatever Hannah had been expecting Ari to say, it wasn’t that. As the implications of his words crashed over her she could do nothing but gape at him as he shrugged and continued.

“I’m 37 this year sweetheart, I've been doing this for longer than I care to remember. It’s dangerous and, well I’ve missed so much of Maya growing up I don’t wanna miss anymore or god forbid leave her behind for good should something happen.” He sighed, “Sarah’s right. I was a shit husband and a shit dad, I owe it to Maya to a least be a little less shit going forward.”

“Ari, I…” Hannah took a deep breath and shook her head “I’m not asking you to quit…” “I know.” He assured her, “And with the greatest of respect, I’m not doing it for you, I’m doing it for Munch.”

The relief crashed over Hannah in a wave. She’d been scared, not simply that Sarah had been right, but that if he did quit it would be for her, putting her first, and she didn’t want that. His daughter should be top of his priority list and to hear that it had finally hit home to him, well, it brought her a reprieve from the nagging feeling of guilt and turmoil she’d been feeling since she’d left that coffee shop in Tel Aviv. She looked up at her man, the smile creeping across her face and he dropped his head to rest against hers.

“Is that all that was bothering you?” he asked softly and she nodded in response. “So, are we good?”

“Yeah, we’re good.”

“Thank fuck for that, because I really wanna kiss you Han.”

She grinned and blinked looking up at him. “Nothing stopping you.”

With a flick of his eyebrow, Ari pulled her closer and dropped his face to hers, pressing their lips together. He kissed her softly at first before his tongue slid across her bottom lip and she opened her mouth, letting out a soft sigh. Ari’s tongue lashed against the roof of her mouth as his hand slid upwards, tangling in her hair, the kiss deepening…

And then there was a knock at the door, punctuated by a responding bark from Simon.

“For fucks sake…” Ari groaned, as Hannah shrugged a little, moving to open it.

Rachel peered back at her, a little sheepishly “Sorry to intrude but, well, I wasn’t sure if you’d be joining us for dinner?”

“Dur.” Hannah nodded back as behind her, Ari sat on the edge of her bed, picking up the letter from Maya.

“Ok, I’ll let Aziz know. I’ll leave you to it.” Rachel smiled, and with that she was gone. Hannah turned round to see Ari opening the letter, pulling out the paper from the envelope.

“If you want to read that alone, I won’t be offended.” She began but Ari shook his head. Silently, Hannah sat next to him as he began to ready Maya’s untidy scrawl, his eyes misting over. It was nothing out of the ordinary, telling him about school, her friends, how Sarah had taken her to the zoo the previous weekend and she’d seen a man holding a snake, the typical ramblings he’d expect from a 7-almost 8-year old, but it was the first ever letter he’d had from her when on a mission and it choked him up, especially the bit when he said she hoped that Simon and Hannah were both ok too.

“She err…” Ari swallowed and looked at Hannah who gently reached out and brushed a tear from his cheek, a tear he hadn’t realise he’d shed “She says she hopes you and Simon are both ok.” Hannah smiled “Yeah, Sarah said she’d asked after me.”

“Han…” his voice broke and Hannah sighed, wrapping her arms around him as he buried his face into the crook of her shoulder. This was a side to Ari Levinson that very few people knew existed, a vulnerable, almost childish side. A side that just wanted to be comforted and loved, seeking out strength instead of giving it. Hannah knew that everyone took it for granted that he was the stalwart, forever stoic leader and forgot that underneath the cool agent façade there was a gentle, kind man. A flawed human, but a human all the same.  She gently rubbed at his back as he sniffed a little, pressing his face further into her neck. Hannah dropped a kiss to the top of his head and he pulled away, wiping at his eyes.

“You know…” she said softly, her head pressing to his “I really did miss the beach. Reckon Guy can sneak an afternoon off to spend with Rosa?” “Guy can take as much time to spend with Rosa as Rosa wants.” He smiled, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

***** After clearing it with Rachel that neither of them were needed, the pair of them spent a nice afternoon together. They took 3 mile walk round the cliff edge, Simon examining the usual nooks and crannies as they walked hand in hand behind him. The sun blazed hot on both their necks and even in the late afternoon it showed no sign of giving up as they made their way back to the resort. Choosing a secluded spot away from any guests, not far from their cave, they flopped down onto the sand. Hannah pulled off her sundress and lay back as Ari shed his T-shirt and sat next to her, watching her for a moment, simply drinking her in before he lay back next to her and they continued to talk and laugh.  An hour or so later, just as the sun was starting to dip to the horizon, both were sticky and sweaty from the heat, and when Hannah suggested they should shower up before dinner Ari quipped he had a better idea.

“What…” Hannah’s voice turned into a shriek as Ari scooped her up and began walking quickly to the sea. “Lobo, don’t you dare!”

“Dare what?” he asked, wading in a little so the water was lapping at his waist.

“You know what!” she clung round his neck, laughing a little.

“No, sorry, can’t hear you…” he shook his head, wading a little further towards the spot he knew the shallow sand underneath him dropped a little, making the water deeper and cooler. Hannah glared at him and struggled in his arms

“I fucking swear to God…” but she was cut off as Ari gently tossed her into the waves where she disappeared under. She broke surface a split second later, spluttering as she wiped her hair back out of her face and saw Ari laughing at her, his entire handsome face creased up as his head tipped back, right hand reaching for his left pec. "El cabron..." she hissed the Spanish word for asshole at him, just one of the many insults in her mama's native tongue that he recognised, and swept her arm in a huge arc over the surface of the ocean, sending a wave of sorts straight over Ari's head. Shaking his hair off his face with the manner of a dog, Ari chuckled and reached out for her, his fingers digging and teasing a little  on her ribs where he knew she was especially sensitive. She wriggled a little, her hands resting on his broad chest as she tried to push away. Ari wasn't letting go though but he took pity, laughing as her head tipped back a little, her hands sliding up towards his face. Her delicate fingers tangled in his beard and she looked at him as his hands settled on her hips, guiding her towards him a little more. Her legs wrapped around his waist as it was too deep for her to stand up, and Ari remained with his feet planted on the soft sandy floor of the ocean, large hands on her back, submerged to his shoulders. And for the first time in a week, Ari felt at peace. "I missed you Firefly." He said softly as her lips gently brushed his before she pulled back to study his face, her arms round his neck. "I missed you too Mi Lobo." She smiled, her blue eyes as deep as the ocean they were currently bobbing in sparkled with love and lust and Ari's mouth was drier than it had ever been in his life. He felt a twitch in his groin, his arousal spiking and he actively fought back the groan that was bubbling in his throat. Fuck, she could reduce him to an absolute wreck, bring him to his knees both physically and metaphorically with a simple look in his direction. He needed her. "I'm thirsty Firefly..." he could taste the salt on her skin as his lips brushed her ear and she gave a shudder at his words, and he knew why. They were the same words he'd spoken to her one night when they had been together the first time round and Ari had been away for a week. He'd likened not seeing her to being deprived of water, to which she'd called him a dramatic asshole and laughed. Which was precisely what she was doing now. “There’s water everywhere.” Her voice was loaded with humour yet carried an undercover of suggestiveness his hands slid down to cup her ass. “But not a drop to drink.” He arched an eyebrow as he flexed his hips up slightly, bumping his semi-erect cock up against her core. Hannah gave a little moan as she clung to Ari, before she arched into him even more, pressing her lips to his. Ari kissed her, furiously, tongues thrashing together as their teeth clashed, Ari's large hands sliding up Hannah's back, pinning her to him. One hand moved down her spine and slid round and over her hips, dipping into her bikini bottoms. Hannah gave a dirty croak in her throat as he started teasing her clit, his movements slow and deliberate and her hips soon began to work against his hand, desperately seeking out a way to satisfy the craving his touch was giving her. She was on fire. She wanted more, she needed more. "Ari..." she whispered, licking her lips as she reached down and wrapped a hand around his wrist. "Wanna feel you..." "Yeah?" His lips brushed hers and she nodded as his fingers plunged into her channel making her cry out. "Feel me like that?" She panted as his fingers continued, coaxing her to the brink. Hannah closed her eyes as she teetered on that edge, so close to falling but Ari stopped his movements abruptly. She gave a little choked moan at being so close but when she felt him shift underneath her, his hands leaving her body, she knew she wasn't going to feel dissatisfied for much longer. She felt the material of his swim shorts brush against her leg as he moved them down and she pressed her lips to his, kissing him again. His hand gently moved her swimwear bottoms to one side as she dropped one hand from his shoulder into the water, taking his cock in her palm causing him to hiss as she lined him up. With a slow, power full thrust upwards he filled her and Hannah rolled her head back in pleasure, her mouth open in a silent moan as she welcomed the familiar stretch. “God, Ari..." she gasped, her bikini clad breasts jostling with the staccato breath as she rose slightly out of the water. Her nails were biting his skin as her hands tightened on his shoulders. Her back was arched, her beautiful body open to him, and when Ari bottomed out he laid his forehead on her chest and breathed in. "My good girl, takes me so well..." he praised as he kissed her skin trailing a path up her sternum and throat until he met her lips, the salt from her skin was tangy on his taste buds. He began to trust slowly, deeply, rolling his hips as Hannah worked herself on him, desperately. “More.” she begged and Ari all but growled at her plea. "I need more, Lobo..." Ari rutted upwards furiously, over and over and Hannah's back arched in pleasure. He leaned forward, nipping at her neck, then soothing the sting of his bites with his tongue as he slid his hand into her hair at the base of her skull and pressed his lips to hers, keeping her head anchored in place. The kiss because sloppy and she panted into his mouth, lips parted. "Ari...I'm gonna..."  her words died off as Ari kissed her again swallowing the involuntary shaky whimper she made as she came, clenching around him. He thrust through her orgasm, picking up the pace as he rushed towards his own end and with a deep thrust he stilled as the pleasure pulsed through him, his cock twitching as he emptied himself inside her. With a few final and shallow thrusts he stilled, his forehead resting against hers as he breathed deeply, eyes closed, waiting for the world to right itself. 

“You ok?” Ari asked, his breathing deep and Hannah gave a soft hum of response as his nose brushed against hers, as she opened her eyes to look at him, her entire face lit up with that blissful happiness he’d come to know and love even more this time round.

It was pretty dark now, and aware that they were in the middle of the ocean, Ari pulled back and placed a kiss to Hannah’s head.

“Come on Firefly, it’s been a long day. Let’s get some dinner and then we can go to bed.” He said softly and she gave a little sigh as he shifted, pulling out of her, readjusting his shorts all the while keeping her supported. She kept her legs round his waist as he walked them to the shallower water and then when he attempted to stand up she refused to let go, giving a giggle as he sighed, shaking his head. “Seriously?”

“You said yourself, it’s been a long day.” She grinned “I’m tired.” “You’re actually gonna make me carry you up the beach?”

“Yup.” She nodded.

“Fucking brat.” He snorted and she laughed, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“If you’re a good boy and do as I ask, then maybe after dinner I’ll show you how grateful I am.”

“Well, when you put it like that…” Ari grinned and stood up quickly hooking his arms under her legs as he swooped her up out of the water, bridal style. Her laughs carried across the slight breeze as he walked them down the still warm, sugar white sand towards her hut.

**** Chapter 12 Part 1

#leave no one behind #Ari Levinson #ari levinson x ofc #ari levinson x original female character #red sea diving resort #chris evans #chris evans characters

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Leave No One Behind

Ch 11- Mama Don’t Preach Part 2

Co written with @icanfeelastormbrewing​

Episode Summary: It’s Hannah’s turn to head home for a week to see her Mama, and there’s a surprise request waiting for her too. Meanwhile, back in Sudan Ari’s left holding the baby...or in this case, puppy…

Episode Warnings: Bad Language words. Smut (NSFW, 18+ only)- in Part 2

Episode Pairings:  Ari Levinson x OFC Hannah Horowitz

Song for Episode:  

A/N: Please read Part 1 first…

The morning the tourist board visit was due Ari woke up early, which was unusual ever since he started sharing the bed with Hannah. Actually, it wasn't that unusual, he was still an early bird but he liked to lay in with her in his arms once both of them were awake until they heard someone else was up and it was time for them to tend to breakfast for the guests. He stretched and turned his head a little, grinning as he felt Hannah’s face by his head, but then he wrinkled his nose as she was licking his ear.

Ok, so that was new.

"Han…" he chuckled "Babe…"

Then there was a little whine followed by a tiny bark. Ari frowned and opened one eye to realise that it was in fact Simon’s tongue that was stuck in his ear.

"Gross pal… gross." he groaned as he shoved the dog away from his face. Ari then rolled onto his back and ran a hand through his hair, smiling as he realised Hannah was due back that day. 7 long days and nights without her, it had been crap. And he had to admit, he hadn’t been in a great mood. In fact, if he was being fully honest, he was totally aware he had been a nightmare to the rest of the team. And he still wasn’t particularly pleased he couldn’t go pick her up but… well, she’d be home in… he reached over for his watch and saw it was just gone 7:30 so she’d be home in round about 5 hours all things considered. 

That made him smile again, it really wasn’t long at all now. So he stretched out, before he swung his legs out of bed, got dressed, shoved on his sneakers and then whistled to Simon. He opened his door and stepped out onto the sand, the sea lightly illuminated by the early morning sun, and the two of them headed out for a run before the rest of the resort awoke. 

About an hour or so later after a jog and a slower walk down the coast path Ari returned, showered and headed down to the main building. The rest of the team was already at the table for breakfast. After nodding to a few guests he sat down next to Sammy, reaching for the coffee pot.

"Morning." he greeted, his tone chipper, as he poured a cup.

"Oh my God." Max gasped.

"What?"

Max ignored Ari and turned to Jake instead. "Did you see that?"

Jake nodded. "I know man, I can’t believe it."

“Believe what? Ari asked, looking around the table.

"You, smiling." Max explained with a grin across his face.

Ari rolled his eyes. "Oh, fuck off."

Besides him Sammy sniggered so Ari playfully gave him a dig with his elbow and Sammy laughed even harder, rubbing his side.

"I’m glad you’re in a good mood today because Madibo will be here in 2 hours or so and we don’t need a bratty owner. So you need to stay as charming Guy Thomas and not the sulking, whiny bitch you’ve been for the past week." Rachel instructed, looking intently at him.

Ari was about to argue but Rachel narrowed her eyes at him and he sighed, shrugging. Truth be told he had no argument. 

"Oh he’ll be charming alright… but not for Madibo." Jake joked and Max let out his characteristic laugh. 

"Oh come on, I’ve not been that bad." Ari tried to defend himself.

The entire table started to scoff and took turns in pointing out to him that he had been that bad and Ari snorted, shaking his head.

"You’ve been worse than Sammy is." Rachel deadpanned but her eyes were soft on Sammy who played the offended victim

"Hey!"

"She’s right." Max agreed.

"Ok, I’ll admit…I’ve been a little bit tetchy." Ari said as he lowered his head in defeat.

"I bet when me or Max leave no one is gonna bat an eyelid." Max quipped. At that point Simon barked and Jake acknowledged him

 "Thanks buddy, I’ll miss you too."

There was a roar of laughter and then Sammy turned to Ari. "You know tetchy doesn’t even begin to describe it."

"Fuck you Sammy." Ari jokingly retorted.

Sammy laughed and stood up. "All right, I’m so overwhelmed with the love you are all giving me this morning."

"What are you doing? Sit down and shut up." Ari commanded, shaking his head.

"I can’t. I need to shower and then set off to pick my sister up. You remember her?"

"No, he doesn’t. Absolutely not…" Max said playfully.

"You know what, Navon…" Ari trailed off as Sammy grinned at him as he snatched up another piece of toast and left the table. "Drive safe! Be careful with the cargo" Ari called across the room.

Max and Jake both snorted as Sammy flicked Ari the bird over his shoulder before he left the room. And Rachel sighed before she demanded their attention and started telling them her plan for Madibo.

"So Jake is going to start with the diving area, show him the facilities, how we run the tours, take him out on a boat to show him the diving spots from the surface."

"Yeah if I take him over the wreck he’ll be able to see it." Jake offered.

Rachel nodded before continuing. "Then a tour of the rest of the facility, show him what we’ve done with the place. He can speak to a few guests. I don't know, see the guest book and the reviews. And then lunch."

"Great, sounds good. Where do you want me?" Ari asked.

"With Madibo. At all times. You’re the owner. You did the negotiations with him." she explained and Ari nodded.

"Ok. Stuck to Madibo it is.”

"Am I doing anything?" Max asked.

"Like what? Showing him how you twist and bend in your pyjama pants." Jake replied, throwing him a piece of toast from his plate.

"Says the tanning scarecrow." Max glared at him as he dodge the flying food.

"Don't play with the food.” Ari instructed before he looked at Max “And actually you can keep an eye on Simon."

 "Are you sure you trust me with your itty bitty baby puppy?" Max looked at Ari questioning his suggestion. "Just two days ago you wanted to kill me for, and I quote, pup-napping your precious pooch."

"Better than letting him fuck Madibo’s leg." Jake scoffed.

"Exactly… that or biting him." Ari sided with Jake.

"He wouldn’t hump him. It's been a week since he saw that. Dogs have short term memories." Max offered casually.

"Ok, now shut the fuck up." Ari raised his voice.

"No, they don’t! How do they remember to sit and lay down if they only have a short term memory?" Jake inquired.

"Same as you remember to get dressed in the morning but can’t remember what you ate yesterday." Max explained and shrugged.

"Will you all shut up and help me clear the table?" Rachel said, standing up to remark with her actions she wanted the nonsense to be over.

 "Not sure I remember how." Jake snorted, amused at his own wit, which earned him a slap round the back of the head from Rachel.

**** The line for passport control was taking for ever and Hannah was losing patience. She had always hated this part of travelling plus her feeling of impatience was compounded by knowing that Ari was literally the other side of the door she could see. Finally she was called forward and after smiling at the Immigration officer who stamped her passport she walked through with her bag in her hand and out of the doors into the warm Sudan air. She glanced around for Ari, ready to leap into his arms, but she couldn’t see him. Instead she spotted Sammy waiting by the jeep. He smiled and came towards her and she grinned back, giving him a hug.

“Try not to look too disappointed I’m not Ari.” Her brother chuckled and Hannah snorted.

“Oh shut up, I’m just as happy to see you”

“Yeah right!” Sammy pulled back and picked up her bag as Hannah gave a roll of her eyes and followed him back to the jeep.

“How’s everyone been?” she asked.

“Good.” Sammy nodded “Ari nearly killed Max and Jake on Monday.” He tossed her bag into the back.

“Why?” Hannah asked as she climbed into the car.

“They took Simon out on the boat. Ari thought he’d lost him…kinda went a little bit mad, not as mad as he did when he got told he couldn’t pick you up.”

“Yeah why is that?”

“We got a tourist board visit.” Sammy answered as he set off “He’s with Colonel Madibo now, so when you arrive, you’re Rosa…”

“Noted.” Hannah nodded “So other than that has everyone been ok?”

“Yeah, other than Ari, he’s been a pain in the ass. Clinging to that dog like it’s his fucking kid…”

Hannah grinned and looked out of the window as they eased onto the main freeway out of the city. But, after a few minutes or so her grin slipped.  Sarah’s words had been stuck in her mind all day and night, and the worst bit about their conversation yesterday was that Hannah had wanted to tell Sarah she was wrong. She’d wanted to defend Ari but had been unable to because Sarah was right. He had put them second. And if Sarah’s comments about how Ari had refused to go to her wedding because he had still loved her were true, then that made her feel even worse about the whole situation, that she could somehow be responsible for Ari being the reckless asshole he was with regards to his marriage.

Hannah needed reassurance more than anything, reassurance that wasn’t the case and also an affirmation that once all this was over, he wasn’t just going to swan off into the sunset and leave her behind again. And whilst she could understand that he might not quit this life, and Hannah was ok with that, she knew that it could work because she’d seen her mother and father do so, what worried her was that her dad had manage to strike a balance . She wasn’t sure that Ari would be able to.

The only thing she did know was that if she had to watch Ari walk away again, it would kill her.

**** Ari, Rachel, Madibo and the two men he’d brought with him were just finishing lunch when Ari heard the sound of the jeep approaching. He tried to bite back his smile and caught Rachel’s eye. The look on her face told him his was failing, miserably.  

“Do we have company Mr Thomas?” Colonel Madibo frowned and looked at him, clearly having picked up the sound of the engine which was now louder as the jeep had pulled up outside. Ari hesitated and then thought, what the hell. He and Hannah weren’t a secret, plus the team had already stated at length how much it actually added to their cover. He took a deep breath and looked at the man, smiling “It’s My girlfriend, Rosa-“ Ari didn’t miss the smile that flickered across Rachel’s face when he uttered the words “-she’s been home to Spain for a week to see her mother. One of the other guys went to pick her up before.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you were running this place as a partnership?” Madibo looked at him and Ari took a breath

“We weren’t…it’s…” he paused, rubbing his neck “…well, it’s a long story but we go way back and…”

“Say no more Mr Thomas, I get it.” Madibo grinned “The magic of the Red Sea” The man turned his head to look out of the large open lattice doors across the beach before he turned back to Ari “There is something very romantic about being by the ocean.”

“There certainly is.” Ari agreed with a smile. At that point he heard Hannah’s voice drifting down the hallway into the dining room as she jabbered away to her brother, her Spanish accent impeccable thanks to Sammy clearly having warned her about their visitors. Ari turned to look as she walked into the room dressed casually in jeans and a light blue button down sleeveless blouse. Her eyes met his and she beamed at him, a flash of what looked like relief crossed her face and he grinned, standing up. He crossed towards her and gave her a hug.

“Hi.” Hannah said gently into his ear.

“Hi yourself.” He replied, pulling back and giving her a quick kiss “Was your flight ok?”

Hannah nodded “No brat kicking my chair so…”

Ari laughed and then looked at Sammy who raised his eyebrows in the direction of the table. Slipping back in to professional, Guy Thomas mode he nodded and smiled.

“Come on guys, let me introduce you to our guests.” He took Hannah’s hand and led her to the table. “Colonel Madibo this is Rosa Garcia, she’s in charge of guest relations and this is Liam Anderson…” Ari gestured to Sammy “Our entertainment manager who also doubles up as our site doctor.”

“Pleasure to meet you both.” Madibo rose from his chair. He shook Sammy’s and then took Hannah’s clamping his other hand over the top of hers. He looked at her, smiling, before he turned to Ari “You are a lucky man Mr Thomas.”

Ari raised his eyebrows and smiled, looking at Hannah who flushed as Madibo let go of her hand. “I sure am.” He then turned to Hannah and frowned a little at the look on her face. She was smiling, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes, almost like she was nervous. Maybe she was, after all, Madibo and his guard were quite imposing when all was said and done.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but I’ve had a long flight and need to freshen up.” She spoke, a little shyly “Would you please excuse me?”

“Of course, of course Miss Garcia.” Madibo bowed a little “It was a pleasure to meet you.” “You too Colonel.” She smiled, and turned to give Rachel a quick hug before she reached for her bag.

“I’ll do that.” Ari offered “I’ll fetch it in a little while.”

“Ok, thanks” she nodded, before she turned to leave, but paused, spinning back to look at Ari “Where’s Simon.” “With Max and Jake.” Ari said.

She nodded and gave them all another stiff sile before she scurried away.

Now Ari was sure something was bothering her. He looked at Sammy for some kind of clue but he was clearly as puzzled as he was as he shrugged slightly. He then turned to Rachel who met him with a blank look of her own. But, before he could dwell on it too much, Madibo spoke again causing Ari to turn back to him.

“We should be going anyway now, but I’m pleased with what you’ve done with the place.” The Colonel looked around, smiling “My report back to the President will be very favourable.”

“All free of charge, I hope.” Ari quipped and Madibo laughed, pointing at him

“You’re a funny man Mr Thomas!”

Rachel shot Ari a warning look and he simply shrugged, giving her a cheeky grin. They followed Madibo and his 2 guards out to the truck where they shook hands, thanked him for coming and bid him goodbye. No sooner had the truck gone Ari strode back inside, picked up Hannah’s bag and headed off towards her hut. She hadn’t made it back there, however, instead he found her halfway down the beach, crouching on the sand by Max with Simon going bananas as he jumped all over her, his tail wagging furiously, excited little whines coming from him as he licked her face.

“You happy to see momma buddy?” Ari chuckled as he stopped by her side.

“No, that’s his sad face.” Max deadpanned and Ari laughed, dropping a hand to Hannah’s head, gently caressing her hair.

“You ok Firefly?”

“Yeah, just tired.” Hannah stood up and looked at him.

“Wanna go rest?” he asked, his mind straying to the fact he was quite happy to go curl up next to her on the bed, maybe a little bit of something else, and from the snort that came from Max he wasn’t the only one thinking such things. “Piss off.” Ari turned to him, raising an eyebrow.

Max laughed “I’m gone…” Hannah and Ari both watched him leave and Ari wrapped his arms round Hannah’s back, pulling her into him, giving her a deep kiss. He pulled away, his nose bumping hers. “Wanna go lay down for a while?” Hannah shook her head. “No, if I do I won’t sleep later. Think I’m gonna get changed and hit the beach.” She said, glancing around.

“Oh, ok.” Ari tried not to sound too disappointed. He hadn’t seen her in over a week and she was pushing him away.  Now he knew for sure something was wrong, but he also knew if he pushed her too hard she’d clam up even more. Hannah looked at him, and he clearly hadn’t done as good a job of hiding his disappointment as he hoped as she took a deep breath, sliding her arms round his waist as she pressed into him, her cheek against his chest.

“I have something for you from Maya.” She said gently

Ari looked down frowning “You saw Maya?”

“No, I saw Sarah.”

“What?” his frown deepened.

“She left a note with Ethan, asking me to call her.” Hannah shrugged, stepping back.

“Why?”

“She wanted to talk to me.”

“What about?”

“Take a guess Ari” Hannah sighed and went to pick up her bag. Ari bat her hand away and picked it up, taking her hand in his spare as they walked silently towards her hut, Simon trotting in front of them. For the first time in weeks it was a little awkward between them, Ari unsure exactly what to say whereas Hannah was simply exhausted both physically and mentally. The relief she had felt upon seeing Ari had melted away and she was back to dwelling on what Sarah had said. Once they were inside her hut, Ari dropped Hannah’s bag on her bed. Without a word she reached into it and pulled out the envelope addressed to Daddy. Ari took it, glanced at the writing on the front, his breath catching a little before he looked at Hannah. “You know, you didn’t need to meet her.”

“Well I did, it wasn’t a big deal.”

“It clearly is.” Ari bit back, an air of frustration in his voice “I can tell somethings bothering you Hannah, so what did she want?”

“She was just curious I guess.” “Curious about what?” Ari’s temper was starting to fray and Hannah let out a growl of annoyance.

“About, us Ari, what do you think? She basically asked me outright if I loved you, then told me to ask you why you never came to my wedding and…” she paused as Ari groaned as he ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. “She said it was because you couldn’t bear to see me marry someone else.” Hannah looked at Ari, shaking her head. “Is that true?”

“Hannah, does it really matter?”

“It matters to me, yes!”

Ari sighed, looking down at the floor as he shook his head “Look, I loved Sarah, you know this…”

“For fucks sake, just tell me the truth Ari!”

“Yes, ok!” Ari snapped “The reason I didn’t come is because the thought of you with anyone else, well it made me sick. That what you wanted to hear?”

Hannah looked at him, blinking before she shrugged. “I don’t know to be honest with you.”

“Han…” “She made me feel like shit, Ari!” Hannah looked up at him, tears in her eyes “She basically said you’d been in love with me for the entire time you’d been married to her, that she was second best and…”

“For fucks sake…” Ari shook his head “She had no right to put that on you, no right at all.”

Hannah looked down at her feet, “I can’t blame her, Ari. I’d be the same in her position.”

Ari swallowed as he glanced at his feet, looking again at the letter in his hand before he raised his head to Hannah once more. “Did she say anything else?”

Hannah snorted “She wished me good luck, said I was gonna need it.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Ari bit back angrily and Hannah let out a scoff.

“She meant when all this is over, the mission and we go back home.” She glanced at Ari and he was surprised now to see the angry fire in her eyes. “She said that she had never managed to stop you leaving before, even when she was pregnant and was basically implying that once we’re home and out of this little bubble then it would all be different and you’d leave me behind…”

“Ok, no, stop…” Ari held his hand up, tossing the letter onto her bed. “Firefly, listen…” he gently took her face in his hands “That’s not gonna happen. I told you before, I’m not letting you go again.”

“I know you did, and I believe you I do.” She shook her head “And I know that it’s different for us because I’ve lived this life too and I get what being in Mossad means, you know, my mom and dad made it work, but I just…oh, I can’t explain Ari.

“Try, please.” Ari looked at her, his hands gripping her face a little more, his thumbs stroking large arcs over her cheeks.

“I’m not sure you know how to strike a balance Ari. Between this and-“ she blinked and looked down as Ari licked his lips as his hands dropped to her hips.

“Hannah, it’s irrelevant…” “What do you mean it’s irrelevant?” she frowned “I think it’s highly relevant all things considered!”

“Look…” Ari took a deep breath “I never told you this, hell, I never told anyone this because I still wasn’t totally sure until a few weeks ago  but I’ve kinda decided that this mission is gonna be my last one in the field.” Whatever Hannah had been expecting Ari to say, it wasn’t that. As the implications of his words crashed over her she could do nothing but gape at him as he shrugged and continued.

“I’m 37 this year sweetheart, I've been doing this for longer than I care to remember. It’s dangerous and, well I’ve missed so much of Maya growing up I don’t wanna miss anymore or god forbid leave her behind for good should something happen.” He sighed, “Sarah’s right. I was a shit husband and a shit dad, I owe it to Maya to a least be a little less shit going forward.”

“Ari, I…” Hannah took a deep breath and shook her head “I’m not asking you to quit…” “I know.” He assured her, “And with the greatest of respect, I’m not doing it for you, I’m doing it for Munch.”

The relief crashed over Hannah in a wave. She’d been scared, not simply that Sarah had been right, but that if he did quit it would be for her, putting her first, and she didn’t want that. His daughter should be top of his priority list and to hear that it had finally hit home to him, well, it brought her a reprieve from the nagging feeling of guilt and turmoil she’d been feeling since she’d left that coffee shop in Tel Aviv. She looked up at her man, the smile creeping across her face and he dropped his head to rest against hers.

“Is that all that was bothering you?” he asked softly and she nodded in response. “So, are we good?”

“Yeah, we’re good.”

“Thank fuck for that, because I really wanna kiss you Han.”

She grinned and blinked looking up at him. “Nothing stopping you.”

With a flick of his eyebrow, Ari pulled her closer and dropped his face to hers, pressing their lips together. He kissed her softly at first before his tongue slid across her bottom lip and she opened her mouth, letting out a soft sigh. Ari’s tongue lashed against the roof of her mouth as his hand slid upwards, tangling in her hair, the kiss deepening…

And then there was a knock at the door, punctuated by a responding bark from Simon.

“For fucks sake…” Ari groaned, as Hannah shrugged a little, moving to open it.

Rachel peered back at her, a little sheepishly “Sorry to intrude but, well, I wasn’t sure if you’d be joining us for dinner?”

“Dur.” Hannah nodded back as behind her, Ari sat on the edge of her bed, picking up the letter from Maya.

“Ok, I’ll let Aziz know. I’ll leave you to it.” Rachel smiled, and with that she was gone. Hannah turned round to see Ari opening the letter, pulling out the paper from the envelope.

“If you want to read that alone, I won’t be offended.” She began but Ari shook his head. Silently, Hannah sat next to him as he began to ready Maya’s untidy scrawl, his eyes misting over. It was nothing out of the ordinary, telling him about school, her friends, how Sarah had taken her to the zoo the previous weekend and she’d seen a man holding a snake, the typical ramblings he’d expect from a 7-almost 8-year old, but it was the first ever letter he’d had from her when on a mission and it choked him up, especially the bit when he said she hoped that Simon and Hannah were both ok too.

“She err…” Ari swallowed and looked at Hannah who gently reached out and brushed a tear from his cheek, a tear he hadn’t realise he’d shed “She says she hopes you and Simon are both ok.” Hannah smiled “Yeah, Sarah said she’d asked after me.”

“Han…” his voice broke and Hannah sighed, wrapping her arms around him as he buried his face into the crook of her shoulder. This was a side to Ari Levinson that very few people knew existed, a vulnerable, almost childish side. A side that just wanted to be comforted and loved, seeking out strength instead of giving it. Hannah knew that everyone took it for granted that he was the stalwart, forever stoic leader and forgot that underneath the cool agent façade there was a gentle, kind man. A flawed human, but a human all the same.  She gently rubbed at his back as he sniffed a little, pressing his face further into her neck. Hannah dropped a kiss to the top of his head and he pulled away, wiping at his eyes.

“You know…” she said softly, her head pressing to his “I really did miss the beach. Reckon Guy can sneak an afternoon off to spend with Rosa?” “Guy can take as much time to spend with Rosa as Rosa wants.” He smiled, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

***** After clearing it with Rachel that neither of them were needed, the pair of them spent a nice afternoon together. They took 3 mile walk round the cliff edge, Simon examining the usual nooks and crannies as they walked hand in hand behind him. The sun blazed hot on both their necks and even in the late afternoon it showed no sign of giving up as they made their way back to the resort. Choosing a secluded spot away from any guests, not far from their cave, they flopped down onto the sand. Hannah pulled off her sundress and lay back as Ari shed his T-shirt and sat next to her, watching her for a moment, simply drinking her in before he lay back next to her and they continued to talk and laugh.  An hour or so later, just as the sun was starting to dip to the horizon, both were sticky and sweaty from the heat, and when Hannah suggested they should shower up before dinner Ari quipped he had a better idea.

“What…” Hannah’s voice turned into a shriek as Ari scooped her up and began walking quickly to the sea. “Lobo, don’t you dare!”

“Dare what?” he asked, wading in a little so the water was lapping at his waist.

“You know what!” she clung round his neck, laughing a little.

“No, sorry, can’t hear you…” he shook his head, wading a little further towards the spot he knew the shallow sand underneath him dropped a little, making the water deeper and cooler. Hannah glared at him and struggled in his arms

“I fucking swear to God…” but she was cut off as Ari gently tossed her into the waves where she disappeared under. She broke surface a split second later, spluttering as she wiped her hair back out of her face and saw Ari laughing at her, his entire handsome face creased up as his head tipped back, right hand reaching for his left pec. "El cabron..." she hissed the Spanish word for asshole at him, just one of the many insults in her mama's native tongue that he recognised, and swept her arm in a huge arc over the surface of the ocean, sending a wave of sorts straight over Ari's head. Shaking his hair off his face with the manner of a dog, Ari chuckled and reached out for her, his fingers digging and teasing a little  on her ribs where he knew she was especially sensitive. She wriggled a little, her hands resting on his broad chest as she tried to push away. Ari wasn't letting go though but he took pity, laughing as her head tipped back a little, her hands sliding up towards his face. Her delicate fingers tangled in his beard and she looked at him as his hands settled on her hips, guiding her towards him a little more. Her legs wrapped around his waist as it was too deep for her to stand up, and Ari remained with his feet planted on the soft sandy floor of the ocean, large hands on her back, submerged to his shoulders. And for the first time in a week, Ari felt at peace. "I missed you Firefly." He said softly as her lips gently brushed his before she pulled back to study his face, her arms round his neck. "I missed you too Mi Lobo." She smiled, her blue eyes as deep as the ocean they were currently bobbing in sparkled with love and lust and Ari's mouth was drier than it had ever been in his life. He felt a twitch in his groin, his arousal spiking and he actively fought back the groan that was bubbling in his throat. Fuck, she could reduce him to an absolute wreck, bring him to his knees both physically and metaphorically with a simple look in his direction. He needed her. "I'm thirsty Firefly..." he could taste the salt on her skin as his lips brushed her ear and she gave a shudder at his words, and he knew why. They were the same words he'd spoken to her one night when they had been together the first time round and Ari had been away for a week. He'd likened not seeing her to being deprived of water, to which she'd called him a dramatic asshole and laughed. Which was precisely what she was doing now. “There’s water everywhere.” Her voice was loaded with humour yet carried an undercover of suggestiveness his hands slid down to cup her ass. “But not a drop to drink.” He arched an eyebrow as he flexed his hips up slightly, bumping his semi-erect cock up against her core. Hannah gave a little moan as she clung to Ari, before she arched into him even more, pressing her lips to his. Ari kissed her, furiously, tongues thrashing together as their teeth clashed, Ari's large hands sliding up Hannah's back, pinning her to him. One hand moved down her spine and slid round and over her hips, dipping into her bikini bottoms. Hannah gave a dirty croak in her throat as he started teasing her clit, his movements slow and deliberate and her hips soon began to work against his hand, desperately seeking out a way to satisfy the craving his touch was giving her. She was on fire. She wanted more, she needed more. "Ari..." she whispered, licking her lips as she reached down and wrapped a hand around his wrist. "Wanna feel you..." "Yeah?" His lips brushed hers and she nodded as his fingers plunged into her channel making her cry out. "Feel me like that?" She panted as his fingers continued, coaxing her to the brink. Hannah closed her eyes as she teetered on that edge, so close to falling but Ari stopped his movements abruptly. She gave a little choked moan at being so close but when she felt him shift underneath her, his hands leaving her body, she knew she wasn't going to feel dissatisfied for much longer. She felt the material of his swim shorts brush against her leg as he moved them down and she pressed her lips to his, kissing him again. His hand gently moved her swimwear bottoms to one side as she dropped one hand from his shoulder into the water, taking his cock in her palm causing him to hiss as she lined him up. With a slow, power full thrust upwards he filled her and Hannah rolled her head back in pleasure, her mouth open in a silent moan as she welcomed the familiar stretch. “God, Ari..." she gasped, her bikini clad breasts jostling with the staccato breath as she rose slightly out of the water. Her nails were biting his skin as her hands tightened on his shoulders. Her back was arched, her beautiful body open to him, and when Ari bottomed out he laid his forehead on her chest and breathed in. "My good girl, takes me so well..." he praised as he kissed her skin trailing a path up her sternum and throat until he met her lips, the salt from her skin was tangy on his taste buds. He began to trust slowly, deeply, rolling his hips as Hannah worked herself on him, desperately. “More.” she begged and Ari all but growled at her plea. "I need more, Lobo..." Ari rutted upwards furiously, over and over and Hannah's back arched in pleasure. He leaned forward, nipping at her neck, then soothing the sting of his bites with his tongue as he slid his hand into her hair at the base of her skull and pressed his lips to hers, keeping her head anchored in place. The kiss because sloppy and she panted into his mouth, lips parted. "Ari...I'm gonna..."  her words died off as Ari kissed her again swallowing the involuntary shaky whimper she made as she came, clenching around him. He thrust through her orgasm, picking up the pace as he rushed towards his own end and with a deep thrust he stilled as the pleasure pulsed through him, his cock twitching as he emptied himself inside her. With a few final and shallow thrusts he stilled, his forehead resting against hers as he breathed deeply, eyes closed, waiting for the world to right itself. 

“You ok?” Ari asked, his breathing deep and Hannah gave a soft hum of response as his nose brushed against hers, as she opened her eyes to look at him, her entire face lit up with that blissful happiness he’d come to know and love even more this time round.

It was pretty dark now, and aware that they were in the middle of the ocean, Ari pulled back and placed a kiss to Hannah’s head.

“Come on Firefly, it’s been a long day. Let’s get some dinner and then we can go to bed.” He said softly and she gave a little sigh as he shifted, pulling out of her, readjusting his shorts all the while keeping her supported. She kept her legs round his waist as he walked them to the shallower water and then when he attempted to stand up she refused to let go, giving a giggle as he sighed, shaking his head. “Seriously?”

“You said yourself, it’s been a long day.” She grinned “I’m tired.” “You’re actually gonna make me carry you up the beach?”

“Yup.” She nodded.

“Fucking brat.” He snorted and she laughed, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“If you’re a good boy and do as I ask, then maybe after dinner I’ll show you how grateful I am.”

“Well, when you put it like that…” Ari grinned and stood up quickly hooking his arms under her legs as he swooped her up out of the water, bridal style. Her laughs carried across the slight breeze as he walked them down the still warm, sugar white sand towards her hut.

#leave no one behind #ari levinson x ofc #ari levinson #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson smut #red sea diving resort #red sea diving resort fan fic

[10-porgs-in-a-trenchcoat]

Foxiyo Week: Fearless

@foxiyoweek

[This entry takes place in a happily-ever-after AU, approx. five years after Palpatine is exposed and removed from power]

--

When he was a soldier, there was very little in his day-to-day duties that scared Fox. Fear of blaster fire, explosions, blood, violence, injury, and death had been conditioned out of his psyche during his training. As a result, he had considered himself fairly unflappable. But then he fell in love, and with that love came fear of heartbreak and fear of loss. And when he and Riyo learned they were expecting a baby, another fear came to him: that he would not be a good father. Then the day came when he held his newborn daughter for the first time, and his love for her greatly outweighed his fears.

At four years old, little Mira Chuchi was almost a perfect mix of her parents. She had her mother’s blue skin and crescent-shaped markings on her cheeks, and her father’s deep brown eyes and curly black hair. At first Fox worried that she would age quickly like he did, but by both human and Pantoran metrics she was aging at the same rate as any other natural-born child from either species. That brought him relief, since it meant she could have the normal happy childhood he never got.

“Tell me a bedtime story, Papa?” Mira asked once she was settled into bed, snuggled up under the covers. Fox sat perched on the edge of the bed next to her and she looked up at him with big bright eyes. She clutched a stuffed tooka plushie in her arms.

“I would love to,” Fox responded. He wracked his brain, trying to think of a story to tell. His mind settled on one event from his life, from before Mira was born, and he quickly thought of a way to translate it into something child-friendly.

“Once there was a soldier, one of the bravest soldiers in the entire Republic. He always did the right thing and helped people and stopped every bad guy he crossed. One day a giant monster came to Coruscant and terrorized the city. Rawwrrr!” He let out a roar and raised his hands into claws before diving in to lightly tickle at Mira. She giggled in response to being tickled.

“The monster was big and scary, and it tried to eat the people in the city. It tried to eat a little girl, but the brave soldier swooped in and saved her just in time! Carried her away and gave her back to her mom. And he saved many more people from being eaten too!”

“Did the soldier beat the monster?” Mira asked innocently.

Maybe it was best to lie a little bit, he thought, for entertainment’s sake. She didn’t need to know that in reality he had been hit in the face by the Zillo Beast’s claws.

“Yes, he did. All by himself. He shot a cable and tied it around the monster’s legs, and it fell onto the ground!” He slapped his hand onto the bed for dramatic effect. “And then … then he stunned the monster and loaded it onto a starship and flew it to a far away planet where it could live with others of its kind. Then the soldier returned to Coruscant and was rewarded for being the bravest and most fearless soldier in the entire galaxy.”

Mira narrowed her eyes in a skeptical scrutiny. “That’s not your best bedtime story, Papa.”

Fox stifled a laugh. She was just like her mother.

A laugh came from the doorway of the bedroom, and Fox turned to see Riyo standing there. She leaned against the doorway, dressed in her burgundy-and-gold skirt and jacket that she often wore to the Senate. She must have just gotten home from work, Fox thought.

“Momma!” Mira squeaked excitedly. She sat up and looked up at her mother with a toothy grin.

“Hello, my baby,” cooed Riyo as she walked over to the bed and knelt beside her daughter.

“Papa told me a bedtime story about the bravest soldier and a monster!”

“I heard,” said Riyo as she smoothed a hand over the top of Mira’s hair.

“Apparently it wasn’t my best work,” shrugged Fox.

Riyo chuckled. “Well since Mira’s going to sleep you’ll have plenty of time to think of a better one.” She turned her attention back to Mira. “If I’m home when you go to bed tomorrow I’ll tell you a bedtime story, how’s that?”

“Okay Momma,” said Mira. She lay back down, snuggled into her pillow, and Riyo drew the covers back over her to tuck her back in.

Riyo then leaned in to kiss Mira on the forehead. “Sleep tight, my baby. I love you.”

Fox then gave Mira little kisses on her cheek and forehead. “Love you, starlight. Good night.”

“Good night. Love you Momma, love you Papa.”

Fox then followed Riyo out of Mira’s room, turning off the lights and closing the door behind him. The two went to the living room; as Riyo plopped herself down on the couch and leaned back, Fox went into the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine and two glasses. On his way back into the living room, he caught his reflection in a window by the dining table. He went back and forth on how he felt about the streaks of gray hair around his temples; it was a sign he was getting older, which shouldn’t have surprised him, yet he counted himself lucky that he was going gray rather than bald.

“You’re the bravest, most fearless soldier in the entire galaxy now?” Riyo asked with a smirk as Fox sat down next to her. She leaned over to plant a kiss on his cheek.  

“Well, every kid wants to think their dad’s a hero,” answered Fox as he poured out the wine. “Besides, you should hear the stories Rex tells his kids!” He handed a glass to Riyo.

“How is Rex these days?”

“He’s doing great. He, his husband, and their kids will actually be on Coruscant next week, and I’m looking forward to Mira finally getting to meet her cousins.”

“That will be so wonderful, we haven’t seen them since their wedding.”

“I know,” said Fox wistfully, “and if we can also convince Bly and Secura to come around with their little one, it will really be a party.”

A brief beat of silence passed as they both took drinks.

“How was the Senate today? You’re home late.” Fox asked.

Riyo let out a deep, long sigh, then leaned her head on Fox’s shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her and drew her in closer to him.

“It’s like pulling teeth. There are still so many warmongers and Palpatine loyalists. Padme and I are doing everything we can to get them to come across and support Chancellor Organa’s efforts to rebuild worlds devastated by the war, but we’re getting nowhere.”  

“Maybe I resigned too soon,” said Fox, “if I were still with the army I could inspire them to cooperate. Or I’ll call Wolffe and ask him to pay them a visit.”

“Tempting, but don’t worry about it. Diplomacy will win.”

“I know it will, you and Amidala are the best of the best.” Fox pressed his lips to Riyo’s forehead.

“I just wish things would work out, I feel like I barely get to see Mira anymore. I know Padme’s missing her babies too.”

“This won’t last forever, things will be normal again one day,” said Fox, trying to sound reassuring. “But we can figure out ways for you and Mira to spend more time together until then. She knows the work you do is important, but she misses you too.”

Riyo craned her head upward to brush her lips against Fox’s jaw. “You’re such a wonderful father. Even better husband.” She snuggled back into him and wrapped an arm around his torso.

Fox smirked and rubbed his hand up and down Riyo’s arm. “Careful, keep talking like that and I’ll get to work on making Mira a big sister,” he said mischievously.

Riyo sat up and looked him dead in the eye. “I was actually thinking about asking you if you wanted to try for another child soon. We’d have to talk more about it in depth, I just want to know if we’re on the same page first.”

“Definitely.” He grinned from ear to ear. The thought of having another baby made his heart swell with joy.

The two leaned towards each other, meeting with a kiss in the middle. They then remained in place, their foreheads resting against one another.

“I love you so much,” Riyo murmured. “I’m so glad I have you.”

“I’m luckier to have you. I love you from now until the end of time.”

Riyo smiled and reached up to cradle his face in her hand. She kissed him again.

--

Later that night as he drifted off to sleep, Fox thought about how the past five years had been beyond anything he ever anticipated. The war ended after Palpatine was discovered to be playing both sides for his own gain, and he was ousted from power and held prisoner by the Jedi. (The Jedi kept him locked up somewhere hidden and were annoyingly secretive about their reasons for it, and they managed to stonewall the Senate at every turn, but that was a headache for another day)

The Republic and the Separatists had a peace treaty and were cordially frosty towards one another in their joint efforts to rebuild worlds hardest hit by the war. Most importantly for him, the Senate voted to grant clones full legal personhood. He resigned his commission without a second thought and asked Riyo to marry him. Miracle upon miracles, she said yes.

He thought back to his days as a cadet on Kamino, how his younger self could never imagine a future where he was husband to a brilliant Senator and father to a wonderful little girl. None of his brothers likely anticipated a future where they could choose their own paths, but the ones who survived the war could. Rex had his husband, kids, and a farm on Alderaan; Bly had Secura and their child and a quiet life on Ryloth; Cody and Wolffe were still in the army but they had fulfillment and a newfound sense of purpose; and his brothers in the Coruscant Guard either transferred to private security work or went to trade schools and universities. He was happy for all of them and prouder than he could put into words. It was better than the best that he once hoped for them. It was what they all deserved.

As for Fox … he had everything he ever wanted since the day he realized he was in love with Riyo. He couldn’t ask for anything else.

#foxiyoweek2020 #foxiyo #riyo chuchi #commander fox #clone wars #star wars

[babyboiboyega]

1.01: “Pilot” Pt. 2 (SPN rewrite)

Supernatural (Rewrite)

Pairing: none...yet

Episode: “Pilot”

Summary: two brothers witness their mother’s paranormal death and are trained to fight by their father, who aims to hunt down the thing that killed his wife. While on the hunt to find their missing father, they run into an old friend.

Rated TV-14 for horror; violence; gore; some disturbing content; sexuality; alcohol; TW: mentions of suicide

Word Count: 12.3k (ya girl went off)

Babyboiboyega’s SPN Rewrite Masterlist

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RECAP:

As she watched, Dean nodded in defeat, but not before raising his hand and flipping Ersa off. She pretended to not see it and stood up carefully. The sound of Sam’s laughter rang through the air once again and even lightened the atmosphere a little. She was glad for this; deep down, she knew that this would be one hell of a case. (End of Recap)

Ersa did a mental once-over as soon as she and Sam managed to right themselves on the bridge. No life-threatening injuries, no cuts or scratches, but she’d have one huge bruise on her side tomorrow morning. She subconsciously rubbed at it while they approached Dean who slammed the hood of the car down.

“Car all right?”

The mud that caked Dean’s entire body was more apparent under the single bridge light, and it made her cringe inwardly. 

“Yeah, whatever she did to it, it seems all right now;” he turned away from the car, his eyes scanning the night around them and his voice echoing as he raised it. “That Constance chick- what a bitch!”

Without thinking, Ersa’s hand shot out, slapping Dean’s arm with an unpleasant sound, due to the mud that still slid off of his clothes. She immediately wiped her hand on her jeans, shaking her head at him.

“Great idea, calling the vengeful spirit a ‘bitch’. That’s a good idea, Dean. Maybe next time, she’ll decide to drive the car over the bridge; then you and the car will be matching.”

She could just make out his eyes rolling at her before Sam stepped in.

“Well, she doesn’t want us digging around, that’s for sure.”

The only reply he received was from Dean, who let out a heavy sigh and sat on the hood of the car. Sam glanced at his brother before joining him on the hood, then, he looked between Dean and Ersa with a questioning look.

“So where’s the trail go from here, genius?”

She knew that what Sam was referring to had more to do with their dad than what they had just witnessed, so she busied herself by pacing a small path in front of the brothers. Her thumbs were jammed into her back pockets and she simply listened...though there was really nothing to listen to. 

Dean let another sigh and threw his hands up in exasperation, letting them smack against his legs as they came down. 

There was a moment of silence where Ersa found herself wondering how their current case related to their dad’s disappearance. She doubted they would share anything personal with her, so using her deduction skills would have to do. It was just hard to do that when there was barely any information for her to deduct from. She briefly had the thought that maybe...just maybe...they were as clueless as her. Maybe they didn’t know where to start, so they simply took the first thing that related to their father in any way and ran with it...only now, it wasn’t getting any of them anywhere.

The sound of Sam’s sniffing brought her out of her reverie and she paused her pacing. She looked at him, ready to hear his thoughts on the next part of the plan. Instead, he simply looked at Dean, his face scrunching into a mildly disgusted expression.

“You smell like a toilet.”

*****

The first makings of light had begun to show across the sky when they finally decided to leave the bridge. Their actions of trekking down to the embankment to search for more signs of Constance had resulted in nothing but an annoying amount of mud on the soles of their shoes. It didn’t take much for them to hop back into the Impala and get going. 

The journey back to town was...quiet, for the most part. If Sam wasn’t pointing out how badly Dean smelled or if Dean wasn’t complaining about mud being in places where the sun doesn’t shine, it was quiet. She doubted that their minds were quiet, though; it was something about the air surrounding them that made it known that they were all in their own heads at the moment.

It remained quiet the entire ride, and it remained quiet even as Dean pulled into the parking lot of the town’s motel. He reached forward, taking the keys out of the ignition.

“You two are more than welcome to come in,” Ersa’s eyes pointedly looked at Dean, “maybe clean up some, while we figure out what to do next. Maybe I can talk to Jeffrey about giving you a discount on the room.” She sported a lopsided smirk as she leaned forward, resting her folded arms on the back of the front seat.

They both turned to look at her before glancing at each other. Sam nodded his head slightly.

“That sounds like a sound plan. We need to get some rest, Dean; we’re no help to anyone if we’re all sleep-deprived.” 

Both Ersa and Sam watched Dean and waited for his reply, for he sat motionless, looking out the windshield of the car. She could see his jaw working as he thought undoubtedly about how this decision would affect their progress on finding their dad. 

Finally, he nodded and opened his door. He quickly turned to Ersa, his eyes narrowing. 

“And how can you get us a discount? What kind of favor does this ‘Jeffrey’ guy owe you?” Near the end of his question, he raised his eyebrows suggestively. It made her roll her eyes as she opened the door and stepped out of the car in one fluid motion. She leaned down to talk through Sam’s open window.

“Just give me a minute to talk to him.” She straightened up and started to walk away but quickly turned, her eyes, again, finding Dean’s through the open window.

“And don’t be a weirdo when you come in!” She didn’t wait for his reply, but she thought she heard a snort come from him as she opened the door to the front office. 

Not even 10 minutes later, Ersa was pulling the front office’s door open and motioning for Sam and Dean to come in. Through the windshield, she could see Dean’s face morph into a mildly surprised expression as they stepped out of the car. They quickly crossed the lot, joining her at the door.

“So, did we get a discount?” Sam questioned, grinning. Dean eagerly awaited her answer, and she could practically feel his gaze burning into the side of her face. She nodded with a self-satisfied smile.

“Of course, you got a discount. I told you I would get you one, didn’t I?” Ersa motioned for the brothers to follow her as she stepped back into the office, walking up to the front desk. The old man behind the desk, Jeffrey, was already watching the brothers before they had even stepped foot through the door. His eyes didn’t leave their figures, even as they finally approached the desk. 

Ersa watched, slightly annoyed, as Dean took out a card and unceremoniously threw it on top of the motel’s booking registry. Dean made eye contact with Jeffrey.

“One room, please.”

Jeffrey picked up the card, shooting a glance full of suspicion Ersa’s way, before looking at the card in his hand. He regarded it for a moment before furrowing his eyebrows and looking at Dean and Sam.

“You guys having a reunion or something?”

Both of them looked at Jeffrey in silence for a second before Sam shook his head, a sheepish smile on his face.

“What do you mean?”

“That other guy, Bert Aframian. He came in and bought out a room for the whole month.”

Looks of realization crossed both Dean and Sam’s faces as his words registered within their minds. Dean turned to Sam, his lips pursed slightly, before turning back to face the counter. There was a thinly veiled tone of urgency as he stepped forward and questioned Jeffrey.

“What room was he staying in? He’s our...uncle and we’ve been looking for him for a while.” He added quickly upon Jeffrey’s suspicious gaze. He watched impatiently as Jeffrey looked over at Ersa and then back to him.

“He’s in room 702. You two can have room 717.”

He must have noticed the way Dean’s demeanor had changed, for he quickly put their room key on the counter before reaching below and completing the transaction. He had barely put the card back on the counter before Dean’s hand was taking a hold of both the key and the card, and turning to make his exit. Sam followed his brother after throwing a quick, but appreciative, smile Jeffrey’s way. 

Ersa caught Jeffrey’s gaze as she started to walk after them.

“Thanks, Jeff! I owe you one!” 

“Don’t mention it, kid! I think we’re even!” She smiled at his words and pushed through the door, finding that Sam and Dean were already a ways down the walkway. She had to jog to catch up with their fast-paced steps, but they had already stopped in front of a door; the room their dad had bought. 

Dean nudged Sam who, without a word, glanced quickly around before kneeling in front of the lock and taking something from his pocket. Ersa leaned against the wall next to the door, her eyes quickly scanning the mostly empty parking lot around them. She only turned when the sound of the lock clicking filled the air.

She watched Sam as he gently pushed the door open, stepping inside. She followed, expecting Dean to be hot on her heels, only to turn and see his backside as he still surveyed the area. Her hand reached out, grabbing the collar of his jacket, and pulled him inside quickly. The door shut behind him with an ominous thud as they all took in the state of the room. 

The room was dark, but there was enough light filtering through the curtains to illuminate its contents. The contents were...unsettling, to say the least. All three of them stared with open mouths at the room, none of them knowing where to start.

There were various kinds of newspaper clippings, old photos, sticky notes, and maps that spanned across the entire room, top to bottom. The bed was unkempt, the sheets messily thrown about, with an opened suitcase laying on its side on top of the bed. 

Every desk and every chair in the room had a stack of papers, books, or both on top of it. 

Ersa had no idea how long they had all been standing there before Dean finally moved. His steps took him to the nearest desk with a lamp on it, where he switched it on. The light illuminated a burger in an opened wrapper that looked to be half-eaten.

Something white and powdery caught Ersa’s gaze right as she was about to move, only for her to realize that it was salt. There was a half-circle that encompassed the door made of salt; she stepped over it with a wary gaze. She walked to the nearest wall where there were pieces of paper with handwriting hanging up as Dean’s groan filled the room.

“I don’t think he’s been here for a couple of days at least.”

Sam crouched, his fingers picking up salt and letting it filter through. He looked at Dean.

“Salt, cat’s-eye shells…”

Ersa turned, looking between both of the brothers. Her eyebrows furrowed as she came to the easiest realization ever. Sam spoke the obvious.

“He was worried, trying to keep something from coming in.”

Her gaze turned back to the wall she was previously looking at only to see Dean looking at the same wall. His steps followed along the wall before he stopped. Ersa’s steps stopped right beside him.

“You see what I see?” 

Dean’s head nodded as he continued to read the notes on the wall. Sam’s faint footsteps could be heard as he joined them.

“What do you got here?”

“Centennial highway victims.” Dean sounded surprised while also sounding as if he expected this. He probably had; they were talking about their father.

“I don’t get it.”

William Durrell. Scott Nifong. James Parks. 

As she looked at the pictures and newspaper clippings that showed the victims, she couldn’t help tilting her head in minute confusion. The only thing they had in common was the fact that they were all men and all of them were under a headline that read “missing”. 

“I mean, different men, different jobs, age, ethnicities. There’s always a connection, right?” 

At Ersa’s wordless nod, he continued on with another question.

“What do these guys have in common?” Without hesitation, Ersa spoke up, offering the only “connections” they had. 

“They all have only two things in common. They’re all men...and they’re all missing. Are we missing something?” 

She hadn’t noticed when Sam had walked away, but as she heard another light be clicked on across the room, she finally turned to see him staring intently at a series of photos hanging on the wall. She waited for him to say something, but only heard a light scoff at first. His head shook in disbelief.

“Dad figured it out.”

At his words, Dean’s head quickly whipped around, his eyebrows furrowing in question. 

“What do you mean?”

Sam motioned to the photos, his eyes now meeting Dean’s from across the room. There was a look on his face that Ersa couldn’t decipher; it was between disbelief and mild annoyance. Hell, maybe it was both. 

“He found the same article we did. Constance Welch. She’s a woman in white.”

Dean turned to the wall with the missing men on it. Ersa could almost hear a smile in his voice as he spoke.

“You sly dogs.” He looked over his shoulder at both of them, raising his eyebrows.

“All right, so if we’re dealing with a woman in white, dad would have found the corpse and destroyed it.”  

Ersa nodded in agreement, as it was another lesson from the Hunters101 handbook: if you have an angry spirit, you get rid of it by salting and burning the spirit’s bones. 95% of the time it worked, but there were a few exceptions. Like this one, for instance. In these types of cases-

“She might have another weakness.”

Dean answered quickly in his father’s defense as he walked to where Sam stood. His eyes quickly scanned the articles and photos in front of them.

“No, dad would want to make sure. He’d dig her up. Does it say where she’s buried?”

Ersa shook her head at Dean’s words, catching his attention. An expression crossed his face, but she continued on with what she was planning to say.

“We all know that sometimes that doesn’t work, Dean. Some spirits are bound here by their bones, some aren’t. If your dad burned her bones and she’s still up and kicking…” she let him fill in the rest on his own as her head tilted. He looked as if he agreed with her, but as if he didn’t want to agree with her. He looked to Sam to answer his question from earlier. Sam quickly looked back to the clippings.

“No, not that I can tell. If I were dad, though, I’d go ask her husband.”

“If he’s still alive,” Ersa added quietly, but she knew that both of them had heard her. She took Sam’s space as he walked away, her eyes landing on the picture of a grieving Joseph Welch. They gradually traveled until they stopped on the photo of “the white lady”. She had been a hunter for the majority of her life, but even now, certain things gave her chills. The black and white photo was grainy, but one could clearly make out the woman’s white dress and her haunted expression. Her eyes seemed completely black, although it was probably because of the grain.

“Alright, why don’t you see if you can find an address? I’m gonna get cleaned up.”

A sigh left Ersa’s mouth and she turned around to find Dean not too far from her shoulder. As she turned, he quickly took a step back, his eyes meeting hers. There was a slight grimace on her face. 

“Finally. I’m starting to get used to the smell of a sewer mixed with lake water.” 

He sent a coy smile her way, his eyes crinkling as he did so, before turning in the direction of the door. He couldn’t help glancing around him at the room once more as he left, though his movements stopped as Sam’s voice reached his ears.

“Hey, Dean, what I said earlier about Mom and Dad...I’m sorry.” There was a sincere apologetic expression on Sam’s face as he raised his arms, letting them fall to his sides after a second. He shook his head as if he was ashamed of himself, even in the slightest, but stopped as Dean held up a hand.

“No chick-flick moments.” There wasn’t an ounce of...anger, or even grudge in Dean’s voice as he replied. Instead, his eyes had softened while he looked at his brother.  

Ersa simply watched the scene, feeling like an outsider looking inside. But she had no problem with it; she had realized pretty early on that there were going to be things she couldn’t, and wouldn’t, comment on when it came to the brothers. 

Sam huffed out a laugh and shook his head.

“All right, jerk.”

Dean replied without missing a beat.

“Bitch.” 

He turned and finally made his exit, while Sam and Ersa stayed in their spots. Sam chuckled softly and looked at Ersa, who in turn gave him a small smile. He stepped forward slowly, almost hesitantly.

“Ersa, look...you didn’t have to help us with finding our dad- or even this case- but you are helping us, so I just wanted to say thank you.” He let out a big breath as he finished, the corners of his mouth lifting. Ersa shook her head.

“Don’t mention it, Sam, seriously. I would’ve tried to help even if you didn’t want me to.” At this, both of them let out soft laughs before she continued. 

“Catching up with...old friends, while hunting a spirit? What else would I be doing?” He nodded in understanding and opened his mouth to reply...only to pause when his eyes landed on something behind her. She turned, hearing Sam as he moved past her to whatever had caught his eye.

His hand hesitantly reached out and seized a picture that had been tucked in the side of the vanity mirror. She took a step forward and peeked around his shoulder, her eyes landing on the picture he held. 

There were three people in the picture, and two of them were children. She instantly recognized all three of them, for John looked the exact same as he did the last time she had seen him, and...well...common sense told her that the two children had to be Sam and Dean. She stepped back, letting Sam be as he stared, unmoving, at the picture in his hands. Instead, she stepped over to where the “woman in white” photo was, her eyes trailing down to a stack of papers labeled the same thing. Her hand grabbed the papers and brought them closer to her face as she read through John Winchester’s notes, and she stayed in that position for an unknown amount of time.

At some point, Sam had walked over to the messy bed and sat on the edge of it. He was still staring at something in his hands, but she couldn’t see what it was. She could, however, make out the faint sound of a woman’s voice coming from the phone that was now pressed to his ear. Her eyebrows raised knowingly as she cast a glance his way, to which he replied to with a playful roll of the eyes. Her attention went from Sam to Dean as he finally emerged from the bathroom. 

The first thing she noticed was that he was no longer covered in mud. His ruined clothes had been switched out for the clean clothes he had bought back in from the trunk of the Impala. Somehow, he had gotten all of the mud off of his brown leather jacket and he had dried it.  

“Hey, man. I’m starving. I’m gonna grab a little something to eat at that diner down the street. You want anything?”

Sam glanced at his brother but didn’t move from his position. He offered a quick “no” before turning his attention back to the voice coming from his phone. Dean stopped at the door, his jacket hanging off of one shoulder. His eyebrows raised.

“You sure? Aframians buying.” Sam simply shook his head in response, before Dean turned his gaze to Ersa. She answered him before he could ask her.

“I’ll come with, I’m starving too. How does one find the time to eat being around you two?” Her words were joking, and they even prompted a small smile to curve Dean’s lips. He opened the door, waiting for her to leave first.

“Ah, you’ll get used to it.” His words almost made Ersa pause because…” you’ll get used to it”? 

The words by themselves meant that she would be around long enough to get used to it. The fact that they had come from Dean meant...he saw her being around them long enough to get used to it. It certainly made her think.

She had expected to help them with the case, maybe even help with a few clues as to where their father was, and then be on her way. Not exactly because she wanted it to be that way, but because she couldn’t see Dean or Sam asking her to accompany them on the road. 

The search for their father and the search for the thing that had killed their mother was something incredibly personal; something they may have wanted to complete on their own.

Besides, even if they did ask her to go with them...she didn’t know what her answer would be. She had gotten so used to being on the road by herself, that she had no idea if she wanted to change that.

She had to admit, it felt good knowing that she had two people watching her 6 on a case...but would that be enough to convince her to change how she operated?

His words were still bouncing around her mind when she remembered that she couldn’t get food without her wallet which was in her motel room. Her footsteps stopped, causing Dean to pause and turn around. He said nothing and waited for her to explain the cause behind her stopping.

“I gotta get my wallet from my room. I’ll meet you at the car.” 

His mouth opened as if he were about to say something but thought better of it, and then he nodded and turned on his heel. She watched him walk away before turning and walking in the direction of her room.

Her thoughts were preoccupied the entire trek to her room and even while she rummaged around for her wallet. So preoccupied were her thoughts that she didn’t hear the bathroom door click open until she heard a footstep ring out. 

Without hesitation, she reached for her waistband and whipped out the pistol, pointing it at the person who had dared break into her room. The person quickly raised their hands and took a step back. It took less than a second for her to realize who it was.

“Sam?” She instantly lowered her gun, her eyebrows furrowing. A deep breath went through her body, and she let it out quickly.

Her mouth opened to begin chastising him for breaking into her motel room and almost getting himself shot, but the words never came out because the expression on his face made her stop in her tracks.

Instead of setting her gun down, his expression just made her grip it tighter. She stepped forward quickly, eyes scanning his face.

“What? What’s going on? Where’s Dean?”

Instead of answering immediately, he quickly breezed past Ersa to the window of her room where his hand grabbed the curtains and pulled them aside slightly. His head turned slightly back and forth as he looked for...whatever he was looking for. The entire process made Ersa even more nervous while simultaneously annoying her.

A heavy sigh left her mouth.

“You wanna tell me what the hell is going on?” Her voice was sharp, and it finally prompted Sam to turn around and meet her gaze. His jaw was set as he looked at her.

“We have to go. The cops know that we aren’t Marshals. They picked up Dean and he told me to  get you and…” he took a breath where his nostrils flared in barely concealed anger, “and to find dad.”

She cursed as she sprang into action, gathering the clothes that were strewn about her room and throwing them into her bag. She threw small items such as her toothbrush and toothpaste, haphazardly into her bag before hiking it onto her shoulder. It took her less than a minute to pack her bag and grab her notes on the case; then she was following Sam out of the door. 

Their steps were hurried, yet silent, as they streaked across the parking lot. They both kept their eyes out for any uniforms as they reached both the Impala and Ersa’s car. 

She unceremoniously threw her bag into the back of her car before running around the back and jumping into the driver's seat. The key was shoved into the ignition before she rolled down her window, looking at Sam through it. She couldn’t help glancing around the parking lot once more.

“What’s the plan?” 

“Just follow me. I have an idea of where to go next.” Those were the only words exchanged between them before Sam was peeling out of the parking lot, Ersa not too far behind him. They were the only words exchanged, but Ersa had wanted to ask more. Specifically, ask about the plan to get Dean away from the police. Sam had only mentioned finding their dad without any word of finding and helping Dean. She only gripped the wheel tighter and hoped that they would finally find John Winchester wherever the hell he was and that they could come up with a plan to get Dean.

*****

When she had followed Sam to a rundown part of the town, she had held her tongue in asking him where the hell they were, and how they were going to get Dean back. Luckily for him, he had finally explained his thought process to her while leading her to a house only he knew the location of. 

“So...you’re thinking Joseph Welch can lead us to your dad.”

A quick breath left his nose as he continued to walk across the muddy ground, his eyes scanning the property around them. His head shook slightly.

“It’s the only thing we have linking us to our dad. He worked the case, and in order to figure out the case, he had to have visited Joseph Welch...which we’re doing right now.” He spoke slowly, yet his words sped up as he neared the end of his sentence. His steps also sped up as he finally found the house that belonged to the man they were looking for. 

Sam’s knocks sounded dull on the rotting wood of the front door, and it didn’t take long for a man to come to the door. Ersa instantly recognized the look of apprehension on his face as he opened it just wide enough to fit his body through. Sam didn’t let him get a word out before he was speaking in a soft, yet urgent, voice.

“Hi, uh, are you Joseph Welch?” His question prompted a short nod and a quick “yeah” to come from the man’s, Joseph’s, mouth.

“Great, do you mind if my partner and I ask you a few questions? We’re reporters for a new newspaper around this area.”

“It’ll be quick, we assure you. We wouldn’t want to take too much time out of your day.”

Ersa quickly added reassurance at the end as Joseph’s look of apprehension only increased, but at her words, he sighed heavily before stepping fully out of the doorway. Once his door was closed, he motioned for both Sam and Ersa to follow him.

“Firstly,” Sam quickly walked until he was taking steps alongside Joseph, then handing him the photograph Ersa had seen earlier in the motel room to him, “do you recognize the man in the middle? At all?” 

Looking from her spot on the other side of Joseph, Ersa could see how Sam’s mouth twisted in impatience and anticipation as Joseph regarded the picture. Finally, the man nodded.

“Yeah, he was older, but that’s him. He came by three or four days ago, said he was a reporter.”

Their steps crunched along the gravel as they followed wherever Joseph led them, though they both kept an eye out. There were other run-down buildings surrounding them, though neither of them had seen another person. There was a spot in the middle of the grounds where a pile of...junk sat, untouched and rusting.

“That’s right. We’re working on a story together.”

Joseph looked between the two of them, the brim of his hat now shielding his face from the sun and from their eyes. 

“Well, I don’t know what the hell kind of story you’re working on...the questions he asked me-”

“About your late wife, Constance.” 

Joseph’s steps slowed down as if he were about to stop or as if Sam’s words almost made him pause, but he soon picked up once again. His features were covered, but not enough to hide the mildly annoyed twist of his mouth.

“He asked me where she was buried.” Both of them could tell Joseph’s true thoughts as the words left his mouth. He sounded tired, but as if even he knew that the question was a weird one. 

Sam nodded once before leaning in his direction a little, his hands fidgeting with the picture of his father, him, and Dean.

“And where is that again?” 

Despite her wanting to point out to Sam just how smooth his questioning was going, sarcasm fully intended, she listened closely for Joseph’s answer. She remembered how Dean had mentioned that their dad would have already salted and burned the bones, and she quickly hoped that maybe, just maybe, their dad hadn’t burned the bones and that it would be the quick and easy solution to the entire case. She tuned back in right as Joseph started answering Sam’s previous question.

“In a plot behind my old place over on Breckenridge.”

Sam’s eyebrows furrowed as he glanced at Ersa, who was already one step ahead.

“Mr. Welch, why did you move?”

This time, as his steps slowed, he did nothing to pick them back up. His face was now visible as he looked up at Sam, and both of them could see the underlying pain from a number of years appear on his face. He let out a shaky breath as he came to a full stop, Sam stopping right in front and turning around to face him.

“I’m not gonna live in the house where my children died.”

It was quiet for a few seconds, and Ersa had been ready to announce that their “interview” was over, but Sam asked yet another question.

“Mr. Welch, did you ever marry again?” Joseph’s answer was quick and strong.

“No way,” his head shook as he continued, “Constance- she was the love of my life, prettiest woman I ever known.”

The corners of Sam’s lips curved into a faint smile.

“So you had a happy marriage?” 

Ersa’s eyebrows furrowed as she tried to see the path Sam was taking with the questioning, but she didn’t have to try anymore after the last question.

Something changed after Sam’s last question. Instead of a barely noticeable smile/grimace being on the older man’s face, now his lips were pressed into a thin, straight line. He stared, unblinking, at Sam as his head nodded almost hesitantly. She could feel the air around them grow thick, and it was all because of Sam’s question. 

“Definitely.” In an almost ironic way, his answer sounded so sure, yet Joseph’s head shook instead of nodding in confirmation. His eyes still hadn’t left Sam’s face, even as Sam stepped back.

“Well, that should do it. Thanks for your time.”

Sam glanced at Ersa before motioning with his head in the direction of the cars. As they both walked away from Joseph, she could feel his stare following them. It was only when she heard the faint sound of his footsteps retreating did she move her hand from her waistband. 

“Call me paranoid, but I’m pretty sure he’s hiding something.” She kept her voice down and stepped closer to Sam. They looked at each other as Sam pursed his lips, his hands fishing in his pockets and pulling out the keys. 

She was going to ask what the next plan of action was, that is until he abruptly turned, his gaze landing on Joseph’s retreating figure.

“Mr. Welch, you ever hear of a woman in white?”

The older man turned quickly, his voice carrying across the grounds.

“A what?”

“A woman in white or sometimes a weeping woman. It’s a ghost story. Well,” a huffed laugh left Sam’s mouth as he started walking towards Joseph, “it's more of a phenomenon, really. They’re spirits.”

Ersa simply leaned against the hood of her car, arms crossed, and watched. It had taken her a while, but she had a sneaking suspicion of where Sam was going. One thing she knew for certain was that Joseph had been lying about their marriage being a “happy” one. That one realization made her question the entire case.

“They’ve been sighted for hundreds of years, dozens of places in Hawaii and Mexico, lately in Arizona, Indiana.” His steps stopped right in front of Joseph, yet his words continued to flow.

“All these are different women, you understand, but all share the same story.” That simple sentence from Sam made all the sense in the world to Ersa, and her separated theories and guesses suddenly clicked inside her mind.

“Boy, I don’t care much for nonsense.” Joseph’s words were clipped, and it was clear that Sam had hit a nerve, as he eventually turned on his heel and tried to walk away.

“You see, when they were alive, their husbands were unfaithful to them.” Even from her distance, she could see Joseph’s shoulder rising and falling heavily as Sam’s words continued to hit him. Sam, on the other hand, was relentless.

“Basically suffering from temporary insanity, they murdered their children. Then, once they realized what they had done, they took their own lives.” As Sam spoke, Joseph had turned around. His eyes were wide enough to the point where Ersa could see the whites of them from her position. His mouth hung open in anger, fear...maybe both.

“So not their spirits are cursed, walking back roads, waterways, and if they find an unfaithful man, they kill him, and that man is never seen again.”

Joseph’s bottom lip quivered as he spoke, his face twisting into one of horror.

“You think...you think that has something to do with Constance, you smartass?” He stepped closer to Sam, his voice increasing in agitation. 

Ersa’s eyes narrowed as she once again reached for her waistband, her hand closing around the hilt of her pistol. She doubted the older man could take Sam, but you could never be too careful. She watched his actions intently.

“I mean...maybe...maybe I made some mistakes, but no matter what I did, Constance never would have killed her own children.” As he spoke, the agitation gradually faded until only a tone of grief took over his words. His voice broke as he continued to speak.

“Now, you get the hell out of here, and you don’t come back.” 

He stared, unwavering, at Sam, taking deep and shaky breaths for a few moments before turning once again and beginning his short journey back to his home. Sam didn’t move until Joseph’s figure disappeared around the corner they had previously walked around, and only then did he turn and start walking back to the car.

Ersa’s eyes followed him as he approached the Impala where he paused, his hands coming to rest on the hood of the car. He had still yet to talk, so Ersa spoke instead.

“We know what connects the victims...now we just have to find out how to stop her. And-”

“And we have to get my brother back.” He interrupted her, his gaze meeting hers with a steely expression. She nodded in agreement, walking around to her driver’s side. A small smile curved onto her face.

“I think I have an idea.”

***

The sky had already been growing dark when they finally left Joseph Welch’s place, but now, she couldn’t see where the sky ended and where the road in front of her began. She could only see the rear of the Impala as it was lit by the headlights of her car. 

While driving, her mind wandered to whether or not her plan would at least help Dean in any way. It wasn���t much they could do; the police were probably looking for them too. So, they did the next best thing, and all it took was one faux panicked phone call.

The shrill sound of her phone rang out through her quiet car and her hand reached for it quickly. She didn’t bother glancing at it before hitting the accept button and bringing it to her ear. 

“Hey, Dean, Ersa can hear you too.” Sam’s voice left her phone’s speaker, sounding significantly less stressed than he had since the beginning of the day. She could only guess one reason for his change in demeanor. 

“Fake 911 phone call, Sammy? That’s pretty illegal.” Dean sounded slightly impressed as he quickly spoke. 

“You’re welcome. It was Ersa’s idea.” A smile could be heard in Sam’s voice, and she couldn’t help smiling at Dean’s pause. 

“Well...I’ll have to treat you to a beer, then. Listen, we got to talk.” Ersa hadn’t been able to get a word in before all teasing left Dean’s voice and was replaced by a more serious tone. She could feel her smile fade slightly.

“Tell me about it. So the husband was unfaithful. We are dealing with a woman in white. And she’s buried behind her old house, so that should have been dad’s next stop.”

It seemed that Sam hadn’t heard the urgency in his brother’s voice as he continued to speak quickly, letting him in on all of the connections they had made.

“Sammy, would you shut up for a second?”

“I can’t figure out why he hasn’t destroyed the corpse yet.” Dean’s voice raised, just to be heard over Sam’s excited rambling. When he finally found a moment of silence in Sam’s talking, he finally spoke.

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. He’s gone. Dad left Jericho.”

She barely had enough time to express her own surprise before Sam was speaking once again, his own voice expressing enough surprise for both of them. 

“What? How do you know?”

A small moment of silence passed and the sound of shuffling could be heard, presumably from Dean’s side, followed by his voice.

“I’ve got his journal.” This was the most amount of worry she had heard from Dean since she ran into them at the start of all of this, and she had a feeling that it wasn’t for nothing.

“He doesn’t go anywhere without that.” Sam’s voice sounded solemn as he replied. 

“Well, he did this time.” 

There was a bout of silence between all three of them before Sam broke it almost hesitantly.

“What’s it say?”

An agitated sigh left Dean’s mouth, though not directed at Sam before he replied.

“Same old ex-marine crap when he wants to let us know where he’s going.” She had a clue as to where, or rather who, the agitation was directed at. Ersa knew that this wasn’t the first time their dad had done something like this just by how they spoke about him. She spoke quickly when figured out the “crap” their dad had left them.

“Ex-marine? They’re probably coordinates.”

She knew without a doubt that they were coordinates; her own father had done the same in the past, so she personally knew how annoying all of the “ex-marine crap” could get. Sam heard her words and quickly asked another question relating to said coordinates. 

“Where to?” 

“I’m not sure yet.”

This time, Sam’s voice raised in clear annoyance. She had to pull her phone away from her ear, as his loud voice surprised her when he replied.

“Dean, what the hell is going on?”

Less than a second… that’s how long it took for both Sam and Ersa to be caught off guard, although both for different reasons. 

One second she was waiting for Dean’s response, and the next she was yanking her wheel to the side in order to not collide with the Impala which had stopped abruptly. 

She only had time to cover her face before she was being thrown forward, the seatbelt straining against her body, as her car instead collided with the side of a cliff. Her body rocked back harshly once the car came to a complete stop, and a groan instantly left her mouth. 

She tried to open her eyes, but every time she did, her vision continued to blur even more. Finally, she settled on keeping her eyes closed and fumbling blindly for the seat belt latch. SHe couldn't help letting out a huge breath once the clicking sound of the seat belt filled the air.

Her phone had been flung somewhere across her front console, but she could still hear Dean’s voice as he called both her and Sam’s names. She couldn’t seem to suck in enough air to call back to him. 

Her hunter’s instincts were screaming at her to get out of this compromising position so that she could, at least, have a fighting chance against whatever had just caused all of this to happen. It prompted her to crack open her eyes and to reach across the front seat’s armrest, aiming to grab the door handle and push the door open. Her entire body ached as she twisted her body to reach the door, but right as her fingers skimmed the handle, it was wrenched open quickly. 

Her heart thudded quickly as a light was shone in her face, completely preventing her from seeing whoever had just opened the door. The light made her already sensitive eyes squint, yet she didn’t stop moving. Instead of reaching for the now open door, her hand reached for her glove compartment, which she could easily get to. 

The cold steel of her backup had just skimmed her fingers when a familiar voice called out for her, making her pause in her movements.

“Ersa! Damn it, can you hear me? Come on, I’ll get you out!” 

Sam’s voice sounded winded as if he had just been running, but she knew that it was because of something only he had seen.

The light disappeared, leaving only black spots swimming around her vision before Sam carefully reached into the car and grabbed her arms. 

He started pulling and she had to bite her lip to keep from groaning out loud in pain. Instead of focusing on how she physically felt, she instead focused on helping Sam as much as she could. The sound of groaning metal-filled both of their ears as she used her feet to kick away from the driver’s side of the car. As soon as she was in a good enough position, Sam effortlessly pulled her out of the car, her body sliding across the glass-covered seats. 

Her feet hit the ground with an audible crunch as they landed on the discarded pieces of glass that now littered the road around them. Chest heaving up and down heavily, Ersa’s eyes found Sam’s.

“You okay? Did you hit anything?” Sam’s voice was quick, and in her disorientated state, she had to focus more intently to understand the words he said. She wordlessly nodded, her shaky hand raising to touch the small trickle of blood that had been making its way down her temple. 

Sam saw her nod, yet didn’t know which question she was referring to. He cursed silently as he remembered the entire reason this all had happened, and then he gently grabbed her elbow.

“Come on, we gotta get out of here.” He started to lead her back to the Impala, only to stop when he felt her resist just a little. He quickly turned, eyebrows furrowing as he looked at her.

Ersa’s face was scrunched up into an expression of pain, though Sam could easily make out her words. He supposed that was good, that her words weren’t slurred.

“My bags. I have to...get my shit.” Almost with a newfound strength, she pulled her arm out of his grip before turning, unsteadily, and quickly walking back to her car. 

She reached the trunk of her car in a matter of seconds, though it was a little harder to pry open the busted trunk. Trying for a few seconds, she quickly found that she was in no condition to open the trunk. 

Seeing what she had been trying to do, Sam quickly walked over, reaching his fingers through the gap of the trunk and pulling quickly. He only saw one bag in the trunk, so he quickly grabbed it and hoisted it on his shoulder. Meanwhile, Ersa had walked around the side and opened the back door, reaching in and seizing another bag.

She had barely pulled it out of the car when Sam was taking it from her, hauling it onto his other shoulder and grabbing her hand. This time, she willingly let him lead her to the Impala. 

Their steps were quick, yet careful, as they reached the Impala. Sam threw her bags into the backseat while Ersa quickly slid into the front seat, Sam following not far behind. 

No sooner than Sam’s door had closed did the interior of the car become freezing cold. They could see their breaths as they panted.

“Take me home.” 

A woman’s voice sounded from the back of the car, making both of them jump. A glance in the rearview mirror confirmed both of their suspicions.

Constance Welch’s cold, sinister eyes stared back at them through the mirror. Ersa could’ve sworn that the longer they sat there, the colder the car became. Neither one of them dared to move a muscle.

“Take..me..home.” Her voice filled the space again, this time sounding heavier. Her eyes shifted from looking in the mirror to staring at the back of Sam’s head. His chest heaved before he spoke, his voice slightly wavering. 

“No.”

Ersa internally braced herself for the blowback from Sam’s refusal, which came only a few seconds later.

The doors of the Impala locked without either Sam or Ersa touching anything. They both frantically pulled at the locks to no avail; they certainly weren’t going to unlock for them. While in the process of pulling at the locks, there was the unmistakable sound of the gear shifting, and then the tires were squealing against the road as the Impala took off.

The entire drive, both Ersa and Sam worked on trying to unlock or open the doors. They threw themselves against the door which wouldn’t budge; they used both of their hands to pull at the locks which didn’t move an inch. They both knew where Constance was taking them, yet they had absolutely no idea what would happen once they finally got there. One thing they did know was that Dean knew where they were headed and that he would either get there before them or after...whatever happened. 

As they continued looking for ways to escape, the car finally slowed down while approaching an old, dark, and decrepit house. They could see that the windows no longer held glass, but were instead covered up by planks of wood. The front yard’s fence had missing or broken planks, the white paint now brown and dirty from the years of exposure. 

The bright headlights of the Impala illuminated the house in front of them, however, as the car came to a stop and the lights cut off, the house blended in with the surrounding darkness. A quick glance in the rearview mirror showed that Constance hadn’t moved an inch.

“Don’t do this.” Sam’s voice was low, but Ersa could still hear the shakiness of it. 

The air around them was completely still, yet, they could see Constance’s figure flickering right where she sat. Instead of sounding...well...dead, with no emotion in her voice, Constance now spoke with a sense of unadulterated grief.

“I can never go home.”

“...You’re scared to go home.” Ersa’s voice was strong and confident, yet she quickly turned around once the words left her mouth. In the time it had taken both of them to turn around to look at her, she had disappeared...only to appear in the seat between them a split second later. 

A number of events happened simultaneously before either of them could react properly. 

The air was knocked out of Ersa as she was pushed against the passenger’s side door by an invisible force. It pinned her there, prohibiting any movement on her part. She could only watch as Constance climbed onto Sam’s lap, pushing him harshly against the leather seat. Her hands trailed over his chest, all but lovingly, and Ersa swore that she could feel the faint sensation of nails raking down her own chest. 

“Hold me. I’m so cold.”

Sam’s face twisted as he stretched away from her, his lips pulling back from his teeth as he sneered. Her hands continued to travel the span of his chest while she watched him squirm in pleasure. Ersa’s leg twitched as she continued trying to move just one of her limbs, but whatever had a hold on her had no intention of letting go. 

“You can’t kill me. I’m not unfaithful.” He spoke through clenched teeth, but his words were clear as day. He knew Constance heard him, for her face morphed into one of pure anger, but even then he didn’t stop.

“I’ve never been.”

His groans rang out as she leaned down quickly, setting her mouth just inches from his ear. When she spoke, both Sam and Ersa could hear her words as if she yelled them. 

“You will be.”

Ersa’s attempts grew in desperation as she watched Constance take Sam’s face in her hands only to lean down and connect her lips with his. She passionately kissed him, but Ersa was now focused on Sam’s hand reaching for the keys in the ignition. She immediately knew what he was trying to do, and she doubled her efforts in trying to move.

Just as the tips of his fingers brushed against the keys, Constance quickly sat up, her eyes flashing. She flickered out of sight for a second before reappearing, though her face was replaced with one that most likely showed how she actually looked, under her “lady in white” facade. 

The car was quiet save for Sam’s pants as they both looked around, searching for any signs of Constance. Their eyes connected and Ersa opened her mouth to ask where the hell she had gone, when “she” appeared once again.

Sam’s screams of pain filled the entirety of the car as Constance’s fingers made contact with his chest. Ersa’s voice joined his, instead yelling at the angry spirit. It was all she could do, send threats towards the woman, as the more she struggled the harder the force pressed against her.

“Look who’s unfaithful now, bitch!” Ersa yelled over Sam’s screams. Her words were jarring enough, even to the spirit, that it made Constance stop. Her head quickly turned to face Ersa, fury flashing in her eyes. Constance looked just long enough for Ersa to notice a familiar figure through the foggy, driver’s side window. The figure was quickly approaching, and she could recognize what they held in their hands.

Taking the spirit’s small slip in concentration, Ersa quickly threw herself to the side, right before the driver’s side window exploded.

Shots rang out and she felt and heard the glass of the window behind her shatter. Her hands instantly flew to cover her face, feeling glass hit the backs of her hands. 

Her eyes were closed, but she could hear a high pitched hiss ring through the air, and it sounded right before Sam’s screams died down.

She opened her eyes, instantly looking for any signs of Constance, but found none. Instead, she found Dean outside of the car, his gun lowering as Sam finally sat up. 

Still panting, Sam reached for the keys and twisted them in the ignition. He spoke over the loud sound of the Impala’s engine, his voice venomous and harsh.

“I’m taking you home.”

 He shifted the car into the correct gear before pressing the accelerator to the floor. The lurching of the car caused the tires to burn out on the dirt as it shot towards the house. 

Ersa had just enough time to turn herself around in the seat and brace herself before the car was crashing through any and everything in the house.

Both of them were tossed around as the car rolled over various types of wood and furniture before coming to a complete stop, throwing the both of them forward. Hurried footsteps approached them from behind, a voice calling out for both of them.

“Sam! Ersa! SAM!” 

“Here!” Sam managed to get out a response, yet Ersa leaned against the door, trying but failing to catch her breath. 

A quick thought shot through her mind, reminding her that she had been a part of two car crashes in the last 15 minutes. It had been one hell of a day. 

“You okay?” Dean’s voice was right beside her ear as he leaned through the busted window of the passenger’s side. His hand landed on her shoulder, gently shaking her. She only groaned a curse word in response to his question.

“I think.”

The sound of the door being wrenched open followed Sam’s words, and she only realized it was her door when she started to lean out of the car. Dean’s hand reappeared on her shoulder, keeping her from hitting the floor but pulling her out of the car.

He waited until her feet were on the ground before letting go and turning to his brother.

“Can you move?” 

“Yeah, help me.”

Her attention, which had previously been on hoping that she hadn’t sustained a damn concussion, was caught by the sound of glass slowly breaking and things being moved. She could hear Dean helping Sam out of the car, yet her gaze stayed focused on one thing. 

Constance held a broken frame, the corners of an old photo peeking out from under it, and she stood staring at it. Even while Sam’s groans filled the air, she kept her focus on the picture in her hands...until she didn’t. 

The sound of the Impala’s door closing caused her eyes to slowly travel up before landing on the three of them. Her eyes made a chill travel down Ersa’s spine, and she could see Dean and Sam freeze in their spots. 

She continued to stare at them as she threw the frame to the ground, not caring where it landed, before quickly stepping to the side. A long dresser flew across the floor towards them, pinning them to the Impala in a matter of seconds. 

Groans fell from three of their lips as they used everything they had to try and push the dresser away. While they tried and failed miserably, Constance took one step but ended up right in front of them. 

Her hand raised towards them but paused on its ascend as light appeared around them. 

The old bulbs of the house crackled as they flicked on and off, and the sight was soon joined by the sound of running water. 

The sound came from the water running down the steps of the staircase, and just as it had gained their attention did it gain Constance’s attention. Most shockingly, her eyes softened as she walked over, or flickered over, to the base of the steps. Her eyes were focused on something just out of their sight.

“You’ve come home to us, mommy.”

Their voices were soft, but...didn’t sound right. Instead of sounding like innocent children, their voices were filled with...vengeance, when speaking to their own mother.

Out of thin air, two young boys appeared behind Constance, prompting her to turn quickly. They looked up at her as her lip quivered, and then they lunged forward...to hug her. The second their arms wrapped around her waist, her head was thrown back and she let out a shrill scream. 

The spot where Constance and her two children once stood was overcome by a barrage of lights. The ground shook beneath their feet, and despite being inside of a house, the wind whipped around them enough to where Ersa had to push her hair back as her curls became stuck in her mouth or on her eyelashes.

The light seemed to grow and expand, Constance’s screams still ringing out, until it just as quickly closed back in on her and her children. As the light shrunk, Constance could faintly be seen disappearing into the floorboards, her children still hanging onto her waist.

Finally, as she disappeared, the light dimmed completely. All that was left was a small puddle of water in the same spot she had been standing.

Her screams seemed to echo in their ears as they stared at the spot she had previously been standing. Ersa didn’t know who moved first, but once they did it prompted her to finally move. 

Her hands found the edge of the dresser, and with the help of Sam and Dean, they were able to effortlessly push it away from them. It crashed against the floor, smashing small trinkets and glass beneath its heavy frame.

The three of them tentatively walked over to the spot, stopping right as the tips of their boots brushed it. They all looked at it, deep breaths wracking their frames.

“So this is where she drowned her kids.”

Sam nodded, his shoulders rising as he took a deep breath.

“That’s why she could never go home. She was too scared to face them.”

Dean turned to his brother, his eyebrows raising slightly. The corner of his mouth turned up into a small smirk as he began to walk past him.

“You found her weak spot. Nice work, Sammy.” As he passed him, he raised his hand, fondly slapping Sam on the chest. A half pained, half-humorous laugh left Sam’s mouth at his brother’s actions.

“I wish I could say the same for you.” Sam turned, his hand laying gently over his chest.

“What were you thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freak?” 

“You could have shot my ass.” Added Ersa, her eyes following Dean’s figure.

Dean’s answer was quick as he turned around, his finger raising to point at both Sam and Ersa. There was now a full grin on his face as he spoke. 

“Hey, I saved your ass- both of your asses.” He paused as he walked to the front of the Impala, bending at the waist and scrutinizing the metal.

“I’ll tell you another thing. If you screwed up my car, I’ll kill you.”

A quick laugh left Ersa’s mouth, causing both brothers to quickly look at her. She shook her head as she walked right up to Dean, her finger poking his chest.

“You know who’s car is screwed? Mine. It’s at the bottom of a cliff, totaled. Your car can take a few bumps and scratches and broken windows. After all, you were the one who thought of the genius idea to shoot through the goddamn windows at a goddamn ghost.” Dean’s eyes widened more and more as she continued to talk. His eyes glanced down at her finger where it still rested against the middle of his chest, before looking back up at her. She should’ve known what was coming when his smile widened.

“Yeah...but I saved your asses.”

Ersa brought her hand back only to shoot it forward against his chest, causing him to quickly let out a breath of air. She stepped around his figure to the door of the Impala before opening it. However, she stopped before getting in and turned to the brothers.

“And you, Sam Winchester,” Sam’s eyes widened in preparation as he waited, “you owe me. Out of all of the car crashes I’ve been in today, YOU caused both of them.” 

She enunciated the end of her sentence by slamming the door after getting in.  

It was silent as the boys looked at each other, and she hoped that they knew that she was only half-joking when she “yelled” at them, though she didn’t have anything to worry about after their quiet laughs could be heard. 

*****

As soon as Dean had maneuvered the Impala out of the wreckage of the house, they had hit the road. 

She couldn’t help thinking about the fact that they had never found the whereabouts of the multiple men who had gone missing, and now, despite them knowing the case was solved...the case would never be truly solved for the loved ones of those who had gone missing. She wondered what kind of hunters did that make them, just focusing on getting rid of the monster. 

Ersa brought this up to the brothers, and Dean had simply replied “we’re not perfect. We do what we can, and then we keep on moving.” 

She hadn’t expressed anymore of her thoughts as they continued to drive down the road, yet she had a lot more. 

Instead of focusing on how they had left things in Jericho, she now thought about how Dean hadn’t asked if she wanted to be dropped off anywhere or if she had anywhere else to go. He had simply asked her if she needed anything before they got on the road, to which she told him that she didn’t. 

The thought that she was in for the long haul excited her while simultaneously making her nervous. They would all have to learn how to trust that the others had their back. Scratch that; she’d have to learn how to trust that they had her back, and they had to learn the exact same.

All of these busy thoughts, however, were pushed to the back of her mind as Sam took out a map and their dad’s journal.

She could barely see anything in the darkness of the car, though that changed when Sam switched on a flashlight. Leaning forward, she rested her forearms on the back of the front seat, peering over Sam’s shoulder.

“Okay, here’s where Dad went.” He had found the coordinates rather quickly and now he pointed at them, their dad’s journal open on the seat beside him. The wind blew through the broken windows and he had to place the flashlight between his shoulder and cheek, his other hand holding the map down.

“It’s called Blackbottle Ridge, Colorado.”

Her eyebrows raised briefly; she hadn’t been to Colorado, yet.

Dean nodded, his gaze focused on the road ahead of them.

“Sounds charming. How far?” It took Sam a few seconds, but he finally replied.

“About 600 miles.” If possible, her eyebrows show up even higher. Were they about to drive, non-stop, for 600 miles? She let out a quiet breath. Good thing she had the entire backseat to herself. 

Dean glanced over at Sam quickly, raising his eyebrows suggestively. 

“If we shag ass, we can make it by morning.”

In a second, with one sentence, the atmosphere of the car became tense. It took her back to the moments on the bridge where they had their argument. 

Sam’s mouth opened but no sound came out; he looked as if he were trying to figure out the right words to say. 

“Dean, um…” He trailed off as Dean continuously glanced over at him. Dean’s expression didn’t change much, but from the small beam of the flashlight, Ersa could see a faint frown turning down the corners of his mouth.

“You’re not going.” Dean’s response wasn’t a question, but more of a realization. A realization Sam only confirmed as he spoke.

“The interviews in 10 hours. I got to be there.”

Sam spoke with urgency, hoping to get his point across to his brother who looked away from him in disappointment. Dean pressed his lips into a thin line as he nodded.

“Yeah. Yeah, whatever. I’ll take you home.” A humorless laugh left Dean’s mouth as he once again focused his attention on the road, no longer sending glances Sam’s way.

Although the conversation had ended, Ersa didn’t want to move. Her eyes flicked back and forth between the two brothers, but she kept her mouth closed. The last thing she needed to do was insert herself into their family matters despite knowing exactly where the tension was coming from. It hadn’t been too long ago that she went through the same thing with her own mother. 

With a soft click, Sam turned the flashlight off, throwing all of them back into the darkness. His head turned to his open window, and she could faintly hear the sound of Dean’s hands tightening on the leather wheel. She took it as her cue to slowly sit back in her seat, internally thankful for the soft rock music coming from the radio as it filled the tense and palpable silence. 

It stayed that way the duration of the drive.

*****

The Impala rolled to a stop in front of a building that had lights in front of it. The lights woke Ersa, although she wasn’t fully asleep. She could tell by the look of it that it was a college dorm building as she picked her head up from where it rested against the window.

Everything was still for a few seconds, all three of them just sitting there in silence. Then, Sam moved.

He opened the door, quickly stepping out and closing it behind him. His voice carried through the open window as he leaned down, looking at Dean.

“You'll call me if you find him?” Dean’s response consisted of him simply nodding, his facial features set into an unreadable expression. Sam tried again.

“Maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?”

“Yeah, all right.” His tone matched his expression when he replied to Sam, nodding once. 

Sam, seeing that that was all he was going to get from his brother, tapped the frame of the car twice before straightening and turning to Ersa. She had a small grin on her face.

“It was great seeing you again, Sam. Good luck with your interview.” 

The smallest grin curved his lips and he actually stepped forward, arms opening to embrace Ersa. She met him halfway, wrapping her arms around his torso gently, before pulling back after a few seconds. 

“It was good seeing you too, Ersa. I’m..uh, I’m sorry about the crash. Both of them.” He grimaced, but it only made Ersa’s grin widen a little. She shrugged one shoulder. 

“Ah, it��s okay. You’ll pay me back, someday.” She raised her eyebrows in faux warning and he huffed out a laugh before turning on his heel. She watched as he started to walk away, but he didn’t get far. 

“Sam.”

Dean’s voice caused him to quickly turn around, and he waited expectantly for what Dean had to say. 

“You know, we made a hell of a team back there.”

Sam nodded, the grin appearing on his face once more. He regarded both Ersa and then his brother fondly before replying.

“Yeah.”

The sound of the door closing echoed throughout the night as Ersa climbed into the front seat. Dean glanced at his brother once more before turning the key in the ignition and slowly rolling off. Ersa could see Sam’s retreating figure as he looked after the car, and then she could see as he finally turned and headed into the building.

The car was entirely silent, not even the radio made a sound, as Dean drove off. Chancing a quick glance over, she could see his jaw working. She thought about the perfect time to say something, and what to say when the time came. She doubted he wanted to make small talk at this moment.

Not even 5 minutes had passed when Dean suddenly jerked the wheel to the side, effectively turning the car around. The action surprised Ersa and she quickly grabbed onto the seat beneath her. Her head whipped in Dean’s direction as he pressed the car to go faster despite the already short distance. 

“Uh...Dean? What’s going on, bud?” His voice was tight as he answered her, his hands gripping the wheel tight.

“Something’s not right.” Her eyebrows furrowed at his incredibly vague answer, and she prepared herself to ask for more specifics...until something caught her eye.

As they grew closer to the building they had just dropped Sam off at, there was the unmistakable sight of smoke billowing towards the sky accompanied with the smell of fire.

Without asking, she knew that Dean had meant that something wasn’t right...with Sam. It became clearer the moment she saw the smoke.

Her eyes widened, and they both gaped at the smoke as they grew closer. Finally, the car came to a stop. 

The car had barely come to a complete stop before Dean was throwing open his door and running straight for the building. Ersa wasn’t far behind, but instead of following him through the doors, she stayed out front. She could only look helplessly up at the cloud of smoke erupting from a window of the building. 

Out of her peripheral, she could see a person running up, their expression mirroring hers. She made sure her voice was heard as she yelled at them.

“Call 911! There’s a fire!” 

Her heart sped up the longer Dean and Sam were in the building, and right as she stepped forward to go in after them, the doors burst open. A number of people ran out of the building, and among them were Sam and Dean.

She felt a huge breath leave her body, though it did nothing to calm her nerves as she realized that Dean was practically carrying Sam’s weight. By now, the students from other dorm buildings were starting to crowd around, their terrified but excited voices filling the night. Their voices were accompanied by the sound of sirens as the fire department and police finally pulled onto the sight. 

Her eyes scanned both boys as they grew closer to her, looking for any signs of injury on either of them. She was satisfied at seeing that neither of them was hurt, but her satisfaction soon dwindled into worry upon seeing the look on Sam’s face.

When they had first exited the building, she had seen Dean practically carrying Sam; now, Sam was walking perfectly on his own, though his face was downturned.

He walked right past her and continued on until he reached the Impala where he instantly went to the trunk of the car. Her eyes followed his actions before turning to find Dean.

She saw him at the very back of the crowd, and she wasted no time in walking up behind him.

“What happened in there?” She kept her voice low, but she knew Dean could hear her. Without looking her way, he replied just as quietly.

“The son-of-a-bitch of killed our mom...just killed his girlfriend.”

She didn’t dare say anything because she didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry” simply wouldn’t cut it in this situation. Her shoulders sagged as she shook her head. She turned around after having watched enough of firefighters entering and exiting the building and walked back to the Impala with Dean not too far behind her. 

When she reached the car, she went and stood beside Sam. She quietly watched as his hands worked through the motions of loading a shotgun. Dean stopped on his other side, simply looking at his younger brother.

The flashing red and blue lights hit Sam’s face just enough to show the tear tracks running down his face, and the sight made Ersa’s chest tighten in sympathy. 

But she knew that he didn’t need sympathy. She could tell just by the hard set of his jaw and the look in his eyes as he glanced between her and Dean.

Sam sniffed and a sigh went through his body as he threw the shotgun into the trunk of the car. 

The night around them was alive and active, though the three of them only had one thing on their mind as they all regarded the trunk full of hunter’s gear. Sam’s voice was hoarse but didn’t waver once.

“We got work to do.”

Oh my gooDNESS. I can’t believe that I actually rewrote the entire first episode. It may seem like a big deal some, but I have a problem with sticking through to the end with some things, and I’m just proud of myself for actually rewriting an entire episode.

ANYWAYS-

I hope you all liked this. second part to the “Pilot” episode! I’m planning on updating every (or every OTHER) Thursday! 

Please like, reblog, and/or comment (seriously, when you comment it makes me smile so gotdAMN HARD)

I hope y’all are staying safe out there!

#supernatural #supernatural oneshot #the cw supernatural #supernatural drabble #dean winchester #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester drabble #dean winchester imagines #Sam Winchester #sam winchester drabble #sam winchester imagines #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester x reader #supernatural rewrite #series rewrite #Jensen Ackles #jensen ackles imagine #jensen ackles oneshot #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles drabble #Jared Padalecki #jared padalecki masterlist #jared padalecki imagines #jared padalecki oneshots #jared padalecki drabbles

[beybladefanfictions]

Ryuga’s Return - Chapter 8

(Description: AU where Ryuga survives Metal Fury but loses L-Drago. He reunites with Kenta and struggles to figure out what he’s supposed to do without Beyblade, his purpose in life for so long. Character’s thoughts are in asteriks.)

Ryuga’s POV

Ryuga and Kenta were sitting on the couch in the living room, watching the dumb show that was Yugioh: the dumb, entertaining show that was way better than it had any right to be based on the concept alone. In the middle of an episode, Ryuga’s phone rang.

“What the?” Kenta asked, pausing the show. “Who in the world is calling you?”

Ryuga picked up his phone. “Madoka,” he answered standing up. “It must be about the bey.”

“Wha…?” Kenta tilted his head to the side.

Ryuga walked to the kitchen, answering the phone as he leaned on the wall. Madoka was on speaker. Ryuga could tell by the distinct whirring sound of her equipment through the receiver.

“Yes?”

“Hey, Ryuga!” Madoka greeted, the whirring sound of her tools suddenly stopping. “I’ve got good news. The WBBA just contacted me about your bey. It’s done! They want you to pick it up at three o'clock today!”

“Okay…?” Ryuga raised an eyebrow. *Why did she call me to say that? She could’ve easily said that over text like she normally would.*

“You’re excited to try it out, aren’t you?” Madoka prompted.

“I’m going to,” Ryuga replied, dodging the question.

“Okay, well you’ll need two people around when you do-”

“You and Kenta,” Ryuga replied, cutting her off.

“Uh… okay, sure! I wanted to see you use your new bey…” She let out a groan. “But I have so much work to do…”

“Take a break.”

Madoka sighed, “Yeah, I could use a break… I just hope Chris, Dynamis, and Tithi don’t mind waiting longer… Well, I’ll see you later, Ryuga.”

Ryuga hung up and walked back into the living room.

“They finished the bey,” he answered, sitting next to Kenta again.

“Wait, really?!” Kenta’s eyes lit up. “About time! Are we picking it up or…?”

“At three. We have time,” Ryuga replied, unpausing the show. Kenta gave him a weird look before looking back at the TV.

*This is it… I’m really going to be getting the new Beyblade.* Before this moment, the idea that Ryuga was getting a new Beyblade seemed intangible or too far in the future to consider but it was happening today. He would have the chance to finally Beyblade again. The thing that had once been his passion, his entire purpose for living, he would be able to do it again. The idea sparked some joy for Ryuga. However, it was short-lived as he remembered that it wasn’t L-Drago. *Can I truly connect with any other bey as I did with L-Drago?* He would find out soon…

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

Ryuga walked beside Kenta and Madoka, his white jacket flapping behind him in the wind. 

“This better be worth it,” Ryuga grunted.

“It will be,” Kenta insisted, looking up at him. “I mean, the bey took a week to make. It’s gotta be good.”

“From what I heard, most of that time was spent trying to figure out how to get it to rotate left,” Madoka informed with a smile. “It’s never been done by the WBBA.” She looked up at Ryuga. “You should be grateful, Ryuga.” She spoke in her normal cheerful tone, yet her words alone were enough to annoy Ryuga.

“Don’t tell me how I should feel,” he growled, his eyes narrowed.

“That’s not-” Madoka looked away, clenching her jaw. “Ugh, whatever, you’re impossible.”

Kenta pushed the door to the building open, allowing Ryuga and Madoka to walk inside before following them. The three of them stepped into the office. The director was sitting at his desk.

“Ryuga…” There was an edge to his tone, like usual. “Here for your Beyblade, I presume?”

Ryuga rolled his eyes. “Why else?”

The director’s eyes narrowed.

“Uh…” Kenta stepped in front of Ryuga. “Do you have it?”

“I do.”

The director held up a red and white bey. Ryuga stepped closer to gaze at it. It was predominantly red and white though there were bits of black on the fusion wheel, along with a depiction of a black dragon on the facebolt. The colours brought to mind Meteo L-Drago: Ryuga’s second bey. His heart suddenly ached.

“Its name is the Jet Black Dragon,” the director informed, dropping it in Ryuga’s hand. “Not the most creative name but it was the best we could come up with.”

Ryuga stared at the bey. It was much lighter in his hand than L-Drago Destructor had been, with a thinner spin track and performance tip. Ryuga dipped his head. Clutching the bey, he turned and walked out of the office. Kenta and Madoka followed.

“Can I see the bey?” Kenta asked.

Ryuga handed it to him without a second thought. Madoka and Kenta both stared at the bey. Ryuga stopped beside them, gazing at the new bey with a chill. *I never would’ve handed L-Drago over like that to anyone, not even Kenta…*

“What did he say it was called?” Kenta asked, looking up at Ryuga.

“The Jet Black Dragon,” Ryuga scoffed. “What a mouthful.”

Madoka rolled her eyes. “Says mister ‘Dragon Emperor soaring flight.’”

Ryuga couldn’t help but smile. “You mixed up my dark move and my ultimate move.”

Madoka looked away, folding her arms. “Whatever.”

“If you’re going to make fun of me, at least do it right,” Ryuga teased, continuing to walk. Madoka and Kenta followed.

“So…” Kenta’s eyes were fixed on the bey in Ryuga’s hand. “Are you gonna rename the bey?”

“I’ll call it something for short…” Ryuga stared at the dragon on the facebolt. “Draco?”

“As in the constellation or the character?” Kenta asked, smirking a bit.

“The constellation, of course.” Ryuga glanced up at the sunny sky. *The same one L-Drago was named after…*

Madoka began giggling to herself. “Ah yes, Draco Malfoy the Beyblade.”

Kenta laughed a bit. Ryuga was too confused to counter them. *They’re clearly talking about something I’ve never heard of.* He turned to his bey, Draco.

“So, uh, where do you wanna test out the bey?” Kenta asked.

“Outside the city. Away from people.” Ryuga growled the last word.

“Um…” Madoka raised an eyebrow. “We’re people, Ryuga.” She gestured to Kenta and herself.

“You don’t count.”

Kenta smiled.

“Wha-” Madoka’s eye twitched. “What is that supposed to mean?!”

“Madoka, it’s a compliment,” Kenta explained, turning to her.

“How do you know?”

“I know him,” Kenta snickered. “He hates people.”

Ryuga smiled a bit, keeping his gaze focused on the path ahead. They walked through the city before reaching the forest where Ryuga would frequently take walks to escape the chaos of Kenta’s family. The trio stopped in a glade, where there were fewer trees to get in the way of his Beyblade.

“You sure this is where you want to use your bey for the first time?” Madoka asked, looking around. “The ground is really uneven here-”

“Nothing I’m not used to,” Ryuga replied with a shrug.

“Here, you can use my launcher for now.”

Kenta handed him a ripcord launcher, very different from the string launcher Ryuga usually used or rather, once used. Ryuga placed the bey on the launcher. Kenta and Madoka immediately backed out of the way. Their gazes were fixed on Ryuga.

A wave of anxiety hit him like a slap to the face and he suddenly froze up. Ryuga looked away. *Where is this stage fright coming from?! I’ve never been nervous about Beyblading, even in front of a large crowd!* Then again, Ryuga had always had full faith in himself and his L-Drago.

He cast a glance at his bey. *Draco… don’t fail me.* Ryuga closed his eyes and took a deep breath before launching the bey.

For a brief shining moment, fire blazed in Ryuga’s spirit, as strong and fierce as a fire breathing dragon. It was almost as if he were still fighting alongside L-Drago. Then he opened his eyes. The bey spinning before him on the forest floor could be mistaken for L-Drago at first glance but the longer he stared, the more the fire in his spirit fizzled out.

“Go Draco!”

Even his words seemed almost empty. The bey drifted to the left with as little effort as Ryuga had put into the command. Madoka and Kenta gawked at the bey.

“They actually got it to rotate left…” Kenta sounded somewhat shocked.

“Well yeah,” Madoka replied, matter-of-factly. “That’s what Ryuga asked for.”

Kenta shrugged. “I didn’t know if they’d actually do it.”

Ryuga struggled to focus on the bey as Kenta and Madoka chatted. Draco’s spin was somehow already slowing. He growled. There was power in this bey, Ryuga could feel it, yet bringing it out was like trying to set fire to water. He silently urged the bey to keep spinning.

“Put your heart into it, Ryuga!” Kenta called.

Ryuga’s focus shattered and the bey wobbled before stopping completely. He let out a grunt.

“Ryuga?” Kenta and Madoka both gazed at him in confusion.

“What happened?” Madoka asked, tilting her head to the side.

Shame washed over Ryuga like a wave in the ocean.

“I’m still getting used to this bey,” he replied, kneeling down to pick up the bey. “It is new after all.”

However, as Ryuga stared at the bey in his hand, he knew what the true problem was. *This bey isn’t mine. How can I connect with this bey if I don’t even consider it mine?* Ryuga’s head hung low. Standing up, he began to walk away.

“Where are you going?” Kenta called, chasing after him. Ryuga stopped. Kenta stopped beside him, staring up at him desperately.

“I need time alone,” Ryuga informed, starting to walk again.

“You’re not allowed to use your bey without at least two other people around, you know?!” Madoka called.

Ryuga tossed the bey and launcher to Kenta, who fumbled a bit before catching them. Like before, Ryuga felt no remorse departing with the bey, this time for a much longer period of time.

“I’ll tell mom and dad that you’re out on a walk,” Kenta informed.

Ryuga nodded his thanks. Even once the two were out of sight, Ryuga’s shame didn’t fade. His failure with the new bey was implanted in his mind, playing on loop. *It must have looked like I wasn’t even trying.* Ryuga had tried: tried desperately to connect with the new bey, but something had prevented him from properly doing so. It was like there was a wall in his brain.

Ryuga couldn’t connect with this bey as he had connected with L-Drago. His original bey had been the only thing he cared about before Kenta came along and somehow found a way into Ryuga’s heart. Ryuga had L-Drago at a time when he had no one else. Maybe that was in part why Ryuga couldn’t imagine ever connecting with another bey in the same way he had with L-Drago.

The entire time Ryuga used Draco, he just felt dumb. He knew from the start he couldn’t replace L-Drago, yet this new bey resembled it in colour, type, and structure. He had even named the bey after the same constellation L-Drago was named after. In retrospect, Ryuga thought it was kind of pathetic. *I have to see Draco as its own bey… that’s the only way I can become more powerful with it.* The idea sparked nothing within Ryuga.

He let out a growl. *Beyblade was my entire life for years and now I get the chance to do it again and I don’t even want to take it?! What am I even doing without Beyblade?!* During the now two weeks Ryuga had been living with Kenta’s family, he had spent most of his time trying to take his mind off his former bey. Sometimes he didn’t have to try as hard, like when he was watching that show with Kenta, but nothing he was doing had any sort of purpose. Beyblade had been his sense of purpose. However, it was abundantly clear now that Beyblade couldn’t do that anymore. Ryuga let out a sigh. *I told Kenta I’d try… My promise is fulfilled.*

Ryuga stiffened when his phone went off.

-Kenta’s dad: Dinner’s almost ready.-

*I guess that’s my cue to return,* Ryuga thought, rolling his eyes. Besides, he was hungry. Hunger was the most powerful motivation Ryuga knew of, whether it was hunger for power or simply hunger for food. Somehow the latter was even powerful enough to make Ryuga deal with Kenta’s parents.

Although it had been a week since he had accidentally fallen asleep at Madoka’s shop, Ryuga was still convinced that Kenta’s parents were mad at him. So rather than annoyance, anxiety grew within Ryuga as he walked to the house. If he put even one foot out of line, it could lead to Kenta’s parents taking their anger out on him, like Doji always had.

Ryuga took a deep breath before pushing the door open. Kenta and his parents were all sitting at the table, gazing up at him as he entered the house.

Kenta’s dad greeted him with a wave. “Hey, there he is.”

*Yeah, I can read.* Ryuga bit back the words. He sat next to Kenta at the table, where a bowl of soup was already waiting for him. It looked a bit like ramen. However, the broth was much lighter than ramen broth and there were far fewer toppings.

“What is this?” Ryuga asked aloud.

“It’s pho, a Vietnamese food,” Kenta explained, holding up some noodles in his chopsticks.

Ryuga looked around the table, but he didn’t see any forks. His blood ran cold when he noticed a pair of chopsticks next to his bowl. *I never properly learned how to use these things…*

Ryuga held both chopsticks close together as if they were a pencil, his fingers bunched up and close to the bottom of the sticks. The few noodles he picked up repeatedly slipped back into the bowl. Ryuga let out a growl.

“You’re… holding them wrong you know?” Kenta’s dad informed, tilting his head to the side. Beside him, Kenta’s mother was covering her mouth with her hand, looking as if she was trying not to crack up.

“I knew that,” Ryuga growled.

He wanted to snap his chopsticks in half. *I must be the only person in Japan that can’t use these stupid things.* He bunched his fingers close together, trying even harder to grip some of the noodles. One of the sticks was flung backwards. Ryuga winced as it hit the table, taking a chunk of noodles and broth with it. Kenta yelped in alarm. Across the table, Kenta’s parents were chuckling.

“You’ve never used chopsticks, have you?” Kenta’s mother asked.

“What gave that away?” Ryuga grunted, doing his best to clean up the broth and noodles with a napkin. Kenta’s parents laughed a bit more. Ryuga glared at them. “Yeah, laugh it up, why don’t you?” Ryuga burned with shame, fighting the urge to duck under the table and hide.

Kenta’s dad snickered. “Sorry, it is a little funny.”

“Do you need help, kiddo?” Kenta’s mom asked, reaching across the table.

Ryuga stiffened, quickly turning to Kenta. “Kenta.”

“Oh, uh, hold them like this.” Kenta held up his chopsticks. His fingers were higher up and much more spread apart, with his pinky and ring finger on one chopstick and his rest on the other.

Ryuga mimicked the position. His fingers instantly felt awkward, but he was finally able to grab some noodles and a piece of chicken in the chopsticks. The soup was, admittedly, delicious, but definitely not worth all that effort. In all his struggling with the chopsticks, Ryuga hadn’t noticed the spoon leaning on the edge of the bowl. He glared at Kenta’s parents.

“Never make me use these again,” Ryuga growled, using his chopsticks to push some noodles onto the spoon.

“You could’ve just said something, kiddo,” Kenta’s dad replied, clearly trying not to smile. “We’ll buy more forks for you to use.”

“Thanks…. Ryuga grunted.

“You could also try using your right hand,” he suggested.

Ryuga dropped his chopsticks to facepalm.

Kenta let out a sigh. “Dad, he’s left-handed.”

“Oh…” Kenta’s dad shrank back a bit, looking away. “Nevermind, sorry.”

“Did you seriously not notice?” Kenta asked, resting his hand on his face.

“I dunno,” Kenta’s dad replied with a shrug. “I thought he was ambidextrous or something.”

“That’s literally less likely, honey,” Kenta’s mom teased, nudging her husband’s shoulder.

Ryuga tuned out their conversation, trying to focus on his food. He didn’t bother using the chopsticks properly. He scooped the noodles and garnishes up with the spoon and stabbed the pieces of chicken with his chopsticks to punish them for their crimes.

“So, Ryuga-” Ryuga stiffened when Kenta’s dad said his name. “-we heard you got your new Beyblade today.”

Ryuga nodded.

“Oh!” Kenta perked up. “Here!”

He grabbed the red and white bey out of his pocket, placing it on the table. Ryuga gazed at the bey. He stiffened, casting a glance at Kenta. *I have to tell him…*

“What’s its name?” Kenta’s dad asked.

Ryuga glanced at Kenta’s parents. *I’ll tell him later, when we can be alone.*

“Draco,” Ryuga answered.

“Like Harry Potter?” Kenta’s mom asked, tilting her head to the side.

*What is she talking about?* “Like the dragon constellation,” Ryuga corrected, pocketing the bey.

“Oh…” Kenta’s mom chuckled a bit. “Yeah, that makes more sense.”

“It’s okay. Madoka and I thought the same thing.” Kenta turned to Ryuga, his gaze suddenly lighting up. “Ooh Ryuga, we should watch those movies.”

“We don’t need another series, Kenta,” Ryuga sighed, resting his hand on his forehead. *Yugioh is more than enough.*

“But Yugioh is really long,” Kenta protested.

“Exactly.” Ryuga stabbed a piece of chicken and bit it off the chopsticks.

“Alright, alright, one series at a time…” Kenta returned to his own food, using his chopsticks like a normal person. “Wait, you’re willing to watch all of Yugioh?!” He gasped, dropping his chopsticks.

Ryuga didn’t answer.

“You do like it then,” Kenta replied, smirking a bit.

Ryuga rolled his eyes. “Shut up,” he grunted, nudging Kenta’s side. *So what, I like one of the characters? The show is still stupid.*

Kenta chuckled into his hand. “But, uh, anyways.” He suddenly sounded serious. “Once you get more practice with Draco, I’d really like to battle with you.”

Ryuga stiffened. “Battle me?” he asked, turning to Kenta.

“Well, yeah.” Kenta tilted his head to the side. “Don’t you want to?” There was disappointment in his voice and on top of that, he was giving Ryuga that stupid puppy dog eyed look.

Ryuga looked away. *I promised him I would try…* He let out a sigh. Ryuga had tried earlier to connect with his new bey, but it had only been for a few minutes. *I can try harder. I never gave up on a bey battle and I won’t start now.*

“I need more practice first,” Ryuga replied, taking a bite of his pho.

“But battling strong opponents is the best way to practice.”

“Kenta, you’re a strong opponent and I can barely control my new bey. I need more practice on my own.” *Well, as alone as I can get with two people constantly watching me.*

“Well…” Kenta nodded. “I guess that makes sense. Is… a week enough time?”

Ryuga fell silent for a few moments. “Sure.”

“Thanks.” Kenta smiled, nudging Ryuga’s side. “I’ll get you back for last time, just you wait.”

“We’ll see,” Ryuga replied, dipping his head.

*He’ll completely destroy me if I don’t figure out how to connect with my new bey.* Ryuga held up the bey. *I have a week… maybe this fight is the push I need.* Despite having no attachment to this new bey, Ryuga couldn’t stomach the idea of losing to anyone.

#beyblade #beyblade metal saga #beyblade metal fight #ryuga #ryuga kishatu #kenta yumiya #madoka amano #was anyone else in this chapter? #this was kind of a short one #that chopsticks scene was pure filler I admit #but I thought it was cute #and I didn't want this chapter to be too short #so behold