#if it counts me and my cousin used to play with like loom things that she made and there were 3 marsmellows (MARSH MEL AND OW (pronouced o) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tieronecrush · 10 months

Text

hot & heavy

chapter nine: jesus christ 2005 god bless america

neighbor!joel x f!reader

series masterlist

series rating: E (18+ MDNI)

series summary:

over the course of three summers, joel miller becomes woven into your life. the first summer is spent falling for him; nannying his daughter and sneaking around with him in a burning love affair. you know how you feel about joel, he isn’t so sure about how it all is gonna work. the second summer is brief. a month spent at home after graduation and before you move to boston for your dream job. one look at you, one time hearing your voice, and joel is hooked again. he pines over you for that month, but you think — how is long distance of over a thousand miles going to work for a single dad? the third summer, you return home burnt out and pride bruised from your post-grad life. you need time to feel at home again, like your complete self, so you’ve come back home with no return ticket booked. it’s only a matter of time before joel seeks you out, slowly spending more time with you. without an inevitable end to the summer looming over you both, what chances are you willing to take?

word count: 9.5k

warnings: NO OUTBREAK (don’t need to worry about the mushies), no use of y/n, inexperienced reader, age gap (joel is 30/31, reader is 22), canon-divergent (sarah is 7 y/o), nanny au, pet names (sweetheart, darling, sweet girl, mariposa, etc.), polite southern manners, feeling familial and self-pressure, undefined relationship, small use of spanish cause joel is latino, pining joel, fingering, hand-job, dirty talkkk king joel miller, soft soft soft joel, sprinkle of possessive joel, Big Feelings, crying, mentions of depression diagnosis and symptoms, struggling with self, discussion of co-parenting, signing away parental rights, effects of that situation on children, major guilt form both of 'em, this chapter has some heavier angst than before!

a/n: they're baaaaaaack <333 my babies! it's 2005 and summer #3 is officially underway and i can't wait to share it with you all. thank you so very much to the bestie/cousin/sister wife/sweet, sweet gf @northernbluess for beta-reading this chapter, and for shouting about these two with me. enjoy y'all x

You can count on your two hands the number of times you’ve been able to talk to Joel over the last year. Sarah’s schedule going into third grade was much busier, his work picking up even more business and expanding. Your job was demanding — long hours, coming in early and staying late, rejection after rejection of ideas you excitedly pitched. By a few months in, you took the hint: you were there to get coffees, do the grunt work, fill in the gaps even if it wasn’t in your job description. It wasn’t that you had a problem with doing all of those things; anyone in the industry, basically anyone with a corporate job has told you that you have to do your time, climb the rungs of the ladder to get to where you want to be. But it’s hard to justify a job that has taken you away from the one place that feels like home, the people who make you feel loved.

It came in waves at first, that feeling of heavy limbs, slogging thoughts, the perpetual cinch of your chest as if you were going to cry, with no reason to. In summer, it was easy to blame it on homesickness, adjusting to a new city, or getting used to living with your new roommates. The leaves changing brought new symptoms: staying in over the weekends, curled up in bed with the TV playing cable reruns for 48 hours straight, the lull of sleep overcoming you at odd hours. But this was merely because the cold was creeping in, and the daylight hours were waning.

Joel called one winter evening; well, the Caller ID read his name, but upon answering the phone, you were quick to realize it was someone else.

“Hello?”

“Posey, you answered! Hi!”

“Hey, Sare-Bear. What’s going on?” You find the means to prop yourself up on your pillows, turning down the volume of the TV and curling your knees toward your chest.

“Not too much, I asked Daddy if I could call you and he said yes, so I did! I was sad you couldn’t be home for Christmas last month. Santa brought me lots of presents! Oh, and Daddy took me to Disney World with Uncle Tommy after Christmas before school started again!”

Sarah’s chipper voice is scraping nails against your heart, tightening your lungs until all you can manage is shallow breaths. You hold it together long enough to hear about all her presents and the Miller family trip before you hear Joel in the background, coaxing the phone from his daughter.

“Daddy says he wants to talk to you so I have to give the phone to him. Bye, Posey, miss you!”

“Miss you too, sweet pea,” you choke out, sinking further into your bed with eyes filling with tears. You should be overjoyed to be hearing from Sarah; instead, it fills you with a reminder that you have no idea when you’ll see her again, no clue how to try to make yourself love this place.

“Hey, Mari.”

The sound of his voice was syrupy, the drawl in his tone basking you in the Texas sun that you missed so. He was like the warmth of a bonfire, the summer breeze messing with your hair while you rode in his truck with the windows down. Hearing him was like sinking into his mattress for the night, a solid, weighted arm slung around you safely.

“Hi, Joel.”

“Gotta say thank you again for the watch you sent me for my birthday. I know, you’re going to say that I’ve already said it about ten times but I need to do it again 'cause I just like havin’ a reminder of you every day.”

“You’re welcome,” your voice wavers slightly, and you make a quick attempt to recover with a deep breath.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

No, not now, you can’t break now, you have to make it through the phone call.

Your tongue sits heavy in your mouth, your ears growing hot and tears pricking your eyes in pain as you hold it all in. One sniffle comes over you before you can catch it, concern lacing the other end of the call.

“Hey, darlin’—Hold on.”

Muffled thumps of footsteps heading upstairs crackle through the phone, the creak and click of a door closing popping in your ear pressed to the speaker.

“Sorry, I had to come up to my room. Now, what’s wrong, darlin’?” Joel’s gentle, airy tone breaks the final splinter of the dam, emotion overflowing.

“I shouldn’t let it all get to me, but, work has been awful, like all I've done this week is get coffee and take minutes for meetings, which don’t even get used because they have someone that gets to actually participate taking the minutes. And—and I can’t seem to find my place. My roommates are way closer with each other cause they’ve been working together before and at the office, it’s so cliquey and everybody keeps calling my accent cute—“

Attempting to make you smile, Joel interjects, “It is cute, sweetheart.”

“Well, you can say that ‘cause you’ve got one too. They just call me ‘Texas’ or ‘Y’all’ cause I said it once in front of the group. These people are all from around here, from generations of East Coast families and they know all about life here and constantly try to one-up each other and I can’t do it, Joel. I can’t—It’s too hard. It hurts so much.”

You’ve fully got tears streaming down your face, your voice thick with phlegm, and sniffling from your runny nose.

“Oh, my sweet girl…” There’s a strain in his voice too, covered with a stuttered clearing sound. “Mariposa, my Mariposa, you can do It. I know it’s hard, I know. And mean people don’t make the adjustment any easier, but remember you’re the bigger person. Kill ‘em with kindness, baby.”

“It breaks my heart to hear you’re hurtin’, Mari. But you can do it. You’re smart, beautiful, funny, tough…Are you—are you talkin’ to anybody, sweetheart? A professional?”

“No…” you confess meekly, embarrassed by your lack of effort.

“It’s okay, baby, that’s okay. Maybe we can find you someone, alright? Might help to get out of the house, go see them, talk to them. We’ll find you someone, Mari. Promise.”

“Joel, I don’t want you to worry about me. You don’t have to help me find—“

“I want to. I worry about you constantly, mi amor. It’s hard not to when half of my heart’s across the country.” Silence falls over the line, picking up your hand to wipe at your tears.

“Thank you, Joel.”

“I love you, Mariposa. Always going to.”

That was the last major phone call you had with him. He did help you find someone, a therapist, to talk to. But through them, you had come to the decision that this life wasn’t for you; corporate bullshit was leaving you burned out and defeated, and it was cooking up an unstable environment that let your sadness and disappointment fester into depressive episodes.

After that discovery, the choice was made and you phoned your parents to tell them you were planning on coming home at the end of your first-year contract if they would have you. They agreed, of course, to welcome you back home for as long as you need.

You couldn’t bring yourself to call Joel. Hearing his disappointment in your quitting would ruin you. And, you couldn’t blame him if he got a bit angry either. You ran off and chose this life, and when it turned out to be shit, you were running home with your tail between your legs at the first opportunity. He expected so much from you and was so proud of you for choosing your dreams.

You couldn’t bear to tell him about your failure. So you didn’t.

Arrangements were made in the next few months: a replacement roommate found, a letter of resignation submitted, a one-way plane ticket purchased.

Joel wipes at his forehead, standing in the middle of the job site he was working by himself. It was rare for him to really get his hands dirty these days; Miller Construction has grown tenfold since it started, a wider team built and Joel taking the helm as more of a manager and owner. He had a hand in every project, being the one to design and plan everything, leaving the execution to be led by Tommy and his employees.

This was a particular job, though, and one he wanted to make sure was perfect.

Your dad had approached him in early Spring, walking over while Joel mowed the lawn. He explained what he was looking to get done — the basement converted into a studio apartment, with a new bathroom and kitchenette.

Joel agreed to help with the task, and out of curiosity he asked why they were making the change. Usually, it was in-laws, but maybe it was to increase the sale value. Maybe they were planning a move?

He heard it and zoned out immediately.

You? You were moving home?

He wracked his brain for any mention of these plans from you over the last few months, but he came up short when he realized it had been a couple of months since the last phone call. Life had gotten so busy, evenings spent with lawyers and Sarah home every weekend, trying to adjust her to the new arrangement as best as he could. There was his own news he had to tell you, but couldn’t ever find the right time to reach out when he knew how stressed out you were. He remembered missing a call from you, but he completely forgot to return it. Were you going to tell him then?

The phone call he made to you that night went to voicemail, and he left one in hopes you would return a call or message.

“Hey, Mariposa… Hope you’re doing well, amor. Your dad, uh, he came over today and asked me for help on the house. They wanna make the apartment a basement and—shit you definitely already know all of this… Are you—are you coming home?”

He couldn’t stand how he sounded, on the verge of begging and filled with nerves, so the voicemail ended after he asked. You didn’t return the call.

Standing back looking at his handiwork, he takes a deep breath. He’s poured over the decisions for every detail, your parents entrusting him with the project completely. He matched the floors to the rest of your house, but the walls are a soft green, one accented with wallpaper he painstakingly installed that is patterned with lavender, marigolds, and hydrangeas — small butterflies hidden in the flowers.

At one side of the studio space, Joel installed the bookshelf he made by hand in his garage, the built-in coming up halfway on the wall, molding covering the surface, and stained a rich, medium tone that complemented the paint choice. He imagined your rows and rows of beat-up paperbacks filling the spaces, knickknacks strewn along the top.

Your furniture was moved down from your bedroom, arranged by your mom to fit nicely within the space. It feels like you’re already living in this space, the touches of you from your things and the new items he tried to get perfectly ‘you’. A faint smile tugs at his lips, excitement trickling into his bloodstream and tingling all over.

You’re coming home.

The first day you were back, you didn’t leave your new room.

It was out of exhaustion, but mostly out of relishing in the new space, nearly brought to tears by the thoughtfulness of your parents. When they were showing you the new studio suite of yours, you couldn’t stop smiling, turning to your mom and asking, “How did you choose the paint color? And where’d you get the bookshelf?”

Your mom laughed, shrugging as she answered, “Believe it or not, Dad and I were so busy these last few months that we told Joel just to go wild! Well, not wild, but he made all the choices — only ran the cost by us.”

“Wait, Joel did this?”

“Oh yeah, did the whole thing for free labor, too. Stand up guy. Said he just wanted to help out a neighbor — and he did the whole thing himself too, none of his guys helped him. He did a great job, huh kiddo?” Your Dad gives you a grin, extending his arms as if showcasing the room you three were already in and poking around in.

“Yeah, he did do a great job. Guess I need to thank him…” You swallow hard and toy with your bedspread as you sit at the edge of your bed, one leg bent onto the mattress, “Thank you both for this and—and for letting me come home.”

“Hey, don’t sweat it, kiddo. We love having you here, always. You stay however long you need, princess.” At that, it was simply closed, your parents never pushing for more detail than you were willing to offer at the time; both gave you a kiss on your head and a tender hug before they made their way back upstairs, leaving you to begin unpacking.

A fresh set of eyes rolls over the space, the context that each choice was Joel’s, made for you, lighting up small details. The color of the wood he used for the shelves, the wallpaper covered in your favorite flowers and butterflies; what catches your attention is a frame set on the surface of the built-ins. You pick it up, free hand jumping to your chest as you study the content.

A drawing, signed in the bottom right corner by a “Sarah M.” It’s of a garden, lush greenery with an opening in the middle. Joel stands at one side, with dark hair and a scribbled beard, Sarah in the middle with her bouncy curls. On the other side of Sarah is a depiction of you in your sundress from the day at the butterfly garden last summer. The closest thing to a photo of the three of you.

Placing the frame back where you had found it, you hold back your tears, rubbing circles in your thumping chest as you look around the room for five things you can see, four things you can touch, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste.

At the third out of four things you can touch, your eyes fall to your bed, pink plaid poking out from between your pillows drawing you nearer. You pull out the shape from your bedding, coming face to face with the long-eared, stuffed bunny that you passed down to Sarah last year. Flopsy.

You curl the animal into your chest, squeezing it as you climb onto your bed and lie down. Bringing it up to your face, you inhale the smell of the Miller house, the smell of your previous summers. It calms your rapid pulse, each deep breath lulling you to sleep.

Somehow, despite being each other’s next-door neighbors, you’ve managed to avoid Joel and he’s avoided you for the last few days. It wasn’t like you weren’t thinking about him — no, you were constantly thinking about him. Driving past his house, walking past his driveway, every time you wake up in your room and are faced with all of what he did for you.

But finally seeing him, talking to him, you were going to be faced with the reality of telling him that you couldn’t make it, even with all of his support. The thought of watching his face fall when you have to admit you moved across the country for what amounted to nothing, broke his heart for dreams that ended up being the opposite of what you wanted.

Joel avoided you, simply to give you some time to adjust and also, to skirt around the fact that he wasn’t there for you when you must have needed him the most. Plus, he had his own news to share with you, and he kept it in to keep you from worrying. He knew if he had told you then, when you were away, you would be on the next flight home to help him. He couldn’t make you do that, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to say no to you coming either. And now, he’ll have to admit all of this to you — to tell you that he kept this from you and watched your face fall into hurt.

This sunny Saturday morning, you’ve taken to walking door to door with all of the parents in the neighborhood, offering yourself to babysit or nanny to fill the summer while you figure out what you want to do with your life. Most were surprised to see you back home, but eager to take down your number, promising to reach out if they needed help.

On your way back home, you’re on Joel’s side of the cul-de-sac, biting your lip as you get a view of his back in a white tee, shoulders straining as he stretches over the hood of his truck. He squeegees the front windshield, the truck covered in soap suds from him washing it.

As if feeling eyes on him, he turns over his shoulder to see you walking up. Completely turning around, he leans back against the hood, waving to you with a held-back smile. Joel eyes you in your cut-off shorts, licking his lips and humming to himself when he sees his navy t-shirt on you, the one he gave you last summer.

“Now, Miller, I haven’t seen you wash that dirty ass truck once the past two summers. And now you’re out here in your little shorts and white tee as soon as I get back? Suspicious.”

On his driveway now, you stand a few feet apart, a bright teasing smile on your face. Joel can’t help but feel the familiar itch in his fingers, gripping the squeegee tighter. His butterfly is back in his stomach, stirring to life as its wings start fluttering at the sight of you, rising to his chest at the sound of your voice.

“Bit suspicious that this is the first time you just so happen to stop by to say hello, is it not, Mariposa?” he asks with a raise of his eyebrows, smirk tugging up one side of his lips and exposing his dimple.

“Wha—Oh, shut up. I was stopping by to offer to help you, for your information.”

“Oh yeah? Alright then, grab a sponge, sweetheart,” he nods to the bucket on the asphalt, tossing the squeegee into the grass. You pick up a sponge out of the bucket, ringing it out a bit before going over and starting to wash the other side of his car. Joel disappears around the side of the house, coming back with the hose running water to rinse the car off.

“Think you missed a spot, Joel,” you giggle, moving the sponge in circles.

“Y’know what? I think I missed a really big spot. Kind of on the other side by you.” He’s got a devilish smirk painting his face, mischief glinting his eyes in the sunlight. He stalks around the car, moving his thumb toward the end of the hose.

“Joel, don’t you dare…”

“What, darlin’? You look a little hot. Think you need to cool down.”

“Joel! Don’t, you shithead!”

In a last-ditch effort, you toss your sponge at his chest before trying to run away. It’s fruitless, shrieking as you feel the cold water spray at your legs. You turn around to face Joel chasing you with the hose, his thumb at the end to make the water pressure higher and shoot farther. It’s as if it’s raining, the water dripping from above; you cup your hands over your head, closing your eyes as you attempt to avoid the spray.

“Okay, okay! I've cooled down, please!”

All you hear is a laugh in response, the sound multiplying the goosebumps that the cold water has caused. With your eyes squeezed shut, you're blind as you run around the car, hitting directly into something solid, sturdy, but much softer than metal. A small ‘oof’ exhales out, one arm wrapping around you to steady you.

Opening your eyes, you see Joel with a wide, childish grin and a deepened dimple on his right cheek. The crinkles next to his eyes are showing and you can see the wet spot in his white shirt from the sponge hitting him.

“May I propose a treaty?”

“If it keeps you from spraying me with the hose, sure.”

He laughs again, sliding his hand across your back.

“You come over tonight and I won’t spray you again.”

“Hmm,” you hum as you consider it, eyes widening as Joel moves to get the hose on you again, “Okay, deal! Hose down, Miller!”

Happily, Joel throws the hose into the grass, tightening his arm in a half-hug. His lips as your ear, he speaks sweetly and kisses your cheek. “Good to have you home, Mari.”

You help him clean up the rest after he finishes rinsing the truck and shuts off the hose, lingering with him on the driveway.

He nods inside with a smile, “Someone else’s been waitin’ to see you if you wanna come in for a bit.”

“That would make my day. I’d love to see that someone,” you say through a smile, cheeks hurting from laughing and grinning for the past ten minutes.

Joel leads you inside, spotting Sarah on the couch. He walks ahead of you into the living space, heart swelling at the shocked reaction Sarah has to you standing in their house.

You are feeling the same — the ache in your bones from the last few months quells once you step foot in their house, limbs lightening when Sarah jumps off the couch and runs over, or well, runs into you.

“Posey! I can’t believe you’re back!” Sarah exclaims, giggling excitedly when you scoop her up into a hug and hold her flush against you. A kiss is pressed to the top of her head, a familiar scent in her hair from the product you use. You exchanged equally ecstatic greetings before she pulled you into the kitchen with Joel, sitting at the table to chat. Sarah sits across your lap, kicking her feet as she asks a million questions about why, how, what, and more.

You answer all of them, Joel interjecting for some as you explain to her that you’ll be here for the whole summer, at least, and that you’ll still be right next door.

Rubbing her back, you look down at Sarah with a gentle smile, “I have been meaning to come to ask you, sweet pea, but I found a mutual friend of ours on my bed when I came home. How did Flopsy end up back at my house? Did he get lost while your dad was working on my new room?”

“No, he isn’t lost! I know he’s there cause I put him there. I thought you might’ve missed him, and that he might make you happy and cheer you up because Daddy said you were missing home.”

Joel was unaware of the animal his daughter left behind, swallowing hard as she mentioned how he explained you were feeling homesick back then when you two had talked. His eyes are glued to you as he watches the emotions in your eyes, sadness flashing in them before you recover, visibly sitting up and the corners of your mouth tugging up into a gentle smile.

“He made me feel much better, sweet pea, so thank you. I can bring him back next time, okay?”

Sarah shakes her head firmly, making strong eye contact with you as she says, “No, you should keep him 'cause maybe you might need him while you get used to being home. He helped me get used to staying with Daddy all the time now, so I thought he could help you be at home again, too.”

You glance at Joel, who’s looking away from you now and toying with the edge of a placemat that’s laid out on the surface. Sarah turns her head, looking between the two of you before Joel clears his throat.

“Hey Bug, we gotta head out to get you over to Emily’s house for your sleepover tonight. Can you go get your bag from upstairs? And say goodbye to Posey.”

A quick hug and she is zipping off, leaving the two adults sitting at the table in a moment of silence. It’s Joel who breaks it again, looking at you with something unreadable on his face.

“You’re coming over tonight, yeah? I—I, um, I think we have some catching up to do.”

“Yeah, I think so too. I’ll see you tonight.” You stand up and he follows you to the door, taking your hand in his to pull you back as your hand reaches for the doorknob.

“It is really good to have you home, Mariposa. Feels like—I don’t know, life feels like summer again. I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Joel. I’ll see you tonight,” you lean in, stretching up to kiss his cheek before slipping out of the door and into your backyard.

At sunset, you slip out of the sliding glass door, walking across the pool area and into Joel’s backyard. Climbing up his deck stairs, you reach his back door and knock, biting back a smile when you can see him approaching with a puzzled expression. He opens the door, looking at you through the screen with a brown raised.

“Back door? This a new thing now?”

“S’closer to my new room.” You shrug and knock your knuckles on the metal frame of the screen door. Joel nods for you to step back, opening the door and holding it for you to come inside, shutting it and the windowed, wooden door behind it. Turning around to you, he steps forward, snaking his arms around your hips. A soft smile peels apart his lips with a relaxed sigh, leaning some of his weight into you.

“Hi, Mari.”

“Hey, J.”

“You smell good,” he says, muffled into your hair, lips pressing a kiss to the side of your head, “And I like that nickname.”

A quiet giggle breathes out from your mouth, hands coasting up and down his biceps. He moves to tuck your head under his chin, swaying back and forth in the middle of his kitchen.

“Thought we had stuff to talk about?” You question, biting your bottom lip and making no move to unfurl yourself from his arms. This is what you had been missing so much, feeling his radiating warmth and care. His tenderness, his love.

“We do. But I get to just hold you first, darlin’. Been waiting too long to do this again.” Squeezing you closer, he tucks his chin in to lay his lips against the top of your head, fingertips ghosting up your spine. It’s at least two minutes before he moves, untangling himself from you with one last kiss on your forehead.

“Alright, mi Mariposa, how about we sit on the couch? You can go first, sweetheart,” his voice crackles in your ears, feeling the reverb in your chest from his low drawl. Hands at your sides guide you into the living room, letting go to allow you to sit down, Joel taking a seat next to you and facing you. “You wanna go first, Mari? S’alright if you don’t…”

“No, I do. I think I should at least…” You sigh and focus your stare on a stitched seam of the back of the couch, tracing it with your fingers as you begin to recount what brought you home, “I don’t know if you remember that one phone call we had in the winter, but it was after that, you helped me find someone to talk to?”

“I remember.”

“Well, I started seeing them weekly, sometimes twice a week, and it helped to be able to talk about everything, but there wasn’t too much I could do to help the situation I was in. My, um, my therapist diagnosed me with depression.”

Your voice was thick, phlegm building up as your emotions started to get the best of you, stare still unfocused from Joel. His hand lays over yours, pulling you away from the movement and to his face. There’s no judgment in his eyes, only concern and piety. Without any words, he slides closer to you, pulling your legs across his lap and slipping an arm around your back.

“And in our sessions, I wasn’t really getting much better with the tools she was giving to me, so we made a plan. It started with her asking me where I felt the most myself, the most comfortable, where I could work on everything without the added…stress of work and feeling isolated. And then it was a bit of a no-brainer to make arrangements to come home. And—and I meant to call you, I really tried, Joel. But I couldn’t bear to have to tell you that I—I failed and that I broke your heart for nothing. You believed in me so much, and I couldn’t do it. I left everything behind, left you behind and nothing came out of it. And I couldn’t bring myself to call cause I couldn’t hear your reaction. I didn’t know if you’d care if I came back. If you would be mad or disappointed…”

You exhale with a long breath, tears flowing freely down your cheeks while Joel’s fingers work to wipe them away as quickly as they fall.

“Sweet girl…My Mariposa, I am so sorry you went through that. I’m so glad that you weren’t alone, that you had support, but I hate that I wasn’t there when you needed me,” he swallows and holds you against his chest, “I love you, sweet girl, always going to. I knew you had to go because I knew you might’ve regretted it if you didn’t try, but, darlin’, mi amor, I could give two shits if you live some big corporate life if it doesn’t make you happy. That is all I want for you, Mari, and if that wasn’t what you had up there, then I want you to find it wherever you are.”

You sniffle and wrap your arms around his neck, both of you embracing each other tightly — so tightly you nearly can’t breathe, but it feels comforting, like a weighted blanket over your body and soul.

“Selfishly, I’m glad you came home. Missed you, my sweet girl, and ‘m always gonna be here for you. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me, I should have been better, but there was just so much happening…” he admits, guilt and shame oozing out of his words and tone.

You pull back, brow furrowed as you hold the side of his jaw.

“Did something happen?”

“Um, yeah. Something did happen, in the spring…” he runs a hand over his face, sighing before he drops his forehead against yours, staying silent for a moment before sitting up again and gripping onto the fabric of your shirt.

“I have full custody of Sarah now.”

He watches as confusion falls over your face, melding into concern as he sees your thought process happening. He knows you’re thinking about Sarah, all of the little things she said earlier this afternoon must be clicking finally. The rhythm of his heart is racing, waiting for your questions.

“What? What happened? How? Are you okay, is Sarah okay?”

“It’s alright, Mari, I’m okay. Sarah’s adjusting. It was just sudden, and I had to scramble to get everything in order while also figuring out how to tell her. I really haven’t told her the truth, I c—I can’t do that to her…” His voice drops to a whisper as he trails off, eyes welling with tears of his own.

“Oh, J, babe, what happened? If you want to tell me, I’m here for you.”

He clears his throat, twisting the handful of fabric he’s got, “Tiff approached me after her last drop off when Sarah was inside the house, and she told me that…She basically said she met someone new, he was movin’ out of state for his job, and she wouldn’t be able to afford her child support anymore. I asked her what she was gettin’ at and she said, she said she wanted to sign her rights away. That she couldn’t do it all anymore.”

“I mean, I couldn’t bring myself to tell Sarah that—that her mom didn’t want to take care of her anymore. So I only told her that she would be gone for a while and that she would be staying at home for all her weekends for now. I don’t know what to do, baby. And it was all so chaotic, and I couldn’t call you 'cause I didn’t want to add to your stress with work and life up there.”

In response, you hold yourself around him silently, arms at his neck, straddling his lap and wrapping your legs around his waist like a koala in a tree. Joel relaxes into you, damp droplets soaking into your shirt and skin as he lays his head on your shoulder. All of his stress, his anxieties come out. He knows he should also be comforting you, for everything you’ve told him, but it’s like a door has opened and everything is piling out of him. He’s held it together for months now, his only person to talk to being Tommy, but he doesn’t want to burden his younger brother with all of his problems all the time.

Not that he wants to do that to you, either, especially with what you’ve been through, but at this moment, all he can think about is your touch, your warmth, your care.

“You could never be anything but an addition to my life, Joel. Even if it’s a problem, I want to help you solve it or be there for you while you work through it. ‘M here now, we both are, so we can get through our things together.”

At his next sniffle, he pulls away, staying wrapped up in you but sitting so he can see your face.

“Guess these last few months have been messes for both of us, huh?” You break the seriousness of the moment with your chuckle, sending Joel into a fit of laughter as he nods.

“Guess so. Might’ve been better if either of us called. Don’t think we’d be here right now crying.”

“That’s life though, isn’t it? At least ours. Miscommunication continually brings us back together. I think maybe we should quit that habit though.”

“I agree…” he smiles sweetly, eyes pouring adoration into yours, “All this talk about us, I guess my other question would be, what are we? I mean, you don’t have an end to the summer, right? So maybe we could—“

“Let’s give us a proper shot. No expiration date. We can just be together and see what comes of it, yeah?”

“Yeah, Mariposa, yeah. I would love that,” Joel leans in, catching your lips in a slow, syrupy kiss. It’s languid, stealing your breath and giving you his, melting your tongues together and sighing at the taste of you. He pulls back, ghosting his lips over yours with an infectious smile.

“So, is that it? Are you officially mine, Mariposa? Mi Mariposa es solo mi Mariposa (My butterfly is only my butterfly)?”

“Yours. And you’re mine, so don’t forget it,” you chuckle and he kisses you sweetly again, shaking his head as his nose fits against yours.

“Never going to forget that, are you kidding me? Hearing that automatically entered my top five best life moments.”

“God, you’re such an idiot…”

“Yeah, I am, baby. An idiot in love. A fool for you,” he laughs and tightens his grip around you, arms settling under your thighs as he stands from the couch, carrying you toward the stairs, “Also an idiot who’s getting to go to bed with the girl of his dreams. So, really, who’s an idiot now? Think I made some damn good decisions.”

“Can I take back my answer to your question?” You tease, shrieking when he drops you onto his bed, a smirk on his face as he shakes his head.

“No takebacks. Stuck with me now, Mariposa,” he climbs over you and kisses you again, deeper than before but as innocent as the giggly kisses you shared earlier.

“Good thing you’re a good kisser.”

“Yeah? Bet you know what else I’m good at, don’t you, sweetheart?” He sits back on his haunches, eyes dragging over you laying back on his bed, tongue poking out to lick his lips.

“Can I have you, darlin’? Pretty please?”

A hard swallow comes from your throat, crossing your arms over your stomach as you look up from the mattress to Joel.

“I want you to, but I’ve…I haven’t done anything since—“

“I understand, sweet girl. You wanna ease back into it with me, hermosa? We’ll go slow,” he watches you nod, pushing up the hem of your t-shirt to under your breasts, “No bra? Sigues siendo mi diablita, no? (You’re still my little devil, aren’t you?)”

As you sit up, he tugs the materials over your head, folding over to attach his lips to one of your already pebbled nipples. A whimper slips from your mouth, tangling fingers into his hair and arching into his mouth. He pays the same attention to the other side, soft moans filling the room.

Joel separates from you with a pop of his lips, grinning as he reaches for the back collar of his t-shirt and pulls it over his head. You happily sigh as you run your hands across his strong chest and shoulders, tickling your fingertips down his stomach as he watches you slip his shorts’ waistband down a few inches.

“Mm, I have an idea, sweetheart…You wanna try something we haven’t done before?” Joel kisses your lips before peppering kisses along your jaw.

“What d’you have in mind?”

“Take the rest of your clothes off, darlin’. ‘M gonna sit up at my headboard and you come sit on my lap, m’kay?”

You follow his instructions, licking your lips as you watch him stand and strip in front of you, his hard cock slapping against his stomach, leaking already out of need. He sits on his bed, head leaned against the headboard with pillows supporting his back. With your shorts and panties thrown into a heap with his clothes, you walk over the mattress on your knees, lifting one to the other side of his thighs.

“So beautiful, Mariposa. The most beautiful,” he sighs as he licks into your mouth, grabbing handfuls of your ass, “How did I get so damn lucky?”

“Could say the same thing about you, J. Pretty boy.”

He chuckles against your lips, shaking his head. “Not as pretty as you, mi amor. Estás preciosa. Mucho más preciosa que cualquier flor o puesta de sol o estrella. La cosa más hermosa que he visto.”

“What does that all mean?”

“You are gorgeous. Much more gorgeous than any flower or sunset or star. The most beautiful thing I've ever seen,” Joel speaks softly, tenderness in his eyes as he brushes your hair away from your face.

Heat spans across the back of your neck and up to the tips of your ears, heart pounding from the look he is giving you. It feels like it’s breaking down any facade you had left, completely exposed to him with the bashful smile on your face.

“I love you, Mariposa,” he punctuates with a stealing kiss, one hand roaming around to your front to slip between your legs. Two fingers collect your arousal on their tips, dragging some to your clit as you sigh into Joel’s mouth.

“Now, ‘m gonna touch you, baby, and if you want, you touch me at the same time, yeah?” He pulls away from your lips, nudging his nose into your cheek.

“I want to, I really want to.”

His fingers move to your entrance, gathering more along his whole fingers before pulling from between your legs and wrapping his own hand around his cock. He gives himself a few long strokes, looking into your eyes.

“Think you can spare some for me, sweet girl? Got you fucking drenched from barely even touchin’ you,” he sighs contently, leaning his head back more, “Spit on it for me, baby, and use your own hand, m’kay?”

You nod, eager to follow instructions. Folding forward, you drop saliva onto his waiting cock, watching as it slips down the side and mixes with your slick. He takes his hand away and your own wraps around his base, starting slow and teasing strokes.

“Fuck,” he exhales, dragging it out as long as his sigh is, “Missed you so much, sweet girl. You’re my sweet girl now, aren’t you? Only mine.”

His fingers find your core again, slow circles matching the energy of your strokes. A whine slips out, brows scrunching as you attempt to move your hips to get more friction.

“Please, Joel, please. Want more…”

“You want more, mi Mariposa? You want me to fuck you with my fingers, hm?” At your rapid nod, he chuckles darkly, nipping at your neck.

“Gotta give me more to get more, sweetheart. ‘M aching for you, just giving you the same treatment.”

“Mean,” you breathe out, gasping as his thick fingers tease your entrance.

“You ain’t seen mean yet, cariño,” he kisses you again as he slips one finger inside of you, the pace of your hand moving faster when you get more of what you wanted. He groans, the sound muffled into your tongue as it flicks against his, the heel of his hand rubbing against your clit. You start to bounce your hips in rhythm with your hand, imagining his cock inside of you again.

With a lewd noise, he pulls away, shallow breaths fanning across your collarbone.

“Mm, that’s right, baby. Fuck yourself on my fingers while you stroke my cock.”

His voice makes you flood his finger even more, easily slipping another into you for a few strokes before adding a third.

“Feel full, sweet girl? Feel anything like my cock?” He whispers to you as you continue to ride his hand, moving your hips and hand faster.

“So full, J. Not as good as your cock, nothing ever is, but fuck—oh fuck! Feels so good.” Your eyes close tightly as the frays of tightly coiled rope start to break inside of you. Joel takes over as your body stills with stimulation, fucking his fingers into you quickly with wet noises while his own hips move under your grip to fuck your hand.

“Come for me, my sweet girl. Let me feel what I’ve missed about this pussy. Still mine, isn’t it?”

“Yesyesyes, Joel! Oh my god, fuck I’m coming!” You open your eyes as the last fibers of the rope snap, pleasure radiating over every nerve while he continues to move under you and inside of you. The aftershocks of your orgasm fade as he whimpers in front of you, shots of warm cum coating your hand and his stomach.

“Oh fuck, Mari…” Joel picks his head up and looks at you with a breathless laugh and smile, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips as he pulls his fingers out of you.

“I love you, my girl. Mi Mariposa. Let’s get you cleaned up and get to sleep, yeah?”

Slumber reaches the edge of your vision, drooping your eyelids as Joel guides you to his en-suite, washing your hands for you before washing his, and wiping a warm cloth between your legs. He peppers kisses to your head, shoulders, and neck as he does it all, whispering sweet nothings as he pulls you back into his bed.

“Night, Mari.”

“Night, J…Mm, before I forget, we’re getting you new sheets tomorrow. No more navy, you’ve got a girl in your life now.”

He laughs, kissing the top of your head and holding you closer to his side as he exhales, “Sure thing, my sweet girl. Can’t have all the other ladies I randomly bring up to my room think I don’t have a woman in my life, Mariposa.”

The tone is overly sarcastic and you flick his chest half awake.

“It’s not for other women to know, it’s so I don’t feel like I’m with a junior in college. Makes you look like a frat star.”

Joel laughs louder, your head shaking with his chest moving and a smile turning your lips up, before he calms himself and strokes your spine, “Okay, okay, it is the task for the morning. We’ll pick up Sarah and head to…”

“HomeGoods.”

“Alright, HomeGoods it is. Now sleep.”

Sarah darts ahead of you both as Joel holds the door open, beelining in her Strawberry Shortcake pajamas to the first open booth she sees. Easily sliding into one side, she moves toward the wall as you two approach, patting the spot next to her.

“Posey, come sit with me!”

With a smile, you take the offered seat and look over to Joel as he settles in on the opposite side, shaking his head as he gives Sarah a playfully hurt face.

“You don’t want me to sit next to you, Bug?” he pouts.

“I wanna sit with Posey 'cause I always have to sit with you when we go places. It gets boring.”

You laugh loudly and cover your mouth when you get glares from other customers, Joel’s jaw drops for a moment before he looks at you and starts laughing as well.

“Never lose your honesty, mija.”

Sarah doesn’t seem phased by her dad’s response, moving to sit on her knees in the booth and look over the kids’ menu. Reaching up, you fluff her curls, smiling at her when she turns to look at you.

“How was the sleepover, Sare-Bear? I see you got some tinsel in your hair, it’s very pretty.”

“It was fun, but I kinda missed my stuffed animals and my own bed. I wanna have a sleepover at our house, Daddy,” Sarah looks up from the menu and to Joel, awaiting an answer. With one look at Joel, you can see the idea makes him nervous, having a handful of young girls to entertain for a whole night as a single dad. Sarah is one thing, she’s his and he can handle her attitude or boredom, but with other kids, he isn’t so sure he has a lot of tolerance.

“Um, I’m not sure, Bug. Can I think about it?” he asks with his brow furrowed, reaching across the table to nudge her arm with a smile. Sarah sighs and sits back, clearly disappointed in her father’s answer.

“Well, what about if you had a sleepover with me? I would be honored to be invited over. We could watch movies and I could do your hair or your makeup. We could paint our nails — a whole girls’ night. Plus your dad,” you turn back to Joel with a grin, winking as he chuckles.

Sarah immediately perks up, grinning wildly and bouncing in her seat, “You would come over for that, Posey? I want to have a sleepover with you. Please, Daddy, please can Posey come over?”

Joel gives you a knowing look, the secret shared between you two not living on for much longer, and he nods with a grin, “Sure, Bug. Posey can come over and stay whenever you want.”

Breakfast is filled with conversation about what you could do at said sleepover, making plans for movies, and going to the drug store to get some new nail polishes. Joel orders for the table so you can stay engrossed in conversation, and he can’t help but put a hand to his chest as he observes the two of you talking like you are best friends, despite the nearly twenty-year age difference. You treat Sarah like your own, and he reminds himself to thank you for that, someday.

When the chocolate waffles are set in front of you and Sarah, and a typical two eggs, toast, and bacon meal is laid in front of Joel, the conversation slows. After taking a sip of water, Joel faces Sarah, sharing one quick glance with you.

“So, mija, do you remember last summer when you were telling me about those classmates of yours that were boyfriend and girlfriend and they spent recess together?”

“Yeah, Luke and Katie. They are not boyfriend girlfriend anymore,” she says with an exasperated sigh, taking another bite of her waffle.

“Well, that’s too bad…Anyways, Bug, d’you remember what you told me when Posey was moving away? Like what you told me I should ask her?” You forgo your breakfast for a moment, sipping your water and darting your eyes between Joel and Sarah. She seems perplexed for a minute, tapping her chin as she thinks back in her young memory.

“I think I remember, Daddy. Why?”

Joel adjusts in his seat, clearing his throat — he’s never had to have this type of conversation with Sarah. Every woman he dated before had never gotten to this point, and after over two years of this back and forth with you, over a year of being head over heels for you, he knows it’s appropriate and that it’s time and that this is going to last until the end. If everything goes, well, how he is hoping it will go, this will be the only time he has to have a conversation like this with Sarah.

If only he knew how you were just as nervous, clammy hands gripping your condensation-covered plastic cup tighter and looking over at Sarah. Sure, she loves you, but that is as her nanny. As a family friend. Would she change her opinion if you were dating her dad? Your mind told you that you couldn’t be sure despite the way your heart was yelling at you to tell you that it would be all fine.

“I was askin’ you all this 'cause I have a big question I wanted to ask you. It’s okay to be honest, princess, I want you to know you can say whatever it is you feel, yeah?” Sarah nods in confirmation, encouraging Joel to continue, “What would you think about Posey being my girlfriend?”

“Is she your girlfriend, Daddy?” Her head whips to the side, curls bouncing as a grin grows on her face, “Are you Daddy’s girlfriend?”

The younger Miller volleys her gaze between you and Joel, eyes widened with her brows raised as she sits up eagerly. You make eye contact with Joel, nodding to him with a gentle smile.

“Yeah, mija, Posey’s my girlfriend now. Can you believe she said yes to your silly dad?” He teases and can’t help but laugh along with her as she giggles excitedly, the infectiousness of it bringing out a laugh from you.

“I’m so excited! Wait, so that means Posey is gonna be hanging out with you lots of times? And she’ll be at our house and can play with me?” Her tiny arms wrap around your bicep closest to her, leaning into your side. You drop your head onto hers and both of you look over at Joel.

“As much as Posey wants to come over, we’d be happy to have her, right Bug?” He smiles sweetly at you, holding your eyes for a lingering moment before Sarah pipes up again.

“Well, you can’t take up all the time Posey is over, Daddy, ‘cause I want to hang out with her, too.” Her arms tighten possessively and you chuckle, shaking your head.

“No need to worry about that, sweet pea,” acting as if you’re sharing a secret with her, you lean in, “Don’t tell your dad, but I think we’ll hang out the most.”

Sarah giggles at your joke, leaning back in the booth and letting go of your arm. Joel’s daughter starts to list everything she wants to do this summer, now with you instead of only her dad, and you look up to face Joel for a moment. He shrugs and smiles at you, reaching over and stealing a bite of your waffle. At your gasp, he chuckles and grins smugly, chewing the swiped sweet.

“Hey, Daddy, that’s not very polite,” Sarah reprimands, turning back to her food.

“I was makin’ sure it wasn’t poisoned, mija, just like I’m going to make sure yours isn’t too,” he takes the same from her plate, and in retaliation, you reach over and grab a piece of bacon, splitting it in half and giving one to Sarah.

“Hey! I don’t have that much bacon, y’all have massive waffles.”

“Sharing is caring. That’s what you always say to me, Daddy.”

“Yeah, J, sharing is caring. Can’t give the lesson if you can’t follow it.” You playfully stick your tongue out and Sarah imitates it, too. Joel sighs and shakes his head, leaning back in the booth.

“Is the two of you teaming up on me gonna be a thing now?”

“Yeah,” you answer at the same time as Sarah, the three of you laughing with each other.

It was bold to come to a HomeGoods on a Sunday, all of the aisles packed with people browsing on this relaxing weekend, stowing away in the air conditioning before venturing to the other stores in the commons. Sarah grips your hand, poking around the shelves while Joel stands behind you, a hand on your waist to keep you close.

The aisle filled with sheet sets is finally discovered by the three of you, excusing yourselves to the center of the aisle past a few fellow shoppers, looking up and down before facing Joel.

“Alright, your choice. Anything but plain ol’ navy, please.”

Joel’s eyes follow the same path that yours had, combing over the options before shrugging and staring down at you again.

“You choose for me.”

“Okay, that is not the point, it is still your room and your house.”

“I made choices for your room for you, sweetheart, you choose for me now,” his timbre rings in your ears as he presses his lips into the side of your head, fingertips rubbing circles in your lower back. Sarah wanders off down the aisle and Joel calls out a warning to stay where he can see her, waiting for you as you peruse the options. After some consideration, you select a thin pinstriped set and a plain white one, holding the sets against your chest.

“What d’ya think of these? Like either of ‘em?” Joel checks them out, shrugging and smiling.

“Both look great to me. You wanna look at anything else, mi amor?” He leads you out of the aisle, taking the sets and holding them under his arm. Pursuing the store, the three of you weave around aisles, checking out some other things. Sarah excitedly runs ahead to explore the kids’ section, drawn in by glitter, sequins, and bright colors. Joel takes your hand with his open one, nodding to some furniture on display.

“D’you like any of that?” You hum, turning your attention to him when you hear his question, following his gaze to the mix of pieces. Shrugging, you squeeze his hand and grab his bicep with your opposite one.

“The chair’s nice. Personally, I prefer my handcrafted, artisan bookshelf though.”

Joel scoffs and laughs a bit at your descriptors, “M’glad to hear that, the amount of splinters I got for that thing was brutal.”

“There’s literally blood, sweat, and tears put into it then,” you tease, continuing to scan over the goods, “None of this compares to a Joel Miller original.”

“I mean, thank you, sweetheart, but I do want you to feel at home with us. I’d get whatever you liked—well, maybe not something I could make 'cause it’s less expensive for me to just do it, but I want you to have a hand in our home. Make it as much of your space as it is ours.”

“I do feel at home with you both cause it’s the two of you. I mean, I didn’t really feel completely at home until I was at your place. The drawing from Sarah and Flopsy and the fact that you built my studio for me made me feel so much more comfortable, but it was like something really settled when I saw you.”

“Y’know, I like having little reminders of you every day, darlin’. Bedsheets, stolen bites of waffle, the stuffed animals on Sarah’s bed, my watch from you,” he lifts his left wrist to show off the round face with the army green band, kissing your cheek, “And I want whatever you are willing to give me, even if it is just those tiny moments. I would be content with that for the summer; no matter where you decide to end up, I’d cherish all the small things with you.”

Looking up at him, you give his hand a gentle squeeze, “Think we both know what I’m gonna decide, J.”

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allmoshnobrain · 9 months

Text

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 18 of ? | masterpost

word count: 3287 | ao3 link | fic's playlist

His words hit me like a punch in the stomach. I knew Dave wouldn't like the idea of me reconnecting with Cliff, James, and Lars. But I didn't expect him to be so shaken by it. Dave, who had always been kind to me, who had protected me from everything and everyone, was now staring at me like I'd double-crossed him. Actually, it was worse – like he was straight-up disgusted by me.

✦ summary: Amid the hustle and bustle of life in Los Angeles, Nore finds herself torn between her loyalty and love for Dave and the longing she feels for her old life in San Francisco and her friends.

✦ on this chapter: dave mustaine x female!oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, romance, fluff, angst

✦ a/n: Hello! It took me a while to post this new chapter, I haven't been able to keep a consistent posting schedule lately because I've been real busy but here it is! Apparently Ao3 is down again, so I haven't posted this one there yet, but I will upload the fic there as soon as it's back! A lot happens in this part so I hope you guys like it, feedbacks are always welcome ❤

Life with Dave had settled into a comfortable rhythm, even amidst the constant energy of our bohemian neighborhood. It was eye-opening how my interactions with the boys, particularly Dave, had shaped me since the start of the year. I was taken aback by the reflection in the mirror, where a more mature version of myself stared back; I had chopped off my hair after my birthday, trading long locks for a shoulder-length cut.

The shyness that had accompanied my arrival in San Francisco had been replaced by a quiet resolve. The parties in Los Angeles were far more chaotic than what I was used to, and I quickly needed to adjust myself to the new scene. Despite my denial, I found myself drinking more than ever before and soon started carrying a pocketknife with me wherever I went. Not that I needed to use it, anyway; everyone knew that Dave would be more than ready to pick a fight with anyone who dared to bother me.

Dave's whole idea of jumpstarting a new band wasn't exactly going according to plan. He'd rounded up some friends to jam with since he got back to California, but things hadn't really moved past that point. Plus, they were still on the hunt for a bassist. But all of this was about to change.

I woke up one Monday to this crazy loud music blasting. I squinted, puzzled, as I glanced around and realized I was alone in bed. I scrunched up my face, feeling a throbbing headache creep in — Dave and I had knocked back way more drinks than we should've the day before, so I could tell a killer hangover was looming.

"What. The. FUCK!" I heard Dave's voice shout from the living room. Scrunching up my brows, I dragged myself up to see what the commotion was all about. And then it hit me: the racket I was hearing was some bass guitar being played at full blast. It took me a sec, but I finally caught on to the tune — it was the bassline from "Running With the Devil" by Van Halen.

"Dave, what's the deal?" I managed to say, my voice thick with sleepiness. I noticed him standing by the living room window, his face all riled up. He turned my way, the annoyance softening as his eyes met mine.

"And now the asshole woke up my girl too," he muttered, disgruntled, making his way over to me. He pulled me into a hug, planting kisses on my cheeks and then on my lips, prompting a small chuckle from me. "Hey. Sorry about that. Our new neighbor is a real jerk."

"They're definitely making a statement with that volume," I mumbled, still half in dreamland, my headache not improving with the noise. "Ever thought about just closing the window?"

"I've got a different plan," he said, dropping his voice a notch, easing his grip before stepping back. He picked up an empty beer bottle from the table, and I raised an eyebrow as he leaned against the windowsill, giving the bottle a solid toss towards the window below. "Shut the hell up, already!"

Miraculously, this time, the noise actually stopped. Dave looked at me, letting out a sheepish laugh. I bit my lip, trying to stifle my laughter.

"Damn, Dave. I hope they don't come up here to beat you up."

"They can try," he answered, his laughter low and warm, his arm finding its way around my waist as he planted a kiss on my cheek. "Let's just get back to sleeping."

I didn't bother when he guided me to bed, and we laid down; it was still pretty early. I was almost drifting off to sleep again when a knock on the door disrupted the calm. I opened my eyes, giving a frustrated groan, and Dave mumbled as he got up to answer.

"Hey, know where we can grab smokes?" a guy's voice came from outside.

"There's a store on the corner," Dave replied shortly before closing the door with a thud. He returned to bed soon after, pulling me close in a tight embrace, his face nuzzling my neck.

He had barely settled when there was another knock on the door.

"Fuck off!" he muttered, annoyed, yanking a pillow to cover his head. I got up to answer the door, my headache intensifying, my patience wearing thin.

“Oh, hey,” I was met with a grin from a tall boy, around my age. He had brown hair and was rocking a Kiss t-shirt under a worn leather jacket. His buddy, dressed in a similar style, watched with interest. “Can I talk with your... uh, boyfriend?”

“Uh, he's…” I was gonna say that Dave was sleeping, but he beat me to it. He swung the door open and glared at the two guys, not hiding his annoyance.

“What do you jerks need?”

“Hey,” the guy greeted, not seeming bothered by Dave's standoffish vibe. “So, you old enough to score us some beer?”

I glanced at Dave and caught a hint of a smirk on his face. He still looked annoyed, but the boy's persistence seemed to impress him a bit.

“Well,” Dave said. “You're growing on me, kid. Gimme a sec.”

He snagged his leather jacket, wallet, and keys, giving me a quick goodbye before heading out with the guys. I sighed, pretty sure sleep wasn't coming back to me, and decided to get changed and freshen up.

They rolled back in a while later, arms loaded with crates of beer. Turned out the boy's name was also David — Ellefson — and his friend went by Greg. David was a bit younger than me, and he was the one who had been playing bass at full volume in the morning. Funny thing, Dave seemed to have dropped his earlier annoyance. Actually, as they got talking, it was clear they were getting along really well.

I split for work a few hours later, leaving them chatting and drinking. When I got back home that night, I found Dave more pumped than I'd seen him in ages. He hadn't paid much attention to Greg, but I could tell he had really clicked with David.

"Thinking of roping him into the band," he told me, grin wide. "He's cool, and damn good on that bass. I think this might be it."

I grinned back and agreed. Back then, I had no clue about what lay ahead. No idea this was the inception of Megadeth, the big project that'd define Dave's future. I was just happy to finally see things going well for him. And to finally see him making some new friends — that's exactly what he needed right then.

A few days later, I was fixing up something for lunch before heading to work when my phone rang.

"Hey there, Nore," Cliff's voice chimed in when I picked up, and I raised my eyebrows in surprise. We hadn't talked since my birthday, even though I'd catch up with what they were doing through Leanne once in a blue moon.

"Hey, Cliff. What's up? Why the sudden call?"

"Oh, thanks for the warm welcome," he retorted with a hint of sarcasm. "Can't a cousin catch up anymore?"

A faint blush spread across my cheeks.

"My bad. Of course, you can," I said, secretly relieved that Dave wasn't around. He hadn't exactly been very happy lately when Lars, Cliff, and James were brought up.

“Relax,” he answered, in his usual laid back way. “Actually, I've got an invite for you. We're on tour, and we're swinging back to San Francisco…”

“Hold up a sec, what?” I cut in. “You're on tour? What about the album?”

“Album's out already.”

“And no one bothered to clue me in.”

“Figured you already got the memo.”

“How would I, if you didn't bother giving me one?” I frowned, a bit ticked off. Cliff let out a sigh.

“Fine, my bad. Look, money's been a bit tight, so I couldn't exactly ring you up all the time. But we've got a gig in San Francisco next Saturday. Wanted to see if you'd wanna come.”

I chewed on my lip, pausing for a moment. Of course, I totally wanted to go. Despite the whole mess with the guys after Dave got kicked out, I couldn't deny they were still my friends. More than that – Cliff was family, and it'd been weeks since we saw each other. LA was a whirlwind, but it sure got lonesome at times. But I didn't want to upset Dave about this. Something told me he wouldn't exactly cheer if I said I wanted to hit up a Metallica gig right now.

“Cliff, I'm not sure,” I said. “It's just… Dave…”

“Screw Dave, Nore. You worry too much about him,” he shot back, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "And seriously, everyone's been missing you. Please?”

I sighed. I knew I might get into trouble for this, but how bad could it be? It was just a concert, after all.

"Okay, fine, I'm in. But only 'cause I've been missing you guys," I caved. "So where's this gig gonna happen?"

"At The Stone. Lea's gonna be there too, you can crash at her place if you need."

"I'll hit her up later. Catch you at the gig then?"

"Count on it."

“Missed you,” I mumbled before he hung up, and he chuckled.

“Yeah, me too.”

“Geez, Nore! You look like hell.”

I squinted at Pat, trying to stifle a yawn as I met her blue gaze. Patricia, my co-worker, was the spawn of Roger Anderson, the boss at my new job in a downtown LA record store. She was a bit younger than me, and we clicked fast after realizing we were both crazy about pretty much the same bands. Thanks to work, we'd become good friends over the past two months.

“Hey there, Pat,” I dumped my bag behind the counter. It was early afternoon and I'd just walked in for my shift, but I couldn't wait to get back home; that night had been a difficult one. “Mornin' to you too.”

“Good morning,” Pat greeted, giving me a curious look. “Rough night?”

“Yeah, kinda... a lot on my mind,” I mumbled, seizing the quiet moment with no customers to leaf through a Kerrang! magazine lying on the counter.

“Is this about your boyfriend again? You're always worried about him,” she quipped, heading to the small kitchen in the back. I let out a soft chuckle. “Here you go,” she plunked a coffee mug down in front of me. I closed my eyes for a second, inhaling the rich scent rising from the freshly brewed drink. “To help you wake up.”

“Thanks,” I yawned, taking a sip. She grinned, snagging a chair beside me behind the counter, flipping open the magazine as well.

"He's like, so handsome," Pat swooned, her tone dreamy. I peered above my coffee mug at the magazine she was flipping through; her attention was glued to photos of the Thin Lizzy guitarist. "Think I stand a chance?"

"To find out, you'd need to actually meet the guy," I chuckled. She grumbled, faceplanting onto her crossed arms, then shot me a look with her bright blue eyes.

"So, what's with the insomnia?" she asked. I let out a sigh.

"It's just... You remember Dave was in the same band as my cousin, right?"

"Yeah, and then they booted him out and you got super pissed," she pointed out. I gave a soft chuckle.

"Yeah, that. But now they're coming back to California, and my cousin invited me to catch their next gig. I wanna go, but..."

"You haven't dropped the news on Dave yet?"

I shook my head, thoughtful, draining the last of my coffee.

"He took everything really hard," I mumbled, my voice low. "I'm not even sure if he'll be cool with me wanting to go."

"But you do wanna go, right?" she questioned, stretching her arms before picking up my now-empty mug. "I mean, from what you've shared, you and your cousin are super tight. You shouldn't ditch seeing him just because of your boyfriend. You gotta talk it out with Dave, he'll get it."

I absentmindedly nodded, letting out a sigh. Pat was hitting the nail on the head with that one: I did wanna go. I missed Cliff big time, but it wasn't just that. I missed San Francisco and my friends too. Life with Dave was great, and Los Angeles was a whole new chaotic, bustling universe, but sometimes I also felt kind of lonely.

I just hoped Dave could understand that.

Later, when I finally got back home, I was welcomed by the sound of Dave's guitar as he played. I closed the door, tossed my bag on the couch, and headed into the bedroom. There he was, sitting on the bed, his guitar in his lap, and a half-finished joint chilling in the ashtray on the bedside table.

"Hey there," I greeted, and my smile matched his as he glanced up, his grin growing even bigger at the sight of me. He got up, setting the guitar down, and came my way.

"Hey," he said. I chuckled softly as he wrapped an arm around my waist, planting kisses on my lips and then my neck. "How was your day?"

"Same as usual," I answered, letting out a little giggle as he nuzzled into my neck, pulling me close. "And yours?"

"Same as usual," he pulled away, looking at me with a smile, his eyes flickering to my lips in a way that made my heart race. "Thinking about hitting the shower. You're welcome to join if you're up for it…"

“Oh, um, Dave…” I started, my voice kind of shaky with nerves. If possible, I'd rather handle the whole concert talk with him later. But after Pat's pep talk, I knew if I didn't tackle it now, I'd never get around to it. Dave looked at me, curious. “There's something I wanted to talk about…”

“Huh? Did I mess up or something?” he asked, a smile on his face, though I could sense the worry behind it due to my uncertain tone.

“No, not at all,” I muttered, then took a deep breath. “It's just that... Cliff called a few days ago,” I paused as his brow creased, but there was no going back now. “They're playing a gig in San Francisco. I thought about going…”

Dave's brows knit together, his expression shifting as he sort of pulled away, his gaze fixing on me with a weighty silence. I met his eyes, my heart doing a somersault in my chest. I figured he wouldn't take the news super well, but that wasn't exactly the reception I was hoping for.

“You want to go see Metallica,” he finally spoke up, his voice low and devoid of emotion.

“I want to see Cliff…”

“Oh, not James and Lars?” he quipped, a touch of bitter sarcasm lacing his words.

“Dave…”

“Nore, remember they showed me the exit door? No warning. No second chances. And now you wanna kick it with 'em?” he seemed more incredulous than anything, incredulous and hurt, which only made the situation worse. He shook his head, like he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing, running a hand through his hair and looking at me, torn between disappointment and anger. “Damn it, Nore. I can't tell if you're being dumb or if you just don't love me anymore.”

I couldn't react, I just stood there in silence as tears welled up in my eyes. This wasn't fair. I had chosen him. I had distanced myself from my cousin and my friends for him. I had stood by him from the beginning. Somehow, I had expected him to be angry, but not like this. Cliff and I would butt heads all the time, sure, but me and Dave? This stung way more than I'd ever figured it could.

“Dave, seriously... This isn't playing fair,” I managed to get out, my voice breaking as a sob hitched a ride on the tears that were falling. I could see it all hit him, the weight of what he'd just said settling in his eyes, a mix of horror and regret. But the moment had passed, the words hung in the air, and now there was no going back. I shook my head as I turned around to leave the apartment.

“Nore. Wait up, Nore!” Dave's voice hurried after me, his grip on my arm pulling me to a halt just before I could duck out completely. I tried to rein in the tears that were breaking through, causing me to sob and tremble. “Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it. I really didn't…”

“I'm right here with you!” I shot back, my voice shaking like crazy, not as strong as I'd like, but definitely loud enough to make a point. “Fuck, Dave. You think I'm some kinda idiot for wanting to see my friends? I've got no one else – my parents practically booted me, my old Long Beach friends act like I've got the plague.” I edged away, the words tumbling out in a jumble, trying to stem the flood of tears. I looked into his brown eyes and saw them gazing at me, filled with pain. “Metallica was all I fucking had too! Do you want to snatch that away from me? You think I'd be standing here if I didn't love you?”

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, his voice sounding more fragile than I'd ever heard, as he pulled me into a tight embrace. "I'm a fucking idiot. I'm really sorry."

"You're everything I've got too," I murmured, my sobs gradually calming down as I buried my face into his chest. "Just... Please don't make me choose, Dave. I can't, I really can't."

"It's okay. I'm sorry," he soothed, his fingers softly running through my hair, his voice quivering as he held me close against him. "I love you. So damn much. Please, don't leave me. Stay here with me."

"I'm not leaving you," I sniffled, finally managing to get a grip on my tears. He rested his forehead against mine, his pained eyes locking onto mine. "I'm here because I love you. But you've got to trust me, Dave."

"I do trust you, Nore. For real. I'm sorry," he whispered, seeming relieved now that I was starting to calm down. "Of course you can go. You don't need my permission. It's just... I can't face them anymore. I need to be something, Nore. If I fail, if I'm just a loser…”

“Dave, you're not a loser. You're an amazing guitarist, remember? Didn't I tell you that when we first got together?" I cut in, and he let out a soft chuckle.

"Yeah, and you also mentioned I was really handsome," he quipped, and I laughed, a shaky laugh that still carried the traces of tears. He looked at me for a moment before adding: "I don't think you're dumb, by the way. You're the smartest girl I've ever met."

“You haven’t met many girls, have you?” I mumbled, and he rolled his eyes.

"Hush, Burton," he grumbled before leaning in to kiss me.

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deada55 · 1 year

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His Life Will Find A Purpose (When the River Meets the Sea) - Chapter 7

crossposting: ao3

work summary: A nine-year old in Tomahawk, WI gets glaucoma surgery over Christmas break.

chapter summary: As the advent calendar counts down, Pickles struggles under the anxiety of looming surgery.

tws: none (let me know if I missed a biggie!)

As December trickled by, Pickles would occasionally feel something rush up from nowhere in slow-motion, like he’d seen a tsunami climb out of the horizon. On the Wednesday before Christmas break started, they had a school assembly to watch the kindergartners and the fifth graders (including Seth) sing Christmas carols, and on that Friday they had a party complete with cupcakes from the classroom mom, quiet Mrs. Lofgren. But not even candy and watching Seth boil red from humiliation on the stage in the gym could break Pickles out of his fog.

Since he’d been provided an assigned seat after the first week of class, sitting with his friends in the back wasn’t an option, so he had to catch up with Rodney, Jonathan, and Michael during recesses. Today, they all sat behind the previous day’s snow fort.

“You’re lucky you don’t go anywhere on Christmas. My mom drags us to grandma’s house for dinner and it’s so boring.” Jonathan seemed to be related to almost everyone in town, if you went by everyone he claimed to be his cousin. A silent nodding consensus among Rodney and Michael cemented that yes, it was possible that Jonathan would have a large family gathering to attend on Christmas Day. Jonathan had the best baseball card collection and made a good playmate despite his constant fibbing, but his remarks consistently needed vetting.

“Yeah, it’s kinda busy at my house on Christmas.” Rodney’s mother was easygoing, yet exhausted with three year old twins, Rodney, and three beautiful Labradors. “I just play with my toys and have dinner.”

“Hey Pickles?” Michael interrupted Rodney just before taking a cool, refreshing bite out of a fresh snowball. “My sister’s in Seth’s class and she said you’re gonna be in the hospital on Christmas.”

“Yeah, that’s right.” Pickles took off his wet mittens and drew furrows in the snow with his bare fingers. Traces of dried blood from his cuticles gave the snow the slightest rusty freckles as he plowed it into parallel lines.

“Really?” Rodney wiped his nose on his sleeve. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s his eye thing, remember?” Jonathan chirped, doing his best to be helpful.

“Yeah,” Pickles confirmed. Michael pushed himself up onto his knees.

“Wow. Are you going to get presents there?”

“No, my parents decided it’ll be when I get home.”

“Seth also said you’re not getting nothin’, but I don’t think that’s true.” Michael was always nice, whether he tried to be or not. Believing Seth came too easily to Pickles, and hearing someone else disagree with him always made Pickles feel a little better. If someone else thought Seth was wrong, then maybe he was actually wrong, and it wasn’t just Pickles trying to sabotage himself into disappointment.

Pickles sat back and put his hands in his pockets. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t care?” Michael ducked his head a little bit and ended up looking so sincere, with big, warm, black eyes, that Pickles almost snatched him into a hug,

Pickles shrugged, but before he could speak, Jonathan piped back up, this time just to be a know-it-all.

“You know eye surgery sometimes makes stuff worse, right? That’s how my uncle lost his eye!” His uncle lost his eye in a VA hospital in California after he’d come back from Vietnam, a story he told almost everyone he met. And Jonathan’s uncle met a lot of people working at the liquor store. He’d get talking for hours at the counter and wouldn’t even remember the back door of the stockroom was unlocked, and the creme de menthe was awfully close to the back door… Pickles helped himself every now and then. Jonathan’s uncle sure knew how to drum up new customers.

“Would you come back to school if you were blind?”

“I don’t know.” Blindness was such a frightening prospect that Pickles had instead begun to settle with his mortality, and fully intended to choose death over blindness out of sheer will. Still, there was no guarantee that wishing himself dead would finally work… Jonathan had effectively read Pickles’ fearful mind, but he smirked and looked back up into his friends’ faces. “I could get an infection and die with pus coming outta my face, so…” Heh. That’d be funny. Closed-casket funeral for sure. Maybe it’d make his mom sick of making casseroles with that set, gelatinous, yellow cream of chicken soup that was so concentrated that it came out shaped like its can… Can pus be chunky?

The boys were silent as they watched two beads of winter “sweat” drip onto Pickles’ cheeks.

“Well, I’d miss you-” Michael began, but was interrupted by Mrs. Wallace clearing her throat from the other side of the fort. Her festive nativity vest wiggled its pom pom trim at them from above.

“Gentleman, recess ended five minutes ago.”

“Sorry, Mrs. Wallace!” Jonathan was not only a fibber but a kissup and stood up the fastest, but they all trudged into line with the other kids.

At the end of the day, right after the final bell, before she’d even sat her chalk down, Mrs. Wallace called Pickles over to her desk. He slid everything on the top of his desk into his schoolbag, leaving papers and pencils to get crushed under his books, as long as it could close. Then, he walked up to her, standing in the scuffed 12x12 asbestos tile squarely in front of her nameplate.

His eyes only lifted when she held his mittens out to him, dry and warm from sitting on the radiator behind her desk.

“You left your gloves at recess.”

“Oh…” They needed to be washed but otherwise they were perfect and almost steaming with warmth. He cupped them in his hands, but he didn’t dare look at Mrs. Wallace in case he were in trouble for forgetting them in the first place. “Thanks.”

“Merry Christmas,” she offered, softening her eyes.

“Merry Christmas.”

When Pickles had his coat on (and doublechecked that Luke and his inhaler were still in the pockets), he heard Mrs. Wallace call him again while she straightened out the rows of desks. “Pickles?”

“Yes?”

Her mouth opened and shut a few times but nothing in her mind made it down to her mouth. Over the length of the semester, it felt like a light had gone out in her class. Although Pickles became less disruptive, it wasn’t a result of trying to focus more in class, punishment, or ‘maturing’. If anything, he’d gotten more distracted with his head on his desk instead of making faces or trying to cut up with the other students. She let him get away with playing with toys in the pockets of his clothes because it was one of the only remaining signs that Pickles was a nine year-old boy and not a frightened dog. His current state was far from the description of the incorrigible and wildly sincere child his last teacher described. It was like he’d been snapped in two.

Mrs. Wallace knew from being on the church prayer chain that when someone believes they’ll die, they come that much closer to it. Surgery was no laughing matter, but to see Pickles say a roundabout goodbye behind the snow fort he built laughing the day before made her heart lurch into her hands. But who was she to tell him he wouldn’t die?

He could barely stand to be spoken to. With his head tucked and his arms creeping up to his chest, Pickles took baby steps backwards towards the door.

“I’m looking forward to seeing you back in class in the new year.”

He chalked it up to seasonal formalities and nodded in her general direction. “Yeah, uh, you too. Bye.”

While she was dusting the cubbies, she found his mittens again, laid right under his coat hook on the floor. She brushed them off and folded them, laying them neatly in the left corner of his cubby where he could see them as soon as he returned.

Pickles’ sleeplessness followed him to Saturday morning, cartoons be damned. His teeth ached, for no good reason, and it was almost enough to make him stop eating. Weakly, Pickles hiccuped, and scooped spoonful after crunchy, wet spoonful into his mouth, until he could feel the granulated sugar he’d sprinkle over his cornflakes squeak between his molars.

“Just slap me,” Seth moaned with his head leaned against the couch cushion and his limp arms giving him the languishing, saintly form of a groggy Saturday morning schoolkid.

“What?”

“I said just slap me.” The hum of the tubes on the TV was eerie and clear, or were they hearing the refrigerator? They were still as two bodies laying in adjoining cabinets in the morgue.

Pickles reached to the right and hovered his fingers over Seth’s cheek. He brought it down on Seth’s unfocused face with the same hardness you’d use to make a hollow sound on a dog’s ribs, but pulled back when he felt his brother flinch.

“Ow!” Seth squeaked… right before he laughed. “You hit like a girl.”

“I do not!” Pickles couldn’t help being a little brother, but he was not a little girl.

Seth clicked his tongue like an idiot (Mom smacked him when he did it, but he swore he saw it in a mob movie) and returned his head to the polystyrene hammock of the couch seat cushion. With his knobby legs shoved under the coffee table and that smug, satisfied look on his face, Seth looked as comfortable as could be.

“Do it again.”

This time, with twice as much hesitation, Pickles popped him in the chops with an open hand. The sound of Seth’s teeth snapping together briefly volleyed around the room.

“ Ow !” Seth twisted himself towards his brother, then looked back away with a puff.

Pickles pulled his knees to his chest and chased the not-yet soggy cereal stragglers floating around his bowl with a little tea spoon. “Yeah. Don’t call me a girl.”

Instead of letting it go and going back to his own breakfast, Seth slapped Pickles in the side of the head with a flailing arm.

“Seth! God-”

“You’re such a pussy.”

“Am not… Jeez.” Pickles grumbled. Unwilling to debate further, he got up to sit on the couch.

“I know I didn’t just hear you speak the Lord’s name in vain, Pickles! Shame on you…” Molly waltzed into the room clutching her housecoat closer around her chest. When she sipped her coffee, her glasses fogged over and her eyes went missing.

“Seth, I want you to shovel out the driveway this morning.”

“Mom!” Seth turned towards her and crossed his arms tight, hoisting his shoulders over his ears. “That’s not fair!”

“Now don’t throw a fit. I’ll give you $5.”

“But make Pickles do it!”

“He’s too short.” She cut her eyes towards Pickles and he decided to stop trying to hunt every cornflake down. “He did a terrible job last weekend- your father almost broke his back! I want you to do it.” Pickles left the room to wash out his bowl.

“Fine.”

“That’s good.” She took her glasses off and came around the couch to give her oldest a kiss on the top of his head. “Love you. I’m going to go call Aunt Elaine.”

“Love you too, Ma,” he mumbled over his soggy cornflakes, then he stared at the television.

Pickles returned as she was leaving and laid down across the sofa, minding Seth’s head and curling up in hopes that it’d stop his stomach from tossing his cereal around like a front-loading washing machine. The second he closed his eyes, he was dozing off. Almost every waking moment he wasn’t talking to someone, he was thinking about the surgery. There were too many unknowns, from the food to the other kids to the non-zero chance that the surgery would fail and he’d end up even worse. Maybe blindness would be where everything would look like a blurry shape. Or darkness. Maybe his eyes would pop or they’d scoop them out, and he’d have empty, skin-covered eyesockets like one of the neighbors’ outdoor cats. Maybe blindness would be not knowing how nauseating he’d be to the unwilling friends and family who could bear to see his mutilated face. He probably wouldn’t die if something happened, after all. He’d have to learn how to live with it.

Maybe he could be a telemarketer, since he could probably memorize where the numbers on the telephone were, if only someone could read the numbers out to him. Or, braille, there was always braille…

Can labels and money and newspapers didn’t come in braille. Maybe he’d have to live with mom and dad forever, since he knew the house.

The last thing he might ever see could be white sheets or a doctor’s face. How long would it take for him to forget what everything looked like? Last night, he’d tossed and turned and made himself dizzy suppressing sobs and using his inhaler, something that had become more and more frequent as Seth’s advent calendar counted down like a bomb.

Today could be his last day to be a normal kid. Tomorrow, he went to Milwaukee.

“Pickles, can I ask for a favor?”

Instead of brushing Seth off, Pickles always felt compelled to accept Seth’s little “deals.” Although they’d bitten him in the ass, there were a handful of times where it’d been fun, or it’d saved them both a lot of trouble… like the time Seth’s friend gave them a ride in the back of his truck to the gas station and he gave them the remnants of nitrite leather cleaner, which kept Pickles entertained for the rest of the month. But Seth would do the same for him eventually, right? That’s what mom told him. Besides, he didn’t have any big plans today.

Seth rolled his shoulders and closed his eyes. “You gotta shovel the driveway.”

“I can’t. Mom said I suck at it, remember?”

Seth leaned forward and looked Pickles in the eyes as he pulled himself tighter and tighter into a ball. “Pickles, look, you’re my brother, alright? And you can do what you gotta do. It just iced over last time- but it was perfect, just perfect before that. You’re my brother, you can do anything you want to, and so what if you did a crap job last time, ok? You can’t do everything right. But you gotta shovel the driveway.”

“You can’t make me. Mom said she wanted you to shovel the driveway.” Pickles dredged himself up and sat upright to argue, but stopped short when he saw how quickly Seth twisted around, and how his face was stuck in that still, stern look that felt almost as bad as mother’s.

“I can’t make you but you’ll be sorry, trust me, ok? You don’t want to know what I’m gonna do to you.” Seth stood up, leaving his bowl of lukewarm, used milk on the coffee table. As he walked away, he backhanded Pickles in the ear.

“Ow!”

As Pickles sat by himself, the TV’s cheerful chirp started to sound mocking and hostile. When it became unbearable and sick-feeling, he stood up, turned off the TV, and grabbed the little shooting gallery pocket game from one of the side table drawers.

“Pickles?”

“Yes, Mom?”

“Your snow suit is clean.” He’d had it taken out of commission for a few days after Seth and his friends infested their yard with every frozen dog turd they could find within a half-mile radius. And that happened only a few days after he’d become un-grounded from slamming the door when Seth chased him up the stairs for using “his” broom for broomball. With all the drama along with his asthma, he’d spent most of his weekends inside. If today was his last good day, he might as well spend it in the snow.

When he emerged from the house, he immediately heard Jonathan reciting the rules of street hockey and ran up the plowed street just in time to even out the teams. Although he wasn’t a particularly valuable player, even when he could see the ball, it was better to have another body on your side than nobody, and there was even an extra stick! He burnt the rest of the morning that way, hollering and hustling, setting his lungs on fire. The ice on the telephone wires gave them a tinsel-y sparkle in the morning sun.

He’d played a couple games before Seth and his friends replaced some of the kids who had to go eat lunch and change gloves, and at the end of a match, Seth slapped him upside the head so hard that his hat flipped off.

“So when you gonna shovel out the driveway?”

“I’m not.” Pickles shot back as he bent down and shook the snow off his hat. “Mom said-”

“I didn’t ask you what mom said, did I?” Seth grabbed the back of Pickles snowsuit and jerked it up so that Pickles would stand. The game hadn’t really stopped, but with two people arguing by one of the goals, the rest of the neighborhood boys stood around and watched the sun shine helplessly on the snow-burdened, slumping cedar trees in neighboring yards.

“I’m not gonna shovel the stupid driveway!”

The white snow sparkled with such a sincere invitation that Seth couldn’t help but kick Pickles in the back of the knees, but before he could do much of anything else Michael Jones’ mom poked her head out of her door, swathed in her own winter fleece housecoat and slippers, but with a silk scarf over her hot-combed hair. And Michael’s mom wasn’t afraid to pull out the phone book and find your parents. And if they hung up on her, she’d write them. And if she wrote them and called them and what you did in front of her house was bad enough, she’d tell Mrs. Wallace or the grocer or even the Schwann’s guy… Mrs. Jones would get you in trouble if she thought you deserved it, and not even Seth would test her this close to Christmas. At the sound of her screen door squeaking, everyone stood still.

Seth stood back, casting a shadow over Pickles as he flipped himself over. “So that’s how it’s gonna be, huh? Alright.” Without another word, he turned and left. Slowly, the game resumed, but Michael himself came outside, and he and Pickles and Rodney left the game to go sledding on trash can lids a couple streets over.

When he came back down the road, red-nosed and cold-handed, it was after lunch. He shed his boots and his snowsuit at the door, freeing his sweaty hair from his hat and flinging his gloves to the floor. Snow had managed to wiggle into the arms of his clothes, wetting his undershirt, so he went upstairs to change it while he shivered off the lingering cold in his legs and ears. Seth bounded down the stairs, shoving right past Pickles, with a pair of scissors in his hand.

The door to his room, typically wide open, was mostly closed. The inside was as dark as it usually was, but the outline of his plastic Millennium Falcon looked more like a microwave omelette maker than a blurry dinner plate on the ground. He turned the light switch on and almost gagged at the sight of it cracked in two parts, all the glued plastic joins popped-out, with shards of grey plastic spilling out of the splits. Around it lie the whole cast of Star Wars (at least, the ones Pickles had) in pieces, their arms and plastic boots scattered like they’d lain down on landmines. A couple heads were broken off, or marred by the force of two blades attempting to saw them in half.

He knelt, but he kept his breathy torment and pathetic tears in his hands. After all, they were only toys, right?

#my writing #metalocalypse fanfic #metalocalypse #pickles the drummer #preklok #metalocalypse hcs

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c0smicfern · 6 months

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in order for me to *actually* believe that i'm autistic, i need to rely on my intuition more than... you know. logic, facts, what i know about asd after *months* of research. is young fawn's intuition more credible than current fawn's months of research? fuck, dude, maybe. i have no idea anymore.

i originally had the thought when i was quite young. and then it kept happening over the years. when i got the sense that i was 'overreacting' to a sudden change or stimuli (which wasn't prompted by my environment, moreso just a gut feeling), i'd think, "it's that fucking spectre again. haunting my life." similar thing when my family would visit our cousins on my mom's side. one cousin in particular, i was especially close with growing up. idk if i feel comfortable going into detail on his traits, but i think i knew before anyone else. my mom tried to tell me that he's "ocd moreso than autistic" just a few months ago. like, no. i'm sorry, but no. idk if she & my aunt just never talked about him in that capacity, but it seems unlikely. i'm sure he has his rituals & genuine ocd symptoms, but he's literally been interested in the same video game character since we were kids. the franchise he's from is still in his most played & his avatar on his nintendo account is that character to this day. growing up with him, though, i just got this sense that, for all the distance between his experience & mine, we were the same. as i moved into middle school & started having even *more* struggles relating to or connecting with anyone, our connection actually started to make me feel resentful. wasn't his fault, and he was confused & upset when i said that i liked his brother more at that time. it was... sort of true, i guess. but only because i didn't feel that spectre looming over us in the company of his brother. in other words, i liked his brother better at the time because he was different from me. i didn't want to be reminded, not during that difficult part of my life. eventually, i got over myself & we went back to being close friends until we stopped visiting. now, i have to contend with the idea that i may have been distant from him for that period for *no fucking reason*. if we're *not* the same, then i was just needlesly cruel toward him for that part of our childhood. it was needlessly cruel, anyway, but it really served no purpose *at all* if that 'spectre' was only my imagination the whole time. it's a difficult thing to accept.

i thought *anyone* with a lived experience like mine had to be autistic before i even knew that word or what it meant. i mean, imagine "knowing" from such a young age, growing up & meeting other people like you & knowing that they were *like you* without needing to even speak. going through middle school & high school, counting the number of words you said each day & knowing that some days, that number was zero. upsetting others despite your best efforts to manage their emotions & be polite. not knowing whether you were actually being bullied or not, and realizing years later that people treated you like a freak from the moment they saw that spectre looming over you. always feeling like *normalcy* was just outside your reach, despite being able to 'see' it. watching others in an attempt to learn how to 'reach' it. despite it all, reaching the conclusion in adulthood that these experiences were just a patchwork of adhd symptoms, social anxiety, and a tendency to doubt yourself & the cruelty of others. burning out, and the quiet acceptance that kept these thoughts at bay just... fizzling out. and ultimately, knowing that the answer won't change anything for you. you've been broken either way, and you need to keep moving forward regardless.

#gonna delete these later. just need to purge the thoughts from my head.#if you don't want to know my personal life & private thoughts then get out of my diary ❤️#i don't especially love the metaphor i used here but idk how else to describe the feeling.#imagine being 7 & your brain telling you 'that one. that one's *just* like you.' wtf would you call it?#it's an almost psychic perception that i've experienced as being outside / separate from myself.#alternatively maybe i was picking up on adhd??

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xxwritemeastoryxx · 3 years

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Tales of Heroes

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Klaus Mikaelson x @mikaelson-emma

Request: Hi! Could I request a imagine/one-shot were the reader is Hayley’s sister (a hybrid) and has a child, but scarified herself to save the Mikaelson’s? She could romantically involved with Klaus, but her child isn’t his. She asks him to have him tell stories about her to the child, and one day she gets resurrected. Or it could something else! I love you writing and I am excited to see that you are taking requests! I hope you have a good day! ❤️❤️ -@mikaelson-emma Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings: Nope. Nothing I can think of.

Author’s Note: I’M OVER HERE CRYING MY EYES OUT. Like you guys have no idea how emotional this one has made me. I really do hope that at some point Emma comes in and sees this. I hope that this is everything you wanted. I freaking miss you! On another note, Welcome to another day of May Madness. I hope you guys enjoy!

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. ♥

Laughter filled the air as Hope and Ava played in Hope’s room. The sound could easily be heard anywhere throughout the compound. The two cousins playing while using up the last burst of energy they had in their systems before bed. For the first time in centuries, there was a peace that surrounded the Mikaelsons that allowed the girls to be carefree.

There was enough peace that the Mikaelson siblings didn’t have to worry about looking over their shoulders for any enemies that may be lurking in the shadows. With the two young girls, the Mikalesons believed that even more danger would be on their doorstep. But that hadn’t been the case. They were safe. They wouldn’t be hurt by the Mikaelsons’ past and that was all thanks to Emma. Without her, there wouldn’t have been the peace they were living in.

Klaus leaned against the door frame as he watched Hope run after Ava with a pillow. Ava’s laughter had been followed with a shriek as the pillow in Hope’s hand had come into contact with her. Ava swung the one she had in her hand, hoping to get Hope away for only a moment before she attacked back.

The sight itself had brought a smile to Klaus’ lips as he watched them. The bond between the two cousins had reminded him greatly of Emma and Hayley. The two girls are inseparable just as their mothers were after their own reunion. Hayley had believed she didn’t have any family left. And when she found her fraternal twin after coming to New Orleans, there was no breaking them apart.

Emma had fit easily into the family. It didn’t matter how complicated things may have become, Emma was there for her found family. She would never leave her sister in a fight and she’d make damn sure that her own daughter and niece were safe. And when it came to making a sacrifice for the girls’ safety. Emma was ready and willing to pay the price.

Just promise me one thing. Emma’s voice played in Klaus’ head as he watched the girls. That if anything ever happens to me, you’ll take care of her.

Klaus could remember telling her that he should never have to make that promise. That Emma would always be around to watch as her own daughter grew. Emma had made him promise anyways. She had even gotten Hayley to promise as well. Emma needed to be sure that her daughter was taken care of.

“Alright girls,” Hayley’s voice cut through Klaus’s memories, pulling him back to the present. “Time for bed.” Hope and Ava whined in unison the moment the words left Hayley’s lips.

“Five more minutes, Aunt Hayley?” Ava asked as she watched her Aunt look over at Klaus for a moment.

“Hayley is right.” Klaus said agreeing with her. “You both have big days tomorrow. It’d be a shame if the both of you were exhausted before the fun even began.”

For weeks the girls had been asking about taking a trip to the state fair when it came. While Klaus and even Hayley were skeptical about taking the girls there, they had been assured several times that things would be okay. That things wouldn’t go wrong just because the girls wanted to have some fun.

It was Freya that had convinced her younger brother that they should go. That they should have fun without worrying about anything. To let the girls live as normal of a life as they could from time to time. Ava may have only been a year older than Hope, but the girls were needing interactions with the outside world. Away from the teachings of spells, or self defense classes.

Klaus’s words had made the girls toss the pillows back onto Hope’s bed before turning to each other and saying goodnight. Ava ran past Klaus and Hayley as she went into the room across the hall. It caused Klaus to chuckle as he pushed himself off the doorframe.

“I got Ava.” He said as he turned and walked towards the door.

A small smile pulled at Hayley’s lips as he watched Klaus do so. For as many times Hayley had warned Emma about Klaus, they found a way to be together. After the fights, after the accusations, there was something that Emma had seen in Klaus. The same thing Klaus had seen within her. They were willing to do whatever it took to keep their family safe. To do whatever it took to keep each other safe.

Klaus had stepped up as the father figure to Ava after Emma sacrificed herself. While Hope was still his daughter and he’d do anything for her, Ava was in a sense, now his as well. For the past year, he worried for her. Stayed up with her when the nightmares would scare her. When she’d break down crying simply because she had missed her mom. Klaus was there for her. He may have not been her biological father, but with how much he had grown to care for and love Emma and Ava, Ava had become like a daughter to him.

Klaus watched as Ava climbed into bed, the moment he walked into the room. It wasn’t long before a smile tugged at his lips as she burrowed into her bed. To see so much of Emma within the young girl had caused a tinge of pain within his chest. Ava smiled at Klaus as she pulled the blanket over herself and nodded her head, signaling she was ready for her favorite story.

It was during those nights that Ava had woken up from nightmares that Klaus would tell her the tale of her Mother. It was in a way that showed how much he had loved and adored her while proving she was the hero that saved them all. It had become Ava’s favorite story. One that needed to be told each night in order to keep the nightmares at bay.

He walked over towards the bed and sat down at the edge. His hand coming to rest on her feet, making her giggle before he moved them. “You have to promise right after, you’ll go to bed.”

“I promise.” Ava brought her small hand up and made an x over her heart. “Cross my heart.”

Klaus chuckled as he shook his head slightly. “In a kingdom in a far away land, there lived a Queen. One that was loved by not only her subjects, but the family she had created. The bond between them ensured they were kept safe from any enemy that may have threatened them. The Queen was not immortal. For even the genes she carried within her blood may have made her stronger, but even the strongest warriors have their weaknesses.”

He watched as Ava’s lips pulled into a smile. “For this Queen’s weakness was her beautiful daughter. The Queen would slay those who dared entered their kingdom in hopes of taking or harming the Princess. She’d return from battle with the blood of her enemies on her body, showing that she would do anything in her power to save her child.

“Even her family would face the invaders to help the Queen. So long as the Queen was there, the family would be invincible.” Klaus had lost count of the many times Emma had helped save them. The countless times she had been there to help protect them or to take down an enemy without any hesitation as to what his past held. “It wasn’t long before a new threat arose in the Kingdom. A dark creature entered the Kingdom, taking her loved ones one by one, threatening to take their lives.

“One night, while the Princess slept, the Queen went and made a deal with a very powerful witch.” As Klaus said the words he could easily see in his mind how Emma had gotten up in the middle of the night to meet with Freya. Klaus remembered watching as she walked into Freya’s room before a spell kept him from hearing the words they spoke, or even viewing into the room from the balcony. “The deal would ensure the Princess would be safe, along with the rest of her family. But the King that had courted her, tried to stop her from making the deal.”

“You are all in danger!” Emma had yelled as she stood in front of Klaus. “I can’t just sit by and watch as you all are targeted. We almost lost your brother. What other close calls are we going to have to make before you let me help?”

“What about Ava?” He asked, trying to keep himself calm. The way they had been screaming at each other wasn’t getting them anywhere.

Emma shook her head as tears filled her eyes. “This is for her as much as it is for you and your siblings. For my sister. For our girls to be able to live without a darkness looming over them. You have to let me do this. I’ll be able to come back from this.”

“No.” Klaus said as he shook his head before moving to place his hands on the sides of her face. “A spell like this, even I know there is no coming back from it. It will break Ava.”

“You promised to take care of her.” She said as she placed her hands on top of his as they rested against her face. “Just don’t let her forget about me. Talk to her about me, about us. Because I know that is the only thing that will make this easier for her.”

He took in her words before he pulled his hands away from her. Realization hitting him. This just wasn’t her saying she was going to try and do this. This was Emma saying she had already done so. This was her saying her goodbyes. He ran his hand along his face before he turned his head away from her.

“When?” He asked a moment later as he turned to look back at her. It was as he looked into her beautiful brown eyes, that he loved so much, that he found the answer he needed.

“But he had been too late.” Klaus continued. He watched as Ava’s eyes began to close. He knew she would be asleep towards the end of the story. “No matter how much the Queen had loved the King, she knew what needed to be done. The very night the dark creature came to attack, the Queen’s family had begun to fall. Slowly each of them had been hurt by the creature. The Queen knew she’d be the next to be hurt. And once she was, the spell she had the powerful witch cast, allowed her body to absorb the dark creature.”

Ava rolled on to her side, her hands coming up under her head, her eyes closed. “Mommy saved us.”

The words were soft. To any human, they would have barely been able to hear them. But for a hybrid, they had been loud in his ears. A sad smile pulled at his lips as he watched her eyes close. “That she did.” He said before continuing the story. “The Kingdom mourned the loss of their Queen. But there was one thing the King had promised the Princess. She’d always be safe. She’d always be taken care of. And she’d be told of her mothers heroics. The Queen would never be forgotten. It was her wish for stories to be passed on about her just as the stories of legends had.”

Klaus slowly stood from his spot before he watched Ava for a moment. She was sound asleep by the time he had finished. A smile pulled at his lips as he leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “Goodnight little one.”

“You were always so great at telling her stories.”

Klaus froze at the voice. He thought for a moment that there was some kind of trick that someone dared to do on him. Because after a year, he never thought he’d hear that voice again. His memory didn’t even do it justice.

His heart sped up for a brief moment as he slowly turned towards the door. He hoped that his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. Or anyone else for that matter. But as soon as his eyes landed towards the doorway, his jaw dropped slightly.

She was there. She was standing there in the doorway with a smile on her face as she watched his reaction. Klaus could see the way her eyes slowly filled with tears as he began closing the space between them. Without a second thought, he walked quickly over to her and pulled her into his arms.

Having her press against him had told him that this wasn’t a dream. That this wasn’t someone attempting to hurt him and the little girl that slept a few feet away. Emma was home and Klaus had every intention of making sure she never left his sight again.

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amxranthiine · 3 years

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c i c a t r i z e (aragorn x reader) pt. ii

cicatrize (v.) to find healing by the process of forming scars. Pronouns: She/Her

A/N: Welcome to part two! I’ve been working on this part for three days and it was getting a little long, so I saved Weathertop for chapter three. This chapter is 2.7k (or more) words. I hope you enjoy! Warnings: Some swearing, alcohol consumption, Nazgûl, the usual. Summary: Y/n is Aragorn’s childhood best friend. However, when they got older, Y/n’s feelings towards her long time friend changed, but he is infatuated with the Evenstar. Out of heartbreak, she leaves Rivendell and sets off on her own, leaving her love and all she ever knew. When Elrond’s Council takes place, Y/n is forced back to her home and everything she ever knew.

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ Present Time Y/n POV Ale dribbled down my chin as I gulped down what seemed to be my hundredth Pint. In truth, I lost count after my... sixth? Seventh? I needed to drink away my sorrows after the day I had. I received a letter from Gandalf the Grey when the sun was at it’s peak, babbling on about the One Ring, how it was in the hands of a Hobbit named Baggins, and how I needed to make my way to the Prancing Pony in Bree as soon as possible. And, of course, that I needed to keep a look out for the Hobbit in the Prancing Pony, and bring him to Rivendell. What a way to start the day, I had only awoken not an hour prior!

Gods, I needed a drink. After the initial shock of knowing that the One Ring had indeed been found, I, not so happily, packed my few possessions into a warn out bag and went on my merry way. After leaving Rivendell almost seven decades ago, I had travelled all across Middle Earth, never staying in one place for too long. Though it’s been sixty-seven years since I left my entire life behind (in more than one way), I was still frightened- or was it ashamed? Ashamed. Yes, that was it. I was ashamed of how I left, why I left. Just leaving everything I’ve ever known because I was jealous and heartbroken. Over a guy! Only, he wasn’t just any guy. Yes, he is. I am and have been over him. Are you absolutely positive? No. Exactly. Fine, I admit! But how could I get over someone I’ve known since I learned how to walk? Not so easily, it seems. Perhaps that was why I was sulking in the Prancing Pony, downing ale after ale, trying to ignore the pure dread of having to see him again. Maybe he won’t be there? Maybe his adventures led him elsewh- My “what if’s” and “maybe’s” were cut short by a large shadow looming over me. Peering up at the owner of said shadow with the mug raised to my lips, I nearly choke at the sight. There he is, the man who has haunted my dreams for sixty-seven years. And, oh Valar, he aged like the finest Mirkwood wine. Sobering up immediately, I quickly placing the mug on the table and wipe my mouth with my sleeve, I greet him with a quiet “Hello?” Though, it sounds more like a question.

He doesn’t greet me in return, much to my pleasure. He just gestures to the seat next to me. “May I?” I numbly nod, though my eyes don’t leave him. Once he is seated, I glance down at my hands and take a deep breath. “What are you doing here, Aragorn?” My tone takes him off guard, it’s cold, hostile. As if I was talking to a stranger, which, in a way, he was. His face holds nothing but shock, with traces of hurt within the grey depths of his eyes. “Business from Gandalf,” Aragorn mumbles as he waves down a waitress. I look at him again, but this time I notice everything that’s changed about him. His hood is up, covering his eyes for all but me. His face is more defined, and there is a trace of stubble along his sharp jaw. He’s buffer, too. His muscles are prominent even under his many layers of clothing. I would be a liar if I said he didn’t look good. However, he also looked... nostalgic. Memories upon memories rushed to the front of my brain as I relived what we used to be. Oh, Mandos, I think I’m catching feelings. Again. “It’s been a while, Y/n.” I blink, looking away from him with a blush. You foolish woman, Y/n! He most definitely knows you were checking him out. Clearing my throat, I simply say “Yeah,” and look around for the Hobbit I’m supposed to be watching for. I could his gaze burning into the side of my head, watching my intently. “You left without saying goodbye,” he mentions with an edge to his tone. I sigh and close my eyes, I really didn’t want to have this conversation right now. Or ever. Never would be good. “Didn’t think you’d care.” I said, shrugging. Good going, Y/n. Is that really the only intelligent thing you could come up with in that tiny head of yours? In my peripheral vision I see him tense, and his eyes widen considerably. What did he expect me to say? That I was sorry for leaving all those years ago? That I was so desperately in love with him that the sight of him embracing Arwen Undómiel was too much to bear? No, my pride could never admit that, especially not now. “You didn’t think I would care? Y/n, are you ins-” Aragorn starts with what sounds like a hiss. I hold my finger up to shush him as four Hobbits walk into the Inn, soaked to the bone. The leader, a tall-ish Hobbit with curly black hair, approaches the bar and I can practically feel the evil radiating off of him in waves. I knew he was the one I was looking out for, he was Baggins. Aragorn gives me a ‘we will talk about this later’ look, yet still follows my gaze. His body language changes drastically when he spots the small men and I instantly know we were sent here for the same reason. “Gandalf sent us on the same quest, it seems.” I mumble as my eyes follow the Hobbit’s every move. Something was... off about them, ignoring the presence of the Ring. They seemed nervous, as though they were waiting for someone. Baggins, or Underhill, as he was called, looked exhausted. The true weight of the Ring was finally making itself known. As the four sat down at a table in the middle of the room, my eyes wandered over Underhill’s companions. The blonde next to him was on the bigger side, he had unruly curls as all Hobbits do, and he seemed the to the more cautious one out of his companions. The two across from him carried a carefree and youthful energy, both with almost golden hair. The blonde one looked around the room with distrust before his eyes landed on Aragorn and I. We were watching them carefully, Aragorn had his pipe in his mouth, and I held my mug snuggly within my fingers. I suppose our watchful gazes set off alarms in the small Hobbit’s head. He elbowed Underhill and whispered something to him, nodding his head towards the two of us. Underhill eyed us, I could see the suspicion and fear growing within him as he took in our appearances. Suddenly, he gestured to Butterbur as he passed by, and over the loudness of the Inn, I barely heard him ask, “The two in the corner, who are they?” Butterbur glanced at us warily before replying, “They’re two of them Rangers; dangerous folk they are, wandering the wilds. What their right names are, I’ve never heard, but round here they’re known as Strider and Randir.” Underhill looked at us again, “Strider and Randir,” he seemed to whisper as he nervously played with something under the table. Time seemed to slow as the younger one of the golden haired Hobbits seemed to yell for all the world to hear, “Baggins? Sure I know a Baggins!” Every pair of eyes flew to the young Hobbit, but he seemed oblivious for he kept speaking. “He’s over there, Frodo Baggins!” He pointed to Underhill, “He’s my second cousin, once removed, on his mother’s side and my third cousin, twice removed on his father’s side... if you follow me.” I sighed deeply and watched as Frodo raced to the golden haired boy, gripping his arm and shouting, “Pippin!” “Steady on, Frodo!” Pippin says, then pushes Frodo away. Frodo stumbled back, losing his balance on one of the many pairs of feet crowded around him. He falls, the Ring flying out of his pocket as gravity takes control. Aragorn and I watch with steady eyes, we could not let anyone near the small, childlike creatures. You never know who may be a spy, waiting, like a jaguar, for the precise moment to pounce. A small hand reaches out to grab the evil jewel, but it just slips through his fingers a moment too late. I wince as Frodo hits the ground, a loud “oomph!” leaving his mouth at impact. Though, my eyes never leave the jewel that seems to be calling my name, tugging at my heartstrings, as it made it’s graceful down a child sized finger. The owner of said finger was none other than Frodo, and the entire Inn gasped in horror as he vanished from sight. There is complete silence for a moment, and Aragorn and I jolt up, preparing ourselves for the chaos that is to come. And chaos it is. Excited, and slightly horrified, chatter explodes throughout the Prancing Pony. I look to each of the Hobbits once more. The blonde hobbit is as pale as a ghost, looking deathly ill with panic. Pippin, who seemed to realize his folly quickly, sobers up quickly. The unnamed one seems to be a mix of the two, a look of complete and utter bewilderment clear as day on his features. Aragorn and I spot Frodo as he reappears in a dark corner, shaking like a leaf and as pale as the wraiths that hunt him. Hidden in the shadows, we stride over to him, unseen by all in the Inn. The man reaches him first, however, and grabs Frodo by the cloak and drags him up the stairs to a dark room. “You draw far too much attention to yourself.. Mr. Underhill.” Aragorn hisses. I roll my eyes at his actions. “You could have been a little kinder to the poor boy, look at him! He looks like he’s seen Sauron himself.” I point out with a small grin, but it vanishes in a second with the look Frodo gives me. It was wide eyed, portraying the terrifying truth in my words. He had, indeed, seen Sauron himself. Aragorn ignores my statement and draws the attention back to himself as he looms over Frodo. “What do you want?” The quiver in the Hobbit’s voice is prominent when he asks this. Estel turns away for a moment to put out the bright and blazing candles. “A little more caution from you, that is no trinket you carry.” He replies. “I carry nothing,” Frodo lies. I watch the situation with interest, though I say nothing. The terror of the Ring was clearly effecting him, and having Aragorn and I practically kidnap him was likely not helping. “Indeed?” The taller man hums. “I can avoid being seen if I wish. But to disappear entirely? That is a rare gift.” He states as he finally reveals his face and the mess that is his hair. I gape at him as I take in his aged features, this time I really inspect him. His grey eyes, his lips, his hair... He was seemingly flawless. Stop it, you stupid girl! You have a task at hand! Shaking my head to clear those impeccably true thoughts, I barely hear Frodo whisper, “Who are you?” “Are you frightened?” This time, it was I who spoke, bringing the attention of both males to me. I say those words with a slight edge to my tone, and it could sound like mockery if we weren’t currently in a dire situation. Frodo looks me dead in the eyes. “Yes,” he says honestly, I almost laugh. “Not nearly frightened enough,” I uttered lowly, and narrowed my eyes. “We know what hunts you.” Aragorn adds, making me grimace. The Nazgûl were nasty, terrible creatures who should have stayed dead and rotting in their tombs. A noise from the corridor bursts our eerie bubble, and the three of us jump towards the door. In come three determined Hobbits carrying a chair, a candlestick and fists as weapons. I had to admit, their bravery was to be commended. The blonde one bellowed, “Let him go or I’ll have you, Longshanks!” I couldn’t help it, but I burst into laughter, giggles spewing from my mouth as I recounted what just happened. Maybe it was the ale, or maybe the fact that I haven’t spent more than thirty minutes in another persons presence in sixty-seven years, but that comment was the funniest shit I’ve heard in a long time. Everyone in the room turned towards me with bewilderment and confusion written all over them, making me laugh even harder. I had tears rolling down my face and my cheeks and stomach hurt from my sudden chortling. After a few moments, my hysterics died down a bit, demoting themselves to light chuckles every so often. “I- I’m sorry,” I babbled. “Please, go on,” I smiled and waved my hand in a dismissive manner. The five men looked utterly disturbed and puzzled, but it was Aragorn who finally said something, though it was quite dark and ominous. “You have a stout heart, little Hobbit, but that alone won’t save you.” He turned to Frodo, “You can no longer wait for the Wizard, Frodo. They are coming.” After that we quickly devised a plan, and quietly made our way to the Hobbits room and stuffed pillows under the sheets to make it look like little people sleeping. Then, we grabbed all of their packs and brought them to Aragorn’s room, and we waited for the inevitable. It had to have been two hours of silence before a single word was said by any of us. The Hobbits had already gone to bed, snuggled side by side on the large mattress. Aragorn and I sat across from each other by the window, watching for any sign of the dark servants. I was playing with my dagger, twirling it between my fingers and stabbing it into the wood of the window sill, lost in my many degrading thoughts. “Why did you leave?” Aragorn finally asked. I looked up to see him watching me intently. I stilled, dumbfounded. Out of all the things he could have said, he asked that? Gracious me, we are supposed to be watching out for the Black Riders, not sharing sob stories! Trying to think of a semi-intelligent, semi-vague answer, I finally came up with “My heart led me elsewhere.” It wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t the truth. Before he could respond, however, I spot four Nazgûl riding into Bree. “Aragorn,” I call out and point to them as they make their way inside. The air thickens as heavy footsteps come up the stairs. I hold my breath, as does Aragorn, even the Hobbits seemed to stop breathing. Please, Valar, let us go unnoticed. It seems fate was feeling generous, the Ringwraiths strut right into the trap. And they stab. Over and over again, right into the pillows we set up just for them. I wince when I realize that it have very well been the Hobbits in place of those pillows if we hadn’t done something. Suddenly a deadly screech fills the air, followed by three others. No doubt they discovered the trap, and were positively pissed. I listen intently as they fled the Inn, and as they mounted their black steeds and left Bree, I hear multiple identical screams in the distance. My shoulders drop and I instantly breathe a sigh of relief. It worked. Our plan worked. “What are they?” Frodo’s quiet voice questions from behind me. I look back to see him wide awake and seated on the edge of the bed. “They were once Men. Great Kings of Men. Then Sauron the deceiver gave to them Nine Rings of Power. Blinded by their greed, they took them without question, one by one falling into darkness. Now they are slaves to his will.” Aragorn answers grimly. Sensing that he wasn’t going to say any more, I add on to his statement. “They are the Nazgûl, Ringwraiths, neither living or dead. At all times they feel the presence of the Ring, drawn to the power of the one...” I trailed off. Our two voices fill the air in unison as we conclude, “They will never stop hunting you.” ⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ TAGLIST @entishramblings (please tell me using my ask box if you want to be tagged in future chapters)

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imaginationintowords · 3 years

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Folklore [song series]

this is me trying

Modern Day AU! Steve Rogers x OC!Reader; Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff

Plot: Inspired by Taylor Swift’s new album folklore. The story follows the timeline of Bucky and Elizabeth’s life throughout the years.

word count: 3592

[a/n: I’m so sorry that it’s taken me so long to update this and my other story. i’ve been busy with school and work. thank you for your continued patience and support]

previous part

Series Masterlist

Age: 20 Year: Dec. 2014 Location: Brooklyn, NY

"How have you been James?”

Bucky looks out the window to his right. Hands grasped together in his lap as he sits on the dark green sofa across from the woman he's been seeing for the last 5 months.

He ponders the question, making sure to answer it honestly. He looks back at her giving her his full attention again.

"Good," he answers truthfully, a small smile planted on his face. Life has been good. School is going incredibly well. My job is going better than I could've imagined. Really learning a lot."

"How are things going with Natasha?" The older lady asks.

“Great. Really great," Bucky says with a slightly bigger smile.

"Good. I'm glad to hear that," she smiles back, proud to the see progress James has made since his first visit moths ago.

After the blow up he and Steve had, Bucky fell into a depressive state. He refused to talk to anyone about what had happened. It wasn't until his younger sister Rebecca came to talk to him:

"I get you don't want to talk to any of us about what happened last week," she said as Bucky laid in bed looking out the window, his back facing her, "But you can't just stay in bed, hiding for the world. Starving yourself isn't going to solve anything.

"Sulking is only going to make you worse. It's not healthy, Buck. We're all worried. Ma is incredibly worried. She's barely been eating. I hear her wandering the house at all hours, because she can't sleep."

"You don't want to talk to us, fine. But you need to talk to someone. If not for yourself, but for Ma. Please," she begs, before leaving Bucky alone to ponder what she said.

He knew he wasn't coping the healthy way. He hadn't realized how much he was affecting his family by shutting down. The last thing he wanted to do was worry his mother. So he got himself up, took a shower, ate breakfast with his family. They were surprised to see him come down, but tried not to draw any extra attention to it. Rebecca gave him an understanding nod, which he reciprocated. After breakfast, he began his research. He decided to listen to Rebecca's advice and find someone to talk to someone to help him make sense of what is going on in his mind.

And that's how he ended up in Dr. Abraham's office.

"Have you contacted Steve yet?" She asks.

"No," he answered fiddling with his fingers, "I feel embarrassed about the way I reacted."

"That's normal, James," she assured him, "But in order to repair any damage that's been cost, you need to talk to Steve. To move forward. From what you've told me he's a very understanding person. I'm sure once you've apologized and explain to him the steps you've taken to help your mental health, I'm sure he'd be willing to accept you back into his life."

"I'm not so sure," he looked down at his hands.

"You won't know until you've tried. Listen, I'm not here to tell you what to do or what not to do. I'm just here to help you navigate your thoughts a little better. In a more healthy way. If you're really serious about living a more healthier mental life, I think you should talk to him. You don't want to really throw this lifelong friendship away, do you?"

"No, I don't," he shakes his head.

"Good. Remember to be honest," she tells him, "Vulnerability isn't a bad thing. Your feelings aren't a nuisance. it's how you handle them is what matters. I'm not saying you have to talk to him as soon as you walkout of here. I just want you to start making the notion of doing so. Our time is just about up, how about we do this. Some homework for the week.

"I want you to write a letter to Steve. Bring it in next week, you don't have to read it. But I would like to discuss it. What do you say?"

"Okay, I could do that," he agreed.

Christmas week

Steve and Elizabeth flew back home a few days before Christmas. They put their bags in the trunk of their rental car.

The car ride was silent for awhile, both tired after a long flight, now sitting in traffic on their way back to their parents' place. This would be their first time back to Brooklyn since the whole Bucky situation. The road trip back to California was fun, but there was a looming sadness over Steve. It's not like he regrets standing up to Bucky he doesn't. He just wishes thing would've played out differently. He really wished Bucky would've talked to him before he left back to California.

"How are you feeling about being back?" Elizabeth asks, while they sat in traffic.

"I don't know," Steve sighs, "Feels weird going back home and not talking to Bucky."

"Maybe you should try calling him. It's been a few months. I'm sure he'd be willing to hear you out," she said, rubbing his right arm.

"I don't want to push him," Steve said through gritted teeth, his grip on the steering wheel getting tighter.

Bucky had been a touchy subject the last few months. During the first month Elizabeth would ask Steve if he'd heard from him, the answer always being no, followed by Steve shutting down. After that Elizabeth stopped asking, noticing how much it was affecting Steve, but the constant reminder of it wasn't helping. She knew that if Bucky ever did call, Steve would tell her. The only thing she could do was be patient and be there for Steve whenever he needed her.

The holidays kept everyone busy. On Christmas Eve. Steve spent it with Elizabeth's family at her grandma's house. Elizabeth found herself watching Steve play with her younger cousins, she couldn't help but giggle when they roped him into a tea party. She found herself imagining a future where Steve would do the same with their own children. She quickly shook the daydream away. Reprimanding herself a little for even thinking about kids at their young age.

On Christmas morning Elizabeth and Steve spent it with his parents. It was a nice peaceful day just lounging around in their pajamas. For dinner, Elizabeth's parents went over to have dinner at the Rogers' house. It was a nice little send off dinner for their parents who were leaving for Mexico to spend the New Years for a couples' getaway.

Elizabeth and Steve were heading to the Hamptons to spent NYE with Wanda, Thor, Loki, and Scott. They had planned to have a nice, peaceful trip.

While Steve and Elizabeth were at the Hamptons, Bucky and Natasha were spending their NYE at his family's beach cottage in Port Washington.

They were cuddled on the couch surrounded by take out containers, watching the New Years Eve special waiting for midnight to happen.

Bucky got up about 15 minutes to midnight to grab something from the kitchen. He walked back into the room with a new bottle of champagne and two champagne flutes.

"Got some champagne," he said holding it up for Natasha to see.

"Um," Natasha awkwardly shifted in her seat, "Actually about that."

Bucky looked at Nat confused, putting the bottle and flutes down on the coffee table before sitting back down next to her.

"What's wrong" he asked, grabbing the tv remote to mute the tv, and give Natasha his full undivided attention.

"So there's something I haven't told you," she says looking down at her fidgeting fingers.

"You're worrying me Nat," Bucky said, grabbing her hands to help ease her nerves

She looked up to meet his worry filled eyes.

"I'm pregnant," she announced.

Bucky eyes widen at her announcement, instantly dropping her hands. The look on her face showing she was telling the truth.

"How is that possible?" He asks in disbelief, "We've been so careful. We use double the protection. Condoms and you're on the pill."

"Actually about that," she nervously shifted under his intense gaze, "I haven't been on birth control in a little over two months."

"What?" Bucky yelled, quickly rising from his seat, "What do you mean you haven't been on birth control in a little over two months?"

"I got off of it," she shrugged trying to play it off, "It's my body and I can do what I want with it. And I just wanted to give my body a break, I've been on the pill since I was 15."

"I get it's your body, Natasha, I'm all for you doing whatever you want," he stresses, "but you should've told me. I'm your boyfriend, we have sex frequently. You should've at least had the respect of your sexual partner, letting him know that you were no longer on birth control. So in that case I could've been a tad more careful."

"We were using condoms," she half heartedly defended herself.

"They aren't 100% effective Natasha," he gripped his hair, in complete disbelief over this entire conversation, "You even know that. That also doesn't defend yourself for not telling me. You should've told me."

"I'm sorry. It's not like I was planning for this to happen," she yelled.

Bucky just stared at her like she just grew two heads. How is she not freaking out, he thought. They were clearly way too young for this. Which is why they took precautionary measures.

After a few moments of silence Natasha spoke up, "I'm keeping the baby."

Bucky didn't know what to say. He felt the room closing in on him. He started having a hard time catching his breath.

"James," Natasha quietly said, getting up to check on him. He raised his hand, silently telling her to stay where she's at.

He headed for the back door, the house felt too suffocating for him. He walked through the the small yard to the gate that led to the beach. Stumbling around.

To a stranger they would just think he's drunk. In reality he was just having a panic attack.

It was all too much. His mind was racing.

She's pregnant. With a baby. My baby. I'm going to have a kid. I'm going to be a dad. I'm not ready to be a dad. My dad was shit. God I can't be like my dad. I'm not ready for all of this.

He put his hands on his knees, hunched over trying to catch his breath. But he just couldn't. He did the only thing he could think of. He pulled out his phone and dialed the only person he knew would help.

Steve and Elizabeth were laughing with their friends, waiting for the countdown to begin. Steve felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He moved his shoulder off of the back of the couch, where Elizabeth was cuddled up against.

He pulled his phone out and his heart dropped at the name that appeared. He quickly got up and walked out of the living room and upstairs to the room where he was staying in for the week.

Wanda raised her eyebrow at Elizabeth, who just shrugged her shoulders, equally as confused.

"Bucky?" Steve answered the phone, closing the door behind him. He could hear Bucky hyperventilating on the other side.

"Steve," he tried to get out.

"Buck, what's wrong?" Steve asked, pressing the phone even closer to his ear the sound of everyone downstairs counting down to midnight.

"Steve, I-," Bucky was struggling to get out.

"Buck, please try to calm down," Steve stressed, "Inhale, hold it for a few seconds and then exhale. You need to calm down. I can't help you, if I can't understand you."

Bucky tried his best to calm himself down, with Steve talking him through it.

"Now, can you explain to me what's wrong?" Steve asked, hearing Bucky's breathing leveling out more.

"I-I'm not re-ready Steve," Bucky stutters, sniffling his nose.

"It's okay take your time, I'm here whenever you're ready."

"No, it's Natasha.”

"What's Natasha? Is she okay?" Steve questioned, getting more concerned.

"Yes, she's fi-ine," he stuttered again, trying to say the words.

"Where are you Buck?" Steve asked, looking around for his shoes and keys.

"I'm at the beach cottage."

"I'm in the Hamptons. Is there any way you can meet me back at my place?"

"Yeah, I think I can," Bucky said a bit more calmer now.

"Okay, I'll see you soon."

When midnight struck Elizabeth went upstairs to check on Steve, making sure everything was okay. She could hear him on the phone talking to Bucky, trying to calm him down. She waited outside of the door to give them some privacy.

Twenty minutes later Wanda went to go check on them, to find Elizabeth sitting on the floor.

"Is everything okay?" She whispered.

"I don't know," she answered, "I'm waiting for Steve. You can head back down, I'll be down shortly."

"Okay. We're here if you guys need anything," Wanda said before walking back down.

After another 25 minutes Elizabeth heard Steve hang up the phone. She softly knocked on the door, and let herself in. She walked in to see Steve frantically going around the room collecting his things.

"Steve is everything okay?"

"It's Buck. He called me while he was having a panic attack. Something about Natasha," he tells her.

"Is she okay?"

"I think so. I was able to calm him down. I need to get back home," he said putting his things in his suitcase.

"Okay. I completely understand. Do you want me to go with you for the drive?" She asked.

"I don't want you to have to cut your time here short," he says, feeling guilty for bringing this on her.

"Steve, something is clearly going on with Bucky. I want you to go to him, but maybe it's best if I drove. I haven't had a drink in hours, and you seem too frantic. Please let me help," she pleaded, placing her hand on his stopping him.

Steve looked up and noticed the worry on Elizabeth's face.

"Okay," he gave in, "We'll need to leave as soon as we can."

Elizabeth nodded, quickly grabbing her weekender bag and start shoving things in. If they forgot anything's he knew Wanda would bring it back.

They said their quick goodbyes and were on the road within 5 minutes, with Elizabeth behind the wheel and Steve fidgeting in the passenger seat.

Bucky took a few minutes to himself on the beach, trying to make sure his anxiety was at rest before he headed back inside. When he entered the house, Natasha shot up from her seat.

"Happy New Years," she awkwardly said, trying to cut the obvious tension.

"Umm," Bucky scratched his head looking everywhere but at Natasha, "We need to leave."

"What?"

"I mean, you can stay if you want and I'll pick you up tomorrow," he rephrased, "But I can't stay here. I need to go. Steve is meeting me at his house."

"Steve?" She was taken back by that mention, not expecting to hear Bucky say his name. He hasn't mentioned Steve in months.

"Yeah, I called him," Bucky says rubbing the back of his neck.

"Well that's good right?"

"Yeah, listen. I really need to go, so are you going to stay or come with me?"

"To see Steve?"

"No. I would drop you off at your place," he tells her, "I'm seeing Steve alone."

"Will she be there?"

Natasha didn't really know exactly why Steve and Bucky weren't talking, at first. Then she heard that Steve and Elizabeth were dating, and it all made sense. The only person that could tear Bucky and Steve apart. She never told Bucky that she knew. Figured it wasn't worth the fight. Especially not now when she was carrying his child.

To an outsider it might seem like she got pregnant on purpose, but that wasn't the case. She knew they were too young for this, at least that's what she thought when she first found out about the pregnancy a week ago. But now that she's sat with it she's taking it as a sign that this is meant to happen. She's just really hoping that Bucky would see it, if not now but eventually.

"Listen, Natasha, I don't have time for this," he looks her in the eyes, "Are you coming or not?"

"I'll get my bag," she remarked with a snark tone, walking passed him to their shared room.

A couple of hours later Bucky was pulling up in front of the Rogers' house. 2:15 am read the clock in his car. He looked to his right, out the passenger side window to see a dark figure sat on the front steps of the house.

Bucky took one last breath before exiting the vehicle.

As soon as he opened the front gate Steve stood up from where he was sat on the stairs.

Once Bucky approached him both young men threw their arms around each other. Gripping each other tightly, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall. They stayed like that for awhile. Relishing in the comfort of being back in each other's arms. Their silent fight no longer important. All they knew in that moment was everything was going to be okay, because no matter what they'll always have each other.

Steve walked into his parents' living room holding two mugs of coffee. As he rounded the couch, he handed one to Bucky.

"Sorry, if I ruined any of your plans," Bucky apologized, "Tell Elizabeth I'm sorry for taking you away."

'Buck, don't worry about it," Steve waved him off, "She completely understands. And truth be told, I wasn't necessarily feeling in the New Year's mood."

"Yeah," Bucky sighs.

"Do you want to talk about what happened tonight?" Bucky nods his head, placing the coffee mug on the coffee table in front of him. He shifted his body to the left to face Steve.

"She's pregnant," he announces.

"What?" Steve asked, not expecting that to be the reason, he quickly placed his mug next to Bucky's.

"Yeah, my reaction exactly," Bucky said.

"What? How?"

"Apparently Natasha hasn't been on the pill in a couple of months," Bucky explains, "And even though we always used condoms, they aren't exactly 100% effective."

"Did you know she wasn't on the pill?"

"Nope," Bucky tells him, "If I knew I wouldn't been a bit more cautious."

"So she told you she was pregnant?" Steve said getting back to it.

"Yeah. She was so nonchalant about it. Like it was no big deal," Bucky stressed,

"How is she just so calm. We're not prepared for this. I'm not ready for this Steve. I can't be a dad. I don't even know how to be a decent human being."

"That's not true Buck," Steve disagreed.

"Come on Steve, we haven't talked in months, and we both know it's not because you didn't try," Bucky says, "I was so caught up in my own jealousy. And selfishness, that I never even considered your feelings or Elizabeth's. And I don't think I can ever make it up to you for treating you like you're nothing to me."

"You were hurt," Steve tried to excuse.

"Doesn't excuse the way I behaved," Bucky says, "I know that now."

"I've been seeing a therapist," Bucky informs him, "I never realized how much my mental health was taking a toll on those around me. So after our fight, I found someone to talk to. To work through the shit that's going on in my mind."

"How's that been going?" Steve asked.

"Good," Bucky gives a half smile, "Really good. She's good. I've realized a lot about myself that I didn't know. Working through all the issues I've had with my father leaving."

"That's good Buck. I'm proud of you, truly," Steve beamed, patting Bucky on the shoulder.

"I really am sorry for the way I behaved," Bucky repeated again.

"Buck, you really don't have to apologize again," Steve told him.

"I need to Steve," he said, "I can't believe I acted that way. I should've been happy for you and Elizabeth. I'm glad you two have each other. Seriously. I couldn't imagine her with anyone better, same goes for you. I won't cause any more issues for you two. It's not worth not having you in my life. You're my brother Steve, and I don't want to miss anything."

"Thanks, Buck. It really means a lot to me to hear that," Steve smiles, "Because I don't want to miss anything in your life also."

"Yeah, especially now," he says, the reality of why they're there dawning back.

"How are you feeling now about the baby?"

"I don't know, man," Bucky shakes his head, "I'm afraid I'm going to screw this up, like everything else."

"But now you're working on that," Steve reminds him, "And you're not going to be doing this alone. You have people who are always going to be there. I may be in California now, but I'm just a phone call away. You're not alone. But you do have to try Buck. That's all that you can ever do. Try your best, no one's asking you to be perfect, but as long as you're trying your best, that's what's important."

Age: 21 Year: 2015

The sounds of a baby crying woke Bucky up from his sleep in the early depths of the morning. He quietly and quickly got out of bed, making his way to the small New York kitchen to make a bottle.

He walked into the small nursery where the two-month-old baby wailed from hunger.

"It's okay," Bucky shushed gently, picking up the small baby, "Daddy's here."

He adjusted the small baby in his arms before placing the bottle in the baby's mouth.

"There you go," he encouraged the small one, as soon as he heard the sounds of the baby drinking.

Bucky sat down on the chair in the corner of the room, opposite of the crib. He just stared as the newborn drank their bottle, while simultaneously falling asleep. Even though he was completely exhausted, he had never felt more happier. More at peace with where his life was at.

As long as he kept trying his best, he knows he can do this for the rest of his life.

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heartbrokenct · 3 years

Text

without you - jjh

pairing idol!jung jaehyun x reader

genre fluff + the slightest bit of angst

word count 5.7k (i know)

warnings get ur tish ready b, this is-...

summary Jaehyun is sent to the US for a music study, but what he doesn’t expect is to leave with a lot more than just music theory.

a/n i was going to make this a multi-part thing just so i could keep it short but i figured why not make it one huge fic. anyway, pls lmk if you enjoy this!

“Oh, come on, loser. It’ll be great! Besides, what is one small blind date going to do? Nothing, exactly! So get dressed and do whatever, and be ready to go at 7.” Your friend rambled on the other side of the phone, and you rolled your eyes.

“How in the hell do you always manage to convince me to make the dumbest decisions?” You say, slightly annoyed. Apparently one of your cousin's friends was “on the market” and of course your cousin decided to make plans for you and this friend of theirs without even asking you beforehand. Hell, you didn’t even know what this "friend" looked like. After a few more minutes of your cousin desperately getting you to agree, you laughed and hung up, realising the time was just past 4pm, and the date was in only 3 hours.

Quickly jumping into the shower, you heard your phone ringing again, and assuming it was your cousin, back to bother, you ignored it and got busy getting clean and fresh. After the shower came the skincare routine, as usual, and after that the terrifying choice of “what to wear on a first date with a stranger” loomed over you as you stared at the numerous possible outfits in your closet. Sighing, you start to yank things off hangers and try them on, twirling in the mirror and doing a few greeting motions, trying to gauge what you’d look like. You caught sight of yourself as you were taking off a top, and noticed just how great you looked, instantly getting a boost of confidence.

You checked your phone quickly and noticed a missed call and a few texts from an unknown number, so you unlocked it and took a closer look.

#### : Hey, this is Jaehyun. I got your number from your cousin, they mentioned that we should probably decide on where to go but if you don’t mind, I made some reservations at this restaurant.

#### : Address.

#### : Does 7pm sound okay?

You checked the time stamp on the message, and gasp. He’d messaged you almost an hour and a half ago, so you quickly typed a few messages in response, and hoped that he wouldn’t be too upset. And you hadn’t even gotten the chance to set your phone down when it dinged again, and another message popped up on the screen.

Blind-date guy : Oh wow, I was beginning to think you were standing me up before the date even began.

Blind-date guy : I’m just joking! Please don’t stand me up again, I truly can’t go through the night again with 5 waiters giving me sympathy pats on the back.

At that, you let out a small laugh, and wonder suddenly if he was some creep who just emanated those vibes. Honestly, leave it up to your family to prank you like that. They mentioned he was some sort of celebrity in Korea, but was here in the states studying music.

Blind-date guy : Was that too much info? That was definitely too much info… Hopefully I’ll see you tonight!

A smile graced your features, and you gave him an affirmative response before frantically turning towards the closet with a rather worried look. The address he had sent you was of a pretty upscale restaurant, and you weren’t sure if you had anything nice enough to wear. Plus, it was almost 40 minutes away from your place, which meant almost an hour and a half with the traffic in your city. You sighed, and double checked the time. Almost 6pm. Screaming, you decided on something elegant but also pretty casual, and grabbed your favorite pair of shoes to match. After one last look over in the mirror, you snapped a pic and sent it to your cousin, who called you while you were rushing to your car to tell you just how great you looked.

“Jaehyun’s going to be drooling all over you. He loves that fashion style, and the fact that you just look so exquisite… yeah hopefully you wore something nice underneath too!” They quipped, and you gasped, laughing and telling them off, before thanking them quickly and hanging up.

Almost 75 minutes later, you got to the address Jaehyun had sent you and you marveled at the exterior of the building. It looked so wonderful, and the smell of the food emanating from inside only reminded you of how hungry you were. Rushing inside, you went up to the hostess, and said you were here under a reservation for Jaehyun. She smiled, giving you a knowing look before leading you to a table near the back where it was more quiet.

You knew who he was even before the hostess motioned you to the right table. He just looked kingly, and his presence seemed to draw everyone’s attention all at once. His face looked a bit nervous, but as soon as he looked at you, it seemed to drain from his face and was quickly replaced with awe. His eyes looked up and down your body and suddenly you felt the need to hide from his piercing gaze. He stood, and nodded a thank you to the hostess, then came around the table and took out your chair, allowing you to sit before tucking it in slightly.

“Hi-ello...Hello.” He said, his voice coming out a bit softer than he expected, and you stifled a laugh.

“Hi, I’m Y/n. It’s really lovely to meet you Jaehyun.” You said, and sent him a warm smile. His face seemed to go a bit red and he cleared his throat, trying a greeting again.

“Hello Y/n. You look amazing; it’s likewise very lovely to meet you.” A short pause, and he continued, “My friend told me a lot about you, but they didn’t mention just how attractive you are. Well, not attractive- I mean yes attractive but- Like- Y'know-” He stammered, and lifted a hand to run through his hair, and somehow managed to poke his eye slightly. He let his hand drop to the table and he laughed. You let out the laugh you’d been holding and joined his, reaching over the table to grab his nervous hands softly.

“Thank you, please don’t hurt yourself trying to compliment me.” You joked, and paused to check out the menu as the waiter came to take your drink order. After getting over the original awkwardness and choosing a meal, the both of you fell into a comfortable conversation ranging from your careers to deep philosophical questions. You picked up on the fact that he seemed to be really proud about his career as an idol in Korea, and how he had always wanted to become a singer. His eyes lit up as he described a bit of what it was like, before he asked you about your job, and passions.

You barely noticed when the food was placed in front of you, or when the other patrons all looked at you both talking with knowing looks in their eyes, or even when the water came by with the bill. You could only focus on this wonderfully interesting man in front of you, who was surprisingly deeper than his very apparent good looks. The waiter came by to see if the bill was ready, and the both of you stopped your conversation, and then half argued about who would foot the bill. He refused to even let you see the total cost, so in the end, you had let him win. He went to reach for his wallet before asking you another question which again distracted you from the bill and as the waiter made his second appearance, Jaehyun quickly (and rather proudly) tucked his card into the leather folder all while giving the waiter an apologetic smile. You watched him, your head tilted to one side and a soft smile played on your lips as his dimples made their comeback on his face. He turned to you and then grabbed a hold of his drink, making eye contact with you over the rim.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He asked, and you cleared your throat, shaking your head.

“Oh… Just admiring from afar.” You said, and he seemed to get a tad flustered. You let out a laugh through your nose, and the waiter came by with Jaehyun’s card.

“How much was the dinner? It wasn’t too much was it?” You ask again, and he shakes his head.

“I’m the one who made the reservation so I gladly paid for it. Don’t worry about it at all, okay?” He said, in a soft tone, and stood coming around to your side of the table and holding out his hand.

“Shall we?” He said, and you raised your eyebrows while putting your hand into his. He gripped it as he led you out of the restaurant and then stopped outside, looking up at the sky. You checked your phone, and saw the time read 11:17pm.

“Already?” You mumbled out loud subconsciously, but Jaehyun caught it.

“Already what?” He said, and looked at you, peering down at the screen of your phone. He noted the time, and sighed.

“Ah, did I keep you too long? If you’re taking public transit or a cab home, let me drive you. Since it’s late.” He said, and raised his eyebrows waiting for a response. You smirked, and rummaged around your belongings before producing your keys, and you jangled them in front of his face.

“I’ve got a ride, but thank you. It’s been a wonderful evening. Everything and more.” You said, a smile plastered on your face. He gave you one of his own, dimples and all, and you melted.

“Well good. If you’d like… maybe we could do this again? I’ll be in the states for another few months, for my music study.” He said, and you nodded, suddenly hit with the fact that he was some celebrity, but you hadn't seen a single crazed fan anywhere tonight. Nonetheless, you said your goodbyes, and gave him a hug before walking to your car. You missed the way he stared at you as you walked away and smiled to himself. He missed your creased brow as you wondered if it was even worth pursuing him.

A few dates and three months later, you were sprawled out on Jaehyun’s couch after a long day at your job. He was currently in the shower, leaving your eyes to roam around. The last time you’d been here you hadn’t really stopped to look around, and as those thoughts flooded to the front of your mind, you felt your face heating up. Suddenly the shower turned off, and you straightened up, trying to push the memories out of your mind, as a half clothed Jaehyun walked around into the living area.

“Hey, stranger, long time no see.” He said, walking over and leaving a soft but chaste kiss on your lips. You smiled at him and stood, using one finger to push him away by his chest.

“Hey yourself, stranger, I suggest you get dressed before we get really well acquainted with one another.” You said, and your eyes flicked down to the edge of the towel that was currently the only thing wrapped around him. He smirked and tried to pull you closer to him, and just as your lips were about to connect, his phone rang. He sighs and lets his head drop, and apologises before quickly picking up the phone.

“Yes, Hello?” He said into the phone, and suddenly his back tensed. You frowned, looking at his suddenly stiff muscles, and wanted to reach out to comfort him but something in your gut told you to hold off. He huffed angrily into the phone and let his head fall back, looking up at the ceiling. He finished his call, and turned to you with an upset look on his face. You pouted and he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“An emergency came up. I have to fly back to Korea early.” He said, dejectedly.

“How much earlier?” You ask, afraid to ask. Truthfully, you knew this time was coming. The time when this weird three month long fling would come to an end, but you had decided to pursue it anyway. You knew that you’d end up hurt and he’d move on to whoever in Korea while you’d be left back here picking up the pieces of your heart. But his face twisted into one of empathy and he swallowed down his tears.

“A few weeks early. My manager said my flight is… next Thursday.” He said, and you gasped. He came up to you, and enveloped you into a huge hug, just holding you tightly against him. The smell of your shampoo invaded his senses and the only thing he wanted was to hold you like that forever. He suddenly remembered everything that he left back in Korea. His career, the rest of the members, his family. Everything was there, but you were here. You had changed his life in these past few weeks more than all his 23 years of experience had. More than his music study could ever teach him. And now, with just a few days left to be here with you, he found himself dreading going back.

“Jae?” You mumbled into his bare chest.

“Hm?” He answered, still holding on to you.

“Can you go put on some clothes and let’s just chill at home?” You responded and shifted your gaze so that you were looking at him. He peered at you and smiled, before leaving a kiss on your forehead and going to quickly change into some loungewear.

About 5 minutes later, he strode back into the living are where you’d made yourself comfortable on one of the couches. He smiled and threw himself next to you with a grunt, and grabbed you close to him as you cuddled up together.

Jaehyun had asked you to accompany him to the airport and see him off, but as you woke up on the day, you dreaded having to see him off. He texted you, and you responded that you’d be there. After all, you were in love with the guy.

You rolled out of bed and took a super fast shower, then got ready and jumped in the car. His flight was in just a few hours, but you wanted to make sure that he was there on time. As you pulled up to his apartment and went up to his door, you tried to hold back your emotions. He seemed intent on going back the past few days, and even mentioned that he was excited to leave and see his family and work again. Little did you know he was just trying to convince himself that it was the right choice.

You couldn’t help but think that some of the moments you shared weren’t as special for him than they were for you as you took the elevator up to his apartment. Before you even had the chance to knock on the door, he swung it open and you were greeted with a red eyed, puffy faced Jaehyun. You instantly could tell he had been crying, and you stepped in, pulling him into the biggest hug, which he returned with such ferocity it almost knocked you over. He let out a muffled sob and your heart broke into a million pieces. You gently pried him off of you, and calmed him long enough for him to tell you what was wrong but in between his breathy crying and staggered breathing, you could barely understand, so you just held him as he let it out.

The one part of his ramblings that you did catch however made your heart skip a beat.

“A-and you...these months-” A few sniffles, “So good, -nd I don't wanna go-” A soft ragged breath, “b-cause you are my everything…” He said, and then stopped. You felt his heartbeat quicken at what he just confessed, and you tried to steel your emotions

“Jae, I know. We grew close and these past few months have been fun, but that’s it. You have a career and your whole life in Korea, and you deserve to go and live it out and follow your dreams, like you told me you always wanted to do.” You said, tears pricking your own eyes. He suddenly shifted off of you and gave you an incredulous look.

“Just fun? Just fun?” He said, his voice rising a little. “So all this time, this was just a fling for you. You made me fall in love with you and now you’re telling me it was just fun? You’re saying that if I asked you to come with me you’d say no and tell me this is what? One sided? That you don't feel like this is the worst mistake?” He said, and you folded your arms over your chest. There was no way that you’d stand in the way of his career, no matter how much of a bad guy it would make you. He would get over it soon, and continue and be a world famous singer… Right?

You thought that is what he wanted, but as his words wash over you and you understand the depth of the relationship between the two of you. Something clicks in your mind but you don’t speak. You just stand there and look down at the floor.

His breath catches in his throat and he mutters a quiet but forceful, “get out.” And you follow suit. Sighing and holding back tears of your own, you step out of his apartment and head out to the car, knowing that at some point he’d have to come down since you were his ride to the airport. As awkward as that one hour car ride was going to be, you didn’t have much of a choice, as before everything went down, he made sure that you were the only one to see him off.

A couple of minutes later, a puffy faced angry Jaehyun appeared at your passenger side door, and he knocked aggressively on the window, jutting his thumb to the back of the car.

“Open the trunk.” He mouthed, and the already thick tension only grew as you nervously opened the trunk and waited for him to climb in the car. He opened the door, and then slammed it with such force you thought the door was going to snap off. The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes as you drove, and when you pulled into the freeway, you decided to speak.

“Listen-” You started, and he interrupted you with a raised hand. You heard him take a loud breath, and then he began to speak.

“I know you’re driving and your attention has to be on the road but please, hear me out.” He pleaded with you, and the desperate tone in his voice sent the waterworks your way again.

“It's true. Without you, I can’t live. I can’t eat or sleep, or breathe without thinking about you. Everything that you did to me was so ethereal. You changed my life so much in these three months. I can’t begin to describe how hard it is for me to go. Honestly, when my company suggested that I come to the states for the music study I was skeptical because I already know music theory and production. But it was the best decision of my life. And now you’re sitting here telling me that this isn't-” He said and the tears began to spill on his face again. You gripped the steering wheel tighter and tried to keep your eyes focused on the road ahead, but the emotion in Jaehyun’s voice was getting to you as well, and a few rogue tears slid down your cheeks.

“I know you can’t just leave your life behind here, but I really really want you to. I want you to come to Korea and live with me, and we can be happy. I can introduce you to my family and the other members, and it’ll be so good. I can ask the company to find you an apartment and we can-” he continued, but you stopped him.

“Jaehyun. You and I both know that as soon as you get back, you’ll be so busy that we won’t have time to see each other. You’re about to have a major comeback and I don’t even know Korean so it’ll be hard for me to even assimilate there. I really really want to put my whole life on hold but… How can I?” You say, and the hurt is clearly evident on your face as the both of you have tears streaked faces. The rest of the ride is relatively quiet, but at some point, Jaehyun reaches over and rests his hand on your thigh as a signal for a truce.

He sniffles and leans his head back on the headrest, eyes squeezed shut as you pull into the airport parking lot. After finding a space, and getting his luggage out of the trunk, he takes your hand and you both go inside. He checks in, and you start to head over to the security checkpoint, which you were not allowed to pass.

“Please, promise me that you’ll stay in touch and we won’t be like those couples who promise and then never do and they grow apart. I seriously cannot live without you.” he said, while pulling you to face him. A couple of people were starting to gather, and by the looks of it they recognized Jaehyun, so you sent him a sad smile and gave him a huge hug, never wanting to let go. The both of you pulled away, and he grudgingly went to the passport check. Just before he disappeared behind the security checkpoint, he turned and locked eyes with you, and even from this far you knew he was sending you a soft, sad smile. Not a “goodbye”, but rather a “see you soon.”

Four Months Later

You rushed to shove on your shoes and grab all of your luggage as you heard your cousin impatiently honking outside of your apartment building. You had been planning to surprise Jaehyun for a few weeks, and asked them to come and take you to the airport. You left your apartment and quickly went over to a neighbor's where you asked them to take care of some plants and to pick up your mail each day. The middle aged woman agreed, and happily took your keys, wishing you a safe flight and travels.

You thanked her as you flew down the hallway, and heard her chuckling just before you rounded the corner and smashed the call button for the elevator. You knew it wouldn’t come any faster if you kept pressing the button, but you did it anyway. The nerves kicked in as you descended in the metal box, and ran out to your cousin’s car. They flung the door open for you, and you threw your bag into the backseat before hopping in. The drive was filled with some laughs and the memories from your last trip to the airport came suddenly flooding back. It had been only a few months ago that you had driven Jaehyun to the airport and had your first teary-eyed farewell.

Since then, you both called at least once a week, but texted every day. You slowly became more interested in NCT, his group, and even started talking to a few of his other English-speaking members, who all welcomed you with excited messages. You had been learning Korean with Mark and Johnny, to surprise Jaehyun, and not to toot your own horn, but you’d been getting pretty good! You could now communicate at it’s most basic sense of the word, and at least order food and ask for traveling directions. You smiled as you pulled up your conversation with Jaehyun, and read some of the new messages..

Jaehyun : Babe! Have you had the chance to watch our m/v yet? It came out like a few hours ago!

Jaehyun : You really should watch it and let me know what you think. I wrote the lyrics with Johnny-hyung this time. I think you’d be proud.

Jaehyun : Yo babyyyy….?

Jaehyun : Babe? Ah you’re probably busy. Ok call me when you watch it so i can see your reaction!

You smiled at all the messages, and sent him a quick “I’m at work, call you later, love you.” and then thought about how you’d explain away being inactive for your 13+ hour flight. You sighed, and locked your phone, then leaned your head back.

Your cousin pulled into the drop-off lane at the airport. You looked at them with a grateful smile, and gave them an awkward hug over the center console which they returned. As soon as you grabbed all of your belongings and double checked for your wallet and passport, you waved them goodbye, and they sped off. You turned and walked into the airport, and after a tiring 45 minute ordeal through check-ins and security, you finally made it to your gate. You took out your phone while you waited for the flight to board, and saw a few messages from Mark who was also in on the surprise. He said that him and Johnny managed to get you a company car to pick you up from the airport, but that you’d have to find your own housing.

“Shouldn’t be too hard…” You mumbled, and replied to him before searching for hotels in the Seoul area. There were a few upscale locations, but you decided to also check Airbnb for any long-term residence options. You came upon a sweet little apartment near Itaewon , which was about a 45 minute drive from the SM campus. You searched for anything cheaper or closer, but after not finding anything, you quickly booked the location for a 2 week period. You smiled happily, having one less thing to worry about on your flight, and then heard the “All-Passengers Now Boarding” message, so you grabbed all of your things again, and huddled in the line. You had been lucky to find a good deal on a seat in the economy class, so you took your seat near the front of the plane, having a rather great view out the window. You smiled and relaxed as a kind looking lady sat down next to you, and you fell into a comfortable conversation as the rest of the passengers were seated and the plane took off. She told you a few stories about how her family was all in Korea but she visited the US to see her daughter who just had a baby. You smiled at her story, and she patted your hand.

“You go to Korea? What do you have in Korea?” She asked tentatively, and you told her your love story. You left out the part about him being a singer, thinking she might not believe you, and she smiled warmly, and recounted a few stories from her youth about her and her now late husband. You smiled, and upon checking your phone, saw that you’d managed to pass a few hours of your time swapping stories. A steward announced that passengers could now use their in-flight wifi, and you quickly took out your phone to see a few missed calls from your cousin (who probably just wanted an update) and a few tests from none other than Jaehyun himself.

Jaehyun : Baby, I have the night off… are you still at work? We should call.

Jaehyun : Please? I really want to see your pretty face, I miss you.

Jaehyun : Ahhh, come on, I know you’re not busy because we usually call at this time…

You stifled a laugh, and rolled your eyes softly at his antics. He was always begging to see you, and now you didn’t know how to remedy the situation and not expose your location. You got an idea and ran to the lavatory, which was thankfully unlocked. After fishing your headphones from your pocket, you plugged them in and asked if he was free at the moment, and before you were even able to respond he was already video calling you. You laughed and hit the accept button, and smiled at the camera.

“Hi! Oh- I missed your face so much, you beautiful work of art…” His voice rang into your headphones, and you saw his eyebrows furrow as he drew the phone close to his face to see the screen.

“Where are you?” He said, brows still furrowed, and you smiled, trying to look as genuine as you could,

“I’m in the restroom at this little place, I wanted to take some time out and just treat myself, you know?” You said, and technically you were vague enough to not lie, and somehow he didn't press for any more information.

“Oh, baby that's good that you get to do something nice for yourself… Have you watched the m/v yet?” He asked, impatiently and you already knew he just wanted you to stroke his already inflated ego. You laughed, and he smiled widely, and shook your head.

“ I haven't but I swear I will as soon as I get home tonight? I know it’ll be late but you have to promise to wait for me!” You say, and he tiredly laughs.

“I promise to wait for your call tonight babe, I don’t think I’ll even sleep peacefully until I hear your opinion on the m/v.” He said, and you laughed. After a few more minutes of talking, you told him that there were others waiting to use the restroom, and after an insurmountable nu be of "I love you"s and "Yes, I'll call you later"s, you hung up just before you exited the lavatory. You spent the rest of the time napping and sometimes chatting with the lady seated next to you, who had a multitude of interesting things to tell you. You’d lost track of time, and only noticed when the stewards and stewardesses came by with lunch trays.

After that, you fell into a deep sleep, and only woke when the “Please Fasten your seatbelts for landing” messages were being played on the intercom. You hastily buckled it, and the nervousness started to kick in once again. The lady next to you must have sensed it because she reached over and gave your hand a sympathetic squeeze, and reassured you that “He will be excited to see you. I promise”.

After the landing and a rough battle through customs, you finally made it to the gates where onlookers waited for their friends and family to walk out. You spotted a man holding a paper with your name on it, and went over, greeting him formally and returning his polite smile. He took your things and led you to a nondescript car, where he put your things in the trunk and held the back door open for you to get in. Once settled, he asked if you would give him an address, or if he should take you to the SM building.

“SM building, please.” You say, hoping that you were using the correct verbage and honorifics. The driver’s eyebrows raised, and he made eye contact with you in the mirror. In a soft broken English he complimented your Korean, and said he was surprised that you knew pronunciation so well. You smiled and thanked him, and explained that some friends had helped you study it before coming. He nods, and the rest of the ride is spent in a comfortable silence.

An hour and a half-ish later, the car pulled into the parking lot of the SM building, and you almost burst out of the car in excitement. You’d been texting with Mark and Johnny in a private group chat, and they said Jaehyun had fallen asleep waiting for you to call him somewhere in a waiting room. You were shown into a side entrance, so as to avoid any prying eyes, and you quickly met up with the aforementioned boys, who greeted you with wide smiles and big hugs. They led you around the building and showed you a few of the locations that you’d seen before in videos and on call with Jaehyun.

You smiled fondly as you followed them around and they led you into a small room with couches lining the sides, and a few tables thrown in the middle. And you saw him. Him.

He was slouched against one of the couches, chin to shoulder and out cold. An innocent look was on his face as he slept and as you admired him, Johnny and Mark said they'd wait for you guys downstairs and left.

You gently set down your small bag on a table and silently made your way over to your sleeping boy. Smiling, you sat on his lap, legs straddling his thighs and he stirred from his sleep with a sharp intake of breath. His eyes fluttered open and he made eye contact with you, staring into your eyes with a confused glare. You put your hands on his shoulders, and then moved them up to his face, cupping his cheeks as you sent him a smile.

"Y/n…? I-Is this… Am I still dreaming?" He whispered and you laughed, answering,

"No, you're not dreaming. I'm here… kiss me." You said, and he immediately obliged, closing the distance between your lips. His hands finally made their way around your waist, and he pulled you closer to his chest, and smiled into the kiss.

"What? How? How did you even find me?" He said, breathlessly and you explained to him the whole story from beginning to end. He listened with a marveling look on his face, and let his head drop as he smiled shyly.

"Well I am so glad you're here. I missed you so much, you've got no idea. Korea isn't half as fun without you." He said, and you sat and caught up for a few minutes, before you remembered the other two who were waiting.

"Johnny and Mark are waiting for us! They said we should go out to get some late-night food." You quickly said and climbed off of Jaehyun's lap as he stood and stretched. He gathered his things and you yours and just before you two set out the door, he took your hand in his and placed a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

"Have I ever told you how much I love you, Y/n?"

"Everyday."

#jaehyun #jung jaehyun #jungjaehyun #jaehyun x reader #nct scenarios #nct x reader #nct #nct127 #drabble #nct imagine #nct imagines #johnny suh #mark lee #jeong jaehyun #nct jaehyun #jaehyun nct

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

Text

Smalltown Bringdown 1

Warnings: blood, violence, more to be added.

This is dark!biker!Bucky and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live in a smalltown run by a biker club. When your boss gets into debt, you find yourself drawn into the crossfire.

Note: Yesterday I tried writing Sugar, Sugar. That didn’t work out. I had a migraine on Monday that I’m still tiptoeing around. I wrote this a week ago but wanna continue it. Well, if there’s any interest in my doing so. So to those who take the time to read, thank you. Love you guys!

Please, leave some feedback, like and reblog if you can <3

Birch was a small town, named for the line of pale tree at its heart. The streets were built around it. It had stood for centuries like a guardian over residents. Like a harbinger of their eventual fates. White as a ghost, looming like the reaper.

And death lived in Birch. It rode the streets on iron steeds. The apocalyptic horseman roaring down the roads in leather. Oblivion was the bar on the main road.; The Asp was a remnant of the town’s birth. An inn for those who claimed to discover this “new world”. Cleopatra reclined along the sign’s moniker, a snake around her arm, poised to sink its long fangs in her throat.

Further down was the Chipped Saucer. The British were the first Europeans to settle here and when they supped with the Natives, they found their dishware cracked from their long journey. The tale outlived those early townsfolk painted across the window of sleepy old diner. The history of the forgotten town was long remembered because there, time didn’t seem to move very fast.

The town was more purgatory than hell. Few ever escaped it. You were among the trapped. A waitress in an aged yellow uniform and frilly white apron at the old diner. Sundays were busiest. The older folk were hungry after the weekly service and the younger residents were trying to caffeinate their hangovers.

You did your round of refills and returned the carafe to the machine. You took your time replacing the filter and adding the grounds. The rusted jingle of the bell above the door barely registered in your head. But the decisive stomp of boots did. Not just one set, not two, but more than you could count. You looked up as you closed the lid on the machine.

The diners sat frozen as if in a tableau. Not a single breath was drawn as you watched the leather-coated men walk between the tables. You didn’t need to see the patches on their backs to know who they were. Everyone knew who they were because they owned everything and everyone. The police, the town council, the mayor, and any who called Birch home.

Every small town has its dark secrets but the club had never really been a secret. The Howling Commandos had reigned since the boys returned from the war in 1945. Since, their mantle had been taken up by sons, nephews, cousins. Those glory days loomed as if it were only yesterday that the newspapers declared victory in Europe! Victor in Japan! Korea! Vietnam! Iraq!

You skirted behind the counter as Lillian, the oldest of the waitresses, stood by the kitchen window. Artie, the cook, neared the other side and gave a grunt at the bikers kicking around the diner.

“From what I heard,” He said loud enough for them to hear. “They serve hash down at The Asp, don’t they?”

“Artie,” Lillian hissed under her breath as she touched her immense bosom.

The diners, the servers, the bus boys, all exhaled in communal dismay. Mr. Elrich watched as Danny, the boy he’d once taught, took his mug of coffee and emptied it in a single gulp.

“Where’s Jimmy?” A golden-haired man stepped forward.

You knew him. Knew of him. He had been a few years ahead of you in school. He was held back and sat beside you in math and copied off your tests. Steve Rogers was too much trouble for a browner like you.

“Jimmy’s out,” Artie waved his spatula. “Can’t you see these people are tryna enjoy their breakfast?”

“Jimmy’s out,” Steve repeated slowly as he neared the counter. “Well, that’s a first. I always thought he slept off his Saturday nights in his office. Least I always found him half-asleep at his desk. Definitely wasn’t working.”

“You come back later when he’s in,” Artie shook his head. “Goddamn, boy, my eggs are burning.”

“Artie,” Lillian and several other waitresses wailed at him.

“How long you worked here, Art?” Steve was close. You could smell the leather and smoke as he passed you. His hand was on the door as he glared at Art through the window.

“Be thirty years, soon enough,” Artie answered defiantly. “Since you were a kid tossing your pancakes at the wall, you brat.”

Steve chuckled and pushed through the door. Several women screamed and men shushed them at the flurry that followed. The crash of pans as Steve grabbed the old man by his collar and pushed him against the window. You stepped through the door before it swung shut.

“Don’t.” You pleaded. “Don’t hurt him. Jimmy’s not here. None of us have seen him since yesterday.”

“Oh yeah?” Steve shrugged you away. “Loyalty is admirable. The man pays your check, so I understand your insistence on protecting him. I only wish he was as diligent in paying his dues.”

“St-stop,” You squealed as he his hand wrapped around Artie’s thick throat. “Goddamnit, you know Artie. You know he means no harm.”

“I know he’s always had a mean mouth,” Steve snarled. “Where’s that spatula now, hmm? You gonna give me a swat, Art?”

You looked around. The waitresses gaped through the window as the men loomed around the tables. Amused, they crossed their arms and watched the helpless old cook struggle. On the long steel table behind Steve was a large knife. Your heart pounded as you inched around him.

“Steve, come on, you can wait around for Jimmy,” You offered. “I’m sure he’ll be in. Hell, you’ll have more luck heading down to his. I’m sure he’s sleeping it off there.”

“I came here to get the money and I’m not leaving without it.” Steve snarled.

You bent slowly and took the knife, careful not to drag the blade on the floor. You stood and came around Steve. He glanced over as you pointed it at his neck. He chuckled as his eyes flashed.

“You don’t wanna do that, girl,” He warned.

“I don’t so long as you let him go,” You declared. “You go sit down, we’ll get you coffee, Art will cook you some bacon, and we’ll wait for Jimmy.”

“Don’t think I will.” Steve squeezed tighter as Artie turned red.

“Oh yeah?” You touched his neck with the blade’s edge. “You want Jimmy, no one’s keeping you from him but we can’t help you if you throttle poor Artie.”

A chuckle came from behind you. Deep and venomous. You looked slowly over your shoulder as the back door whisked shut. The knife slipped from your hand as you were faced with the barrel of a gun. The metal clattered to the tile as you dropped your arms and stared at the pistol’s mouth.

“You grew some balls since grade school,” Bucky remarked.

Him and Steve had always been inseparable. You should’ve known he wasn’t far. And as the main shareholder in the Asp and therefore the club, he was owed more than any. It would be a mark on the crest not to collect the debt himself.

“Wish I could say the same of you,” You retorted. “So, you gonna shoot me?”

He laughed again and Steve did too. “Let the man go,” Bucky said. “There’s a safe in the office. If there’s not enough in there, we’ll empty the till.”

He lowered the gun. Slowly as if taunting you. You turned to check on Artie as he leaned heavily on the wall. Steve headed for the door to the back hall where Jimmy’s office was.

“You okay?” You helped Artie stand straight. “You need some water. You should sit down. I’ll get Billy to finish service.”

“You are going to go out there,” Bucky said as he holstered his gun. “With the rest of the girls and stay away from sharp objects.” He grabbed your arm and dragged you to the door. “Artie, you get back to your tickets. These people look hungry.”

He shoved you through to the dining room and you stumbled into the counter. Artie coughed and wiped his sweaty hands on his apron. He waved at Billy, his sous chef, and ambled back to the grill.

It was a few minutes of tense silence filled only with the sound of pots, pans, and plates. As Artie called out an order and Lillian loaded her tray, Steve emerged from the back. Donny stood at the front door and kept any from leaving. Not than anyone had the strength or courage to even stand up.

“I don’t think we’re getting that thing open.” Steve said.

“Hey!” Donny shouted and the door chimed as he pulled it open.

Everyone watched as he raced out and chased Jimmy past the window. The small, greasy-haired man put up little fight against the burly biker and was dragged inside.

“There you are, Jim,” Bucky swung the door open and brushed past you. “We were starting to get impatient.”

“Bucky,” Jimmy’s voice cracked. “What are you--”

“Jim, let’s not play this game,” Bucky snapped. “I think you know I haven’t brought everyone here for breakfast so why don’t you help us crack the code and we’ll be on our way.”

“Crack the code?” Jimmy whimpered.

“We found the safe,” Bucky crossed his arms. “So, you open it up and we’re on our way. I only came for what’s mine. For what you owe me.”

“I-I-I--” Jimmy stuttered.

“Grab him,” Bucky ordered and Steve was quick to grab the thin man by his scruff and drag him across the diner.

Bucky led the way into the kitchen and the weak struggle could be heard as they disappeared through the back door. Artie called another order and Kimmie balanced it on her tray. When the three men returned, Jimmy had a bloody lip and Steve carried a black bag of what could only be the safe’s contents.

“Well, you see, we still got a problem here, Jimmy.” Bucky hauled him over to the window by his arm. “That’s not even close to what you owe and you’ve got late fees on top of it. Dodging me all week like this.”

Jimmy looked ready to cry as Bucky took his hand and slammed hit flat on the window’s ledge. He held his wrist down as he reached to his waist. “Check the register.” Bucky ordered.

Steve went to the till and hit every button until it opened. He emptied the drawer and shook his head. “Not even a hundred.” He scoffed.

“Pity,” Bucky pulled a knife from his belt. “Well then, Jim, there’s only one thing for you to do; pick a finger.”

“Wha--” Jimmy yelped. “What do you--”

“You pick a finger or I will find something worse to cut off.” Bucky lowered the blade and Jimmy flinched away.

“Please,” Jimmy begged. “I’ll get the money. End of the week, I promise.”

“You said that last week,” Bucky countered. “And I can’t gamble my integrity as lightly as you do, Jim. So hurry up or I’ll make you pick two.”

“Uh…” Jimmy quaked and went pale. ‘Th-the pinkie.”

Bucky was quick. The knife cut easily through flesh and bone and blood pooled beneath Jimmy’s hand in second. You covered your mouth as your stomach flipped and several people wretched, some followed by sloppy splats onto the floor.

Bucky held up the finger and admired it before he tucked it into his pocket and patted Jimmy on the back. “One week for the rest of it, Jim.” He strode through the door and stopped just beside the counter. He turned to you and smirked as he took the cloth from your apron pocket. “Get some pressure on that before he passes out, will ya?”

He handed you the cloth and winked. He nodded to his men and they filed out the door without another word. You blinked and shook yourself from your shock. You pushed through the kitchen door and grabbed Jimmy’s hand as he held his wrist. You pushed the rag to his severed pinkie and he hissed.

“Someone call an ambulance,” Your voice seemed to break the pall that had fallen over the diner. “Please!”

💀

By Tuesday, it was as if nothing had ever happened at the Chipped Saucer. The usual customers stopped by for their breakfast or lunch and Artie was back to his grumpy ways. The only thing that remained was the blood stain on the window ledge. And the bandage on Jimmy’s hand.

When you were done your shift, you hung your apron on its hook in the back and clipped your name tag on it. You covered up your hideous yellow dress with your black cardigan and grabbed your purse before you headed out. Your mother texted you to grab some cheese on your way home and a sixer of Blue for good measure.

You stopped by the grocer first and added a box of oreos to your bill. The liquor store was just next door and the after work crowd strolled its aisles. You traipsed to the back, the paper bag balanced against your hip as you browsed the cans and bottles. You grabbed some Blue and turned to head to the check out. You were the only person left in the aisle, well aside from one. Likely the reason for the sudden desolation.

Bucky Barnes stood before you in his leather jacket. You hadn’t noticed him there at the end of the shelf, watching you, arms crossed. You sighed and walked towards him, deliberately sidestepping him. You stopped short as he blocked you with his arm.

“Not even a hello?” He mused.

You scoffed and shook your head and stepped to the other side. He blocked you just as quickly. You tilted your head wryly and he smiled.

“What do you want?”

“To talk.” He said evenly.

“Mmhmm,” You rolled your eyes. “Forgive me if I’m not up for it.”

You tried to shake him again and he caught you around your waist. “Honey, honey, honey.”

You wriggled away from him and almost dropped your armful.

“You had a gun in my face two days ago. I have nothing to say to you.”

“You had a knife to my man’s throat.” He said. “Think we’re even.”

“Just say whatever it is you want so that I can go home.” You grumbled.

“How you like working over there at the Saucer?”

“What?” You shook your head.

“Seems slow. Tips any good?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” You challenged.

“Well, we got an opening at The Asp and you’ve got experience serving.” He shrugged. “Figured I’d put that out there. Not many ways to move up in this town.”

“I don’t wanna work at a dive.” You said through your teeth. “You done?”

“Sure.” He backed up and turned so he was almost against the shelf. He waved you past him. “Go home. Relax.” You began to step by him and he spoke again. “Say hi to your ma.”

You stopped but didn’t look back at him. You swallowed and carried your sixer to the counter. You set it down and dug for your wallet with one hand.

“It’s been covered.” Larry said as he scratched his thick mustache and glanced at Bucky. The biker pretended to peruse the white wines.

“No, it hasn’t.” You slammed a bill on the cans. “You give him his money back. Or keep it. I couldn’t care less.”

You waited for your change and grabbed the beer. You kept your head high as you swept out onto the street and past the motorcycle parked across two spots. You’d have to barter a can off your mom when you got in.

💀

On Friday, Jimmy called you to his office. He never called anyone to his office. Well except Kimmie but that’s because everyone knew what was going on between them. So you punched out and headed to the small back room with the dented metal desk from the 60s and the cinder block wall poorly disguised with flowery wallpaper. You knocked then entered when he replied.

You sat in the small chair with the orange cushion. The same one you’d sat your interview in. Jimmy spun his pen in his hand. He was jumpy. More than usual. The small safe hidden beside his filing cabinet was scratched but still in tact. He dropped the pen and twined his fingers together.

“So, uh, yeah,” He blinked and sniffed. “Well, this isn’t… easy. Not quite sure how to say it really.”

You were quiet. Confused. You scrunched your lips and listened. You had a bad feeling. Unusual things didn’t happen for no reason. Not in a small town.

“Heh, well, I’m sure you know I’ve come into some financial hardship and, well, it looks like...uh,” He sat back and smoothed his greasy, thinnng hair. “I’m gonna have to let you… go.”

“Let me go?” You repeated. “You’re not serious, are you?”

“I need the, uh, cash,” He turned back and forth in his chair. He was nervous.

“Cash. Sure. You couldn’t sell that heap of junk parked outside?” You sneered. “I have no doubt this has something to do with those goons but I don’t think you’re being honest about the why.”

“Look, I’m real sorry. You’ll get severance.” He sputtered.

“You can’t afford to keep me on but you can afford the pay out?” You scoffed and stood. “Let me ask you, have you received any other visits from your friends at The Asp?”

He shook his head frantically.

“Yeah, you haven’t been around Larry’s to grab a mickey at all? Or passing by? Maybe Tuesday night?”

“It’s a small town. I got nowhere to hide.” He cowered.

“Suppose there’s nothing else to say. Nothing I can say.” You threw up those hands. “You tell Bucky you were a good boy, okay?”

“I…”

“I get it. You owe them.” You started to turn away. “When should I expect my cheque.”

“Usual,” He answered glumly. “I really am sorry.”

“Yeah, yeah,” You stopped by the door. “You remember how sorry you are the next time you pick up a cue, eh.”

💀

Another trip to the liquor store, this one unimpeded. A bottle of wine from some unheard of vineyard on some distant island. You carried it home in the bag, its shape visible beneath the wrinkled paper. You went in the back way, as you always did. Your mother’s dog, Ash, wiggled his bum as you stopped to pet him. You let him inside as you entered the kitchen.

Your mother was at the counter, working on dinner. You set the bottle on the table heavily and sat. You let your purse fall to the floor and sighed.

“Hey, hon,” She said. “How was your day?”

You grumbled and unsheathed the bottle. You crumpled the bag and tossed it in the middle of the table. You unscrewed the lid and drank from the long neck. Your mom stopped her chopping and turned with a hand on her hip.

“Rough one?” She asked.

“I got fired.” You said numbly.

“Fired? For what?”

You shrugged and took another drink. She huffed and set aside her knife. You listened as she opened and closed a cupboard and crossed to you. She set down a glass.

“Pace yourself.” She reproached.

You frowned and filled the glass to the rim. She tutted and went back to the counter.

“It’s because of them.” You said at last.

She looked at you but kept quiet. She knew who you meant.

“Some kind of game.” You muttered.

“Oh, Lillian told me about your heroics.” Your mother sighed. “I knew you weren’t telling me something.”

“Christ, ma, they were gonna give Artie a heart attack,” You exclaimed. “What was I supposed to do? He’s a defenseless old man.”

“And? The Commandos are thugs. They have no qualms against old men and young women.” She dumped her cutting board in the pot and covered it. “Losing your job is nothing. You could’ve lost a lot more messing around. You know how things work.”

“Not as well as you, yeah?” You drank deeply. “Dad learned it the hard way, didn’t he?”

“That he did,” She assured you and took a glass of her own from the cupboard. She sat with you at the table. “You’ll find something else. Something better than the diner. That little tourism place, they need a new receptionist.”

“Great, I’ll get my resume printed tomorrow.” You poured her a more modest glass. “It’s a show. Don’t worry, ma. They just want to wave their-- well, you know.”

“You just stay clear of them. Let them find bigger fish to fry,” She advised.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #biker!bucky barnes #biker au #bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader #biker!bucky barnes x reader #ft steve rogers #au #series #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #mcu #marvel #captain america

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queen-ofsunflowers · 3 years

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Make Every Moment Last - Chapter 8 Preview

Moon’s Monorail

Junpei had been kind enough to walk back to the door with Kotone after school ended that day. Wanting to spend more time with her friend, she agreed. That desire also led to the pair stopping by Paulownia all before heading back to the dorm. Excited to show Kotone something, Junpei led her towards one place in particular: a little cafe called Chagall.

“What?” said Junpei, a little nervous when he noticed Kotone staring at the cafe’s entrance.

“Never really took you for the kind of guy who likes these places,” she said. He was more of a… a meat kind of guy. Ramen and beef bowls and all that. This was definitely a surprise.

“Yeah, well… I’ve always wanted to come here. “Junpei wrung his hand over the back of his neck to try and hide a rising blush. “But guys can’t really come to places like this with each other…” ...was that the problem?

“And where do guys usually go?”

“Uhh…” Junpei began to count off on his fingers. “Karaoke, Wild-duck Burger, the manga café… it sounds a lot lamer when I say it out loud!” He laughed. “Still, this place has some damn good coffee. You can tell that the guy who owns this place is really picky about the beans. He probably roasts them all differently using special waters for each type…”

“You know a lot about coffee, huh?” The pair entered the cafe, the little bell in the doorway ringing as they did.

Junpei chuckled. “I just really like it. That’s all.” He seemed a little proud of himself, despite trying to brush it off as nothing. “I also like the bitter taste. Drinking it makes me feel tough and cool…”

“Then I’ll have the same thing, then.” With the way he was playing it up… that, and it would be good to try and figure out why Minato liked the taste so much. Bitter coffee just threw her for a loop.

“Just watch. Every time I drink it right off, the guys freak out ‘cause they think I burned myself…” Junpei snickered, and Kotone saw exactly what he meant a moment later, which had caused her to burst into giggles.

The conversation continued on for a while, long after their coffee had cooled and a new waiter nearby had stopped freaking out. It was only when Junpei brought up a certain topic did Kotone make him panic a little.

“Hey uh…” he said once their cups were nearly drained, Kotone finishing off the last of her own, “are there any guys you’re interested in?” Kotone promptly choked on her coffee, coughing heavily on it. “Sorry!”

“I’m okay…” said Kotone as soon as her coughing subsided. She wiped the back of her mouth on her sleeve. “Just…. kinda came out of nowhere with that one.”

“Nah, it’s just something that’s been on my mind…” Junpei wrung his hand over the back of his neck. “I could totally help you out if you want. It’d be fun to get to play Cupid.”

“I dunno. Hard to get anyone to notice me when I have Mr. Emo Eyepatch looming over my shoulder whenever a guy even mentions my name,” said Kotone, using her hand to cover her right eye in imitation of her cousin. She huffed. “I swear my dad put him up to it…”

“He doesn’t do that with the guys at the dorm. Then again, he’s always hostile, so…”

Kotone shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. I think that’s because Kirijo-senpai already put the fear of the gods into them, so Minato doesn’t have to do anything.”

“What about Akihiko-senpai?”

“...What about him?”

“He doesn’t seem scared of her. Why don’t you try and go after him? The transfer student swoops in and steals the heart of the boy that every girl wants” Junpei chuckled. “You’d better be careful that he doesn’t play you… wait, no… Akihiko-san’s not that kind of guy. It’s like the opposite. He’d be way too serious if you were in a relationship.”

Kotone hummed, thinking back to everything that she knew about Sanada. “Maybe?”

“Huh?” Oh crap, she had said that out loud.

“Not the whole romance thing, but Sanada-senpai is… he is a pretty nice guy.” Kotone’s mind flickered back to what happened in the hospital between her and him the night the dorm was attacked. He had been kind, reassuring. It was… He was nice, and interesting the more Kotone spent time around him. “I do want to get to know him better.”

“If you’re serious about that, my ears are always open.”

Kotone grinned. “Thanks, Junpei.”

Junpei leaned back in his seat, fidgeting with the empty cup in front of him. “Man… Are you sure that you and Minato are related? You’re friendly and kind, and he’s… uh…”

“He’s anti-social and bites?”

“Yeah. Is he always like that?”

Kotone nodded. Has been since his parents died. It took me a while to get through the walls he put up, too.” And a particularly bad nightmare, but he didn’t need to know that. Minato would lose his shit if she ever told anyone about it. “Don’t worry, Junpei. I’m sure that you can break through it soon enough. You seem to be on the right track. You and Ryoji, you guys are making an effort. That’s all that you can really do right now.”

“I believe you, but man…” Junpei sighed, slumping against the table, “he makes it hard. It’s kind of frustrating.”

“Tell me about it…” said Kotone. She understood why he couldn’t let the others in as easily as she did, but still… Keeping up his walls like that must’ve hurt.

Junpei laughed, and the conversation flowed easier from there. Junpei, despite what the others (especially Yukari) said about him, was pretty alright in Kotone’s eyes. And she prided herself on being a good judge of character.

The full chapter will be up on Ao3 on November 24!

#persona 3 #persona 3 au #preview #make every moment last fic #monsters and magic au #kotone shiomi #junpei iori #full moon 2 #let's go!!!

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saladejin · 4 years

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Admire | 03

Seokjin x Fem!Reader | arranged marriage!au, husband!Seokjin | Strangers to lovers, angst, self discovery, loneliness in luxury, touch starvation (eventual smut), eventual domestic fluff

Summary: You’d never needed anyone else. Growing up alone, living alone, existing alone. It all came naturally and effortlessly, quite like breathing. That was until your somewhat distant parents finally decided it was time to make good on a promise. One they’d made before you were even born.

Warnings: Some very brief mentions of weight in the beginning, some internal angst & realisations

Word Count: 2.8k

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Time passed a little quicker after that, and soon a couple of months had flown by. You and Seokjin had attended so many events and parties that you’d lost count somewhere along the line. You’d had so much practice in convincing people about your relationship that things just started to come naturally after a while.

Things like smiling at one other when speaking to the high-class attendees of the party, and giving each other small kisses on the cheek when leaving for a trip to the restroom or a drink break – even though it was only you giving, him receiving – and getting even better at dancing so that you could have a short debrief whenever you ended up in each-other’s arms on the dance floor.

Seokjin began to notice that after having some practice wearing heels and conversing with his peers, you could prove yourself quite resourceful and quick-witted. Sometimes you managed to divert a conversation or improvise upon an answer that he never could have even imagined. It made you giggle whenever you shocked him into a stupor, because it was easily passable as a love-struck gaze to anyone watching or listening to the conversation.

Tonight was going to be one of the last events for a while. At least you thought. It was someone’s cousin’s birthday? All you knew was that after this, you could take a breather from the rich population of the city, and Seokjin could too.

“I’m starting to think I should lose weight. I bought this dress recently,” you whined lowly, wondering why you couldn’t zip yourself into the pretty blue gown. A figure soon loomed up behind you and in one swift motion the fabric was brought together tightly.

You met Seokjin’s eyes through the mirror in front of you and exhaled sharply in exasperation, trying to let the sudden fear ebb away into the hazy perfumed air.

“Don’t scare me like that.”

The tall broad-shouldered man left the room without a change in expression, saying in an impassive tone, “You were the one complaining. Women always go on about their weight, but there’s never actually a problem half the time.”

How should I react to that? Is it a compliment… or is he being unfair to women?

You grumbled and shook your head, leaving the bedroom to wait for Seokjin by the door. You’d gotten used to seeing him cleaned up and looking ravishing in a tailored suit, but even so it still gave you chills every time he stood close enough for you to get a good look. You wondered, for the first time, what he thought of you.

“Driver’s here, let’s go.”

The night went like most others, but something was different. Compared to the other events where there were mostly older adults and well regarded elders filling the venue, this one was a birthday party celebration for a young cousin, A.K.A a guest list mostly consisting of young adults while still being a formal occasion.

“This is Taehyung, he’s the one having the party,” Seokjin introduced in an almost bored tone, but you were absolutely enraptured by the man in front of you.

“Nice to meet you (Y/n), I’ve heard many good things.” Taehyung smiled, eyeing you up and down before moving on to ask Seokjin some general questions as a catch-up. There was no doubt about it, the man was a treat for the eyes.

No, he was one of the finest specimens you’d ever had the pleasure of looking at.

Your heart kept leaping every time the younger tanned male would gaze in your direction during Seokjin’s update, only being able to fix a smile on your face to try and hide the heat creeping up the skin of your neck and cheeks.

Why are there so many attractive people here?

Your eyes widened when you spotted another handsome man chatting up a group of girls nearby, and then another two were walking together towards the champagne table, acting as if they weren’t snatching the hearts of every young woman in the place.

“May I have a dance with the lady?”

You heard Taehyung’s low raspy voice as he made the request and snapped your gaze to Seokjin to see how he would react. You wanted to dance with the young man, but something about leaving Seokjin’s side felt weird. It’s not like you’d never left him at one of these events before, but tonight you were just brimming with all kinds of depraved tension.

“Sure, I’ll be over with Hoseok and Jimin.” Seokjin nodded, meeting your gaze briefly before turning away. You didn’t know why a small part of you wanted him to refuse the birthday boy’s wish, but you were going to enjoy yourself anyway.

“All good, I’ll take you over to them once we’re done,” Taehyung said to you as you both made your way to the floor. You looked up at him with a smile.

“Have you enjoyed the party so far?”

“Yeah it’s been great.” Taehyung smirked, “Became even livelier when you arrived, milady.”

You couldn’t suppress a gasp of surprise before huffing softly. You reached the floor and the tall man pulled you into his hold effortlessly.

“Your flirting could use some work, it’s a bit outdated. Plus, going for a married woman isn’t something you should practice.” You flashed him your own confident smirk, but he only twirled you around into a sudden dip that had your breath hitching again.

He chuckled, and continued to sweep you off your feet with his skillful dancing. “Come on (Y/n)-ah, it’s all in good fun.”

You already knew you were craving a man’s touch, because you’d been starved of contact for way too long and this dancing was not helping your situation. Taehyung was giving you everything you wanted and more. Letting you fall into him and lose yourself to the music and dance. It was absolutely exhilarating.

“Okay, I think you need to go back to Jinnie.” Taehyung laughed breathlessly as you stumbled off the dancefloor. You couldn’t wipe the grin from your face as you made your way to the food tables, one of Taehyung’s large hands resting on the small of your back and making your insides squirm in delight. At this point you just blamed it on really needing some attention.

“Wouldn’t it be funny if I called him that one day?” You chuckled airily after chowing down on some expensive tasting food to restore your depleted energy. Taehyung stifled his giggle of amusement and put on a serious expression.

“I would condone it, but I’m not sure you’d leave that conversation alive.”

You both let out sniggers as you imagined Seokjin’s deadpan expression, glaring you down before you ultimately met your doom. Though the older male was usually calm and composed when you were alone together, you’d seen him get annoyed or irritated more than a few times around his other more well-known peers.

“Okay I get it, it’s a strictly family or friend nickname. Speaking of, how are you related to him?”

Taehyung finished swallowing his piece of bruschetta and met your eyes calmly. You didn’t know why a sudden sadness had washed over his features, but it was quite jarring to see considering that the man was so bubbly and animated.

“Well I’m his cousin, my mother was known to everyone as Aunty-”

“You guys took an awfully long time getting back,” Seokjin’s voice cut into the sudden tension you’d created for yourselves, and the way you jumped in your skin was utterly embarrassing.

“Hyung you should have seen how much fun she was having! Don’t you dance when you go to parties?” Taehyung cleared his throat and beamed his boxy smile, once again returning to his lively attitude as he poked fun at Seokjin.

You pursed your lips and thought, when we go to dance, it’s to talk, not actually dance.

You exchange a knowing look with Seokjin and scramble around in your brain to try and figure out what to say to the young handsome man before you. How could he possibly know that you weren’t the happily married couple everyone thought you were?

“Yes, we do. Actually, I’m going to take her now.”

You balked as the black-haired man left no room for argument, he gently wrapped his fingers around your wrist and tugged you back towards the dancefloor. You had no choice but to wave a hasty goodbye to a puzzled Taehyung, not feeling the disappointment for long due to the feeling of Seokjin’s warm hand enclosing your wrist.

“This is sudden, is something wrong?” you asked softly, wondering why he appeared so agitated all of a sudden.

“I just needed to take you away from Tae. That conversation wouldn’t have led into anything nice. It’s not a story he should be going around telling people.”

Once again, I need to stop over-promoting myself here. I’m still part of his version of ‘people’, otherwise known as ‘not trusted enough’.

As you made it to the floor, a slow song started playing and there was no need for a proper waltz. You thanked God, because after Taehyung had taken you out you basically had no energy left for proper dancing. Your feet were aching too, and here you thought you’d mastered the art of heels at this stage.

“It’s okay, Seokjin.” You sighed. “If you want to tell me someday then you can, but I won’t pry into it. Just know that I’m here with you as your partner, not just a random girl off the street whose attention is completely paid for all night.”

In other words, I’m not an escort. I’m in this with you, not for you.

Seokjin seemed to be in one of his stunned silences, but when you looked up at him he was simply gazing forwards in some kind of daze. Perhaps he was reliving some old memories? You didn’t know, but you did know how handsome he looked under this lighting. You noticed how you felt at ease in his arms, and how safe and secure this sense of normalcy with him made you feel.

After months of sharing a house and outward appearance with him, things had begun to feel more like home.

When you snapped out of the deep train of thought, you found your arms sliding themselves up and around Seokjin’s broad shoulders, your head leaning into the firm warmth of his chest. Almost as if on instinct, his own hands came up to hold your waist with no sense of the shyness he’d had that first time.

He felt as strong and broad as his shoulders implied.

“What are you doing?” he asked, obviously confused as you just pressed your body closer to him, eyes unfocused as they settled on the sliver of exposed collarbone his shirt had to offer. With his hands keeping you anchored in place against his frame, you felt the most comfortable you ever had throughout the past few months of being together.

“Well, you’re warm and I’m just craving human touch right now. You can blame Taehyung for this if you need someone to pin it on.”

Did I really just say that? I sound drugged.

“Human touch? Did he do something to you?” He repeated your words, sounding so unbelievably perplexed. You let your body sway with his for the next few moments before pulling away, almost losing your cool and snorting with laughter at how he had just gone with it.

“No, he didn’t do anything. I just wanted to know what it was like…” you tapered off, not knowing how to explain how you felt to this man who had never shown any signs of needing, or even wanting the same thing.

“How often do you have cravings … like that?” Seokjin murmured, still confused but keeping his hands firmly plastered on you so that you wouldn’t move away.

“Seokjin, don’t make it sound like some pregnancy snack. If you don’t let me step aside, I’m probably going to do something I’ll regret. I’m too unfocused right now,” you warned, somehow stopping yourself from laughing because you knew he wouldn’t find the humour in it.

“Okay, but answer the question,” he urged while drawing his hands back sharply, as if he’d touched a burning hot iron.

“All the time, okay? All the damn time.”

You sighed, stepping away from his well-built figure. “Growing up with no one around me meant that the only affection and contact I got was either from the staff at home or people at school. With my friends, I was always the reserved one because I was used to less touch and attention compared to everyone else. It’s just how I’ve grown up.”

You’d gotten progressively shyer the longer you spoke, and you were now rubbing one of your arms with a free hand to try and rid yourself of the humiliation. You’d made yourself so vulnerable to him after so many months of both of you just trying your best to coincide with no extra interactions. It was so strange suddenly opening up, and awkward to think that it was in public while being surrounded by many, many people.

Before the black-haired man could respond, the song changed and the couples around you started dancing a little faster. You quickly left the floor and made your way to the refreshments table for some water. Your mouth had become so dry it could rival a desert.

“Hey, you alright?” a loud but deep voice caressed your ear, accompanied by an arm slinging around your shoulders to massage your exposed skin comfortingly. Taehyung looked into your eyes with concern lacing his features, wondering why you’d become so pale.

“Yeah, I just need a drink.” You laughed, leaning into the tall man’s embrace slightly before detaching yourself from the alluring body heat.

“Okay well let me know-”

“Sorry Tae but I think we’re going to head home early.”

Both you and Taehyung whipped your heads up at the sound of Seokjin’s steady tone. You noticed he looked slightly tired, but it was unusual considering how early into the night it was. His beautiful eyes found yours and you almost felt your legs give way at the slight apologetic hint swimming in their captivating depths.

He’s taking you home because he feels bad after what you said, (Y/n).

He never cared before about problems as trivial as this, so why was he suddenly concerned for you? Why was he caring? After all this time, why was he still making your heart beat so erratically?

Yes, you respected him and yes, you wanted him to acknowledge you and have a similar sense of mutuality between you; that was how you built most of your relationships, but this was way too different to be cut from the same cloth. You craved this man in so many ways because you just valued him so fucking much, it hurt sometimes. You cared about him much more than he seemed to care about you, and you’d accepted that very early into the game.

So why was it hurting?

“Okay, yeah I’m feeling a bit beat.” You sighed, downing your cup of water before smiling weakly at Taehyung. The younger man seemed absolutely stunned at your abrupt change of attitude, but you’d already made your way to Seokjin’s side before he could really say much else.

Both of them had just seen you go through a million emotions at once, and it looked like you hadn’t been as skilled at hiding them this time around.

“See you Taehyung, it was really nice to meet you. Hopefully we’ll meet again at the next one.”

You waved, waiting for him to bid his own farewell before turning away. You didn’t want to show him the pained expression making its way onto your face.

Seokjin led the way to the car, as his longer legs meant he could walk that much faster. Usually you’d stop to watch him as he talked to the driver or packed a bag of gifts into the trunk of the car, but you couldn’t bear it for once. you just slipped into your usual seat and waited for your husband to get into his, slowly but surely.

Once he was seated, the car began to move. You and Jin gazed at one another in silence before you finally cracked and caved into the weariness clinging to your bones. You’d been torturing yourself emotionally for too long tonight.

“I’m sorry for what happened. I’ll get over this problem by tomorrow and things will be normal.”

Seokjin’s brows furrowed and he looked like he was going to say something to argue against your words, but then his plump lips pursed, and he heaved a heavy sigh.

“Whatever you say, (Y/n).”

Then he looked away, and you could tell he was thinking hard.

#seokjin x reader #seokjin scenarios #seokjin smut #seokjin imagines #seokjin series #jin smut #seokjin angst #seokjin fluff #arranged marriage au #husband jin #bts jin #bts smut #jin angst #admire #saladejin

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fanficflaneuse · 4 years

Text

To Love Again

A/N: Dearest magical tumblr friends, it’s me again, bringing you yet again another little piece of writing nobody asked for. Here I was, thinking I’d only write Draco x reader inserts (exhibits A and B). But I got this idea a couple of days ago and I couldn’t stop until I wrote it. I haven’t read a lot of Wolfstar (anyone care to explain why this ship is called like this?) fanfics, but I hope I have done a decent job here and you can enjoy it. Also, I don’t really know how the mechanics of it all work just yet, but if you have any suggestions for me to write (like a ship, a reader insert, or just any advice to make my writing less sucky), just send me a message and I’ll try to give it a go <3

Details:

Sirius x Remus (Wolfstar?)

Word count: 2215 (oops!)

Summary: Remus and Sirius survived the war and now, scarred and scared, are trying to figure out how to deal with their feelings for each other.

Disclaimers: A bit of internalized homophobia. One cuss word. Also, the portrayal of Remus’ internal conflict might be laughable. Oh well, hopefully I’ll learn.

For a few months now, Remus found himself waiting eagerly for Friday nights. He’d cradle his little boy in his arms, telling him stories until his hair turned blue and his breathing slowed down. He’d tuck him in bed, close the door, careful to leave it ajar, and wait by the fire until Sirius knocked on his door.

Things had been a little (read very) awkward between them before and during the war. It had taken them a while to even carry a normal conversation that didn’t end up in deafening silence. Remus, who for twelve years had to remind himself every day that his best friend, his love, had betrayed them, was a little apprehensive at first. Even after they proved his innocence, he found himself doubting, longing for what could’ve been instead of allowing himself to live his present. He had grown accustomed to playing the part of the lone wolf. After all, for a long time he had seen himself alone, rejected and betrayed. When he felt ready to let go, he found a very different person than the one he had loved back in his Hogwarts’ days.

Roughened and deteriorated by the dozen years of solitary confinement, Sirius had also changed. He was a fiery, hungry creature. Starved of love, friendship and freedom. Often than not, he lived in his memories. He dreamed about the past and wanted it back, every single bit of it. He wanted Lily’s playful eyerolls and James’ cackling as he played with tiny little Harry. He wanted the laughter when he’d say he’d be the world’s best dogfather. He wanted the get togethers with Andromeda and Ted and their sweet little daughter. He wanted to confide in Peter again, not think of him as the man who had ruined their lives. He wanted Remus – the young Remus – back. The man he had fallen in love with, who wore his ring proudly as they announced they’d get married eventually. Disappointed by reality, Sirius was rough and volatile. Sometimes he wouldn’t know how to act with people around him, not even his beloved Remus, who looked older and more defeated than he ought to be. He no longer wore his ring.

And just when it seemed that they were both healing, that they could start building something again, Nymphadora appeared on the picture. The sweet little girl from the Sunday get togethers with the Tonkses, now a brave Auror, snatched his love away from him. She had brought warmth in Remus’ heart, something Sirius had failed to do. She made him feel loved and wanted. And Remus loved and wanted her in return. As the other members of the Order exclaimed who cute of a couple they were, Sirius said absolutely nothing. He didn’t even dare to mention his ring, much less his feelings again. And he stood on the first row, solemnly, as Remus put a different ring on her finger, imagining it was him in her place. He was also there when she gave birth to a tiny little boy who, much to his father’s relief, wasn’t a werewolf. He was also there when his own not so tiny little Harry had been named godfather to the baby boy, Teddy Remus Lupin, metamorphmagus son of his werewolf.

He had been there as Remus cradled Nymphadora’s limp body in his arms, close to his chest. He was crying and sobbing because his love had been murdered. It was him – Sirius – who had avenged her death. In the most chaotic turn of events, she had been murdered by his cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange. And as the dark bitch witch died with the flick of his wand, he knew that nothing he could do would ever bring his love’s love back. He felt useless, even as the people around him celebrated Voldemort’s second fall.

They had both survived. Scarred and grieving, but they had both survived.

Three years after the war, Remus had taken yet again the position as DADA teacher in Hogwarts. Sirius himself had taken the Transfiguration department and, much to Headmistress McGonagall’s chagrin, had turned it on its head. Students loved him. It did help that his teaching approach involved turning into a dog half of the times. Thanks to him, students were more motivated than ever to learn how to be animagi. He didn’t think he’d enjoy it as much as he did.

Being so close to Remus and Teddy was also a big plus. The first year after the war was rough and more than just a little awkward. Their relationship had suffered greatly and they didn’t know where they stood. The unsaid agreement was that they wanted each other’s company. As Remus learned how to be a good father to baby Teddy, he had hardly any time left to think about something else. After the second anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts flew by, Remus and Sirius found themselves increasingly acknowledging their feelings for each other. Even if the feelings were not exactly as in their memories, the affection manifested itself in shy compliments and gifts, memories, some hand holding here and there. And, as of lately, cuddling sessions on Friday nights.

They hardly ever spoke directly of the matter. Not for a lack of trying, at least on Sirius’ part. But Nymphadora still loomed over Remus’ heart and whenever they even tried to bring it up, Remus would recoil and they would avoid each other for weeks. Today, though, Sirius was determined to change that. He wanted Remus to be his boyfriend. He wanted the three of them to be a family. And he would never replace his first cousin once removed, but he felt he couldn’t spend the next three years or more waiting without no chance of a change.

As he knocked on Remus’ door, he took a deep breath. He was set on not giving in, no cuddles or kisses until the situation was sorted. Then Remus opened the door and engulfed him in a hug he just couldn’t resist. He hugged back and they moved towards the couch in front of the fire. For a while, they sat there, huddled together, in a silence they both felt a bit uneasy.

“What’s got your wand in a knot, Sirius?” Remus asked, sitting up a little bit straighter to look at him in the eyes.

“You,” he answered a bit more harshly than he would have liked.

Remus shot him a worried glance. “Why?”

“I…what is this?” Sirius asked, motioning with his finger the (very short) space between them.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” he answered.

Remus looked away and said nothing. If the silence that engulfed them was deafening.

“You’re allowed to move on, Moony”, Sirius added softly.

Remus furrowed his brow in response. Apart from the love he had for Dora, he felt a sense of duty to her. Old, poor and ugly, she had loved him for who he was. They had gotten married. She had given birth to their son during the war. And she had lost her life for a better world for their son. She was gone for a little over three years and there he was, cuddling and kissing with her cousin, his first love.

“You’re allowed to love again!” Sirius exclaimed, a bit exasperated now.

“Not you!” Remus countered, which left Sirius a bit taken aback.

“Why?” he asked, unable to conceal the resentment in his voice.

“Because you’re…” Remus looked at him from head to toe.

“Is it because I’m a man? Would it be any different if my name was, say, Serena?” he barked.

Remus couldn’t lie to Sirius; he was, indeed, conflicted. What would people think? After marrying a woman much younger than him and having a child together, a relationship with a man? During his schooldays, Sirius had helped him come to terms with his pansexuality, just like his friends had helped him accept his lycanthropy. But still, after so many years, he still shamed himself for both. What would Andromeda say? Him, dating her first cousin. Raising her grandson together. They were much too old for that. Remus couldn’t look at Sirius in the eye.

“You’re Nymphadora’s cousin. You are my son’s cousin!”

“I am Nymphadora’s first cousin once removed. And it doesn’t matter. Moony, what we had was –“

“A phase,” Remus muttered under his breath. It seemed as though he was trying to convince himself as well as Sirius.

“Don’t you dare to say it was a phase, Remus John Lupin. I proposed to you. We…we even talked about adopting. We dreamed about a life together before all of this happened,” Sirius said, his eyes pooling with tears.

“That was a very long time ago, Padfoot,” he said, afflicted by his own words.

“Look at me in the eyes and tell me you don’t feel anything for me,” he countered, taking Remus’ chin in his hand and motioning him to look his way.

“Sirius…”

“What?” Sirius moved closer to Remus, still holding his chin delicately. Sirius was crying now.

“Tell me you don’t love me anymore. Tell me you don’t want me by your side and I’ll leave. I’ll leave immediately. I swear. But don’t make me wait any longer. Don’t made us both suffer anymore under the weight of your prejudices against yourself,” Sirius almost pleaded.

“Please,” Remus said in a very weak voice, “please just let me go”.

Remus was also crying now. The only man he had ever been with was Sirius. He had been his first everything: first kiss, first time, first love. They had discovered each other together. He had dreamed of a life with Sirius. The children, the house, absolutely everything. They complemented each other in ways he had never managed to find in someone else. And he would be lying if he said he wasn’t still in love with him. For as much love he held in his heart for Dora, he had never stopped feeling absolutely everything for his best friend.

Sirius stood up to leave. He wiped away the tears and opened the door, not looking back. As he walked down the corridor to his own quarters, he busied his mind with thinking the exact words he’d write in his resignation letter to Headmistress McGonagall. He didn’t want to process what had just happened. He didn’t want to feel the emptiness in his heart, the feeling that his heart was irremediably shattered. Sirius was so distracted he didn’t hear someone calling his name.

Remus had seen Sirius leave the room. It all felt so definitive that it finally dawned on him: he couldn’t let Sirius go. He was his love. Dora would always be in his heart, in his mind, in his memories, in the son they had together. But Sirius was here. They had a second chance to be happy and he couldn’t waste it anymore.

It was now or never. He ran after his love, calling his name. He saw Sirius, standing in the middle of the hallway and practically ignoring him as he called him. Remus felt his heart break a little over the thought that maybe he had already given up, but he had to be determined now, just as Sirius had been a while ago.

Remus reached Sirius, who kept walking at a very slow pace and wiping away his tears. He tried talking to him, to no avail. So, he resorted to more un-Remus like tactics; he yanked Sirius by the arm and made him turn around. Sirius was taken aback; Remus looked like he had run a marathon. He scanned his lover’s expression for a second, trying to find any clue to his uncharacteristic action, when Remus attacked him with his lips. Sirius gladly complied, giving in to a fiery, hungry kiss that tasted of need and want and love. They were both panting as they pulled away.

Sirius was about to say something, but Remus, still out of character, didn’t let him.

“I love you, Sirius Orion Black. I want you. I want to be with you, forever. I want us to be a family. I’m sorry I have hurt you with my doubts. I was afraid. I still am. Oh, Merlin! But I can’t lose you again. I really…I really don’t know what else to say. Give me another chance, please?” he said impetuously, not even bothering in making sense anymore.

Sirius smiled widely and wiped away a treacherous tear. “I love you too, Moony. I have never stopped loving you”.

They kissed again. This time it was soft and tender. They hugged for what seemed like an eternity and then walked together, hand in hand, to Remus’ quarters.

After a while of cuddling, kisses and promises by the fire, Remus stood up and walked towards an old cabinet on the other side of the room. He rummaged through it for a while, until he found what he was looking for. He walked back and sat next to Sirius, their knees touching just slightly. Sirius distinguished a little velvety box and felt a smile playing on his lips as Remus opened it. There it was, Sirius’ ring, immaculate as ever.

As he put it on Remus’ finger, they both felt whole and happy again.

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datawyrms · 4 years

Text

Ectoplasmic Bonds

Dannymay2020 Day 30: Family

“AHA! I have found you, ghost child. You are no match for my peerless intellect!”

This was weird. Not the ranting and dramatic posing in midair, that was just Technus being the weird little boaster he was. The fact he was boasting at a park with no gadgets in sight was the confusing bit. He’d expected the Box ghost or some random animal when his ghost sense rudely interrupted his Saturday, not the tech crazed monologuer.

“I didn’t know we were playing hide and seek!” His hands glowed green, ready to blast the second his foe made a move. “I know a great place you can hide though!”

“Playing? No, we are not playing hide and seek!” the ghost crossed his arms, almost looking insulted. “We are playing BASIC HEALTH EDUCATION, for your feeble mind is clearly LACKING THIS DATA”

“Uh. What.” Danny blinked, eyebrow raising in bafflement. Blasting the ghost would probably be best, but he hadn’t even taken advantage of his blank stare.

Technus shook his head and tisked at him. “Your cousin let us know about your RECKLESS BEHAVIOUR, ghost child! It is a wonder that you haven’t collapsed!”

“My cou-Dani? Wait why would Dani be buddies with you?” the green glow snuffed out, brain struggling to figure out what was going on. Was it April first? Was this a really complicated distraction plot?

The green skinned ghost tisked again. “By being as reckless as you! Young and thinking you are invincible!”

Well that answered approximately nothing at all. Yet the ghost did seem to be serious, he was getting the distinct impression Technus was scolding him. For something. Maybe he was just having a weird dream. “I still have no idea what you’re babbling about.”

“Your education is LACKLUSTER, child! How can you not know you are starving yourself? You are more a ghost baby than a ghost child!”

“Well excuse me for not getting the ‘ghosts for dummies’ book!” he snapped back, wondering if he should go after the ghost for that baby comment.

“Ah, ah, I am not fighting a half starved toothpick! You put those fists down, child and listen to your elders!”

He was totally scolding him, what the heck. “Ghosts don’t eat, what are you even on about?”

Technus put his face in his hands. “The youth of today! So uneducated!” Yet when he looked back up he just seemed more determined. “Fear is all well and good child, but it is no replacement for ectoplasm! The state of your cousin was appalling!” He seemed to notice how Danny tensed at the mention of ‘cousin’ and continued. “She is FINE thanks to our cardboard enthusiast!”

“Well uh. Thanks for helping her out?”

“It was AVOIDABLE! If you were not so reckless in hanging around over here all the time! Do you WANT to start falling apart from lack of ectoplasm? It is distinctly UNGROOVY”

...Was he actually worried about the two half ghosts? Weird. “Errr no, I would not like to do that, thanks.” He had enough nightmares from just seeing it happen to the other clones.

“Then you must stop AVOIDING returning to the ghost zone! You have not come in over a month! Perhaps exhaustion is a thrill to you, but you take it to RIDICULOUS levels! The cousin was quite WORRIED for you, ghost child!”

Dani had managed to set Technus on him for...not going into the ghost zone. What. That was important? “I don’t think I have to-”

“YOU DO! Do you think ectoplasm will rain from the sky for you here? NUH UH. IT DOES NOT.” He seemed larger, looming over the teenager as he pointed at him. “You might have a big battery but it will still RUN OUT. Then no more RECKLESS ghost child!”

Why did he feel so embarrassed? Why was he even letting Technus of all people chew him out? “Okay, okay! I get it!”

“GOOD. Puddles are very BORING nemeses!” He glared at the jumpsuited teenager for a moment longer before vanishing, apparently planning to keep his word on a lack of fighting.

He really, really hoped all this was just a very dumb dream. People had definitely seen the encounter, it was pretty hard to overlook two ghosts yelling in a park in the middle of the day. Mom would probably call it proof that all his fights were staged, or something fun like that. Not that the truth of ‘he came to yell at me because I’m bad at being a ghost’ was much better.

Mom’s pondering at the table in the evening shot any hope square in the chest. “I suppose they do look similar, colour scheme wise. I’m not sure it’s any proof of a familial relation though, there’s no real reason for such relationships”

Jack nodded, scratching at his jaw before adding his thoughts. “Maybe new ghosts cling to older ones at first before separating off to do their own thing? Phantom’s got some electricity powers, doesn’t he?”

“He does, they do share the tendency to never stop talking as well, come to think of it.”

It was very difficult to not respond to that remark. He was not the kind of scenery chewer Technus was! This was going to be a looooong night.

“It’s just strange. They’ve never shown to have a friendly relationship before now. If they wanted to take the town for themselves it’d make more sense to let Phantom stay ill.”

“Even ghosts want to protect the young of their species?” Jack frowned “I didn’t think the spook was actually a young spirit though.”

“True. Technus might only call him a child because of his appearance. Yet it did look like a parent scolding a child, didn’t he complain about the youth?”

“Well if we can nab one of em, we can see if they share or have similar ectoplasmic signatures! It could be an instinctive thing if they’re ‘related’ that way.”

Danny worked to suppress a groan, rubbing at his forehead. Great. Now they thought Technus was his ghost dad. All his dated references were going to be way worse now! He so wasn’t like him! The second his friends found out it was going to be their new favourite joke.

He never did manage to figure out how to track Dani down, instead getting surprised by her with a tackling hello.

“Does this count as a ghost attack?” he asked, smirking as the the ghost snickered at the question.

“I dono, does it? You aren’t fleeing in terror.”

“Maybe I’m just an out of towner that doesn’t believe in ghosts“

Dani shrugged before landing, taking a few glances around before shifting back to her human form. “Then I guess I’m a ghost that doesn’t believe in ghosts either.”

“New outfit?”

“Yup! And it’s all mine,” her grin was infectious as she grabbed the edge of the thick purple hoodie, fiddling with the dark lining that seemed to have a scattering of stars. “I don’t even feel cold in the zone with this on.”

“You know you don’t have to live in the ghost zone, right? Jazz can probably make up some forgotten branch of the family you’re from, or something.”

“What, and join you in tip toeing around ghost hunters that love and hate you at the same time? No way cuz. If I wanted that, I’d be with Vlad.” she paused with a frown. “Well okay, it was fake love but you get it.”

“Too well.” he shrugged, trying to ignore the rush of irritation from his parents being compared to that absolute fruit loop. “What did you drop by for then? Seeing as you sent Technus after me last time. Which I’m still mad about.”

“Oh you know, catch up with Val, enjoy some sunlight. Nothing big.” she rolled her eyes “I didn’t send him after you! I just mentioned to Boxy how you don’t go to the ghost zone much and I guess he spread it around?”

“Well thanks to that people think Technus is my dad!”

“What, he’s not?” she burst out laughing from the other half ghost’s full body shudder, ducking the half hearted snowball thrown her way.

“Oh you think it’s funny now, just wait until they start saying it about you too.”

“Nope, still funny! Besides, I already got a ghost dad.”

“You what.” he stared, but she didn’t seem to be kidding.

“Well after the whole Boxy making sure I didn’t drop dead from lack of ectoplasm thing a lot of ghosts kinda felt bad for me?” the dismissive wave of her hand seemed a bit forced. “Way easier to deal with over there than with humans. They knew I didn’t really have a place that was mine so they let me stick around for awhile.”

“I guess that was nice of them. You sure it isn’t some trick?”

“You worry too much cuz. You really think I wouldn’t have been super suspicious at first? Already did that once!” her glare made him blush, rubbing the back of his neck. Stupid question, of course she’d be careful after Vlad. “Being a clone with no papers is way easier in the ghost zone, so spending most of my time there just makes sense.”

“Yeah, I guess it is,” He couldn’t imagine wanting to live in that green chaotic world, but he actually had a decent amount going for him on this side. Dani...didn’t.

“So yeah, basically got adopted by Nocturn. He helped me figure out the design, it’s reversible.”

“Wait wait NOCTURN? The guy who tried to put everyone to sleep to take over the world? That one?!” he sputtered, only causing his clone to laugh again.

“Yeah? Everyone likes to try and see how powerful they can be sometimes, did you take it personally?”

“Yeah a little! People could have been hurt! And he dumped me on a random rock in the ghost zone! Then tried to kill me!”

“Everyone tries to kill you.”

“Like that makes it better?! He’s a nutcase!”

“Or maybe you’ve only actually met him once? Everyone wants to try messing with Amity Park at one point. It’s just a thing to try, since you never really seriously hurt anyone.”

“Now you make it sound like the ghost attacks are my fault.” he muttered, quickly realizing Dani didn’t care if he wasn’t exactly a fan of the dream ghost.

“Well they’d come anyway because the human world is cool. Some of them are totally only coming to try stealing the town from you though, sorry cuz.” she shrugged again “Oh! Noc’s pretty impressed by your ice attacks by the way, but he’s still pretty sure Frostbite could help with a few things.”

She nicknamed him! “Noted. Uh. Maybe tell him not to do the whole take over the world and kill me thing again?”

“He won’t. One, I consider you family. Two, watching and learning from dreams is more his thing. The take over the world bit was more of a ‘sure why not give it a go’.”

She seemed so relaxed, even while his mind was yelling that she couldn’t be safe around a ghost like that. Yet she was the one who mostly lived in the ghost zone. She probably would know a lot of his foes better than he actually did...though it still rankled. “Well I’m glad you found more family over there. But I’m not inviting him for lunches.”

“You’ll have to be the one to come visit sometime! You have no idea how scared some ghosts are of you, it’s hilarious. They don’t know you’re a total dork.” She perked up when he stopped crossing his arms.

“Hey, that just makes you dork squared ya know.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“Sure it does. Or not. I’d have to ask Tuck.” he managed to keep smiling, trying not to think too hard about why he’d be considered terrifying to ghosts.

“Or you could ask your daddy” her smirk was vicious as he let out an offended squawk, flinging another snowball after her.

“Don’t even joke about that!”

“Tooooo late! Bye cuz!” her laugh was warm and carefree as she fled from her flustered cousin, vanishing as she darted behind a large bush.

Probably off to go find Valerie now then before headed back home. Still, it was good to know she had a home to go to now. Even if it was with some ghosts he usually had to beat up. Family reunions would be a whole lot messier if she kept that up. Though really, she deserved any kindness she got.

He still wasn’t going to forgive her for the Technus thing though. He was going to need to brush up on dream and sleep puns for proper retaliation.

#dannymay2020 #Danny Phantom #technus #dani phantom #Maddie Fenton #jack fenton #my stuff #brain: ghost adoption #brain also- DANI gets NOT GARBAGE FAM #because srsly she needs some #never have nightmares again with dream control dad #that's probably a plus #HOW IS IT THE30TH

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