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oro-e-diamanti · 3 years

Text

Quiet Music: Leggiero (Chapter Three)

aIn collaboration with @bethanysnow

Small touches, looks, and wine-soaked daydreams lead to whispered conversations on balconies' edge. Put out cigarettes in the middle of the night. Let lips touch as palms do - eventually...

Content | Fluff

Pairing | fem!Reader x Damiano

Word count | 7111

Tag list | @damianodavide @lizstans @unitermoonshine @its-afucking-mess @ethaneskin @dont-let-me-drown-in-you@vampirtet @lividisuigomiti @juststalking @tabi-toast @ethan-torchio-angelo @cheese-toastie-11 @thewitchinthemountain @ethanesimp @sofckinelectric @man3skin @daddydamiano @finelinejpm @superchrystaldrug @ginny-lily @everythingisdefinitelynotfine @nientedaridere @rainbowmarta @tiaamberxx @shaunthesheesh @enjcltaire @rocketqueen @aleksanderwh0r3 @dacey0eg @damianodavidhands @megann-duff @teatrodellavita @coven-daddy @till-you-scream-and-cry @solasullabarca @fanfictionandfluff @makapaka11 @slave4yourlove @geklutst-ei @bidet-and-legolas @ginny-lily

***

The bus rumbled underneath Damiano as he turned around in his bunk, the humming of the vehicle drowning out the clatter and chatter of his bandmates in the background. His head was pounding, but less because of the little alcohol he had consumed the night before and more because of the thoughts that had kept him up all night. This morning, he had made sure to be up before Y/n would come around for her wake up call, got ready and then all but crawled into the bunk on his bus for more sleep. They would play a gig in the evening, but for now he was thankful for the 6-hour drive to Oslo with nothing to do.

He could almost feel himself drifting off, body tired out and mind exhausted, but instead all that he saw when he closed his eyes were scenes from last night.

The room was filled with laughter. Music and Vic’s singing, as Damiano let himself fall onto the bed next to Y/n. She looked gorgeous, hair down, relaxing, a champagne flute in her hand and a slight smile on her face. Even though he knew she’d be worrying about what Thomas was doing to the room and how she was going to get them out of bed the next morning. But mostly she was just gorgeous and he told her so.

His hand reached out before the contemplation of this action had been finished in his brain. The adrenaline from the first show of the tour had him flying, soaring, and there was nothing that could possibly bring him down. Her eyes showed surprise but she didn’t pull away as he put a strand of her hand behind her ear. The gesture was small but Damiano felt like he was on fire, briefly stroking the soft skin under his fingers before pulling back.

He found himself babbling about his hair, but he was much more interested in what she had to say. He wished she would talk about herself more often - so much of his personality was so out there, so much information about himself was literally out there, in magazines and interviews and photos, but she had her walls up, even when they were joking, even when she seemed to be talking freely.

“You’re getting more interesting with every second I’m around you, you know?” The words slipped out of his mouth so easily. She went over it just as easily. Did she not care? Did she not find him interesting? He had hoped for some sort of reply or reaction, but she just continued talking. Maybe she wasn’t interested in him… His brain only allowed the thought for a minute. No, he told himself, she simply was this way. Cool, calm, collected. He was sure he would be able to get her out of her shell further one of these days. He wasn’t going to stop trying.

Next thing he knew, she had thrust her phone into his hand, some picture of her from years ago. He didn’t care much about the outfit or the makeup or the questionable hair, it was her smile that drew him in. There was something carefree about it, something unabashedly confident, something she seemed to have lost since then. There was no way back for him he realised in that moment - it might as well have been this woman or no other ever again.

Next thing he knew, he was complimenting her again, calling her darling, but this time he didn’t have to wait long for a reaction. The drink that had been in her mouth just a second ago was now spluttered on her clothes and some of the bedding. He was about to ask her if she was alright, but she had jumped up from the bed, hands trying to hide her reddening face, and dashed to the bathroom.

Fuck, what happened?

“Damiano! What did you do to the poor girl!” Vic shouted in amusement from across the room. He simply waved it off. He wasn’t actually sure what he had done and it bothered him more than he would like to admit - especially in front of his bandmates. Maybe he had come on too strong, tried too hard, had made it awkward. His plan had been to pay her compliments - not scare her away with them. He would have to reconsider his course of action.

When she came back, it was only to say a quick goodnight, waving and leaving. She only spared him a brief glance, no smile or any reassurance that they were fine.

It had not stopped going through his mind. This morning, she had pretended like nothing had happened, but he knew she had been avoiding his gaze and her smiles didn’t seem quite as genuine as they did before. Damiano let out a low groan into his pillow. This was a mess and a half.

The curtain of his bunk was drawn back harshly, revealing Ethan’s face.

“Why would you scare me like that!” Damiano complained. “I could be jacking off in here!”

“Well, I want to assume you wouldn’t do that in a semi-public space such as this,” Ethan replied with contemplation on his face.

“What do you want anyway?”

“Victoria sent me and told me to tell you, I quote,” Ethan cleared his throat. “‘Stop moping, Damiano, it’s no fun'. So, there you go.”

Without another word, Ethan turned back around, leaving the curtain open, and walked back into the kitchenette of the bus. Out of the corner of his eye, Damiano could see him stealing a bit of fruit from the fruit bowl. He felt no motivation to join them.

***

“He alright?” Y/n whispered to Thomas, who was sitting close to her, guitar on his lap. He just shrugged. Ethan rejoined the group with an unreadable expression on his face, sitting down next to Victoria. Y/n shot him another concerned look, but he simply shrugged as well. She shook her head and got up from her spot, walking over to the counter to make breakfast for everyone. Getting out the waffle maker. Putting the Moka pot on the stove and filling it with water. Too early in the morning for rock and roll. In the background, she could hear the band discussing rehearsals and the show in Oslo.

As soon as the smell of food hit the three bandmates, they were all over Y/n, hovering around the little kitchenette, pushing and shoving each other to be first. Y/n looked at all of them in turn. Thomas was currently standing on the couch, raising his hand to smack an unsuspecting Vic who was looking the other way. A single raised brow from Y/n got him back down onto the ground.

“Hey! I’m older, I go first!” Victoria pushed Thomas back.

“Maybe, but it still took your mum nine months to think of a good joke,” Thomas retorted.

Ethan turned around, chuckling at his friends’ banter - but Y/n’s reaction was far more blatant. She started to laugh, a loud, almost cackle that the band had never heard before. Her smile easily reached her eyes and she gave a little applause at Thomas’ joke. “I- I;” she gasped in between laughs, “I know it’s not that funny but it just got me, sorry!” Finally managing to bite her tongue, she went back to serving breakfast.

Out of the corner of her eye, Y/n saw Damiano leaning so far out of his bunk to find out where the sounds and the laughter were coming from. The driver though couldn’t have known it was a bad moment to go over a pothole. With a loud thud, Damiano crashed out from his bunk and onto the hard floor. Chili, excited at the prospect of being able to reach him, ran over to lick his face.

“Eh! Chili, hi. Vic! Come get your dog!” He groaned, picking up the golden fluff and sending it back to her owner. She trotted away happily, over towards Victoria, who was a giggling mess after seeing her friend’s fall. He rolled his eyes at her grin.

“You gonna come join us, sleepy boy? I made coffee,” Y/n said, still trying to keep the peace between everyone. Pouring coffee into a mug, she walked over to Damiano and bent down, handing him the beverage. “I don’t really care if you want to spend the entire day on the floor, but I think your fans might tonight. So come join the party, hm?” Her voice was soft and enticing. Damiano’s eyes sparkled at her invitation. But still, his face was burning red. He sighed and nodded.

Y/n stepped back, taking the cup after he had taken a long sip, and reached her hand out to him. With a swift movement, Damiano was back up on his feet, immediately losing his balance and crashing into Y/n’s shoulder. More blushing on his part. He had not been expecting this amount of strength from her. Not caring about his little bump into her, she dusted him off, picking some fuzz out of his hair, her hand so close to his face, yet so far. She handed him the coffee once again and gave him a smile, before going back to her little corner on the bus as everyone devoured their breakfast.

Damiano watched as she tidied up after everyone had finished, constantly making sure what was effectively their home during tour would stay homely. She always looked like she belonged, and he admired her for that. After one last wipe down of the counter, she quickly addressed everyone on the bus, asking if she was needed for anything else right now, and after a round of head-shaking from everyone, she grabbed her laptop and retired to a quiet corner on the bus. It was only when she briefly looked up to find his eyes and gave a slight smile that he realised he was still watching her every move. Embarrassing, he scolded himself.

Damiano started fumbling for his bag, grabbing a notebook and a pen. He had too many thoughts running around in his head, too many images and ideas about Y/n, and he felt like the only way to get rid of them was to write. Maybe he’d even be able to make something out of it. Anything would be better than staring and dreaming about her anyway.

***

Two more hours until Oslo. With a heavy sigh, Y/n pushed the laptop away from her, neck cracking as she finally moved her bones a little. Suddenly, a pair of hands came down onto her shoulders. She only flinched for a moment before she realised it was Damiano, slowly starting to massage her tense flesh. Her head fell forward and she waved her hand to have him keep going. His fingertips digging into hours of uni work, work work, other work. Tension all living in her neck being slowly worked away by the singer.

"I'm not gonna turn down a free massage," she chuckled, feeling his talented fingers remove knot after knot. Then, suddenly, they became softer. She could hear Thomas in the background shouting something at Damiano. Taking his attention away from her, and all it left was soft fingertips on the sensitive skin on her neck. Dancing along and leaving goosebumps in their wake without him even knowing what he was doing to her. She shivered under such a light touch. A groan left her lips as she was falling deeper under his spell. At this point, she didn’t care. A very pretty man was smoothing his hands over her neck and shoulders and it was nothing short of lovely. Normally this wouldn’t be on Y/n's top list of things she would allow - but a 6-hour bus ride and sitting in one place for most of it was a killer.

I could fall asleep like this - fuck…

She was snapped back to reality when she realised that Damiano was once again staring at her screen, asking what she was working on, hands never moving from their position. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to concentrate like this.

“Oh, I’ve, um,” she awkwardly fumbled with the laptop, “I’ve been trying to memorise this sonnet. I’m doing a course on Shakespeare this semester and we’ve been told to pick our favourite by him and I think I finally decided on mine. It’s Sonnet 128 - um. One of the only sonnets to give you an actual scene in place. It’s from the perspective of this guy watching a bard and just craving to be touched, used, kissed by this person. To have the same sort of attentive mastery be directed at him instead of the player’s instrument. Describing the person listening to this bard play… Wait, would you just like me to read it to you?” Y/n looked up at Damiano. He nodded as he slid into the seat beside her. She moved the laptop so she could see its screen still and began to speak.

***

Sitting next to her wasn’t as bad as Damiano thought. After working on her neck and shoulders, her perfume had rubbed off onto his skin. Light and warm, not super floral, but he didn’t peg Y/n to be a flower kind of woman anyway. Looking at her face now, he noticed things he hadn’t seen before. Faint freckles, little lines around her eyes, the pink tint on her lips. Her hair was done up again in a bun. He could see a couple of bobby pins trying to hide in her wild hair. Then she started to recite the piece and his chest was exploding. He felt as if he was watching winter melt away and spring come.

“How oft, when thou, my music, music play’st”

Oh, what he would do to be her muse, Damiano thought. Her voice, low and soft, was like music itself to him, never mind the way her eyes lit up at the words she repeated from the screen. A little light inside of her, one he hadn’t encountered before.

“Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds With thy sweet fingers, when thou gently sway’st”

Her fingers were just as sweet, his mind piped up as he tried to listen to her more closely. Some light polish on her nails that he hadn’t noticed before, but now that she was scrolling through the laptop, it was like he couldn’t keep his eyes off them. Quickly exploring images of them tangled in his hair, scratching down his back ever so slightly. Stop, he told in his own head in vain. Just stop and listen, for once. Yet the ideas of her he had hidden away kept demanding attention.

“The wiry concord that mine ear confounds,

Do I envy those jacks that nimble leap

To kiss the tender inward of thy hand,”

He tried so hard to concentrate. To listen, to take in the words she was reciting, to grasp their meaning and what they meant to her, but it was hard, getting harder. In an uncalculated move on his part, his arm swung around her shoulders, not pulling her closer, just letting her know he was there, right now, right here, with her. His hand resting on her upper arms, feeling the warmth underneath the fabric of her blouse.

“Whilst my poor lips, which should that harvest reap,

At the wood’s boldness by thee blushing stand!”

His eyes travelled up from her fingers, over her soft and curvy figure, her delicate neck, to her blushing face. She was blushing an awful lot with him and he had not yet figured out completely if this was a good sign or not. Either way, he thought she looked adorable, a natural pink on her cheeks. Slightly restless eye movements that didn’t match up to the words she was reading, a certain nervousness overtaking her. He wanted to make her blush like that for the rest of his life if he could. He silently wondered if she would blush that much if… if it was just the two of them, alone in some random hotel room, a whole world of exploration before them.

“To be so tickled, they would change their state

And situation with those dancing chips,

O’er whom thy fingers walk with gentle gait,

Making dead wood more blest than living lips.”

His eyes betrayed him, flicking down to her lips as soon as she said the word. Soft, a light tint on them, pronouncing every syllable in the most mindful way. He wondered if she would let him kiss her. What. His brain flickered between two emotions. Yes, yes, yes. He would give everything to feel her sweet mouth on his, getting her close, inhaling her scent, pouring his every thought into a kiss. No. What was he thinking? She was their assistant. Strong, gorgeous, fiercely independent, and surely not interested. Right? He couldn’t help wondering. Would she let him kiss her? Would she want him to? Had she thought about it, the way he was right now?

“Since saucy jacks so happy are in this,

Give them thy fingers, me thy lips to kiss.”

Their eyes met and Damiano hadn’t even noticed how much closer he had edged towards her. It would only take a little bit, one more breather, a tiny motion, to put his lips on her, to feel what she was feeling, and the way she looked at him had him craving, obsessing and he almost dared himself to do it, when a voice pulled him out of his thoughts, pulled him away from her.

“Y/N! I don’t understand how the waffle maker works!”

Damiano had never wanted to kill his bandmate more than at that moment. With a groan he turned around, seeing Thomas fumble with the appliances in their little kitchen area, a dumbstruck look on his face, and puppy dog eyes pleading Y/n for help. She only gave a low chuckle, before getting up and walking over to the guitarist, leaving Damiano with a head full of thoughts that all circled around her.

***

That was close, Jesus Christ! My face is so warm… how are his eyes that pretty? How have I never noticed that before? I wonder if he was thinking about the same thing as I was back there…

***

The crowd was roaring out by the main stage. Crew held their places waiting for the queue to go. The band stood off stage trying to sneak a peek at the audience. Hundreds more people than they were expecting. Y/n sat in a metal chair that was dubbed ‘her chair’ so she could watch the performance from behind the main curtain to cheer the band on without being seen. The lights in the main room were being lowered, the playlist that had been on in the background slowly being turned off, as the noise of the audience got impossibly louder. The band was getting nervous now, the good kind of nervous. Thomas jumping around to get his energy levels up before they would get the sign to get on stage. Y/n smiled at them in turn, returning a little wave Ethan was giving her. Just as they were given the go-ahead, and all of them started to jog on stage, Damiano took a little detour, sending her a smile that would set all the butterflies free in her stomach, before pressing a little kiss to her forehead. He was gone before she had a chance to react. Yet, she froze. Damiano looked back and it was the most perplexed, confused, and adorable expression he had ever seen on her.

It was an expression Damiano couldn’t get out of his head for the rest of the concert, even long after she had lost it - and he knew she had because he couldn’t keep himself from looking over at her every now and again. He was fascinated by the way she watched them.

And if she was watching? Well, then he was going to put on a show.

He pulled all the tricks he knew - well those that were fitted to the situation and venue. During one of their songs, he decided to pull his favourite one. With a low grunt, he ripped his shirt apart, throwing it across the stage, unable to wipe the smile off his face. Until he looked over to where his top had landed and his eyes fell onto Y/n, standing beside the stage, now with a performance-rich torn tank top on her face. Maybe his aim had been a little off. The look on her face as she removed the fabric made him laugh. At least she isn’t hiding now, he thought, before going back to the song.

During “You need me, I don’t need you”, one of the covers they had chosen for the night, he couldn’t fight the grin, knowing his favourite lyric of the night was coming up.

“Melody music maker, reading all the papers, they say I’m up and coming like I’m fucking in an elevator.”

Where Damiano would usually take the chance to suggestively hump the mic stand and focus on the audience, this time he did it while looking straight at Y/n. Her face clouded red, eyes looking at him with a flustered glare. He simply winked at her.

Similar things kept happening throughout the night, any song to do with sex or romance, any innuendo, it was all directed at her. To him, it was all about her all the time, and he made sure to let her know.

***

After one last encore, the band left the stage, the sound of the crowd chanting their names in the background. Once backstage, they all exchanged hugs, all pumped up from the adrenaline and the successful show. A massive gift basket sat in the corner, filled with beers, chocolates, some skincare products, and flowers, along with a note from the venue welcoming them to Oslo and thanking them for playing. Vic immediately grabbed Y/n.

“When we get back to the hotel - up for a girl’s night?” Wriggling her eyebrows at the assistant, she picked out some of the products from the red tulle in the basket.

“As if I could say no to you.”

***

“Okay, what’s first, face mask or red wine?” Victoria asked, holding up both items in her hands as she followed Y/n into the hotel room, Chili yapping at both of their feet, dying to get attention from anyone.

“I will pour the wine if you open the face mask stuff,” Y/n decided, picking up Chili for some snuggles, before putting the dog down on the bed and grabbing the wine glasses. “Don’t have a girls' night often, so this is nice.”

“I keep having them with the boys but it’s not really the same,” Vic laughed. “They never want me to pluck their eyebrows or anything! Oh, and please be careful with the wine around Chili, I drenched her once and it didn’t come out of her fur for ages.”

“You - you did what now? Wait, nope, I don’t wanna know. But to be honest, I would kill to get Ethan on my lap with some tweezers in my hand. Boy, does he need it. Not by much, sweet guy. Just, uh, you know?” Within a moment or two wine was being poured and handed to the blonde. “I didn’t know how much you would want but we can always add more,” Y/n stated, hopping onto the bed next to Vic.

“Oh, very sweet guy with unpredictable hair, really!” Vic said, grabbing the glass and downing more than half of it in one go already, before sitting down next to Y/n with the little pot she had opened and a little applicator for the cream. “That’s so fancy, I usually just slap it on my face with my fingers.”

“Same! Thinking we’re posh fucks, aren’t they?” Y/n grinned, looking at the tiny skincare items, another sip of wine. Chili curled up between the two women. “You looked like you had fun at the concert.”

“It’s so good to be back on the road and I feel like we’ve really found ourselves as a band now. We’ve only played two shows but it’s already my favourite tour. I’m convinced it’s because you’re here, too, by the way, you really fit in with us,” Victoria smiled at her, sipping from the glass, then putting it away on the nightstand and motioning for Y/n to do the same. “Come here, I’m gonna do your face.”

“Ah, I wouldn’t say that. You guys have been absolutely killing it. You got here by your own accomplishments and will, that’s hard to do. I am far more surprised at how well I’ve been able to fit in with you all. I’m, uh, as you can see,” putting the glass away, she scooted to face Victoria, “not as… ‘rock and roll’ and I would have assumed you’d want your assistant to be. But glad I got stuck with you though.”

“Oh, shush,” Vic said, sternly, as she began applying the cream to Y/n’s face. “You fit in just fine. Firstly, I think we definitely need someone to keep us grounded a bit sometimes and secondly, I am absolutely convinced there’s a lot more rock and roll in you than you think - you just wait until you’ve been exposed to us for longer, you’ll see!”

“Well, I agree with the grounded part. You realise that today during breakfast Thomas was climbing on the sofa about to smack your head just to get further in line? That boy does not stop.” She relaxed into Vic’s touch, silently deciding that girls' nights needed to be a more regular thing. This was great. “Ethan said something similar - something about ‘head banging right along with everyone else’. You all have it out for me don’t you?!” She asked, putting on an overly dramatic, surprised look.

“No, he didn’t!” She exclaimed, astounded. “I’m gonna get him back for that tomorrow. Anyway, Ethan was right, you won’t be able to resist our bad influence forever, Y/n! So, have you been to gigs before taking this job, or is this still something new to you?”

“I have been to gigs before, but they were more music festivals, and I was never one for EDM or anything. The heat and lots of glittery, sweaty people drunk on warm beer? No, thank you. Or they would get a new assistant for a tour and the job would end. Not in a bad way, it's just how it is as an assistant. You do your job until they don’t need you anymore.” She shrugged. “I don’t know if it’s the wine or you, but I don’t think I’ve talked this much about myself really since I started this job. Not this particular job, mind you, but the whole P.A. thing.” Y/n chuckled, pulling her hair back into a tighter ponytail to keep out of the way of the fancy skincare.

“Hm, now I just keep thinking of putting glitter on you and getting you in the middle of a good punk gig one of these days,” Vic giggled as she finished up Y/n’s facemask, motioning for her to return the favour. “Let’s make the most of this wine then, I’m going to pour you another glass and you tell me a bit more about yourself.”

Grabbing the little pot of face mask, Y/n gently held Vic’s face, slowly applying the cream. “I’m going to be an alcoholic by the end of the tour, aren’t I? Um, well, I had a boyfriend, he was a prick, we broke up. My best friend lives in London in our old flat. My favourite films are old Hollywood romances. ‘Singing in the rain’, stuff like that. I dunno really. I’m just Y/n. Though I was thinking we should find a way to line Damiano’s trousers so that if they - when they rip apart, you see the lining and not the man’s underwear. Not that I think he cares, actually.” She truly was unable to turn work off completely, even on a night off.

Victoria couldn’t contain the giggle, receiving a scolding look from Y/n, who almost put the cream in her hair by mistake. “Thinking about Damiano’s underwear a lot, huh? Can’t blame you, that man is as pretty as they come. You can be happy they’ve all not gotten to the point where they just hang out on the tour bus in just their boxer shorts, but believe me, that day will come sooner or later!”

“I have not!” She insisted as her face betrayed her, telling a completely different story. “That is unprofessional and objectifying. I hope it doesn’t happen at all. You saw my face before when you all decided to ‘put on a little show’ in the dressing room.” She took the glass from Vic to take a sip. “Anyway.” She started blending out the face mask with fingers, careful not to get it into Victoria’s hair. “Would there be anything you want to know? I am never good at talking about myself.”

Chili nuzzled into Victoria’s leg, getting more needy. “I don’t want to cross any boundaries here, but honestly - why do you work so hard? I’ve only known you for like three days but you never seem to relax, you’re always either busy working for us or working on your projects and when you have a minute to breathe you end up cleaning after us or just going above and beyond taking care of us. I’m not complaining,” she held her hands up, laughing. “It’s great, but it’s a lot, huh?”

“Um… I can’t lie. Not to you or the band. Lying isn’t good for you anyway. But.. I don’t know. Lots of stuff happened before I moved to Italy. Lots of not-so-good stuff. So, I had a lot of reserved pent-up energy, still do. So I had to find ways to put it into things. Now I put it into my work because it’s my new dream. I put it into the band because I care about you. I want to see this tour do well…” Y/n stopped for a moment, caught off guard by the question, looking back and forth between Victoria and her own reflection in the wine. “I want to prove to myself that I can achieve and be successful. I am also a giant workaholic, though, like it’s bad,” she giggled, as Chili now put a paw on Vic’s thigh, demanding attention.

“Well, if you gotta do that whole workaholic thing, I’m glad you’re doing it for us,” Vic smiled, placing a soft hand on Y/n’s arm. “Just make sure to make some time to let loose every now and again. I’m sure any of us would be happy to help you with that.” She turned on her phone to check the time. “I should probably get this mask off now, give me a second,” she explained before getting up and skipping to the bathroom sink.

“Yeah, that’d be good,” Y/n said, also taking note of the time. “Doesn’t Chili need to go out now? There’s no grass on the balcony or I’d let her do her business here.” She stood up, placing the wine glasses on a little counter, trying to force the cork back into the bottle. “Thank you for tonight though, we should make it a thing.”

“Yeah, I’ll take her out for her evening walk now.” Victoria came back, hair slightly damp from where she had washed her face too hastily. “But let’s definitely do this again, next to Ethan you’re like the most calming person on this tour to hang out with.” She moved to give her a hug, only to realise Y/n still had the mask on, so instead, she opted for an awkward shoulder rub and a giggle. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“You do realise it is my job to follow you around and see you tomorrow? Like, that is what I am paid to do. But hell, I’d still do it if it wasn’t my job,” she smiled, nudging Vic’s shoulder. “Now go get Chili out and then get some sleep yeah? Important things like sleep, food, water, everything you people seem to keep forgetting about!”

“Well, that’s what we have you for now, don’t we?” Victoria laughed, picking up a whining Chili and already halfway out the door. “But you get some sleep too! No working through the night, I am ordering you to bed - as your boss!”

“Of course!” Y/n laughed, shutting the door behind the bassist. After taking off her mask, she put the rest of Vic’s leftover wine into her glass and went out onto the balcony with her laptop. Pulling out all the bobby pins and the hair tie, she ran her fingers through her hair, brushing out the knots and letting it hang loose. The light from the sunset had long been gone by the time they had gotten to the hotel. Only street lights and the blue screen were illuminating the space of the balcony. The outdoor space was large enough for a table and chairs. The street down below was faintly noisy as people and cars passed by, but not enough to disturb her peace and quiet.

***

So much for an early night, Damiano thought, staring at the screen of his phone, as Ethan slept soundly in the next bed. With a sigh, he kicked the blanket off his legs, grabbing a pack of cigarettes from the nightstand, and sneaking out onto the balcony without waking his bandmate. Maybe a smoke would help. His eyes drifted from the rather unspectacular view out front to where he noticed movement to his right, only to see Y/n on her own balcony, right next to his.

Y/n was relaxing in her chair, glass of wine in her hands, mouthing the words to something on the computer in front of her. Entirely focused on whatever she was working on, she didn’t notice Damiano’s door opening and closing. She took a drink of her wine, leaving a dark red stain on her lips, then stood up to face the street. Laptop on her arm and looking outward, she mumbled the words on the screen to herself. He just about managed to make out what she was saying.

“But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?

It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.

Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,

Who is already sick and pale with brief- Wait, no. Grief. Okay.” She cleared her throat. “Who is already sick and pale with grief. Stupid tiny font is gonna be de death of me,” she mumbled, trying to zoom into the text.

Damiano watched her, a chuckle on his lips, both amused and amazed at seeing her play out the scene on her own. With a quick flick of his lighter, he turned to his cigarette, taking a drag, wide awake. The low light of the moon was illuminating her figure and her hazy movements and for a while he allowed himself to simply be fascinated by her. By the way she moved. Performing fully committed to the open air. Then she made a particularly dramatic, sweeping gesture in her monologue and he knew he couldn’t keep quiet any longer.

“Hey there, Juliet.”

The surprise went through her like an electric shock, she was stumbling over nothing, almost dropping the laptop from her arms, as she turned around towards him so fast, he was sure her hair was going to give her whiplash.

“Ah fuck - Damiano?!” She gasped delicately into the night. “You’re going to give me a heart attack one of these days!”

Hopefully, for very different reasons, he thought to himself.

“Sorry,” he sheepishly replied. “What are you doing? It’s almost 2 am.”

“You know I could very well ask you the same thing.” She looked at him accusingly. “If you didn’t have the day off tomorrow I’d be ordering you back to bed immediately.”

Damiano briefly considered a suggestive comment, but instead, let the cigarette between his lips keep him quiet. Y/n was putting her laptop away now, sinking back down into the lounge chair as he walked over to the edge of his own balcony, leaning over the railing to get a better look at her.

“You know I’ve not forgiven you for your antics at the concert tonight yet,” she suddenly stated, pulling him from his thoughts. The smirk flashed over his face naturally. He wondered if she was blushing again, but the little light the moon and her laptop screen gave off didn’t tell him anything. He was hoping she was.

“I promise I didn’t mean to hit your face with my top,” he laughed.

“But you obviously did mean everything else you did!” An accusing finger was pointed his way. “I did not appreciate that.”

For a second he flinched, wondering if he had gone too far, crossing a boundary. But then she looked back at him with a smile she was obviously trying to push away, unsuccessfully. Glass of wine in her hand, she sauntered over to him, while he put out his cigarette on the railing. She leant over her own railing, mirroring his movements. At a slow pace, like she knew he was watching, she sipped from her glass. His eyes falling to the way her neck was exposed as she threw her head back, tracing the soft skin with his glances until she set down the drink. There was a droplet of red wine on her lip and he wished their balconies were closer together, fantasising about reaching out and wiping it away, feeling just how soft she would be under his touch.

“Not that… I didn’t like it.” She paused. “Also not the first time I’ve been hit in the face with a shirt. So there’s that.” Y/n laughed.

“Now you’ve got me curious - who else would hit you with a shirt? Are you trying to tell me you’ve been to strip clubs?” Damiano laughed. Teasing her came easy to him.

“Dancers. With aim as terrible as yours, Mr. David. And I don’t know if you want the answer to the second question,” she smirked. When they were alone like this, she seemed more at ease. That, or it was the wine. He didn’t know.

“Dancers, huh? Think you could teach me a thing or two? Or, you know, were you just watching, lusting over sexy men?”

“Ah! I would do nothing of the sort. Most of the guys there weren’t into girls anyway. Wouldn’t do me much good… Damiano, I could teach a lot of things. You to dance? God help us all.” She made a dramatic cross across her body, laughter twinkling in her eyes.

“Now, Y/n, I’d let you teach me whatever you wanted,” he winked. “Preferably something… active, hm?” He could keep from laughing as he saw her unimpressed face, staring him down and shaking her head. He’d rile her up for the rest of his life if she gave him the chance.

“I once met this Italian guy, came to the studio. Thought he was God’s gift to dance. But you Italians all have that, bravado, confidence, whatever you wanna call it. Well, after learning the first intermediate step, he fell flat on his face and went back to beginner lessons. You gonna be like that?” Raising a brow at him, she leant further over the railing on her side.

Damiano puffed up his chest, comically, trying to make himself appear bigger in a useless attempt to impress her. “Now, you’ve obviously not met the right Italians yet, amore mio. Sounds to me like you need a real Italian to show you the way.”

Just like this morning, she burst out laughing, letting out cackles that filled the air with joy. “Sorry - not laughing at you. Just thought what you said was funny.” She looked down, and as dark as it was, he could see the same signs he had seen before. Shy expression, holding herself close to her body. The slight panic of not knowing what to say. “You’re real Italian, alright. You seem to always know what to say. Now is that an Italian thing or a Damiano thing?” She asked, sarcastically, to deflect the fact that her face was heating up.

Amore mio…that's what did it. He felt like he was unlocking a single puzzle piece at a time, slowly putting her together and making sense of her. He couldn’t wait to get the whole picture one of these days. “Maybe it’s a you thing,” he simply said. The night was making him strangely comfortable with being honest. “Maybe you just bring it out in me.”

“Eh - I’ve been told I bring out a lot of things, never a savant before.” She was still looking down, at her hands, starting to pick at her nail polish. Some little nervous tick that he hadn’t caught onto till now. “It’s late, you should go to sleep, Dami. I am sure that bed is missing its handsome owner right about now.” She started to look far away, picking up the wine glass and taking the last sip.

He had barely heard what she had said - too focused on her calling him Dami, for the very first time. It was like a little shudder running through him, knowing she was growing closer to him as the time passed. “Are you okay, though? I’m sure my bed will survive without me a little bit longer.”

“Oh, I’ll be fine. Don’t you worry about me, I worry enough as it is. Tomorrow is a day off, so I won’t be waking you up in the morning, bus call isn’t until later. Um, but I will be getting breakfast. Is there anything you would want?”

“As long as it involves coffee, I’m happy. I’m sure you’ll pick out the perfect thing anyway.” Damiano watched as she nodded, moving towards the balcony doors and away from him. He felt like grabbing her just to keep her there. He straightened up as well, just barely backing away from the railing. As she left he looked at the space she once occupied, feeling like he could almost make out the outline of her body where it once had been.

Amore mio...

#maneskin fiction #damiano david fiction #damiano david imagine #damiano david x you #ethan torchio x reader #maneskin imagine #maneskin x you #maneskin x reader #thomas raggi x reader #damiano david x reader #writers block #bethanysnow #quiet music

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honeykngdom · 2 years

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𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚢 | 𝚎. 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕 | 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚠𝚘

Pairing: Embry Call x Original Character Summary: Join Ainsley and Embry as they embark on a journey where they are forced to question everything they thought they knew, and embrace the pain that is inevitable to avoid in love. An imprint story. Self-discovery. Angst and romance.Word Count: 6.5k Warnings: none, we get some 1:1 em & ains time and some beach soccer! A/N: Hello beautiful humans, here is part two! I hope this gives everyone some much needed Embry content and 1:1 quality time and rapport building. 10/10, these two are very cute and I'm super excited to take a spin with the imprinting concept! prev. chapter | next chapter

The intricate weaves of the flames held my attention throughout the duration of the evening; every so often, the smoke would gravitate towards me and I would cover my eyes to keep them from burning. The only time I moved my eyes from the fire was to scan the crowd, admiring the way the light illuminated across the features of my extended family. When my gaze found its way to Embry, I’d linger a moment or two longer, watching the way the flames danced in his brown orbs before I looked away to keep the heat from rising in my cheeks.

I found myself growing more uncomfortable as the night went on, trying to avoid making unnecessary conversation, not wanting to draw attention to myself.

The numbers on my phone read 𝟷𝟷:𝟹𝟺𝙿𝙼. I felt the coldness seeping into my extremities, my breath swirling out in cloudy circles in the bitter air. I pulled my knees up to my chest, hugging my brother’s jacket around my frame tightly. I thought back to the warmth of the house earlier in the day, suddenly longing for it. Kim, Emily — even Claire — all seemed to be toasty warm alongside their respective campfire partners. Claire was only nine, and had yet to complain.

I looked over at Jennie, who seemed so incredibly content and at home alongside her brother. I almost felt bad for wanting to leave so soon; I knew how much time like this meant to Jennie. Instead, I turned my attention to Travis, who was in the middle of talking about his program at Peninsula College.

“So, what? You’re gonna be a cop like your dad?” Seth asked, twirling a strand of hair between his long fingers.

Travis shrugged. “That wasn’t necessarily the plan. I was thinking more about security or corrections.” He grinned, rubbing his hands together between his knees. “Something a little more hands on.”

I rolled my eyes, sharing a knowing glance with Trent as he shook his head in slight disapproval. While the boys had always been the type to fight it out, Trent believed less that violence was a stable foundation to create a career from. Travis might have had a good heart, but we were aware that he was approaching it with the wrong mindset. We just didn’t know how to tell him.

Seth pursed his lips, seeming to consider Travis’s answer in the same manner TJ had. He wanted to believe there was some positive reinforcement, but sometimes Travis was quite simply a jerk who wanted to be the biggest jerk with a legitimate reason. I loved my brother very much, but I couldn’t help but think he was looking forward to being a jerk for the rest of his life because he felt like he wouldn’t be able to accomplish much else.

“I think it’s a great idea.” Leah quipped from her place beside Kim, her fingers gripping tightly onto the bottle in her hand. “Corrections is a really great area to get into, we could use better rehabilitation.”

Travis seemed to appreciate her words, and raised his beer. “I’ll drink to that.” He laughed, tilting his head back as he took a few swigs.

I went back to watching the fire, thought about moving my chair forward, thought about joining Sam and Emily and their child on the other side to side on a log closer to the fire. But Embry rested so comfortably beside Sam, so I quickly dismissed the idea. After fifteen minutes, I mumbled something about needing to go home before my toes fell off.

I shrugged out of Trenton’s jacket, handing it back to him despite his obvious interest in the conversation between the other guys. Jennie looked up at me as I was leaving, raising an eyebrow in silent question.

“I’m going to head home.” I smiled sheepishly. “Did you two need a ride?” I asked, looking down at the empty bottles my parents had finished off and put away to the side.

TJ shook his head. “Trent’s going to drive us back since Trav can’t.” I looked over to where Travis popped the cap off another bottle, his own collection growing around his feet.

“Just get home safe, ‘kay?” I leaned down to wrap my arms around my mother, pressing a kiss to her cheek before I turned around to head back towards the side of the house where I parked and wrapped my arms around myself.

Just as I was about to reach the porch, I heard Jennie calling out my name. “Ains, baby, wait a sec!”

I turned around, trying not to let the slight annoyance surface to my features as I looked backwards towards where my mother stood gesturing to Embry, exchanging a few words before she looked over at me.

“Would you mind giving Embry a ride?”

I froze in place for a moment, trying not to think about being in such a confined space with someone who, for the most part, made me feel about a thousand different things. It didn’t matter how good looking he was, it didn't matter how much I caught myself searching for his eyes all night. Embry was standing just beside my mother, watching and waiting patiently for me to give indication he had permission.

I pressed my lips together, my eyes just barely fluttering shut before I nodded my head once. “Sure.”

One side of Embry’s mouth turned up in a large smile, causing my heart to flutter erratically in my chest. Damn it. I watched as he leaned over the fire to speak with Quil, their hands meeting briefly in a sort of goodbye bro-shake before he turned and jogged to where I stood, lips fully spread into a wide smile.

“Thanks for the ride.” He said, slowing to a walk just beside me as I turned around the corner of Billy’s house.

“Mhm,” I hummed, slipping my eyes away from him to watch the ground as we walked. “Were you even drinking? You only had like two —” I stopped myself, chewing on my inner cheek for a moment before I cleared my throat and continued, “I mean, it didn’t look like you were drinking all that much. Couldn't you drive yourself?”

Embry raised a single brow and shook his head. “I work night shifts three times a week, so I don’t typically drink.” He looked down at my folded arms and bumped my hip as we walked. “I also don’t have a car — well, I do. I just prefer to use my feet as my main method of transportation. Speaking of driving,” he stopped me short of the Jeep, pulling his brows together as he breathed through his next words, “can I drive?”

I blinked, staring up at him in astonishment for a moment. I had been asked for a ride home plenty of times; from the time I had received my license and purchased my beloved Jeep, girlfriends had asked her for rides numerous times. Never had anyone asked for a ride and to drive. “Uh — what?”

“It’s not a sexist thing, I swear.” Embry started, holding his hands up. “I just prefer to do the driving.”

I scoffed, folding my arms over my chest. “That definitely sounds like a sexist thing.”

Embry pressed his palm into his forehead and let out a sigh, “I promise it isn’t — just, please?” He asked, dropping his hands at his sides, his eyes weary with a sort of pleading. When I didn’t move, he sighed again petulantly. “There was an accident a few years ago, a chick was driving, we got into an accident — wasn’t her fault or anything, I just feel more comfortable if I’m the one driving.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but couldn’t exactly find the words. What was I supposed to say? Sorry about your luck, but I’m driving? I wasn’t that much of an asshole. My arms dropped and I held the keys out between my thumb and index finger.

“You didn’t need to tell me all of that. I was gonna let you drive.” I lied, trying to shrug nonchalantly and offered a smile. “Are you sure you’re alright to get behind the wheel?”

“Scouts honour.” Embry snatched the keys from my fingers. I turned, moving quickly around to the passenger side of the vehicle, settling into the seat for the first time. It felt a little strange, watching Embry readjust the seat to fit his body — even when the seat went as far back as it could, he still looked too big.

I smiled to myself, reaching forward to flip on the heat while Embry started the engine. My fingers pressed against the heater eagerly, body shivering slightly. “How aren’t you freezing?” I asked, a little harsher than I intended but perhaps that was because I was envious of the obvious fact he sat more comfortably in front of the fire.

“You’re cold?” He asked, reaching with both hands to take mine. Embry rubbed his palms over my fingers, the warmth burning my skin in the most pleasant way. I watched his long fingers wrap around my hands, in awe of how the heat trailed through my veins, causing an immediate eruption of goosebumps to coat my skin.

Instant warmth.

“You’re not?” I asked in awe, slipping my hands away from his once I realized he had yet to let them go.

Embry shrugged, pulling the gear shift into drive before he twisted the wheel and brought the Jeep into a steady roll forward. I looked outside of my window, watching the group around the fire laugh – my eyes momentarily paused on Trent and Leah before I moved my stare forward as the car pulled into the street.

“Cold doesn’t really bother me all too much.” Embry said simply after a moment of consideration, shifting in the driver's seat for a moment before he awkwardly rested his left elbow against the window and leaned to the side, guiding the wheel with his right hand.

“Everyone gets cold.” I argued spitefully, cursing myself when I inherently leaned forward into the heaters again.

The man chuckled, rubbing his lips with his free hand, “Not everyone, honey.”

I cut my eyes towards him, skewing my mouth into a sort of disdain before I laughed once, “Do not,” I started, shaking my head, “call me that ever again.”

“Ever?”

“Ever.”

Embry smiled again, this time more to himself. “Don’t like nicknames?”

I looked at him, turning in my seat a little to get a better look at him. “Not much.”

Even in the dark, with his face barely illuminated by the odd streetlight he looked content and at ease. I wasn’t completely sure how he managed to keep himself so put together, especially given his past. He is twenty-four, I thought to myself. It was something different. Trenton was twenty-five, but he didn’t hold anywhere near the same cautious and controlled face Embry did. Like at any moment, Embry could break or snap; like he needed to keep himself in line from saying or doing something that he wasn’t supposed to. His eyes appeared tired, despite the typically happy demeanour that I recalled in our youth. I wondered if he had slept.

The next few minutes were silent, save for the quiet thrum of the bass in the music and the blast of the heaters. It wasn’t until we turned right past the resort that I realized we were driving towards my house. I leaned back in my seat, eyebrows pulled together as he pulled the Jeep up to the curb and cut the ignition, turning to me with a straight face.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

Embry looked around for a moment, his brows mimicking mine. “I drove you home?” He asked, seeming as confused as I was.

“You asked me for a ride home.” I clarified.

“Yes.”

“Then you asked to drive.”

“Yes.”

I braced my hands on the dashboard, my words coming out slowly. “What happened to getting you home?”

Embry snorted, pulling the handle on the door open as he slipped out of the car. I watched him walk over to my side leisurely in a few large steps, opening the door swiftly with a broad smile. “What?” He asked, his smile faltering just the slightest when he noticed I appeared unwilling to move.

“I’m not sleeping with you.” I whispered, swinging my legs out of the car.

He held up his hands again, raising his eyebrows high as he shook his head quickly. “Woah, I never — I didn’t drive you home to try to sleep with you.”

I shot him a skeptical look, “Right. You drove me home, knowing no one would be here, just for the sake of driving me home?” I pressed, squinting my eyes at him.

“Uh, yeah?” He asked, taking a step away from the door. “You literally live on the edge of town with nothing but forest for miles on end. Sue me for wanting to make sure you got home okay.” He replied, folding his arms across his chest. I could see his expression shift from genuine confusion to annoyance. Admittedly, he looked far more attractive with his face pulled together in frustration and anger.

I stood my ground. “How did you even know where I lived?”

He laughed once. “You’re kidding, right?” Embry asked. When I didn’t respond, he shook his head. “It’s a small town. This is a newer development. Your mom is a nurse and your step-dad is a detective – it wasn't hard to put two and two together.” Embry waved to all of the newly renovated homes behind us. “That, and Travis said something during dinner.”

I squinted at him again. “You really didn’t come here to try to make a pass at me?”

Embry licked his lips and shook his head again, the crease between his brows smoothing. “No. I didn’t.” His hand shot out to help me when I began to climb out of the vehicle, “I actually wanted to ask if you were doing anything tomorrow afternoon.”

“Why?”

He paused, confused that his question wasn’t already clear enough. “I was going to ask if you wanted to come play soccer?” When I looked at him like he had three heads, he shut the car door and turned to walk up my driveway. “Once a week we try to get together and do something together — Billy’s birthday was going to be the thing for the week, but I talked to Jacob about it and he thinks it would be a good idea —”

“Who is ‘we’?” I asked, wrapping my arms around my body.

“The guys — Sam, Quil, Sam, Seth, tweedle dum and tweedle dee — plus some of the girls. Leah, Kim usually, Emily doesn’t like running around so much. And Rachel.”

“And you play soccer?” I asked, more so for clarification that I hadn’t entirely misheard him.

He nodded, “Once a week.” He added.

“And this was your idea?” I asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

Embry froze for a moment, pressing his lips together. “Yeah. I don’t think we all exactly made the greatest impression earlier today,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “I wanted to see you again, I just figured you’d be more comfortable if it were a group setting.”

I blinked a few times, trying to get past the part where he had mentioned he had wanted to see me again. My heart fluttered again, warmth seeping over my cheeks. I appreciated that he was trying to accommodate me, but I wouldn’t let it be known that I wasn’t entirely sure I fit in with that crowd.

“I think soccer would be great.” I smiled, turning to grab the keys from his hand.

“Yeah?” He asked, another smile breaking across his face.

I nodded, placing my hand on the doorknob. “I have to be home at a reasonable hour to do some school stuff, but I wouldn’t totally hate to kill some hours with you guys.” I watched as Embry smiled triumphantly, letting out a sigh when I twisted the knob and opened the door. “Now get home safely, it’s getting late.”

Embry shoved his hands into the pockets of his shorts and waited until the door shut behind me before he turned to talk down the street. I watched from behind the curtains until his figure disappeared into the darkness before I retired to my room, trying to suppress my smile as I dressed myself for bed and collapsed into the bedsheets.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The sound pierced through the silence of the early morning, jolting me from my sleep. I froze in place, wondering if it was worth rolling over to slap snooze on my alarm clock. My memory jogged back to the prior night, unsure of when I had eventually fallen asleep. After sliding into the comfort of my bed, I spent what felt like hours tossing and turning, butterflies erupting in my stomach every so often as a gentle reminder that in fifteen hours time I had the pleasure of gracing a tightly knit group with my presence.

A group I previously felt incredibly left out of.

A group I knew very well I didn’t belong to.

Don’t be a pussy, I scolded myself, pushing up with my palms to flip onto my right side and bring my fingers down on the red button on the clock. The air silenced again, and I relaxed into the pillows, my eyes scanning over shadowed objects of my room as I pulled the white duvet to my chin, shivering against the cool breeze that drifted in through my window. While I previously contemplated rolling over to get another few hours of rest, I heaved a sigh and slipped my feet out from the covers, standing up with more effort than usual. I was sure I slept perfectly fine, but it felt like I hadn’t gotten a single wink.

I grabbed my towel off the back of my chair and made my way into the hall; the soft clatter of dishes and sizzle in a pan indicated that someone was in the kitchen cooking some sort of meal. I poked my head through the crack of Jennie’s bedroom door, smiling when I saw my mother laying on top of the blankets, still fully clothed with the exception of her shoes, which had very obviously been pried off of her feet. I shut the door quickly and made my way to the bathroom, turning the shower on full heat before I stripped down and ran my fingers through my hair in an effort to rid it of deep tangles.

I took my time washing away the restless night; I focused on letting the pressure of the water massage into my shoulders and upper back, straining my neck to the side every so often to encourage the warmth to ease the tension. After what seemed like an eternity, I massaged my scalp with the lavender shampoo and lathered my ends in coconut conditioner, letting the moisturizer seep into my hair as I shaved and cleaned the remainder of my body. I hadn’t realized how hot the shower was until the air grew thick with humidity, and my skin turned bright red. I switched the dial back to cool, washing the remnants from my hair before I shut the water off completely and stepped out of the tub onto the towel just outside of shower.

I was pulled from my autopilot trace when a loud fist banged on the opposite side of the door, followed by a muffled plea. Travis was awake, which meant Travis really needed to use the bathroom. I pulled my towel tightly around my frame, and twisted the lock on the knob.

“Christ, Ains. You’ve been in there for forty fucking minutes.” Travis grumbled, arms folded across his bare chest with his lips pulled into a scowl.

I tried to not laugh at the disarray of his hair, and instead stepped around him to jog back to my bedroom. Once I felt I was suitably dressed for the weather, I wandered into the kitchen in search of whatever leftovers had been made for the morning.

I hummed in a sort of delight when I recognized bacon and fresh coffee, pulling a small plate down from the cabinet. I picked my share off the pan on the stove, and slipped two slices of bread into the toaster for a sandwich.

“Morning,” I jumped a little at the voice, turning around with my hand pressed to my chest.

“Jesus, Trent.” I grumbled, moving towards the Keurig.

“So,” he started, tossing the paper onto the middle of the table, “Embry drove you home, huh?”

I let my head fall back for a brief moment before I shot him a look and turned back to my coffee, “What about it?”

I was positive Trent shrugged. “You never let anyone drive that thing.”

“First of all,” I spun around, placing a hand on my hip. “It’s not a thing , that is the love of my life. Secondly, he has a thing about girls driving.”

Trenton’s face skewered up. “Sounds like a sexist thing.”

“It’s not a sexist thing.” I argued, slathering butter onto my toast. I wasn’t sure why I felt the need to defend Embry - I, too, had believed it to be slightly sexist. I had wanted to ask someone about the accident that Embry was referring to, but also didn’t want to pry when it was really none of my business. Seated in my usual place parallel to Trent, I stacked the bacon carefully in between my toast and took a few sips of my coffee before I started eating.

“Whatever,” Trent mused, leaning forward on his elbows, “just weird, that’s all.”

I rolled my eyes, chewing slowly. The back door closed, followed by the sound of Iyah’s collar shaking as he trotted through the breezeway into the kitchen, his tongue lolled out to the side as he took his place at my feet. I smiled inwardly, lifting my chin to TJ when he entered the kitchen and picked another slice of bacon from the pan.

“Morning, sunshine.” He smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to my wet hair.

“How was your night?” I asked, returning my eyes back to my food.

TJ nodded, “Much better than I expected, honestly.” He ran a tired hand over his face and leaned against the counter. “I was worried your Ma was going to have a hard time feeling at home after everything that’s happened in the last few years, especially with our absence, but it’s like no time has passed at all.”

Good. I remembered Jennie worrying inconsistently about whether or not she needed to walk on eggshells, if it were really even appropriate that the family went to the party at all. Each time, TJ had reminded her that it would be more rude for us to be in town and not show up, which was ultimately the reason why she had reminded us daily to not be late.

“Billy seems to be doing better.” I noted, taking another sip of coffee.

“Yeah, for a while Jennie made it sound like we needed to be prepared for the worst.” Trent added as he leaned back in his chair.

“Jacob was giving him a hard time a few years ago, that’s all.” TJ dismissed, his brown eyes studying us carefully. “Are you working today?” He asked Trent, moving to pull another mug down from the cabinet. Trenton offered an ‘ mhm ’, pushing out of his seat with a groan before he quietly padded down the hall towards his room. “What about you? How’s the reading coming?”

I looked up from my empty plate and shrugged, “So far so good. I have plans to go down to the beach with some people from yesterday.”

My step-father turned to look at me with surprise, the corner of his mouth upturned in a grin. “Is that so?”

I nodded slowly, turning in my chair to face him. “Embry said a few of them were going to be at the beach blowing off some steam, and that Jacob and Rachel would be there, so I figured it’d be a good way to catch up with them.” I shrugged.

“I think it’s a great idea,” TJ smiled, mixing his creamer into the steaming beverage. “Just wear something thicker, it’s supposed to drop pretty low today.”

I looked out of the window in the kitchen, pursing my lips in distaste before I slumped into my chair, defeated. “It’s like summer never even happens.”

TJ laughed sourly, “Yeah. Makes me miss Canada.”

I shot him a look, “As if that was any better. Victoria wasn’t exactly the warmest climate, either.”

“Sure as hell beats this.” For once, I couldn’t disagree.

Several hours of cleaning later, I was staring out of my window at the rolling clouds. It was less gloomy than the day prior, which gave me hope that the rain would let up long enough for me to enjoy my afternoon with Embry and the others. I had yet to tell anyone else in the house I had plans for the day, save for my mother and TJ, whom I had reminded an hour ago when they made an announcement they were heading into Forks for some groceries. From the corner of my eye, I could see a figure walking up my street just alongside the underbrush.

I turned to grab the sweater off my bed, pulling it hastily over my head as I shoved my feet into a pair of shoes; I bolted through the kitchen and down the stairs to the living room, pulling the door open just as Embry had lifted his hand to knock on the wood. He wore nothing but a pair of cut offs, a thin black shirt and a gorgeous smile. I rocked back on my heels and shook my head at him, trying to offer him a look of disapproval.

“How are you not cold?”

“I told you: the cold doesn’t bother me.”

I sighed and slapped my keys into Embry’s waiting hand. “Yeah, and I still call bullshit.” I replied in a low tone as I pulled the door shut behind me, shoving my hands into the front pocket of my hoodie as we walked to the Jeep. “It’s like forty-five degrees, there’s no way this isn’t bothering you.”

Embry opened my door and waited until I was seated and buckled in before he shut the door and jogged to his side. “Don’t worry about me.” Embry reassured me once he was seated next to me on the driver’s side.

“You’re going to get sick.” I pointed out, turning to him with a stern face.

He laughed. “No, I’m not. I don’t get sick.”

I felt my brows raise in challenge, “You know who else said they never got cold and didn’t get sick? Travis. You know what happened to that jackass?”

“I have a feeling you’re gonna tell me.” Embry mused quietly, pulling the Jeep off the curb and onto the street.

“Pneumonia. You should be wearing a sweater, at the very least.”

He shot me a look, carefully watching my face before he reached a hand across the console and grabbed my wrist for the third time in less than twenty-four hours. He was still warm; I locked my fingers around his hand, relishing in the heat that radiated through my palm and into my skin. It was almost as though the warmth washed over me in gentle waves, drawing out any unknown stresses I had. Suddenly, I no longer felt tired or sluggish; in fact, I felt like I could have run a marathon.

“How are you this warm?”

“Nice, isn’t it?” He asked, watching me slip my eyes shut and rest my head against the back of my seat.

I nodded, carefully keeping my lips pressed together in fear I might overstep any boundaries. It was intoxicating, being trapped in such a small space with Embry. I didn’t typically spend time with my brother's friends, let alone do so without telling them about it — especially Trent. But Embry … he smelt like the forest after a rainy day, thick and heavy and wonderful. Paired with the warmth, I felt as though I were in my own personal heaven.

Soon the vehicle was heated, gliding through the forested road with ease, offering a sort of peace I hadn’t realized I longed for. The tension in my neck released, all strain on my shoulders lifted with each passing moment and I found myself leaning into his warmth, still tightly gripping onto his hand. The pulsing of my heart paired with the burning on my skin was distracting my busy mind from the anxiety of spending an entire afternoon with Embry and his friends.

When he pulled into a tiny makeshift parking lot, I tried not to let my disappointment show.

“Sorry, honey, we’re gonna have to walk the rest of the way.” He said solemnly, trying not to smile when he noticed my brows pull in and my lip curl. “What?”

“We discussed this. No nicknames.”

He looked down at his hand. “Are you planning on giving that back?” He teased, letting out a chuckle once I released my grip on his arm and shoved my hands back into my hoodie. “C’mon, they’ve been here for a while.”

I pulled my brows together in confusion, as I saw plenty of other vehicles in the area, but not a single person. I huffed, bracing myself for the cold breeze when Embry moved around the vehicle to open my door. “Why didn’t we come earlier?”

“I work night shifts, remember? I don’t get to crash until like four, sometimes five.” Embry shrugged, shoving his hands into the pockets of his shorts. “I slept in until twelve, went to Em’s to steal some of her leftovers and then walked to your place.”

“You say you stole Emily’s leftovers?”

Embry pushed his shoulders forward as a sort of shrug. “We all do. Sam’s is kinda our hangout space — well, not so much anymore since the baby, but I’m a special exception.” He beamed.

I considered this, keeping my eyes on the ground as he moved over pieces of driftwood lying across the beach. “You’re all really close, aren’t you? Not just hanging out at Billy’s for a birthday close.”

“Everyday close .. pretty much.” He nodded, looking down at me with tight lips. There was something in that sentiment that seemed bittersweet. “We really all only have each other, I consider most of them my brothers.”

“Why?” I asked, cursing under my breath when the wind picked up and bit at my cheeks.

Embry waited until I caught up to his side, helping me up over what appeared to be an entire tree trunk that had fallen over onto the dark sand. The beach on the opposite side was cleared, and was covered in neatly carved logs, blankets and the remainder of Embry’s friends.

“Just how it goes sometimes. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Embry smiled, looking over to where the others ran around, torsos bare, legs easily slipping in between one another’s while trying to maneuver the tattered ball around on the sand.

I suddenly felt very overdressed — even Emily only wore a thin long-sleeve on her arms. Still, I lifted my chin and followed Embry towards the group, all of whom looked up briefly to greet him as he led me towards the blankets.

“Here,” he rummaged through one of the bags, pulling a gray knitted comforter from the bottom, “this one’s mine, you can use it.” My fingers eagerly reached out for the blanket, draping it around my shoulders as I shivered internally. I also tried not to stare as he slipped his shirt over his head.

“You’re all insane.” I grumbled, looking up at his towering frame. “And you’re going to get sick.”

“I don’t get sick.”

I rolled my eyes for what felt like the thousandth time in his presence. “Yeah, you don’t get cold, either.” I rallied, crouching down until I was close enough to the ground to fall back onto my bottom beside Seth. “He’s insane, right?”

Seth was leaning back on his right hand, feeding himself a cheese string with the other; at the sound of my question, he looked up and blinked, swaying his head back and forth as he considered his words. “He just likes to show off.”

“Fuck off.” Embry grumbled, tossing his shirt at the man beside me before he ran off towards the group, greeting Jared with a loud slap on the back. Both men grinned eagerly as the ball headed in their general direction.

“You actually came.” Seth mused, pulling another cheese string out of the bag beside him. He offered it to me, which I bit into immediately.

“I said I would.” I replied, looking past the hustling legs of the boys, watching the crisp waves of the ocean roll up onto the shore, the peaks of the waves higher than usual. “I’m really terrible at soccer, though.”

“You can be on Jacob’s team, then.” Jared called from beside Paul. “They’re already pretty terrible, it’ll make you feel better about your lack of know-how.”

I held my hand up, middle finger extended; Jared shared a quick look with Paul, the pair laughing lightheartedly. I watched as the ball came flying up, smashing into the side of Jared’s face, his smug grin disappearing entirely as he looked forward to Jacob. Seth and Kim cracked the gentle air with loud laughs, causing a small smile to break across my lips. My cousin’s hands flew up in a sort of ‘oops’ gesture, turning to Embry with a knowing smile.

I spent the next hour watching Embry bend and twist his elegant body to keep the ball away from Jacob and another boy whom I later learned was named Brady. I couldn’t help but admire the way the muscles contracted under his darkened skin, rippling with each movement. I thought about the warmth his touch provided, and how in this moment he truly wasn’t bothered by the cold. How completely at ease he appeared. Without realizing, the smile that had formed on my lips remained as I spoke with Collin and Kim about the boys, frequently asking Emily questions about her cooking and how she managed to feed an entire family of approximately thirteen – plus her own.

“Alright, duckie, I’m tagging you in.” Embry breathed, slapping Kim on the knee as he fell onto his back in front of my crossed legs. “What, don't you like the blanket?”

I looked down to my lap; I had removed the blanket from my shoulders simply because the air had grown warmer. With all the laughing and talking, I now felt as though I were sweating under my layers. “I do, I just feel a little warmer.”

Embry smiled, reaching into my lap to steal a slice of my orange. “Good.”

He sat out of the next few rounds, asking me questions regarding my brothers and my courses. I answered all of them with an eagerness which he seemed to appreciate; I explained about how Jennie met TJ when I was three, and how it had been the most epic love I have ever seen. How I never grew up wanting something like Romeo and Juliet, or any sort of princess. I wanted something I could grow from, something that inspired me to become everything I was supposed to be.

I talked about how I swore Travis and Trent could’ve been twins, what with their buzzed hair and heavily tattooed bodies. Trent might’ve been the eldest of us, but Travis was definitely the tallest. I talked about how Trent helped me rebuild the engine on the Jeep a few years ago as a summer project and how in that time I definitely learned to appreciate his company in more ways than just some step-brother that felt obligated to love me. We genuinely put aside the whole related-by-law aspect; we were family, blood or not.

When I spoke about my schooling, I mentioned how I understood why Travis had picked corrections. Wanting to work with at-risk youth myself, I definitely felt like I had a lot in common with him, but also mentioned how I was certain he was getting into his career field for all of the wrong reasons.

At some point, the rest of the guys had come up off the beach shore to lounge on the blankets. It wasn’t long before the air around me grew increasingly warmer, and I relaxed entirely. It was definitely a different feeling, a different atmosphere with my brothers absent. I assumed I would be viewed as their friend’s little sister, but instead I felt as though this were my rightful place.

When the sun began to set behind the rocky tops of the island in the distance, Embry mentioned something about getting me home to finish my reading for the day. Begrudgingly, I said my goodbyes, pulling Jacob into a tight hug with a promise to visit his father again soon. Embry wrapped the blanket back over my shoulders as he led me away from the secluded area of the beach. Once back in the confinement of my Jeep, Embry started the vehicle and I automatically reached for the heater. Embry offered his hand this time, watching me as I hesitated for only a moment before I tightly gripped onto his fingers and hummed in satisfaction as the burning sensation traveled up my palms into my wrists.

“I don’t know how you’re still warm, but I’m definitely not going to complain.” I murmured, letting my eyes fall shut as I rested against my seat comfortably.

The ride away from the beach was mostly silent, save for the blast coming from the heaters. When we finally arrived back on my end of the reservation, he parked the car and spent a few minutes talking to me about how he'd promise to wear more clothing if I promised to come with him again for another afternoon of beach soccer.

“Emily invited me over for breakfast.” I said simply, offering a small smile when I noticed his surprise.

Embry’s eyebrows were lifted high. “Really?”

I nodded, tightening my grip on his hand, “So, let me know when you’re not working and we can go together. It’s not really breakfast if you don’t show up until twelve.” I added, watching him open his mouth and shut it, twice, very quickly.

He laughed once and nodded. “I’ll have to get back to you on that, unfortunately.” Embry sighed, to which I pulled my phone from my back pocket and offered it to him. Once we swapped numbers, I tried to offer him back his blanket. “No, keep it. I don’t want to carry it home.”

Once inside the warmth of my room, I rushed to the window; Embry was waiting diligently at the end of the driveway, looking up to where I stood before he cracked a smile and waved once, then walked backwards towards the street, and took off in a light jog. He disappeared behind the underbrush for the second day in a row.

I collapsed onto my bed, still wrapped in his blanket.

#embry call x oc #embry call #embry call fiction #embry call fanfiction #the twilight wolves #twilight saga #twilight fanfiction #kiowa gordon #twilight #embry call fanfic #jacob black #paul lahote #seth clearwater

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nightswithkookmin · 2 years

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Not this shit again sis, move on leave them to the kraken

People will always find something to hate on and complain about such is life. Care less about such people they can rub off on you.

Tae and JK are actually very good friends with a history. They may not be lovers but the bond was there. Tae knows what makes JK tick just as much as JM or anyone else. Is he as willing to tolerate certain things? Not quite. I mean Hobi had to throw them bananas at him and Hobi is a hufflepuff. Tolerance makes friendships and those two don't take criticisms well from eachother- used to not take criticisms well in my opinion.

There's a lot of entitlement that comes with being an idol. You get used to getting your way among other things especially if you are a Jeon Jungkook the Maknae.

You know how JM was disappointed when Tae couldn't come to him to tell him he was blocking his shine on stage but rather wrote it anonymously? That's one guy open to critiques and who takes criticisms well.

Some people would have construed Tae's complaints to mean he envied them or was jealous Jimin commanded such attention on stage. Such is life.

Forget them let's concentrate on stanning our Vminkook.

On the other topic, it just sounds ridiculous to me because they act like if BTS made a song today there won't be this exact debacle over it. I had my ears full of BTS making English songs blah blah blah IT NEVER STOPS GEEZ!

I'd rather BTS took their sweet sweet time and birthed yet another timeless Album. Im not in a hurry at all. I love permission to dance but if they release yet another song like that I'll pull my spleen out my butt with my bare hands- just saying.

I wish I can relate with all these people complaining bout- what even are they complaining about? I lost track. Too much merch, not enough merch? expensive merch, new music? All of the above?

Chilee.

Who says they will like the new songs BTS about to make even hm? What's the guarantee yall will like it? People shit on blackswan when it came out.

Just because BTS makes something don't mean we will automatically like it or enjoy it- case in point, this whole debacle about the commercialization of BTS. Some are for it some not so much. It's a vicious cycle.

BTS created something. If it had been for free the focus would have been on that. They make run episodes free for everyone and no one complains.

I already got in trouble discussing this with my friends and I don't want to talk about it anymore really. It's only on SNS that when you voice your opinion you are picking a fight but when they do same they are exressing themselves.

Oh wait I have a meme for that

It's the gaslighting in there for me.

Personally, I'm down for a rant. I find them funny seeing how passionate people get over trivial issues and I don't go with a mind set of contributing a different perspective that may assuage them and disabuse them of their thoughts.

Outside rants I assume when anyone comes to me with anything they come to be talked off a ledge. People suck and this is why I prefer to be in my one corner shipping my ship and akekeking to my self.

Ah and no. I'm not really concerned bout the jikook ig saga. Jimin has a habit of commenting and cheering JK on under his posts. Jungkook tell the truth you are not human- yes he's not. He's a beom🤣🤣🤣🤣

Sorry. Lol

He even commented on Tae's post didn't he?

He will comment on JK's if he wants to.

He can and he will- if he wants to.

Jk equally seem like he is putting in effort to mingle and be interactive out there. When he's open and being not only receptive but reciprocal like this it's usually a sign... I might be missing good in there some where 🤣💀

The baits and the thirst traps he sets for Jimin- he's so predictable chilee

Next we know he will be posting and deleting DELCACOMANIA randomly🤕

Jk if you need something from my bias just master the courage and ask him🤣🤣🤣🤣

Emotional vulnerability isn't his strong suit.

I'm not buying all this I'm living my best life ain't bothered a certain hyung isn't all over my IG attitude from him.

That said if JM caves and gets all over his Ig first I'll kick his ass. It's 2022 we loving and respecting ourselves.

But I'm pretty sure they are aware people gone roll their eyes and cuss them out for bringing the gay to IG🤣

Gotta pace themselves before they pick up being the bane in people's existence.

Jk out here saying he misses people chilee 🤣🤣🤣

Please I'm enjoying all of this. BEST SHOW EVER 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

BTS

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

GOLDY

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jennikkugoesoff · 3 years

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Monster

((Hi! I did this drabble to start feeling out some character personalities!))

((cw: Descriptions of Gore/Cannibalism, don’t worry nobody gets hurt, Light Horror, Lemon Demon’s in this, take with that what you will.))

"Keep looking. They've gotta be around here somewhere." Well, this had gone about as well as he'd expected. They were gone. Why had he agreed to help babysit the two most mischievous kids in town, did he really want to see her that much? Then again, this did sort of snowball into something bigger than he'd have liked. BF rolls his eyes and deeply sighs as he closes the bottom cupboards of the abandoned kitchen of the abandoned house. "They aren't here! I don't know where they could've gone, they just up and vanished!" he complains, adjusting his now-askew cap.

"They could've maybe just gone home. They're fairly independent for their age after all, and it's not like we're far from Lila's." GF suggested, peering into the kitchen from the open doorway. "They do know the neighborhood fairly well--" "Oh don't remind me, about once a week they come up to my apartment asking for candy." BF complains as he strains up to try and reach the top cupboards, just a little too short to reach them. "I-I've, had to start buying crappy candy regularly just to get them to fuck off." he sighs with a grunt, stretching his arms to their limits. GF chuckles as she walks up beside him and opens the cabinets for him, peering into them with him. "See, that's the ticket to this. You have to think like they do. Think about being a little kid obsessed with Halloween, where would you be hiding? They're probably snickering somewhere because we aren't coming up with the 'brilliant' hiding spot they have." she proposes, closing the cabinet after taking a good, long look. BF groans and rolls his eyes again, running a hand through his hair as he leans up against the kitchen's counter. "This is stupid. Why did we come here." he complains. "I mean, it was your idea, and I told you it was a bad idea." GF mentions. "Well you- should've- I-" BF defends, getting red in the face, before huffing and relaxing harder against the counter. "...Hey, don't worry. I can tell you're just worried about the kids. I didn't mean to drill you or anything. It'll be ok, we'll find them, ok?" she assures. "I hope so. I just--" BF's sentence was cut off by a sudden scream as he lurches forwards and starts patting himself off frantically, shaking himself off to reveal a roach skittering away after he'd knocked it off of the back of his arm. GF held her breath, but sighed with relief once she had realized what was going on, and, she couldn't help but chuckle a little bit. BF got even redder in the face. "Don't LAUGH at me!" he shouted. "What if that had been you?!" he whined angrily, his voice pitching and cracking. GF only laughed a bit harder. "I-, I mean...." she managed to get out. "I--" she tried to get out again, giggling it off. "I'm sorry, just, with how you screamed, I would've thought you'd seen a monster, and just--" CRUNCH.

The two young adults pause, and look off towards the source of the sound. "What was that?" BF asked. "...It, sounded kinda like-" CRUNCH. By this time, the gentle rain outside had turned harsh, the wind blowing scraped the overgrown branches against the windows. "...U-uh, kids?..." BF called out into the hallway where the sound had come from. ... Only silence. "Welp. I've heard enough, let's go." BF said, walking away. "Hold it there, sag-pants. You're not going anywhere until we find the kids." GF declines, grabbing her boyfriend by the back of his shirt and pulling him back. "Did you not hear that fucking inhuman crunch just now? It's probably EATEN the kids already!" he complained. "That's probably what we're hearing, the critch-crunch of their bones! Now let's not be horror movie white people and let's GO!--" he protests, trying to walk away again. "And what are we gonna tell Lila?" GF asks. "Oh, sorry, we left the kids in an abandoned house because we heard crunchy sounds that may or may not be a stranger, Skid and Pump are probably dead but at least we're still here!" she mocks with a faux-deep voice. "That ain't no stranger! That's a fucking monster!" BF protests, pointing off towards the living room. "Ok, look. If you're gonna be this much of a pussy bitch about it, I'll go and find the kids. You stay here in the living room." GF bites back, in a stern tone as she walks off. "Wait!--" BF says, stepping out into the living room, but it was too late. She'd already left. BF sighs to himself as she leaves. Well, this was a disaster. He'd put kids in danger and made GF mad at him. Or at least, it seemed that way. He hung his shoulders and put his hand on his forehead. He'd gone from starting to regret this to full on just regretting it. They were gonna be so disappointed in him, and even worse, they may have just proven how irresponsible they really were by hurting someone else's kids. Well, actually, someone else's kid and also another someone else's kid, but in a way, that was even worse. Actually no, scratch that, it was worse. Maybe though, maybe this wouldn't be so bad. Maybe they were just heated in the moment and everything would be ok. Maybe she'd come back with the kids in just a minute. ...Yeah! Maybe he could explain all this. Explain himself. It'd be the right thing to do after all. He owed her an apology anyway after all. That was sort of a shitty little bout he had just now-- drip. Something hits BF on the shoulder. It felt like a rain drop, but it was warm. Surely it was just the pipes, right? This... house was like a bajillion years old, please just let it be the pipes. BF looks up slowly, white in the face. ... That's not a pipe. BF's eyes meet with another pair. These are cetainly not human eyes though, instead, they were large, bulbous and shining in the dark, but had large, void-like pupils that stared right through the human. BF doesn't scream. He doesn't move, he's frozen to his spot, all that escaped him is a broken breath of fear. The pair of eyes, keeping focus on him, moves slowly and methodically to the nearest wall, before a black, clawed hand begins pulling the shape of the figure down the wall. The head the eyes were socketed into was elongated, wrinkled and bright yellow, like a lemon. ...Actually, it was a lemon. Another clawed hand revealed that the ghastly form was crawling down the wall, like a spider, a disgusting chittering sound coming from it as it moved, although it was unclear whether it was making the sound or just it moving was. BF just began to sweat more and more as more of this horrible thing came into view. It had a long, skeletal body, yet velvety, jet-black skin that just barely draped across it's form, it's joints audibly popping and cracking as it moved. "Whaaat the... fuu...." the human trails, as this thing stood up. Well, kind of. It was too tall to stand at it's full height in the room, so instead, it bent over where it reached the ceiling. Most disturbing of all though. It could speak. And it does, as it leers down at him, smiling wide to reveal a mouth full of large, slightly yellowed human teeth that sat crooked in it's dark maw. "Well, well, well, what have we got here?" it asks, in a gentle, uncomfortably soothing male voice. "You're a long ways from home, aren't you, little human?" he- it, said. "W-what-- who, are... you?..." BF stumbled, taking several steps back as this thing slinked up to him like a snake, pinning him back against the wall. "Me?" the figure asked, almost curiously. "I go by a few different ones." he explained, drawing away from him. "The thing that goes bump in the night, the monster underneath your bed, or in your closet, or under the stairs, the thing from which you run, the something wicked this way comes... but most people, you know what they call me?" he asks. "W-what?" Then, the creature lets out a very human scream. A scream of pain, a scream of death, and dread. Then, he chuckles. "It's an affectionate nickname, I think." he clarifies, the disparity between the horrible shrieking and his paradoxically comforting voice uncanny. "But, let's not worry about formalities, and let's get down to brass tax." "You're a human, and you're in my territory, and that means you're game." he explains. "Game?..." BF queries. "Game, to hunt." the creature clarifies, with a chuckle. "And it's such good timing too, I love humans, my favorite part is the skin, and how at just the right temperature, it so easily peels from your-" But ever-so abruptly, the creature's dialogue was interrupted by the sound of heels on wooden stairs. "Hey! BF! I just got a call from Lila, the kids did go home! Apparently they got distracted for a while and just, left? We can finally get out of this-" GF cuts in, as she stops about halfway down the stairs. "Oh. Great. It's you." she sighs, rolling her eyes. "I should've known you'd be here, you creep." she says, taking several paces down the stairs and walking around to their sides, pulling BF out of the corner and close to her. "Y-you know this thing?" BF asked, clutching his girlfriend close. "Unfortunately." she adds. "Ohh, ohohoho... Gwen, you didn't tell me you had a little boyfriend." the monster coos, as he reaches out and draws a finger underneath BF's chin, but the hand is quickly slapped away by GF. "Don't touch him." she warns. "You couldn't stop me, even if you wanted to." he brings up, looking sly, as he slinks away from the pair. "Oh what to do with you two..." he says. "I've always wanted a two course meal..." he almost, whispers, drooling as a huge, rancid slab of meat lolls from his mouth and he licks his lips, tracing across one of his bulbous eyes like a lizard. "Yeah, whatever, you ain't shit." GF fires back. "Don't tempt him..." BF frantically whispers back. "He's fine. He won't do anything, just keep him talking, it'll get his guard down. He thinks we're weaker than him. No matter what he says, just, don't be afraid, ok?" she whispers back. "'Ain't shit'?" the monster asks, almost offended, and holding his hand up to his mouth, before chuckling. "I think you'll find I'm quite the connoisseur of... heh, alternative cuisine." he says, bending down at the pair, his breath stinking of the same rancid meat that his tongue appeared to be... and vague hints of citrus. "Hm, what to do is the question though, I mean, your skulls would simply make lovely little soup bowls, from which to drink your blood..." he said. "Or.. hm, your bones would make excellent broth, wouldn't they?" he asks. "Light, sippable... although I must confess, your little boyfriend's torso would make an excellent roast, stuffed with your guts, left to steep in the oven for five hours... just, thinking about that smell.." he describes, drooling heavily. BF was shaking like a leaf, clutching his girlfriend tightly. "Aren't you scared?!" he hiss-whispers to her. "Watch this." she says, with a wink and a smile, as she urges him off of her, and she walks away. "Or, maybe I could put you both on different racks of the oven... serve you both up on silver platters, and turn your teeth into- wait, where are you going?" A couple seconds of awkward silence follows as GF walks back into the kitchen, and pulls something out of the drawer. "Hey, you know what you should serve up with a couple of golden-brown human roasts?" she asks. "A nice, ice-cold glass of... lemonade." she says, as she hold out her hand to reveal a hand-juicer. The monster's tune then changes completely, his huge eyes widen even more and his pupils shrink as he sharply gasps, scuttling into the corner of the living room, forcing himself into the corner, his disproportionate bones seeming to almost disjoint as he takes on some unnatural-looking positioning to mash himself further into the corner. "H-hey now! T-there's no need for that! I-... h-heh, heh, c-c'mon now, I was just kidding! H-he, he gets it, don'tcha?" the monster defends, gesturing to BF as he tries to cover his ass as he slinks back. "Ohh, but weren't you just saying you should turn us into roasts? C'mon, wouldn't a nice thick lemon-rum glaze go nice with that?" GF asks, stepping forwards. "N-no! No! It wouldn't! You've got the flavors all mixed up! Y-you animals! Stay back!" he warns, thick beads of light yellow sweat falling from his face as his wide smile contorts into a wide frown. "I-I I, taste terrible! I'm sour! I'll make your lips pucker!" he fires. BF, having been impressed by all this, decides to step in himself, walking up and taking the juicer. "Oh but it'd be so nice though! Perhaps afterwards we could use the leftovers to make some tasty lemon squares?... Or maybe some lemon meringue pie?" he suggested, smiling devilishly as he watched the monster's face get increasingly horrified. The now quivering-monster shrieks in despair. "Y-you better... p-put that thing down right now, y-you, you barbarians!" he threatens, his bloodshot eyes going completely red as he begins stalking up towards them, growling. "Oh it's so satisfying, the sound that a halved lemon makes... when you squeeze it." BF croons, pretending to juice a lemon, and stepping forward. That was it for the monster, he couldn't take it anymore, so off he went, quick as a flash, whimpering like a dog as he scuttles away, climbing up the wall, breaking one of the windows and crawling through it like a distressed house centipede. BF stands there, feeling quite pleased with himself as he drops the juicer. GF giggles and claps. "Nice job, Hannibal. Let's get out of here before he realizes he's several feet taller than us." she warns. "Yeah. I think I've had my fill of spooks for one day too." BF agrees, as they head toward the front door, hand-in-hand.

#my work #Friday Night Funkin'#Friday Night Funkin #fnf bf #fnf gf #fnf lemon demon #sm skid and pump #Drabble #Fanfic

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angst-fairygodmother · 3 years

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Widower (A Dad!Diego/The Umbrella Academy Fic)

A/N: I couldn’t stop thinking about it. So I am putting it out into the universe. But not actually making it canon (when did the Dad!Diego fics develop a canon? What is life?) so feel free to just pretend it never happened. I just needed to be angsty. Word Count: 1270 Content Warnings: Major Character Death; poorly handled grief; a few well placed swears

It had been a long time since he’d worn black. Ever since Y/N came into his life, he hadn’t felt like he needed it. He could be freer, he could let color in, he could be happy, content.

Eugene squirmed on his lap. The little boy was too young to know what was going on, just that he was uncomfortable in his itchy black baby-sized suit and that he was bored. Maggie knew a little better, in that she sensed that something was wrong, and that he was sad and squirming or complaining were the wrong thing to do. So she sat dutifully beside her father and brother on the hardback chairs, legs swinging slightly, and tried her hardest to be good.

“Hey Diego,” Allison murmured, suddenly appearing in the row behind him, leaning forward to talk softly to her brother, a tenderness between them that wasn’t usually there. “Do you want me to take the kids tonight, give you a little time to...deal with things by yourself?”

He turned to look back at his sister, so tired of being sad that his expression was completely blank, lifeless behind the eyes.

“T-t-t-t-t-that’s…” he closed his eyes, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I c-c-c-an’t.”

His stutter hadn’t been this bad since they were just young kids, since he had their father scolding him several times a day for not living up to an impossible standard. Her frown deepened.

“Diego, what do you mean you can't? It wouldn’t be an imposition, and…”

He shook his head. “N-no. If I...i-if th-they’r-re n-not…” his voice dropped to a mumble unable to force his mouth to make sounds at full volume.

“Never s-s-see th-e-em-m ag-g-g-ain,” she managed to catch, and immediately she wrapped her arms around him from their awkward position. Of course after everything that he’d been through this past week that would be his fear. She felt guilty that she hadn’t thought of it right away.

“Oh Diego,” she sighed. “They’ll be alright, I’ll make sure of it. Or I can take them to the Academy, have everyone there to watch out for them. But I understand. As a parent, your kids mean the world to you. We could have a ‘sleepover’ at your place? Me and Claire, and maybe the others?”

He shook his head and opened his mouth to tell her that he’d be okay. But he knew that was a lie. He didn’t think he’d ever be okay again. But all the old habits Y/N had helped him break - the determination that he had to do everything alone and the certainty that he wasn’t allowed to show how he was feeling - came crashing back down around him like prison bars.

“No,” he snapped, pulling away from her comforting touch. “I’ll h-handle it.”

“If you change your mind…”

“I’m fine, Allison.”

“Daddy,” Maggie asked him a few mornings later at breakfast. “W-where’s Mom-my?”

His eyes met her confused and pleading ones, the beat of his heart catching with the familiar skips of her stutter, and something inside him snapped. He dropped to his knees, face buried in his hands.

“Daddy?” she asked, voice as full of concern as a four-year-old’s could be.

But in that moment, tumbling head over heels, around and around, in the black hole of his despair, he could no longer hear his daughter. He couldn’t feel it when her little hand tugged at his shirt. Because it required a person to do those things, and he wasn’t anymore. He was nothing but his grief.

“Diego,” a voice cut through his fugue. He couldn’t remember when he stopped crying, giving in to emptiness instead. There was nothing special about the voice, but something tickled in his mind that said it wasn’t supposed to be there. “Diego, get up.”

He thought he might have shook his head.

“Diego, please,” the voice asked, begged. “Your children need you.”

Klaus. It was Klaus talking to him. What was he doing here? How did he get into his house? Where had he been at the fucking funeral?

He sat up and shoved at the hands on his shoulders, pushing Klaus away from him with a snarl, like a feral animal, full of hate and pain and fear and nothing somehow all at once.

“Okay. Calm down,” he couldn’t remember the last time he had heard Klaus sound so level. Because of course he wasn’t phased. It wasn’t his wife, the love of his life lying in a coffin under a mound of fresh dirt.

“What do you want Klaus?” he snapped, choosing anger over the pain or the numbness he had been cycling through.

“Maggie called me. She’s very hard to understand over the phone. But she said you wouldn’t get up and asked me to come fix it.”

“You can’t. You can’t fix this. Nobody can.” His voice started as a growl and faded to a sigh.

“I know that, Diego. But my niece, your daughter, called and she was scared and what else was I supposed to do? Five’s here too, my chauffeur, entertaining the Squirt and the Bean so I could talk to you.”

“Like you actually care.”

“What?! Of course I care. You’re family, all of you. Including Y/N.”

“Then why didn’t you bother to come to the funeral?”

“I don’t mix well with funeral homes or graveyards. I...just couldn’t.”

Diego frowned, wanting to snap at his brother that he should have been there anyway, but knowing that it wouldn’t have been what she wanted. Y/N had understood Klaus’s fears and nightmares almost instinctively and done everything she could to help him with them. She wouldn’t have wanted him torture himself on her account, not when she wasn’t really there anymore. So he pulled back, shifted into a seated position on the floor, sitting across from Klaus and staring off into the distance.

“Have you...seen her?” he asked after a long while, voice flat.

Klaus shook his head regretfully. “Not yet. I can try again to conjure her, for you right now, if you want?”

Diego thought about it, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. Was that what he wanted? In that moment?

“No. Just, if you do find her or however it works, tell her…” he took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to gather the words within him.

“A-ask her why she le-ft,” he blurted out. “Why she a-bb-bandoned us. I c-c-c-an’t do this al-l-lone without her.”

Another sob shook his body and he collapsed like a puppet with its strings suddenly cut. Klaus was quick to catch him, holding his brother up.

“If she had the choice, I’m sure Y/N would have stayed here, for you. But she couldn’t. I know it’s not fair and sucks,” he sighed, thinking of Dave briefly before returning his focus to the matter at hand.

“You’re not alone,” he continued sagely. “I know it’s not the same as her, but you have all of us, if you’d just stop being so goddamn stubborn and let us help you. Team Zero and all that shit or whatever.”

When Diego looked up, his view danced past Klaus to Five in the doorway, Eugene asleep on his shoulder, tiny fist balled in the lapel of Five’s jacket (he still wore that goddamn uniform so often and it was weird, though Y/N had said it made sense, a sense of identity wrapped in blue linen).

“We’re all here for you,” the oldest Hargreeves assured. “And for them.” He nodded his head toward his nephew with a faint, fond smile. “No matter what.”

#Sorry not sorry #ANGST #I am the Angst Fairy Godmother #I am an emotional masochist #Delight and Tremble Before Me #I was just going to write it and then let it go but I'm really proud of how it came out #except maybe the italics abuse #Dad!Diego fic #Diego Hargreeves x reader #The Umbrella Academy fic

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doginthecorner · 3 years

Note

🍽 (from Carol)

SEND 🍽 TO COOK A MEAL WITH MY MUSE

Daryl reached for the cast iron skillet hanging above the stove and sets it over the flame, then reaches up to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

"I'll do the bacon." He mutters, shuffling over to the fridge and pulling it open.

"Sure." Carol offers a smile and reaches past him for the milk. "I'll start the pancakes."

"Kids up yet?" Daryl asks, dropping a few pieces of bacon into the with a sizzle.

"Lydia is." Carol nods, taking the flour from the pantry. "I don't think she slept much last night."

"Tha' cough?" Daryl mutters.

"Probably." Carol nods. "RJ will probably be up soon but Judith will need to be drug up again."

"Wha's up with tha' kid?" Daryl mutters, reaching for a fork to turn the bacon. "She's been sleepin' late an' moody as hell lately."

"She's 11 Daryl." Carol cracks a few eggs into a bowl. "She's growing up, that's just part of being a teenage girl." She shrugs and drops the egg shells into the trash.

"She ain' a teenager." Daryl flips the bacon and scowls.

"She's close enough." Carol says. "She's a little girl with big feelings, just give her some time. Besides," She chuckles, coming over and wrapping her arms around his waist. "RJ still likes you."

"Least that makes one of the kids." Daryl mutters.

"Maybe we'd like you if you weren't so mushy." The gruff voice of Lydia says as she enters the kitchen. She climbs on to a stool and coughs into her hands.

"Oh shush." Carol rolls her eyes turning to face Lydia. "I'm making you some tea for that cough"

"Your pancakes are burning." Lydia scowled.

"An' yer gonna eat 'em." Daryl mutters. "You ain never complained about food."

"Neither do you." Lydia retorts.

"Be quite you two." Carol says putting the kettle on a free burner. Daryl offers an exaggerated scowl, but he can't hold it for long, morning's like this are a rare treat, one he didn't think he'd get in his life, and he was going to savor it.

#wexarethewalkingxdead #v; tbd

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notgonnarememberthis · 3 years

Text

find your way (back to me) - chapter ten

God, I have been SO EXCITED for this chapter. BIG praise to Em who helped me get through little hooks and finding Martin’s voice. Honestly they are crazy talented and have such a grasp for his tone and movements they’re such a big help to me and I love my best friend so damn much ok.

Anyways!! I wanted to send this out after tonight’s ep but I have yet to watch it. I was out with my sister helping her get over a sad spell so I unfortunately missed it live and won’t be able to watch until tomorrow so I would love to avoid spoilers. Thank y’all so much!! Hope y’all enjoy the update!

Gil opens the door to the morgue, Edrisa looks up from the body with a small nod but her normal smile isn’t quite there. Malcolm stands beside her shifting from side to side. He raises an eyebrow but says nothing. JT lingers in the corner of the room, jaw set. “Ready?”

This presentation feels heavier than most. It doesn’t help either he or Malcolm that they both had to reluctantly leave the apartment so early in the morning. Ainsley remained behind, having called in a few favors to work from his place at least until the case was solved. Still, he worries. They both do.

“Yes,” Edrisa breathes, settling into the motions. “Cause of death was the slit throat. There were traces of tranquilizer in the victim, that might be how he was transferred from place to place. The state of the body suggests he’s been dead for a day.”

“He was alive an entire week. Our killer waited. He waited until mother was out of the hospital.” He’s already agitated, it’s not good.

“He wasn’t killed in Mrs. Whitly’s home. He was transported post mortem.”

“We can assume our killer has completely unraveled. This kill goes completely off M.O.”

“He’s desperate.” Gil agrees.

“Has she remembered anything yet?” Gil turns to where JT is standing.

“No.” Malcolm sighs, “She’s going through dissociative amnesia. Ainsley did after…” He gestures, it’s enough for them to understand. “Honestly, I hope she doesn’t.”

“You do?” The question isn’t meant as a harm but he sees Malcolm flinch. There’s a flash of guilt on JT’s face but Malcolm waves him off before he can apologize.

“From an investigative standing? I would. It would certainly help narrow it down.” He shakes his head, like trying to rid of a thought that was too much even for him. “But after Ainsley remembered? She completely shut down. She looked right past us and it tore my mother up.” Gil remembers that. The blank stare lasted for hours before she finally broke down. It was Jessica who finally got her out of it, playing with her hair and singing her a lullaby. “I don’t want that for her.”

Edrisa places a gentle hand on his shoulder, and to Malcolm’s credit rather than flinching away he subtly leans into the touch.

“Did we find out any more about Freddy?” The question seems to bring a new heaviness to the room. Edrisa and Malcolm share a look, one that tells they know something that hasn’t been spoken quite yet.

“We found an ID card on the inside of his jacket.” Edrisa grabs a baggie with the ID badge inside passing it to Gil. “He was a student volunteer at Claremont Psychiatric.”

“Claremont? You think-”

“We don’t know if he has any connection to the surgeon.” Malcolm’s eyes fall to the body. “But I’ve seen him around. It was only in passing but he was nice. Always smiled when I passed.”

“Does Jess know?”

“No. But it gets worse.”

“Worse?” Malcolm bobs his head before straightening, trying to summon every ounce of professionalism he has to ignore the warring feelings.

“Freddy’s full name is Francisco Garcia. When mom was delivering her statement to the police she said Freddy helped tie the tourniquet on her leg. That his mom is a trauma surgeon.” Gil’s face sinks, coming to the same conclusion. Jessica’s doctor that had been helping in the investigation, Dr. Garcia. “Agent Swanson is on her way to the hospital to confirm our findings. But we’re almost certain it’s Dr. Garcia’s son.”

“Did she know he was missing?”

“My guess? No. He was a med student and a volunteer. He probably went weeks at a time without checking in.” Gil runs a hand through his beard. Even thinking about telling Jessica was ripping him apart. She’d connected well with her doctor, it helped that she was a friendly woman. But Jessica will want to help with funeral expenses, help the family financially for whatever they need. There’s no way he can get past telling her.

A ringtone startles them out of the somber silence. Malcolm reaches into his pocket, eyebrows furrowing when he reads the caller ID. “Ains?” His anxious movements stop as his eyes meet Gil’s “What’s wrong?” He can barely make out the sound of crying coming from the phone “What do you mean she’s gone?” Gil sucks in a breath. Gone could mean too many things. “It’s ok. Is her phone still there?” He waits with a fearful beat. “That’s good. She might have left on her own. I’m going to go see if I can track her phone. Have Dani drive you here and we’ll find her ok?”

Malcolm hangs up and he looks ready to throw something. It’s Edrisa who slips the phone out of his hand before he decides to do just that. He clenches his hand taking a deep breath before speaking.

“My mother is gone.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jessica’s eyes open to the sound of her phone chiming followed shortly by the sound of the front door shutting. From the light pouring into the bedroom she would guess its at least the afternoon. Sleeping in Gil’s bed made it easier to chase away the nightmares and if she did wake up his presence was enough to soothe her. Listening to his slow breathing lulled her back to sleep eventually, too exhausted for another nightmare.

She picks up her phone, squinting as the light hits her face.

Work emergency. Will be back soon, order takeout and have them give it to George.

So it was Ainsley she heard leaving. She sits up carefully pulling her hair up out of her face. Her phone chimes again

And don’t leave!!

She bites her tongue staring at her bags in the corner of the room. Gil and Malcolm carried all that she’d need for the stay for at least a week. The memories of last night hang over her head precariously, like a rope ready to snap.

She takes her medicine with the glass of water on the nightstand.

Her eyes fall on the shirt from last night. Gil had her change when they arrived and, truthfully, it helped her feel lighter. Yet the note in the pocket still weighs on the back of her mind. There was only one possible way he’d know how she took her tea. It was such a small detail even Malcolm, at his age, wouldn’t remember much less Ainsley. She’d stopped drinking tea for a while after his arrest. It took her years before she found a blend she liked again.

Nobody should know that.

And yet.

Jessica rubs her eyes, dread threatening to push her down into the covers where it was safe and warm again. The thoughts taste foul as she files through. She needs to go see Martin, he’s the only one with the answers. If Gil knew there would be no chance he’d let her go anywhere near Claremont, for perfectly good reasons. Hell, if Malcolm and Ainsley knew they wouldn’t let her out of her sight. Ainsley will only be gone for a short bit, if her texts are accurate.

Now is her only chance.

Getting dressed takes slower than she’s happy with. The pull makes her breath catch in her throat more than a few times. She eyes the wheelchair next to the bed for a moment. She knows the doctor’s order, but around Martin showing weakness at all is a loss. It gives him control of the conversation.

Giving him any sort of control is the last thing she wanted.

She gathers herself, dressed as she normally would. She uses makeup to cover what she can. However some of the scrapes are still so sore that she doesn’t bother. She grabs the note, giving herself a few beats to change her mind and stay. Finally, when she deems herself ready she sweeps out into the living room, opening the front door doing her best annoyed mother tone.

Her eyes settle on the officer patrolling, ready to put on the performance of her life. “Will you drive me to Claremont? My son insists that I shouldn’t be left alone and he’s visiting his father.”

“Sure thing Mrs. Whitly.” The officer, George, grins at her.

“Wonderful.”

The ride there is silent. She practices what she will say in her head over and over. Not that any amount of practice will prepare her to speak to Martin again. It only gets worse as she’s escorted through the halls. She can feel his presence long before she reaches his cell; it’s choking, a cavern that threatens to swallow her and her entire family whole.

“Jessica!” He gasps as she steps in, like he hadn’t known she’d be coming. The shock doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Mr. David didn’t mention you’d be visiting today. I’ve got to say, you’ve looked better.” He gestures vaguely, talking about the scratches on her that she couldn’t cover with makeup. She’s just thankful that she could cover the bruises. “I thought for sure that our children, Malcolm especially, would have you on lockdown. Though, I suppose that never stopped you before.”

She bites the remark that’s on the tip of her tongue. If she wants answers she’ll have to appeal to him. “Malcolm is on the case, Ainsley had some kind work emergency and had to leave.”

He tuts, tilting his head. “Sneaking out? Giving them a taste of their own medicine, huh?” He straightens, narrowing his eyes oh so slightly. “Now don’t tell me you visited just to chat. Not that I’m complaining but come on, I would have put on my good cardigan.”

“No.” He purses his lips at her rejection, but doesn’t interrupt. “Last night there was a body in the kitchen-”

“Someone broke into our home?” My home. She aches for the rebuttal but the answers are too important and she doesn’t have enough time before Ainsley realizes she isn’t there. She will text Malcolm and he’ll no doubt pull every resource he has to find her here, of all places. So she sets her jaw.

“There was a note on my nightstand when I woke up next to a cup of tea that said, just how you like it.” His brows furrow before an understanding washes over him. She thinks, just for a moment.

“Classic stalker behavior.” He shrugs. “Who knows how long he’s been watching you.” She swallows, the thought making her heart freeze. His aloof behavior is betrayed by the years of visits between him and their son. He knows. “And where was the Lieutenant?”

The question scratches her world to a deadly halt. All of the anger at what had happened; the days she was trapped, the injustice of Freddy’s death, her family being threatened. All of it topples over with the words he meant as a knife to her most cherished relationship other than her children.

“Wouldn’t he be there to protect you?”

“Malcolm was.” Darkness washes over him and she watches all the fake humanity drain from his eyes. Barely contained rage makes the room feel colder. She doesn’t allow herself the step backwards that would make her feel more comfortable. “Malcolm was asleep in the chair in the corner of the room.”

“Malcolm was there?”

“Of course he was there! You know Malcolm! He wouldn’t fucking leave let alone sleep in a different room!” She lets out a shuddering breath. “He wouldn’t- he can’t-” Her words jumble and anger is making her shake painfully. Her core aches and she is almost certain if she doesn’t calm down she’ll accidentally pull stitches. “He was in my home. He was in the goddamn kitchen. He was in my room where we were sleeping!” Martin tilts his head, it’s the disapproving tilt. One that she’s seen hundreds of times when a curse slipped out in front of Malcolm or Ainsley when they were so young. He always hated when she cussed. “Malcolm, god he was so tired he didn’t even stir when I woke up.” She can feel the tears coming down but she’s hopeless to stop them now. She’s in an absolute spiral. “God knows how long he was there. How many times he walked past Malcolm. It could’ve been Malcolm.”

The last words are an almost incoherent sob. She had come here, every intention of holding her ground. And here she is having a fucking panic attack in front of her serial killer ex husband. A bitter laugh escapes her.

“It could’ve been Malcolm.” She repeats. “And every time I remember I don’t see that poor boy’s face. I see Malcolm’s. Our son.”

A hand reaches out stroking the tears from her cheek. It takes her far too long to connect the touch to Martin. “Jessie-”

She rips herself away the second her mind connects the dots. The sudden movement causes a new wave of pain. She curses again leaning against the furthest wall to regain her self control. “Stop!” She shouts, getting the attention of Mr. David. “Stop acting like you fucking care.” It hurts too much. She feels like she’s going to stop breathing at any second. When he looks at her with that much sympathy it’s too much. It reminds her of being hunched in the bathroom, morning sickness taking a toll on her. He stayed with her, holding her hair. That sympathy is not only fake, it’s toxic. Another way to gain control.

“That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” She snaps. “You know. You know who it is and you let us be hurt by him. What did you do Martin? What the fuck did you do?” The room holds impossibly still for what feels like an eternity. He heaves a sigh, defeated.

“Lieutenant Arroyo wasn’t the first to catch me.” The words stop her in her tracks. She watches him warily, not trusting a single word he says. “I never met him, but I received a call, a year or two before.” Her stomach sinks, the year or two before was when she’d noticed his growing absence. “He had connected me to a missing woman, able to pin me at her last seen location.” She swallows, realizing he isn’t moving. No shifting head, wild gesturing movements. It’s the truth. “He wanted money.”

“Oh god.”

“I told you I was funding a project at the hospital. Every month I would send him money for his silence.” She holds her breath. “When I got arrested the money stopped, but the calls didn’t.”

“What.”

“He would threaten Malcolm and Ainsley. He was a belligerent drunk. From what I could gather after he lost that money he lost everything, wife divorced him and took the kids. He drank to forget.” He twists his shoulders back, fixing his posture. “I helped him again. Got him into rehab. From what I could tell, he got his life back together.”

“And became a serial killer.”

“Well not all of us can be perfect, Jessie.” He continues with a shrug, “Never got the wife back but found his faith in religion. Not to keen on it myself but to each their own.”

“Where is he now?”

“From last I heard? He got his job back.”

Just like that the world stops spinning. Her pain makes way for horrific clarity. The black clothes with the covered badges. Malcolm and Gil’s frustration over his ability to get in and out of the park despite there being patrols all over the city. How he got into her home without alerting anyone. “He’s a cop.”

“Yes.”

Anxiety clamps down on her stomach. The man has been right there all along. None of them had even suspected. Hell, it could’ve been the man that drove her here. She suddenly, ironically feels herself not wanting to leave. She can’t seem to move. Her feet feel too heavy. Her mind and body aching from overexertion.

“Jessica?” She hears Martin call to her but she feels too far away to respond. Only the wall behind her is holding her up. “Jessie.” The annoyance laced in his tone exacerbated as she hears the door to the hallway slide open. “Jess!” Panic.

The door opens beside her and Malcolm and Ainsley step in, looking equally alarmed and agitated. Their eyes fall on her, and she sees the color strip from their faces. Malcolm is on her in a second, hands holding her up by her elbows. She must look too pale because he looks like he’s ready for her to faint.

Ainsley, on the other hand, whips around to Martin, eyes accusatory. “What the fuck did you do to her?” She should stop her, a part of her thinks. Yet she still doesn’t move. It’s Mr. David who grabs Ainsley by the middle pulling her back over the red line towards safety. Whether it’s her own or Martin’s she’s not entirely sure.

“Mom. Hey, mom. Look at me.” She does. “We gotta go. Ok?” No, they can’t. It’s not safe. How did they get here? “Gil’s waiting outside. They wouldn’t let him in, but he’s going to take us back.” She relaxes a little. She needs to warn them about the cop. She needs to. But she feels lightheaded and her heels are far too unstable. “I got you, it’s ok.” And he smiles, that gentle smile when he swears that everything will be alright. “Ains, come on.”

She’s braced on both sides by her kids as she walks out with Martin shouting behind them.

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