#marcus: aw‚ you really think you could last a week! how cute! but‚ you see‚ i was just trying to be nice and i don't think you could last | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

imagines-r-s · 3 years

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sticking it - j. farabee

chapter 6

a/n: now you’ll all see why i said be excited for ch. 6 lmao. (also, with ch. 5 not showing up in the tags for a minute, some might not have seen it, so i’ll link it here) but anyways, this chapter was difficult to write bc i’m not used to writing anything but angst lmao. and huge shoutout to my baby gracie for helping me out with this chapter. please enjoy and i’d love to hear feedback

also, like i told an anon, this is in memory of bee’s hair :(( (he still looks good with the new hair, don’t get me wrong)

taglist: @butgilinsky @barbienoturbby @sunsetholland @lovenhlboys @sortagaysortahigh @hockey-racing-fubol @oopsiedoopsie23 @iwantahockeyhimbo @dreamsndior

warnings: (2) your mom jokes, jealous!joel?, once again simp nation for the both of them, swearing (it’s a problem ngl), idiocy

sticking it masterlist

wc: 4.1k

(gif not mine)

When you told Marcus and Michelle that you had to be out for a month, they advised you to only come to the gym three times a week for two hours for the first two weeks and you’d figure out a plan for the two weeks after, that way you could take a much needed break out of the gym. The thing stressing you out the most was gym and they obviously realized it, so they were hopeful it would give you a chance to breathe.

You planned to go to the gym Mondays, Tuesdays, and Fridays from 6-8am and then you would spend the rest of your day at home doing whatever you needed to do that day. The first Monday you spent those two hours doing ab workouts and helping the other girls around the gym, then you went home and stayed in your room for the rest of the day. You put your phone on do not disturb, so no one heard from you, which caused Kevin to come to your apartment to make sure you were okay.

Tuesday played out the exact same way, early practice, then going home and staying in bed, and Kevin coming to make sure you were alright. Kevin even invited you to come out with him and some of the boys, which you politely declined saying they should have their time together. Wednesday, you simply stayed in bed, choosing to actually keep your phone on today, you were just tired and felt drained from everything going on right now that you couldn’t really muster up the energy to talk to anyone.

Wednesday night, as you were rewatching Marvel movies, your phone started ringing with a call from Ryanne. Quickly answering it, “hey Ry.”

“Hey babes, how’re you doing?”

“I’ve been better, I’ve also been worse, so.”

“Me and Claude were wondering if you’d want to come over and hang out with us and Gav for some of the day, we’ll provide food and such, but we miss you, babe. So, we figured we’d ask while you have a chance.”

In reality, Ryanne had heard from Claude that you wouldn’t be able to do extensive training for at least a month. She might not have known much about gymnastics, but she knew you well enough to know that you were always constantly training - she was well aware that if that ever got taken from Claude that he would be devastated if he was out for that long and with two weeks to prepare for a big game.

She had checked in to see how you were with Kevin one day after practice and when he mentioned everything that was going on, she was worried about you. She knew that she likely wouldn’t be able to help much, but she did know that there was one part of the equation she could help. Knowing that she already had a plan to have a send off party before the boys went on a roadie and also knowing that everyone on the team would be there, she somehow conveniently planned to invite you over a few hours before it started.

“Oh, yeah, I’d love to, honestly. What time do you want me over?”

“Anytime after three is fine. I’ll see you then, hun. Oh, and wear something cute.”

“Why exactly?”

“Just do it,” Ryanne said, not having time to think of an excuse, “bye.”

As you were about to say something else, the ring that told you she had hung up rang out.

…..

Joel wasn’t doing as good as he wanted to be recently and with an upcoming roadie, he knew he needed to spend more time on the ice before the game. Having asked a few of the guys to work with him during an unscheduled morning skate, he was able to work on what he needed to.

“Wait, so she’s out how long?” Joel overheard Travis ask Kevin as he made his way into the locker room.

“Like four weeks, but two weeks with the brace and basically no training, then two weeks with athletic tape on her knee and no hard landings. But she’ll only have two weeks before Championships, so she's not feeling too great about it. Plus, she has to use her brace and crutches again and she didn’t enjoy that the first time,” Kevin replied.

“Is she going to be okay?” Joel hadn’t meant to ask his question aloud, but as soon as Kevin heard his voice a smile grew on his face.

“Yeah, Lover Boy, she’ll be fine. She hasn’t really been up to do anything recently, but other than that I think she’ll be okay. She has to use her crutches again, which is honestly very entertaining,” Kevin stated before turning to leave the locker room, turning right as he got to the doorway, “random question, are you planning on going to G’s for the send off party tomorrow night?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Just wondering,” and with that Kevin was gone, leaving a confused Joel behind.

Kevin knew that you had a lot on your plate right now and that you wouldn’t want to go to anyone about your problems. He also knew that the both you and Joel, were simply too stubborn to fix the problem going on between you on your own, hence why he had mentioned something to Ryanne. He knew that Ryanne would jump at the chance to be able to help you feel better and as soon as she mentioned the party set-up idea, he was in. The plan was then mentioned to most of the team, knowing that the help of many was needed in order to help the two idiots.

…..

After sending Kevin a quick text that you were leaving, you left your apartment and made your way to Ryanne and Claude’s house. Gently knocking on the door, you smiled when Ryanne opened the door, “awe, babe, I’m so happy you’re here, I missed you so much.”

“I missed you, too. Not to be rude, but where is the tiny human?” you asked, looking past Ryanne to see Gavin walking towards you, “hi, bub. Oh my god, you’re getting so big.”

“Well if you came around more often, you’d get to see him more,” Ryanne mumbled, watching you play with the boy in front of you.

“I heard that,” you said, in a sing-song voice.

“You were supposed to,” she replied, mocking your tone, “anyways, Claude is on his way back from the store, so he’ll be here soon, but I haven’t talked to you in forever, how’s everything? How’s gym?”

“Oh, well. I’ve been better, this last meet definitely wasn’t all that great and not being able to train doesn’t really help my case either, but I’m making the most of it,” you said, shrugging.

“And you’re actually having to listen to Adrian this time around?” she said, pointedly, causing you to chuckle.

“Yeah, I have to actually listen to Adrian this time,” you smiled, “I hate that I have to actually wear my knee brace, though. And I have to use crutches. Can you believe that?”

“Considering it’s you, I’m more shocked that you’re actually using them.”

“Ry, shh, let’s not call me out too much today,” you replied.

It wasn’t too long before you heard the front door open, Claude walking in a few seconds later, “awe, it’s my favorite babysitter. Come on, babe, let’s leave while we can.”

“Haha, I almost forgot how funny you are, G,” you said, sarcastically.

“I’m sure, I’m sure. You know what would be nice though?”

“What?”

“Helping me put the groceries up,” he said, smiling sweetly causing you to groan.

“Are chores and babysitting all I’m good for to you?”

“Well,” he looked up to the ceiling, as if he were thinking for another answer,”hm, nothing comes to mind, y/n/n.”

“Oh, that was mean,” Ryanne said, playfully elbowing Claude.

“Thank-”

“She’ll never babysit again if we’re mean to her,” Ryanne smirked.

“Oh, wow, I see how it is, don’t worry,” you said, the three of you laughing.

As the three of you were setting out groceries - you mostly sitting on the kitchen island, taking things out of the bag - the three of you caught up. Claude talking about his hopes for these next few games, Ryanne talking about how Gavin was doing - not missing the few times Gav ran through the kitchen -, and you talking about whatever you could.

“Ok, so we haven’t brought this up yet, but I was just wondering if you had any idea what’s going on with Beezer? I know you guys had gotten closer recently and he’s just not himself, so I’m asking if you know anything,” Claude asked, closing the fridge before turning back to you. Both him and Ryanne had a pretty good idea of what happened, but if they were missing something, they wanted to know.

“Oh, um, well, about that one,” you sighed, gathering your thoughts, “me and him kinda haven’t talked since I told him I only wanted to be friends.”

“Ok, but from the looks of it, it looked like both of you wanted to be more than friends?”

“Yeah, but, there’s a lot more to it, you know.”

“No, actually, I’m a tad bit lost, y/n/n.”

“Look, I can’t have any distractions right now and I was worried about it affecting gymnastics, so I told him I only want to be friends.”

“That’s dumb,” Claude replied, quickly.

“Thank you, many people have mentioned that.”

“He has no place to talk in a situation like this,” Ryanne finally spoke up, causing you to look between the pair confused, “when his life was just hockey, hockey, and hockey, nothing could fill those spots. So, when our relationship was first starting he did the same thing to me that you’re doing to Bee.”

“This was supposed to be a philosophical moment and you messed it up,” Claude replied.

“I didn’t mess it up, you’re just mad because you basically called yourself dumb. But pushing him away isn’t a smart option and it just hurts both of you in the process,” Ryanne said before walking back to where Gavin was.

“Look, I know you said you didn’t want distractions, but this seems to be having a worse effect on you than you hoped. From the looks of it, when you started pushing him away, it affected your performance. Just pointing that out for you.”

“Yeah, I know. You didn’t have to point it out, you know.”

“Yeah, but you would have continued to ignore the obvious fact that you were just scared of a relationship in general,” he shrugged.

“I don’t even know how to talk to him about it or at least how to start the conversation.”

“Well, lucky for you,” he looked down to check his watch, “the guys are all coming over in like 10 minutes, so you’ll see him then.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, it’s a send off party for the roadie this weekend, why do you think we got so many groceries?” and with that he left you in the kitchen by yourself.

…..

Joel sat in the backseat of Kevin’s car, Nolan in the passenger seat, as they made their way to G’s house. By the time they got there, most of the guys had already gotten there, seeing a few familiar cars in the driveway, but one stood out in particular. He knew that it was yours from some of the times he had seen you driving, “what’s y/n/n doing here?”

Nolan and Kevin both chuckled at that, “she came over here earlier to watch Gavin, I think,” Kevin said.

“Oh, cool,” Joel replied, attempting to sound nonchalant as possible

“Don’t try to act like you’re not freaking out. You aren’t slick, dude,” Nolan added, shaking his head, “you two better talk, too. Because everyone is tired of the two of you being idiots and not talking shit out.”

“We’re not idiots.”

“You are,” the other two said in unison. Joel didn’t try to argue as he followed the pair inside their captain’s house.

As soon as he entered the house, he took note that almost all the team was here, most of the team was outside, but he immediately found you sitting on one of the barstools with Gavin sitting on your lap as you talked with Ryanne. “Go talk to her,” Nolan whispered, causing him to jump.

“God, Pat. What the fuck?” Joel said turning around.

“I said what I said. You’ll have to talk at some point, might as well just do it. Plus, she’s on crutches, so like, if she wants to run away it will take her a while.”

“Um, that’s- I mean, that’s valid, but-”

“At some point today, you should talk to her. I obviously can’t make you and it’s up to you, but I think it would help fix things,” Nolan said, shrugging.

“Yeah, I know, I know. I plan on it.”

You and Ryanne had stayed inside with Gav since the boys were grilling outside, so when Nolan, Kevin, and Joel walked in, you were one of the first people to notice. Kevin made his way over to you almost as soon as he came in, “so, you enjoying the party?”

“Considering I didn’t know it was happening, sure I’m having a great time, Kev.”

“Well, I guess it’s a surprise party then,” you quickly shot him a glare, “surprise.”

As you heard the back door open, you looked up to see Joel already looking at you, shooting you a quick smile as he followed his teammate to go outside. “I swear, if all you guys do tonight is spare glances at each other and don’t talk, I’m going to lose it,” Ryanne said from beside you.

“I think everyone will, to be honest,” Kevin added, “well, I’m going outside. If you need any help, just let me know.”

The boys had a few different plans in place to get the two of you to talk; conveniently sending Joel in to help while you were inside, telling Joel to go help out inside, asking Joel to get Gavin, and as a last resort, make Joel jealous.

When everyone had been done eating, Claude asked some of the younger guys to help him clean up and bring out the cooler with drinks that was still inside. Joel had somehow conveniently avoided going inside while helping and when he did, he went straight to the kitchen and right back out. He wasn’t wanting to avoid you all night, but he didn’t know what to do. Shortly after, Claude had asked Joel to go in and get Gavin, somehow right as you had left Gavin with Ryanne, which also ruined that plan.

Ryanne knew that it would be suspicious if they kept trying those same plans. So instead, she basically forced you to go outside with her. She helped you get outside, Kevin shooting up from his chair to help you get down the stairs of the deck, “you don’t have to help me out, Kev.”

“Knowing you, you would trip and break something. You’re already hurt enough,” he said, causing you to roll your eyes. As Kevin looked up, he didn’t miss the way Joel lit up as he saw you, “hey, your boy is looking over here.”

Looking up, your eyes once again met his, to which you sent him a light smile, “yeah, he’s been watching me since I stepped out here.”

“y/n/n, you would only know that if you were looking at him, too.”

“Yeah, I never said that I wasn’t though.”

“You know, it’s obvious the two of you aren’t mad at each other or anything like that. So, why the fuck haven’t you talked yet?”

“Oh, um. Words are hard,” you said, walking away towards Travis and Nolan on your crutches.

“You’re literally on crutches, you aren’t moving that fast.”

“You know who else isn’t moving that fast?”

“y/n. I swear, if this is another your-”

“Your mom,” you yelled back to him.

“What is up with you and making your mom jokes?” Nolan asked as you got closer to them.

“They’re funny?”

“y/n/n just has the sense of humor of a middle school boy, that’s why her and Beezer got along so well,” Travis added, helping you move your crutches so you could sit down at the table they were at, “how are the crutches?”

“How’s your mom?” you laughed, causing the two of them to groan, “nah, they’re not fun. In any way shape or form.”

As you were talking to Nolan and Teeks, Kevin and Ryanne realized that none of the plans they had tried were working. Both of them knew that the only plan that would probably work was to make Joel jealous, so Kevin texted Carter, Morgan, Nolan, and Teeks to let them know that was the plan that they were going with.

“y/n looks really good today,” Carter said, causing Joel to spit out his drink.

“Better watch yourself, Hartsy,” Joel replied, shooting a glare towards his friend.

“I was just being honest, she really does. There’s nothing going on between you guys anymore, right?” Carter watched as Joel visibly tensed at the mention of what was happening between the two of you, knowing that the plan was working he continued, “I mean, if nothings going on between you two, then she’s single, right?”

“Well, I mean-” Joel stuttered out, “we haven’t talked in a while, but that doesn’t mean-”

“I’ll be right back, okay?” Carter said, making his way over to the table you were at, causing Nolan and TK to chuckle as they saw Joel’s face drop, “hey, y/n/n.”

“Hey, Hartsy, it’s been a minute. How is everything?” you smiled. You kept talking to the group around you for a while, not noticing the way Joel was becoming visibly angry. He didn’t want to seem jealous, but he assumed that Carter had been flirting with you this whole time, so he made the executive decision to talk to you now.

Since your back was facing him, you didn’t see him coming, but the three boys around you did, only trying to hide their smiles since the plan was actually working. “Hey y/n, can we talk?” he asked.

You turned around to finally face the boy you had been avoiding, “yeah, hold on a sec.” As you continued some of your conversation, Joel was getting more and more irritated, mostly because Carter was sending looks his way that he couldn’t exactly read. Joel, being the impatient person he was, pulled the chair you were sitting at away from the table, pulling you up to stand before lifting you up over his shoulder, “Bee, what the fuck?”

He simply ignored you as he carried you up the stairs and back inside his captain’s house. You tried pushing yourself off as he made his way up the stairs, but it was deemed useless when he just tightened his grip, “Farabee, I swear to god. I will hurt you.”

Eventually, he opened the door to the guest bathroom and gently set you down on the counter before locking the door, “what the fuck was that for? If you want to talk, you could have just waited a second. But no, you had to be all dramatic about it,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“Are you done?” Joel asked, crossing his arms and leaning back against the door.

“I mean, yeah. Are you?”

“Yeah, but I’m tired of us ignoring each other and I miss you, so we need to figure stuff out.”

“Awe, you miss me? That’s cute,” you smiled.

“y/n/n, I swear, now is not the time for that one.”

“Ok, sorry. I’ll be serious now,” you said, crossing your arms to mock him.

“I just want to know what happened at the lake?”

“Oh, we’re going straight to the point, alright,” you sighed, “look, what I said at the lake wasn’t true. I got this idea in my head that if you were in my life, you were a distraction from what I wanted.”

“How’d that work out for you?” he said, smirking.

“Oh, no, see that’s what we’re not going to do. No need for the attitude. Anyways, I had this idea that if anything happened between us, that I would mess it up and it would mess everything in my life up. So, pushing you away was the safest option.”

Joel took a moment to gather his thoughts before pushing himself off the door and made his way closer to you, ending up standing between your legs with his hands on either side of you, “look, I’m saying this and I mean it. I understand where you’re coming from with the fear of distractions thing, but I want you to know that I would never intentionally keep you from your goals and dreams. I’m just extra support, you know.”

“Yeah, I realized that after you ran from the lake house. We could have had this figured out by now, if you had stayed,” you said, sarcastically. Rolling your eyes for added dramatic effect.

“Oh, shut up. You have no place to talk, babe,” he said, smiling when he heard you giggle, “what was that for?”

“I kinda missed you calling me babe, I guess. Kinda crazy, dude.”

“Awe, so you did miss me?”

“I never said I didn’t,” you said, quietly reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. You saw the way that his eyes went from your eyes to your lips, “I also missed this,” and with that you pulled him closer until your lips met in a long awaited kiss.

As the two of you broke away, your foreheads were still together, “hey, Bee?”

“Yeah?”

“You know who else I missed? Your mom,” you laughed.

“Way to ruin the moment, babe,” he smiled, “That was funny though, so I respect it.”

“Dude, I’m so funny sometimes.”

“Looks aren’t everything, babe,” he said, laughing at the gasp you responded with.

“Oh, that was rude. I’ll get you back one day though,” you watched as he went to leave the bathroom, “hey, Bee. I’m not supposed to walk without crutches, hate to break it to you.”

Rolling his eyes, he made his way back to you, turning around right in front of you, “here.” You leaned a little bit forward, wrapping your arms around his neck once again as he readjusted his grip on the back of your legs, so he could give you a piggyback ride on the way back outside.

“You know, they didn’t tell me there was a party,” you spoke as he made his way back towards the door.

“Oh, they said it was teammates only and then I saw your car,” he replied, pausing a moment as the two of you realized what had happened at the same time, “so, this was-”

“Yep.”

“And Hartsy saying he was going to ask you out was part of it?”

“Hartsy said he was going to do that,” you started cackling. “Wait, were you jealous of him?” you asked laughing even harder.

“It’s not funny.”

“Oh, yeah. I know, it’s hilarious.”

“I will drop you right now,” he said, as he opened the door for outside, “and you’ll stuck right here, Ms. ‘I can’t walk down stairs right now’.”

“That’s a low blow,” you said, as the two of you made your way back to the table you were at.

“Oops, sorry, babe,” he set you down close to your chair, but sat down before you could.

“Oh, so now you steal my chair, too?”

“Oh, shut up, you’re fine,” he said, pulling you to sit in his lap, “there you go.”

“So, I see the two of you made up?” Nolan asked, pointing at the two of you.

“We also made out, in case you were wondering,” Joel replied, earning an elbow to the stomach, “ow, that hurt.”

“Sucks to suck, babe,” you replied, causing the smile on his face to grow even more.

When Kevin and Ryanne watched the two of you walk back outside, they were happy to see that the plan worked. Ryanne simply laughed and shook her head as she heard the exchange between the two of you, “they are so in love and I don’t even think they realize it.”

“Ryanne, that is a big word, that I’m not prepared for. So, please, let’s not do that today,” Kevin replied, earning a laugh from Ryanne, “they’re happy though, that’s all that matters to me.”

#sticking it #joel farabee #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #philadelphia flyers #joel farabee x reader #joel farabee imagines #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #beezer #joel farabee x gymnast!reader

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bumblebee-moreno · 3 years

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Awkward meetings (GN!reader)

Request: "Awkward first meeting for all the boys" and "Awkward first meeting and You lost something very important to you and they’re helping you look for it with Frankie Morales" for @luminescentlily

(Boys included are: Din, Javier Peña, Agent Whiskey, Frankie Morales, Max Phillips, Marcus P, and Marcus M.

Warnings: None?

A/N: Sorry this took so long to write. I had to leave a few boys out due to writer's block (Ezra, Tovar, and Zach Wellison), and I wanted to get this posted rather than continuing to stare at the screen in hopes of my brain miraculously functioning. To make up for my lack of inspiration at least a little bit, I added Marcus Moreno. Hope that's ok :)

Din Djarin

You feel a tug at your pant leg. Looking down, you are greeted by a pair of large watery eyes and big green ears. “Well hello there,” you smile, crouching down to be closer to the small child. “Where’s your family?”

He simply responds by lifting his arms towards you. You take that to mean he’d like to be lifted up. Scanning through over the crowded marketplace, you search for someone who the kid might belong to. You really have no idea what you’re looking for, having never seen anything like him, but you search nonetheless.

“Hey!” an angry voice calls out behind you. You whirl around, and before you know what’s happening, the child has been torn from your grasp and there’s a blaster to your head.

“I wasn’t going to hurt him I swear, I was just trying to find his family,” you blurt out, raising your hands in surrender.

The figure in front of you doesn’t respond at first, keeping his blaster pointed at you while he inspects the child for injury.

“Why did you have him?” The voice from under the helmet demands.

“I just found him by himself and I wanted to make sure he found his family,” you explain, voice shaking. “Are you his… Does he belong to you?”

“… yes.” He cautiously returns his blaster to its holster.

“I’m sorry,” you relax. “I didn’t mean to scare you. He’s just so… small. I didn’t want him to stay lost.”

The Mandalorian clutches the kid close to his chest as if he’s afraid they’ll be separated again. “Thank you.” He nods his head just enough for you to see the motion.

Javier Peña

“Shit, I’m going to be so fucking late,” you mutter to yourself, walking as fast as you can without sending the tall stack of papers in your arms flying.

On your way down the hall, you start going down your mental checklist.

‘Closed the window so the cat doesn’t escape? Check.’

‘Turned off the lights? Check.’

‘Locked the front door? Fuck.’

You stop in your tracks. How could you forget to lock your front door? You spin on your heel and run back towards your apartment, your one free hand switching between searching for your keys and adjusting the unstable tower balanced on your other arm.

In your haste to get your apartment locked so you can get to work on time, you fail to watch where you’re going.

Your body smacks into another. You fall backwards, losing your grip on the meticulously organised files. They scatter across the floor, completely losing the order you’d spent all night putting them in. The wind is knocked out of you for just long enough to hear the man you ran into grumping about how you should watch where you’re going.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I’m running late, I should’ve been paying more attention.” You pull yourself to your knees and start gathering your work off the floor. You’d normally stand and make sure the man you ran into is okay, but things at work are tense as it is, and being even later than you already are isn’t going to reflect well on you. Especially now that all of last night’s hard work needs to be done over.

You expect him to get up and walk past you. After his reaction to being practically tackled, you wouldn’t expect him to give you more than a second thought. But then a stack of papers lands on top of the one you’re already holding.

Your eyes shoot up to meet his. “You okay? You hit the ground kind of hard there,” Your neighbour asks.

You swallow thickly. “y-yeah, I’m fine,” you give a shaky smile. “How about you?”

“I’m all right, just running a bit late,” He offers a hasty smile before helping you to your feet. “I gotta get to work, but um, I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, momentarily forgetting how late you are.

Agent Whiskey

‘Ugh I really needed this day off,’ you type underneath the photo before pressing send.

You place your phone on the edge of the tub before relaxing back into the warm water.

It isn’t long before your phone buzzes. Your eyes widen in horror at the response:

‘I think you’ve got the wrong number, darlin’.’ It’s paired with a photo of a man you’ve never met.

He is kinda cute though. You’d never think the whole “unironically cowboy” thing could ever work but… No. No. You can’t be thinking that kind of stuff. You just texted a stranger a photo of you in the bath for fuck’s sakes, you can’t be attracted to him after that!

You frantically scroll up to examine the photo you sent, breathing a sigh of relief when you confirm that the photo you sent didn’t have anything too revealing in it; between the angle of the camera and the bubbles in your bath, nothing too embarrassing is visible.

‘Shit, I’m so sorry, that was meant for a friend ’

You pick up the shred of paper your best friend scribbled their new number on while you were at lunch with them yesterday, to figure out what happened.

‘not a problem, It’s a nice distraction from this god awful meeting I’m stuck in’

You frown. ‘You’re in a meeting and you’re texting a total stranger?’

You return your gaze to the phone number in your hand. “what in the fuck,” you say aloud to yourself. The second to last digit. It’s supposed to be a 4. Not a 9.

A shaky photo appears on your phone. It’s obviously taken from peeking just the camera of his phone over the edge of the table.

‘Damn, that looks like a serious meeting, shouldn’t you be paying attention?’ If you were texting at work, especially in a meeting, you’d have your ass handed to you unless someone was dying (and even then, it would depend on what kind of mood your boss is in that day). And this guy is just casually texting you, a stranger, during a meeting with people who look like they make more money weekly than what your whole car is worth.

‘I’m a bit more concerned that I don’t even know the name of the person who texted me such a lovely photo 😉’

‘It’s Y/N.’ you send. ‘And please delete that picture, that’s kinda private’ you ask, crossing your fingers that he respects that.

‘Already done. Mine’s Jack, since you obviously weren’t going to ask 🤠’

A soft smile appears on your face. Maybe it is kind of okay that you accidentally typed in the wrong number. Or… it will be after you (lovingly) cuss out your friend for having such bad handwriting.

Frankie Morales

“Shit.” You mutter to yourself, searching through your pockets. “shitshitshitshitshitshitshit” You swear you just had them. Or… maybe you left them on the counter back at the library?

You turn around to run back, rifling through your bag. You only make it a few steps before you’re knocked backwards to the ground.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” you blurt the moment you catch your breath again. Barely sparing a glance towards the man you ran into, you start gathering your books.

“No, no. I’m sorry,” the man insists. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.” He helps to gather your books.

“You okay?” he finally asks.

You look up at him and freeze. He’s really cute. In the ‘I give the best hugs in the world’ kind of way.

“Yeah,” you respond breathlessly. “I just think I lost my car keys at the library, and I’m running late for lunch with a friend.” You mentally kick yourself. You just ran over the only attractive man you’ve seen since moving here, and then the first thing you do is overshare?

“Oh, did you want some help looking?” he immediately offers.

“I wouldn’t want to be any trouble.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he shrugs. “I’ve got lunch plans I’m desperately trying to find an excuse to get out of, so you’re helping me, really.”

“Okay, um… sure,” you nod. “an extra set of eyes looking wouldn’t hurt.”

“Cool. I’m Frankie.”

You introduce yourself and shake his outstretched hand.

The two of you make your way back towards the library.

“so…” you break the uncomfortable silence. “Lousy lunch plans, huh?”

“…yeah,” Frankie falls silent for a moment. “A couple of guys I used to serve with invited me out and I didn’t really have an excuse to say no.”

“Don’t get along with them?”

“We used to be friends, but I’m kind of rethinking that lately.”

“Oh,” you debate asking more questions. But then again, he doesn’t have to answer if he doesn’t want to, right? “Did… did something happen?”

“Convinced me to go to South America a while back, which would’ve been fine, except we kind of got stuck there, and my wife was left alone with the baby.”

Your stomach dropped at this. You’re not even sure why; you just met the guy, you really have no reason to be disappointed he’s taken.

“Was she at least understanding?” You ask.

“huh?”

“Your wife.”

“Oh,” Frankie chew his lip for a moment. “no. When I got back, she was… possessive. Searching my phone, never letting me go out with friends, that kind of stuff. Separated a few months later.”

“Oh,” you try to ignore the fact that your heart skipped a beat; you can’t be excited—that’s insensitive. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be.” Frankie pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry, actually. I was helping you find your keys, and here I am ranting about my whole tragic backstory as if you actually cared.”

“I don’t mind.” You actually like listening to him. But you keep that to yourself.

“You shouldn’t have to listen to all that though—”

“Shit!” you interrupt him. “I’m such an idiot.”

“What? What’s wrong?” Frankie looks like he’s assuming the worst.

“…I didn’t lose my car keys. I walked here. And lunch with my friend is next week.” You chuckle bitterly. “I was so lost in my head I completely forgot she rescheduled. Sorry I wasted your time.”

“It’s okay,” Frankie laughs. You can’t help but smile at his lopsided dimple. “Hey, since you don’t have lunch plans and I want to get out of mine… Can I take you out? You can tell me your life’s story since you already know mine?”

“Sure,” you smile, though half of you is screaming to just leave the country to escape the embarrassment.

Max Phillips

“Ew, no.” you scrunch your nose.

“Hey, you’re the one that lost the bet.” Eva insists.

“I am not kissing a random stranger.” You sweep your gaze across the crowded café.

“It was your idea.” Eva sips her tea.

“That was because I thought I was going to win.” You cross your arms across your chest.

“You don’t get to opt out just because you’re a sore loser.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know them, what if they have a disease or something? Gross.” Your stomach turns at the idea.

“Okay, fine.” Eva sighs. And, for a fleeting moment, you have hope that she’s given in. “Kiss that guy then,” she points.

You turn. “Oh my god, Eva. No.”

“What? He doesn’t look like he has a disease,” Eva shrugs.

“He looks like a frat boy.”

“He’s cute though.” Eva leans in a not-at-all-subtle way to get a clearer view of him.

“I hate you.” You stand up. “And when I’m done, you’re buying me an entire bottle of vodka to wash my mouth with.”

“Yes!” Eva cheers triumphantly. A few people shoot her expressions of annoyance at the outburst.

You storm over to the man and pull him in by the collar. His lips barely brush against yours before you’re stomping back to your friend. Though, for a moment, you actually consider staying to talk to him. Eva was right, he definitely isn’t hard on the eyes.

You push the thought from your mind and collapse back into your seat, scowling at your friend.

“You’re literally the worst human being on the planet,” you huff.

“You’re just being dramatic,” Eva laughs.

“Am not.” Okay… maybe you are, but Eva can’t know that.

“Fine. We’ll go get you a drink once I’m back from the bathroom.” Eva skips off, still laughing about your reaction.

She’s barely out of sight before her seat is filled by the stranger you just kissed.

“Don’t flatter yourself, I lost a bet,” you don’t look up at him, instead choosing the glare at a stain on the wooden table.

“I figured as much.” You can practically hear the smirk in his voice. “I also figured I have the right to at least know the name of the person who just kissed me.”

You reluctantly introduce yourself, still refusing to make eye contact with the man.

“I’m Max. And, if you want to apologise for kissing me without my consent,” he throws a napkin with a phone number scribbled in red sharpie onto the table in front of you, “You can call me.”

Marcus Pike

You hum quietly to yourself, unable to stop smiling. It’s been so long since you’ve gone on a real date. You turn on your shower, but instead of water coming from the showerhead, it starts leaking from the base of the hose.

That can’t be good. You turn off the water and fiddle with the shower. Maybe it just came loose.

You reach for the handle to try the water again. But before your hand can even touch the cool metal, the entire shower head disconnects from the wall and clatters to the shower floor.

Letting out an exasperated groan, you start gathering your clothes into a bag. You really don’t have time for this today. Crossing your fingers your neighbour is home, you head next door.

You’ve never actually talked to him, but you figure he’s probably a safer bet than the crazy old neighbour on your other side; the way he looks at you whenever you run into him gives you the jitters. And not the “he’s a creep” kind of feeling you get when anyone else stares for too long. More like the “he’s probably got a taxidermy cat in his living room and a human body in his closet” kind of feeling. So the neighbour you’ve never even introduced yourself to will have to do.

Your knock echoes through the quiet air. Shifting from foot to foot, you wait impatiently for an answer.

The door clicks open, leaving you face-to-face with your neighbour, who is way cuter up close than you expected him to be.

“…hi,” He greets you as if he’s startled by your presence.

“…hi…” you bite your lip and tear your gaze away from his face to examine your shoe. “I… Well, I live next door, and well—”

“I know,” he interrupts.

“I-What?”

“I’ve seen you… around. We get home from work at the same time, so…”

“Oh.” You chew on your lip for a moment. “Look, my shower broke, and I have a date I have to get to, and well…” you drift off. Are you really asking your irresistibly adorable neighbour who you’ve never met if you can use his shower?

“Oh. Okay, did you want to use mine then?” You pretend not to notice how pink his face has turned.

“Would you mind? I just—I’m running late and I don’t have time to figure out what’s wrong with mine before I leave and still have time to get ready to go.”

“Sure, Come on in,” He shuffles out of the way to allow you space to enter. “Down the hall, second door to the right.”

“Thank you so much,” you smile awkwardly. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

You walk as quickly as you can without breaking into a run to get to the bathroom, leaving Marcus frozen in the doorway.

This is not how he imagined meeting you. Not that he imagined that at all. And he definitely hadn’t spent hours trying to figure out how to ask you out. Because that would be weird.

And he just let you use his shower to go on a date with someone else.

Fuck.

Marcus Moreno

“Excuse me,” a voice speaks up from behind you, just barely audible over your music. You turn around to find that the voice belongs to a young girl.

“Hello,” you greet taking out your headphones.

“Do you see that guy over there?” she asks, pointing across the cluttered bookstore to a man struggling to balance a tower of books while skimming the shelves for more.

“The one in the glasses?” you confirm.

“That’s my dad,” the girl nods. “He thinks you’re cute, but he’s too afraid to talk to you.”

“Oh,” you say, unsure whether you should be flattered or amused.

“He says it’s ‘cause he doesn’t want to weird you out,” she elaborates, “but I think he’s scared you won’t like him back.”

The man glances up, and, upon seeing his daughter talking to you, rushes over. He pauses only briefly when he trips over a box of books placed in the middle of the walkway.

“Oh, here he comes, act natural,” the girl whisper-yells just before her father arrives. “Oh, hey dad,” she greets him nonchalantly.

“Missy, what did we just talk about?” he scolds.

“I know, I know,” she rolls her eyes. “I shouldn’t go up to strangers and tell them my dad thinks they’re cute even when he totally does.”

Missy’s dad freezes, a look of horrified embarrassment washing over his face. “You… You told them what?”

“I’m going to shop some more,” she walks away, winking at you.

“Hey, you get back here, young lady,” he calls after her, struggling not to raise his voice above a murmur in the middle of the peaceful book shop. His daughter ignores him.

He groans under his breath. “I’m sorry about her,” he turns back to you.

“It’s okay,” you laugh. “I’m Y/N,”

“Marcus.” He looks down at his armful of books. “I’d uh… I’d offer a handshake but…”

“Don’t worry about it,” you smile. Marcus smiles back. You allow a moment of uncomfortable silence before speaking up again. “So… you think I’m cute?”

“What? No! I mean, Yes. I mean…” Marcus’ face scrunches up in embarrassment. “Yes? But not… not in a weird way. I wasn’t like… admiring you or anything. That’d be… weird.” Marcus hangs his head with an exasperated sigh. “I’m sorry. I’ll just shut up now.”

You smile again at the flustered man in front of you. After a moment, you pull a pen from your sweatshirt pocket.

“Well, here’s my number,” you say, writing as clearly as you can across his forearm. “You can text me if you decide you do think I’m cute… In a weird way.”

You walk to the counter to pay for your books, sincerely hoping he decides to text.

---

Taglist:

@pascalisthepunkest @trashbin2 @anatanotegami @beesting77 @northernpunk @pumpkin-stars

#Din djarin #Javier Peña #Agent Whiskey #Frankie Morales #Max Phillips #marcus pike #marcus moreno #gender neutral reader #gn reader #pedro pascal

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aerynwrites · 3 years

Note

If you're still doing marcus requests... do you think you could write something where he just broke up with Teresa and is preparing to go to DC, and the reader is his best friend, but she tries to muster up the courage to confess that she loves him before he goes? Thank you 💕

AHhh this is so cute! Thanks for requesting this! <3

Stay

Marcus Pike x Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: tiny bit of angst followed by fluff!

Love is a funny thing.

It’s a funny thing simply because it can be so many things at once. It can be a warm slow growing feeling that begins as butterflies in your tummy before eventually moving it’s way into your heart. It can be an all at once feeling that seems to blow you off your feet. It can be a comforting feeling that reminds you of home and all the wonderful things that come with it. But it can also be sad. It can make your heart ache and your fingertips tingle. It can make your stomach roll in anxiousness, and make your mind run wild with all the different outcomes. But most of all, love is a powerful thing, able to make even the strongest man crumble beneath the weight of it all.

Which is what happened to your best friend.

You watched as Marcus experienced everything that love is, before the woman of his affections snatched it away when she realized her true feelings lied in another. While you were there as he cried on your shoulder and held you tightly in his arms as his grief ran out of him like a river, you couldn’t help the small sense of relief that washed over you. You too have experienced what Love is, except it was for the man who had cried in your arms, for the man you knew you could never have because he only saw you as his friend.

You too knew that Love can be sad.

You witnessed the awful ache that spread it;s tendrils through your chest when he told you he was leaving. You felt the way your stomach seemed to turn in on itself as you stood outside his door, ready to lay everything before him, no matter the outcome. Because you also knew all the good that Love can be, and that outweighed the bad, tenfold. And if there was even the slightest chance that Marcus could return the love you held for him, then you had to take that leap of faith.

You stood outside of Marcus’s apartment, wringing your hands together nervously as you built up the courage to knock on his door. It had been several weeks since Teresa had broken things off with Marcus, broken his heart. And now, he is leaving for DC, having told you the news over one of your weekly movie nights with empty Chinese takeout containers lying on the coffee table. You had held back your tears, shielded your crumbling heart as you hugged him and wished him the best. Because that;s what friends are supposed to do right? Encourage each other to pursue what’s best for them and what they want to do. Yet, as you hugged him and he hugged you back, you were unaware of the other heart breaking right across from yours.

Marcus didn’t want to leave you. In fact he had hoped you would reduce his plan, ask him to stay so he had a reason too. Because, unbeknownst to you, Marcus had only pursued Theresa because he never thought he could have you. He hadn’t realized this until later, after he had been talking to you one night after the break up. But it seems even you didn’t want him around enough to ask him to stay. So he made the arrangements to go to DC, hoping time away from everything would help him forget.

Marcus was actually packing the last of his bags when you took a deep breath and knocked firmly on his door. You shifted from one foot to the other anxiously as you waited for him to answer, and you felt your heart rate speed up as you heard his footsteps nearing the door. When the lock clicked and the door was pulled open to reveal the face of the man you loved, you felt a small if somewhat nervous smile come to your face.

“Hey Marcus,” you greet quietly.

He beams at you, holding the door open wider to guide you into the apartment, “Hey, I didn’t expect you to come by,” he says, closing the door behind you and shoving his hands into his pockets as he looks around the mostly empty apartment, “I’m not really in the best spot to entertain right now,” he jokes.

You shake your head and send him a small smile, “You know I don’t care Marcus,” you say, “I just came by too…” you trail off, unsure of how to segway into what you want to tell him, “I wanted to see you again before you left,” you say finally, eyes falling to the floor.

His eyes soften at your words, as if he himself had forgotten that he's moving across the country. He shifts on his feet for a moment before finally speaking again, “Why do I feel like that’s not the only reason you came all the way across town?”

You feel tears well up in your eyes at his words. Ever the FBI agent, trained to notice all the little things. Before you can stop yourself you launch yourself into Marcus, wrapping your arms around his middle and burrowing your face in his chest. Your tears soaking through the white t-shirt he’s wearing.

“Please don’t go, Marcus,” you beg quietly, voice wet with tears, “I don’t know what I’m going to do if you go.”

After his momentary shock at your sudden actions, Marcus wraps his arms around you tightly, resting his head atop your own, your name falling from his lip, “I’ve already made the transfer...and all of my things have been moved down there. I can’t just-”

“I love you.”

Your voice is barely a whisper as the words slip past your lips, but Marcus hears them, and you feel his entire body tense, but you don’t move from your position in his arms. Instead you pull him tighter to you, afraid if you let go he’ll run away.

“That’s what I came here to tell you,” you admit, “I’ve felt like this for a while now but never said anything because I didn’t want to ruin what we had, and then you and Theresa -”

You hadn’t even been able to finish your sentence before Marcus was pulling you away from him, cradling your face in his hands and crashing his lips to yours. It didn’t take you long to respond, your body melting into his, as your hands rested on his wrists. Your tears seem to flow harder now, mixing together where your lips meet as you are bombarded with an onslaught of mixed emotions. Your lips move against his naturally, as if you both had done this a million times despite this being your first kiss. Marcus pulls away slowly after a few moments, both of you desperate for air. His hands stay where they are, his thumbs wiping at the tears on your cheeks, as your own hands fall to his chest.

“Marcus? W-what, why did you-”

“I love you too,” he rasps, resting his forehead against your own, “I didn’t realize it then, but I love you so much, and I only used my relationship with Theresa as a way to try and smother my feelings for you.”

You pull back from him slightly, his hands falling from your face to rest on your hips instead, “Why didn’t you say anything?” you whisper, confusion tugging at your brows.

He chuckles and shakes his head, “Same reason you didn’t,” he says, “Because I’d rather have you as a best friend than not have you at all.”

You smile at his words, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment before looking up at him, “Well I hope after that kiss we can be more than best friends now.”

Marcus lets out a laugh and nods, “I think I can agree to that,” he says quietly, his demeanor turning sheepish before he speaks again.

“Stay the night?” he asks, pressing a short kiss to your lips, “Please?”

You smile and return the kiss quickly before nuzzling your head into his chest again, “Of course, Marcus. And I hope you’ll call and cancel that transfer tomorrow.”

Marcus smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before resting his cheek against it once again, content to finally be holding you in his arms.

“Anything for you, sweetheart.”

Tags:

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Marcus Pike Tag: @stanfordscrush

#pedro pascal x reader #marcus pike x reader #pedro pascal #marcus pike #the mentalist

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raindancer2004 · 3 years

Text

Vacation on Isle Esme

Word Count: 6,712 Demetri x OC Part 8 - Final Part. Warning: Fluff, NSFW, Angst.

The following morning Felix, Santiago, Jane and Alec were in the training room with the lower and transitory guards when Demetri and Ally arrived “Newborn Alert” Santiago called out playfully; the vampires in the room turned to look at Ally, some whistled, others murmured “Wow! She’s hot” Demetri felt a mix of pride and jealousy hearing the guards comments about Ally, if she was human she’d be blushing, her new hearing allowing her hear their comments.

“The masters don’t normally allow newborns in the castle so how come Alyssa’s allowed in the castle, she’s a newborn?” One of the transitory guards asked “They made an exception for Ally as she is Demetri’s mate and she’s a new Mom. She’s also quite calm for a newborn, not to mention she is Marcus’ step-daughter” Jane answered “That said, Felix being the strongest vampire in the castle means he is the ideal opponent to test Ally’s newborn strength” Alec added smiling “I bet you €20 Ally beats Felix” Demetri says confidently to Santiago “I’ll take that bet” Santiago replied shaking his hand.

Felix ran at Ally and she dodged him with ease; spinning around she ran and jumped wrapping her legs around his neck and flipped him to the floor, rolling out of his way and getting back to her feet quickly. Felix reached out and grabbed her arm pulling her into him; her back against his chest, Ally leaned forward slightly flipping the giant vampire over and onto this back, Ally quickly pinned him to the floor “Got you” Her quick victory was brief as he flipped them over so she was now pinned beneath him “If you wanted to be on top BFV all you had to do was ask” She said low winking at him; chuckles filling the training room and before Felix could apprehend what was happening Ally bought her leg up and wrapped it around the front of his neck and using her newborn strength pushed up so he was now pinned beneath her again; his back to the floor, her sitting on his chest, leg against his neck still and his arms held in place by her small but strong hands “Ally wins” Josh calls out.

“God that was hot! The way she wrapped her leg around his neck…then pinned him down. I mean wow…Demetri is so lucky” One the transitory guards said to Alec smiling. Demetri felt proud of Ally in that Moment ‘With the exception of my children, Ally is my greatest creation’ he thought to himself smiling; knowing it’s his venom running through her entire body. He made his way over to Ally and Felix and offered her his hand helping her up “You were amazing cara mia. I love you” He said awe evident in his eyes “Thanks Dem. I love you too.”

The twins are a week old when they say their first word. Demetri picks up Catalina from her crib when he hears her soft cries, before she can wake her brother “Hey, hey, sshh, sshh. Daddy’s here” He says softly as he holds her to his chest making his way back to his bed where Ally was reading. “D-Daddy” He hears a soft little voice and looks down at his daughter smiling “What did you say little one?” He asks softly; the soft little voice replies “Daddy” His heart fills with pride hearing her first word “That’s right little one I’m your Daddy. I love you so much” He holds her closer listening as her breathing evens out as she falls back to sleep in his arms. “Did you hear that Ally? Her first word was Daddy” He says grinning “Yes, babe. I heard her” She replies quietly smiling at him.

Later that day Demetri is holding Galen in his arms whilst Catalina is cuddled up against Felix’s chest whilst Demetri reads aloud “Mommy” Galen calls out softly holding his arms out towards Ally as she comes back into the room; Ally stops surprised to hear him talk so soon “Mommy” He repeats curling and uncurling his fingers in her direction; Ally walks over and takes her son from Demetri holding him close “Aww such a clever little boy” She says softly and he coos at her. “You know Catalina said her first word this morning too” Demetri says to Felix smiling “Really?” He asks “Yes, hers was Daddy” Demetri replies “Such clever little ones” Felix says amazed at the little half human/half vampires babies in front of him “Oh before I forget I bought the twins a little something” Felix says handing a gift bag to Ally; she opens it to find a pink all in one suit with black fins on and a matching blue one “They’re going to look to cute in those” Felix says grinning “They are. Thank you Felix” Ally replies.

The twins learnt to crawl the following week “God I can’t get over how quickly they’re growing” Ally says looking at her Mom “I know me neither. They’re two weeks old and crawling. I hope you’re taking plenty of photos” Renee replied “I am Mom don’t worry. I have a baby book for each of them” Ally responds smiling “Carlisle did say that they will grow and develop quicker than human babies due to their vampire side” Demetri added “I know but it’s one thing to hear it and another to see” Ally replies.

A few days later Demetri was sitting on the floor playing with the twins “If we place these blocks here as a base, now you build upon them” He said softly helping the twins build their little creations using their building blocks “Look Daddy it’s a house” Catalina says smiling “That’s great little Cat” He replies smiling proudly “Look cara. Our kids are amazing, so clever for three weeks old” He calls out to Ally as Galen adds the final block to his castle. Demetri moves back towards the sofa where Ally is sitting to get a better look at his kids’ creations when he suddenly freezes at the sight in front of him; Catalina is pulling herself up using the coffee table taking a few steps whilst holding on to it before letting go and walking a few shaky steps towards him “Daddy” She calls and holds out her arms to him; smiling proudly he scoops her into his arms “Clever little Cat” He purrs fingers gently tickling her tummy eliciting little giggles from her. Not to be out done by his sister Galen pulls himself up using the armchair and takes a few shaky steps of his own to Ally “Mommy” Ally smiles with pride too as she picks him up “Such a clever little boy” She holds him close breathing in his scent “They’re growing so fast cara mia” Demetri says looking at her over his shoulder.

A few weeks later Demetri was getting ready for training duty when Catalina came into the bathroom “Daddy, can I come watch you work please?” “Afraid not little Cat, the training room isn’t a place for children” He replied softly looking down at her; she gave him the cutest little pout and looked at him with doe eyes through her lashes ‘she gets that look from her mother’ he thought to himself “Please Daddy, I promise to be good” She continued to use those blue eyes of hers against him “Pleeease” “Oh ok, but you do exactly as I say” He replied softy picking her up “Thank you Daddy” She smiled wrapping her little arms around his neck and kissing his cheek “You big softy” Ally teases him “I can’t help it. It’s those baby blues of hers Ally, it makes it hard to say no” He says smiling, knowing his little girl has him wrapped firmly around her little finger “And she knows it Demi” Ally replies and Catalina just smiles and nods.

“You know she learnt that ‘doe eye’ thing from you Mom right?” Galen says looking up at Ally “Is that so?” Ally asks “Mm-hm” Catalina hums in response “I think it’s funny Daddy can’t say no to either of you” Galen adds smiling up at Demetri “Have you tried saying no to these two?” Demetri asks him looking between his wife and daughter “Tried it with Mommy last week about bath time and lost that one as she pulled rank” Demetri laughed “Yea fair enough. Mommy does out rank you little one” “I tried getting round Mommy once like Cat does with you but apparently my ‘doe eye’ impression doesn’t work on her” Galen replied nodding in Ally’s direction “You’re obviously not doing it right Galen, come I’ll show you how to do it properly” Catalina says as Demetri puts her down. “Seriously, are our kids plotting against us already?” Demetri asks “No Demi. Catalina knows how to get around you. It would seem she is now teaching her brother to do the same with me” Ally replies “In my defence I love my girls so much I just want them to be happy and as a result I can’t say no to you or our daughter” He replies taking Ally into his arms and kissing her “If I’m honest I struggle to say no to Galen too” Ally admits, the twins hear this “Yes” and high five each other.

Ally decides to spend some time with Renee as Demetri takes the twins to the training room “Didn’t realise it was ‘Bring your kids to work’ day” Felix said laughing as Demetri entered the training room with the twins “Cat got Daddy to agree by doing that ‘doe eye’ thing Mom does” Galen said smirking ratting out his Dad to Felix “Thanks son” Demetri says messing up his son’s hair slightly. “Hey little Dem want to spar a bit?” Felix asks Galen using the affectionate nickname he’s given him “Na, not sure you can keep up old man” Galen replies smirking “So he doesn’t just look like Demetri, he speaks like him too. Huh” Santiago laughs “That’s my boy” Demetri answers proudly.

A few days later Demetri and Felix were watching TV with the little twins “I wonder where your Mommy is” Demetri says looking at Catalina and Galen “I know where she is” Catalina replies; getting up from the sofa and takes off running to find her Mom, Galen following her. “Hey, wait up you two” Demetri calls as he and Felix run after the twins. Catalina finds Ally sitting in the library with Aro and Marcus “Mommy” She calls out and runs towards her and Ally lifts her onto her lap just as Demetri and Felix enter the library; Galen ran straight to Marcus. “See Daddy, I said I knew where Mommy was” Catalina says grinning “You did and you found her so easily. How did you do that little Cat?” He asks crouching down in front of them. “I just thought of Mommy and I knew where she was”

This piqued Aro’s interest as he had been waiting to see if the twins were gifted like their parents. “It would seem like our little Catalina may be gifted” Aro says smiling “What does he mean I might be gifted Daddy?” Demetri gets up from the floor and sits beside Ally turning slightly to face her and Catalina “Well you see some vampires have gifts; Mommy is a shield; this means she can shield herself from psychic attacks and I am a tracker; I can pick up on the essence of someone’s mind and can follow it like a scent over any distance. To be able to do this I have to either have met that person physically or anyone who has met the person in the past. Although I cannot track Mommy due to her shield” Catalina nods “Wow! Daddy your gift sounds cool” She says “Mommy’s gift sounds cool too” Galen adds smiling; making his way over to Demetri who lifts his son onto his lap. Demetri and Ally smile hearing that the twins think their gifts are cool “Are you able to track me and Cat Daddy?” Galen asks curiously “Yes. I can track you both and it would seem that your sister may be able to track Mommy” Demetri answered.

The twins smile wide at their Dad “Can we a play game, get Mommy to hide and see if I can find her? Please Daddy” Catalina asks excitement shining in her blue eyes, Demetri looks at Aro and Marcus and they both nod “Yes, we can. Sit with me and Galen whilst Mommy goes and hides. Just don’t think about her for a few minutes” Ally kisses her daughter’s head and places her on the sofa beside Demetri. Ally gets up and kisses her son and mate before exiting the library to go hide. “I’ll count to 20 mi amore and then we’ll come find you” Twenty seconds later Demetri smiles at his daughter “Right let’s see if you can find Mommy” Catalina nodded and thought about Ally and how much she wanted to find her; she quickly climbed off the sofa and started for the door “Come on Daddy” She called out and Galen got off Demetri’s lap and took off after his sister. Demetri got up and followed them out into the hallway “They’re fast for little ones” Aro commented as he ran after the twins with Demetri and Felix.

Catalina ran into one of the guest rooms in the east wing of the castle “I found you Mommy” Demetri heard his daughter declare just before Ally giggles “Yes you did, my clever girl” She bent down and scooped her up in her arms “Well done little Cat, you did great” Demetri says smiling at his daughter; placing a kiss on her head before kissing Ally’s lips “Looks like you can track me after all my love, as long as you’re with our daughter” She smiles and winks at him “I’m ok with that cara mia.” “My sister is so cool” Galen says smiling “That she is” Felix replies lifting the boy into his arms.

“I’m curious though, can you find Daddy sweetheart?” She asks Catalina and she shrugged “I don’t know Mommy, I’ve never tried” “Demetri go hide so we can find out” Aro says curiosity clearly showing on his face and Demetri left the room to hide. About 10 seconds later Catalina thought about Demetri and how much she wanted to find him “I can’t sense him Mommy” She sounded sad “Try me little Cat” Felix said smiling, using the affectionate nickname Demetri had given her, before leaving the room too. “I can’t find Uncle Felix either. I know that we left Grandpa in the library but I cannot sense him Mommy. Sorry Aro” Catalina looks at Aro with a sad look on her face “Don’t worry about that my dear girl. Try and think about Renata, can you sense her?” She thought for a Moment before replying “Renata is in the North facing garden” Aro’s face lit up with a smile and pats the girl on the head gently “Well done little one. Let’s go find Demetri and we can tell him what we discovered” He says smiling.

Demetri stepped out of a room a few doors down having heard this conversation “Ah Demetri, my dear boy. It would seem your daughter does have a gift and it is similar to yours. Where you can track anyone in the world with the exception of people with strong psychic shields; it would appear that Catalina can track those with shields like Renata but also those with strong psychic shields like Ally” Demetri looks at his daughter in his mate’s arms with a proud smile on his face “That’s my girl” He says as Ally approaches him. “I wonder if she can pick up the tenors of someone’s mind like you or if she has her own way of tracking people Demi” Ally says curiously “I’m not sure Ally, but we have plenty of time to find out. Although it would seem our little Cat’s gift fills in the blanks of my gift in relation to tracking strong psychic shields” He wraps his arm around Ally placing a kiss to her temple “Are you ok with that?” She asks “Of course cara. It means when she is older she will be able to help track the people I can’t. We’ll be an unstoppable father and daughter team” Demetri says smiling proudly and placing his hand on her cheek. “That you will be. Her gift means she will be a part of the elite guard along with her parents” Aro says smiling wide.

Later that evening things were quiet in the twin’s room; too quiet for Demetri’s liking so he went to check on them only to find them cuddled up on Galen’s bed asleep “They look so cute like that” Ally whispers as she wraps her arms around him from behind “That they do” He whispers back, he feels her hand move lower rubbing him “Let’s take advantage of the fact they fell asleep early” She purrs in his ear taking his hand in hers walking backwards across the hall to their room.

Demetri kicks their door shut as Ally continues to lead him to their bed; Ally removes her dress then sits on the edge of the bed; Demetri removes his top and climbs onto the bed, a leg either side of her cupping her face in his hands capturing her lips in a passionate kiss. Ally wraps her arms around his neck, fingers playing with the hair at the base of his neck; laying back on the bed she pulls him down with her, he rolls his hips against her “Demi” She breaths; he does it again and feels her nails lightly scratch his back, he growls in her ear as he unzips his trousers pushing them down; taking his hard cock in one hand whilst the other moves her lace panties to the side he thrusts into her “You’re so tight baby” He purrs; a breathless moan leaves her lips as he builds to a fast pace, pounding into her roughly, when all of a sudden there is a loud scream from the floor below and the sound of a tray crashing to the floor “What the…?!” Demetri growls frustrated; another loud scream echoes through hallways, Demetri and Ally stop what they’re doing, get dressed and run down to the floor below.

“What’s going on Gi…” Demetri is cut off when he notices a large Snake in the hallway poised to attack Gianna and lots of little Snakes surrounding the big one “H-Help. D-Demetri. Pl-please” She stutters fear clear in the voice as she steps backwards “How did they get in here Dem?” Ally asks as he steps closer to the big Snake but before he can do anything or answer Ally the Snakes disappear; he hears the sound of giggles and the pitter patter of tiny feet from the other end of the hallway; Demetri can’t help feeling proud when he hears his daughter’s voice “Th-that w-was so cool Galen” Cat says giggling “Thanks Cat” Galen replied.

“Hey you two, what are you up to?” Renee asks as she passes them “Just on our way to see the twins Nana” Catalina replies smiling holding her brother’s hand “Ok, be good” “Always are” Galen replies and they take off running. The twins find Jane and Alec in the throne room with Marcus and Aro “May we come in please?” Galen asks “Of course little ones” Aro says smiling and the twins make their way over to Jane and Alec. “Do you know what Gianna was screaming about?” Aro asked the younger set of twins but before they could answer Demetri and Ally enter the throne room “Sorry masters. I need to have a word with my son, if you don’t mind” Demetri asks “Of course not. May I ask what the little one has done?” Marcus asks curious “It would appear that my son decided to scare Gianna” Demetri added “How did he manage that?” Aro asked “It appears he is able to create illusions…very realistic illusions I might add” Aro’s eyes widen as he looks over at the little boy “Guess the human’s more scared of Snakes than we thought” Galen replied with a wicked grin; his sister trying not to laugh “And they call us the Terror Twins” Alec mused; Jane was smiling proudly at the little twins.

“Not only do you have a mate who is a shield. You have a daughter who can track people with shields and a son who can create illusions and both at such a young age. Truly fascinating” Aro said looking Catalina and Galen with awe. “You Demetri have a very special family and I am very pleased and proud to be part of it” Marcus adds smiling at the tracker, and then glancing over at his grandchildren. “I must go and inform Caius of Galen’s gift” With that Aro takes off to find Caius. “You may just be Aro’s new favourite” Felix slaps Dem on the back laughing “That is all thanks to my gorgeous mate. God I love you Ally” He looks at her with a look of pure adoration on his face “I love you too Dem but I cannot take all the credit, this ‘special family’ is just as much to do with you as it is me” She replies wrapping an arm around him as she looks over to their children smiling; Demetri wraps his arm around her and can’t help smiling upon hearing his son tell Jane and Alec how he scared the castle secretary and seeing the ‘wicked’ glint in his eyes as he did so “It was so funny Jane, she screamed so loud Mommy and Daddy heard her from upstairs and she dropped her tray” Galen said laughing “But the best part was her begging Daddy to help her ‘H-Help. D-Demetri. Pl-please’” Catalina adds imitating Gianna before she doubles over in a fit of giggles; Jane and Alec were laughing now too “Sorry we missed it” Alec said “It’s ok. I’ll get her again” Galen says smiling “Oooh Spiders, use Spiders Galen. I hear she hates them” Catalina encouraged her brother. ‘My own little set of Terror Twins. Who would have thought?’ Demetri thought to himself shaking his head. “They’re going to be little terrors Dem” Ally says looking up at him “Yes they are” He replied proudly “But at least no one will mess them” “Little terrors yes, but imagine the fun we can have with them” Felix says with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

A few days later Galen and Catalina overhear Heidi and Afton talking about them, their Mom and Dad and their Nana Renee. “I can’t believe Renee is still human. I thought Marcus would have changed her by now, be a shame if something happened to her next time she left the castle on one of her trips” Heidi muses “I thought you were stupid for trying to attack Ally; all because you were jealous of her” Chelsea says, a smile creeping on her face as she remembered her friend being jealous of a human “I mean Demetri nearly took your head off then and there…but then you attacked Renee…just to try and hurt Ally only to find Renee was Marcus’ mate; his second chance at love. I just can’t believe that being locked in a tower and starved for two months has taught you nothing” Chelsea added before walking away.

Heidi turned to Afton “You can’t tell me you aren’t fed up of the special treatment that Demetri gets for being Marcus’ bodyguard?” She asks “But what can we do about it now that Demetri is a part of Marcus’ family thanks to Renee and Ally?” He asks. “Well whilst I was in the tower I saw Renee take the little twins out on Wednesdays for a few hours whilst Demetri and Felix train Ally. It’ll be easy to ‘set’ something up that’ll separate the family” She replies “What?! The twins are just kids and…I… you…you know Demetri will rip you apart if you harm his kids” Afton says sounding concerned “Don’t worry we’re not touching the little twins. Are you in?” Heidi asks “If they work out that you’re behind this they’ll surely have your head this time” Afton warns “If we work together and are careful we won’t be caught” She smiles, Afton nodding in agreement.

The following Wednesday Heidi and Afton’s plan was put into action. Renee took the twins to the park for an hour and then treated them to a cake each before making their way back to the castle. As they passed the alleyway near the church that was beside the castle a man dressed in grey ‘bumped’ into Renee before walking away quickly. Renee’s hand let go of Galen’s and went straight to her stomach and when she pulled her hand away, it was covered in blood “Nana” The twins called out seeing the blood soak through her coat; Galen and Catalina managed to get Renee into the alleyway sitting her down “Nana, are you ok?” Catalina asked “N-no I-I don’t th-think I am” Renee stuttered her reply “Galen what do we do? Nana’s really hurt” Tears started to roll down Catalina’s cheeks. “Sorry Nana, this may hurt a little” Galen said softly looking at Renee, tears threatening to fall down his cheeks too. He lifted Renee’s arm, pushed back her sleeve and bit down on her wrist; Renee cried out in pain, Galan licked the wound shut before moving quickly and biting Renee’s other wrist “Sorry Nana” He said again, tears now falling.

The twins sat beside their Nana and each held a hand in theirs “This is what Afton and Heidi were talking about” Catalina said looking at her brother. Just then Renee’s phone rang and Galen answered it seeing his Mom’s name flash on the screen “Mommy, it’s Nana. She’s hurt, I-I had to bite her” He rushed out “Calm down sweetie, where are you?” Ally asked “In-in the alleyway near the church” He replied through his tears. “DEMI” Ally called running down the hall to the training room “DEMI! Track the kids now!. Where are they exactly?” Demetri didn’t hesitate; didn’t ask why, he just focused on his children “The alleyway to the left of the castle. Why?” He replied “Mom’s hurt, Galen bit her and the twins are crying” Ally answered and ran out of the training room; Demetri and Felix were right behind her. Afton was smirking hearing that Galen had bitten Renee in public.

Demetri arrived first as he was the fastest “Renee? Renee? Open your eyes. Can you hear me?” Renee didn’t answer him “Daddy she’s bleeding, Galen bit her twice to try and save her” Catalina said through her tears; Demetri looked down at Renee’s stomach and could tell instantly she’d been stabbed and then looked at her arms noticing a small crescent shaped mark on each wrist. “Demi is-is she ok? Are the kids ok?” Ally asked voice shaky “Your Mom’s been stabbed, it’s bad cara. Galen bit her to try and save her, I hope it’s enough” He answered her “I-I tried Mommy” Galen said rushing into Ally’s arms “I know little one, I know” She held him close. “We have to move her now, please. Marcus needs to see her” Ally begged him her eyes filling with tears she can’t shed “Felix” Demetri called and Felix moved quickly scooping Catalina up into his arms and moving backwards giving Demetri plenty of room to pick up Renee “I’m so sorry Renee. Forgive me” He said picking her up off the floor; she winced in pain “It-it burns” “I know, I know” He responded low holding Renee closer.

Once back in the castle Felix took the twins to his room whilst Ally stayed with her Mom in Renee and Marcus’ shared room. Demetri went to the throne room and Marcus’ heart broke when Demetri told him what had happened to Renee, but couldn’t help feeling a little hopeful when he heard that Galen had bit her twice in an attempt to save her. “Go to her brother. She needs you” Aro told him, Marcus nodded and sped back to his room with Demetri “Oh Renee. I’m sorry wasn’t there and I know that this isn’t how we planned things but I’m happy our grandson was there to save you” He kissed her lips then rested is forehead against hers holding her in his arms “Did Galen do enough Marcus?” Ally asked “Yes, my dear and it is passed the point of me being able to replace Galen’s venom with my own” Marcus answered her. “I’m sorry master” Demetri offered placing his hand on Marcus’ shoulder “Don’t be. If it wasn’t for Galen, Renee would not be here now. I take comfort in knowing she was changed by a member my family” Marcus smiled at Demetri and Ally.

After what Afton and Heidi did Galen and Catalina decided they needed to be taught a lesson and Galen knew just how to do it; his sister Catalina encouraging him “Go on Galen they deserve it after what they did. I’ll be there with you” She holds his hand in hers and walks with him to the throne room waiting outside, hidden, for just the right Moment. Catalina nods and Galen created the illusion that the throne room was empty just as Afton and Heidi entered the room and the events that followed noone could have predicted…not even him.

“That was amazing Afton, did you see how quickly things went down, poor Renee forced into her immortal life sooner than planned” Heidi said mockingly “And to think the so called elite guards weren’t around to help her or to clean up the ‘mess’” She added laughing “Honestly it has annoyed me for a while that all four elite guards get special treatment from the kings so it’ll be good to see at least one of them bought down a peg or two” Afton said smirking “Definitely. After the events of this morning Demetri will no longer be in the King’s favour and there’s no way that he won’t be punished for Galen’s actions” Heidi said grinning “You know that I heard the little twins are to be given a place with the guard when they’re older or should I say were. There’s no way they’ll let them join now especially as little Galen doesn’t even have a gift” Afton says laughing “At least the Witch Twins are useful to the Kings. And another thing they mock me for my gift but at least I have one unlike Caius; he’s the most useless one of the Kings” Afton adds still laughing, Heidi nodding in agreement; laughing too.

Demetri, Felix and the older twins all gasp at this last comment waiting to see and hear Caius’ reaction “Why would they say that stuff with everyone in the room?” Alec asks low. Demetri quickly realises what is going on and feels incredibly proud of his son “Just watch” He says low in Alec’s ear. “HOW DARE YOU?!!” Caius roars loudly just as Galen drops the illusion causing Afton and Heidi to freeze like deer caught in the headlights. “Well done brother” Catalina praises; Marcus and Demetri both feel proud of the little boy as Afton turns to see the little twins standing inside the throne room smirking at him and Heidi “Why you little…” Afton is cut off by Demetri grabbing his arm and roaring at him “You lay a hand on my boy and I’ll RIP you to shreds, consequences be damned!” “M-Masters…I-I c-can ex-explain” Heidi stutters out as Caius and Aro move closer to her, Marcus moving to stand beside Demetri “JANE! You know what to do!” Caius shouts and Heidi drops to the floor in pain “I’m only going to ask you this once, were you responsible for what happened to Renee? Your future Queen?” Caius asks holding Heidi’s jaw tightly in his hand; Heidi didn’t answer “Jane” Caius said again and the pain Heidi felt doubled “Answer me!!” Caius roared “Y-Y-Yes. I-I hired…someone” Heidi managed to stutter out “FELIX!” Caius shouts and he is beside him instantly “Master” Caius looks toward Marcus who nods “I want her head” Caius growls and with that Felix beheads Heidi and her body falls limp on the floor.

“Demetri keep hold of Afton” Marcus says calmly “Of course master” Demetri replies grabbing hold of Afton’s other arm “On your knees now” Marcus says still sounding calm, before Afton can react Demetri kicks his legs out from under him and watches Marcus, smiling “Noone messes with my family and gets away with it” Marcus says as he removes Afton’s head “Burn them both! She’s had more than enough chances this past year and he well, he insulted my grandson” Marcus orders and watches as Caius sets both vampires alight.

“Come here Galen” Galen does as Marcus asks “I am very proud of you for saving Nana and I for one love your gift and I encourage you to use it” He says smiling at the boy as he lifts him into his arms and whispers in his grandson’s ear, knowing that Demetri could hear him “Especially for pranks.” Galen nods “I promise Grandpa”

Catalina walks over to Caius “Master Caius, I know Galen bit Nana outside…but…but…please don’t punish Daddy or my brother because he saved Nana…he…he was just protecting her in Daddy and Grandpa’s absence” Caius bent down and picked her up “I would never punish your Daddy or Galen for protecting their family” He pushed a lock of curly hair behind her ear “Thank you” She wrapped her arms around his neck before pulling away “S-Sorry…I know you don’t like hugs” “Don’t apologise little one” He reassures her before handing her to Demetri. “Look after them Demetri. I am looking forward to seeing their gifts develop and become members of the guard” Demetri nods at Caius “Thank you.”

Renee’s transformation took three days to complete and Marcus had never felt so anxious; Demetri, Ally and the little twins were there waiting with Marcus on day three “Will Nana wake up soon?” Catalina asked “Yes, little one she will” Marcus replied “If you listen carefully, you can tell her heartbeat has slowed down” He added “Nana’s heartbeat is barely there” Galen pointed out “You’re right Galen and that is how I know she wake up soon.” Ten minutes later Renee’s heartbeat stopped and her eyes opened; her now ruby eyes searching the room until they found Marcus’ “I love you mi amore. Thank you for staying with me” He said low as he took her in his arms “Always my love. I love you too” She replied hugging him back carefully. “May I hug my grandchildren?” She asked looking at Demetri “Yes, but it must be a quick hug as Marcus and I want to take you hunting as soon as possible” Demetri replied, Renee gently cuddled her grandchildren “Thank you Galen for saving me” She kissed his cheek “Anytime Nana” He replied kissing her cheek in return.

A few days later Galen and Catalina were in Felix’s room quietly plotting to scare Gianna “Remember she hates Spiders Galen” “I know Cat, we just have to pick the right ones and the perfect Moment” He replied “Don’t forget to tell Jane and Alec as they want to see you mess with her” Catalina reminded her brother “Go get them and I’ll meet you by reception” Galen responded, Felix raised an eyebrow and he watched Catalina leave his room but said nothing as he guessed she went to find the older twins.

Meanwhile Demetri and Ally were enjoying some alone time together as Felix offered to babysit. Ally climbed off the sofa and knelt on the floor pushing Demetri’s legs apart and reached for the waistband of his lounge pants; he lifted himself up slightly to help her remove them. Once his hard cock was free Ally wasted no time in taking him into her mouth “Ahh…baby” She licked him from base to tip letting her tongue swirl around the tip; moving her head up and down his hard dick building to a steady rhythm, he threads his fingers through her hair and grabbing a handful thrusts his hips forward his dick hitting the back of her throat “Mmm” He moaned breathlessly as she continued sucking and licking him; Ally’s own arousal building, she dragged her teeth over his length and she felt him twitch inside her mouth “Oh…baby” He purred as she swallowed everything he gave her. His hands went to her waist helping her up from the floor and laid her on the sofa swiftly removing her panties and entering her “Ahh” She breathed out feeling full and at one with her mate. He thrusted into her repeatedly being a little rough with her; she tugged his hair a little “H-harder…Demi…p-please” She begged; his thrusts then became quicker and rougher filling her deeper with every thrust “Demi” She screamed his name as she came; her walls clenched around him as he came for the second time “Ally” He held her in his arms kissing her neck but before they could go for another round they were interrupted “Hey you two get dressed you’re not going to want to miss this” Felix called through the door. “Now what?” Demetri growled.

Catalina found Jane and Alec on route to the throne room “Galen is about to prank Gianna if you want to watch” Catalina said smiling at Jane and Alec “Of course, sounds like fun” Alec smirked. Galen was hiding in a side corridor by reception waiting for Catalina, Jane and Alec to arrive; Gianna was at her desk and she flinched when she saw something move from the corner of her eye “I hope you aren’t starting without us Galen?” Catalina asks “Of course not” He replies. Both sets of twins watch as Gianna gets up from her desk and walks to the filing cabinet; upon opening the top drawer they hear her scream “Arghhh!” and notice lots of little spiders crawl out of the drawer and down the side of the cabinet. Both sets of twins started to laugh low as Gianna moved back towards her desk only to discover a huge hairy black spider sitting on her keyboard surrounding lots of spiders; varying in size and species “Arghhh!” She screamed again “What are you up to little ones?” Demetri asked as he, Ally and Felix crept up on the twins “Sc-scaring…G-Gianna” Catalina answered between giggles “H-Help…S-someone…A-anyone” They heard Gianna cry out as she was frantically looking around for someone to help her; when suddenly a gigantic hairy brown Spider dropped from the ceiling landing at her feet, the blood curdling scream that followed had all seven vampires laughing so hard that Gianna heard them but before she could say anything Galen and Catalina stepped out into the main corridor opposite reception laughing as the spiders disappeared entirely “Gotcha!” Galen says laughing “Little terrors” Gianna said not sounding amused.

“Is it wrong that I am proud of my little Terror Twins?” Demetri asked “Not at all Demetri, but you’ll need to come up with a new nickname for us” Jane said smiling “I’m proud of the little ones and we now know that the castle will never be boring as long as Galen’s around” Alec added smirking; before he and Jane made their way over to join the twins, Felix following.

Demetri and Ally stood watching as both sets of twins and Felix were discussing who to prank next and laughing about Gianna’s reaction “I thank the gods everyday for bringing you into my life Ally, I love you so much” Demetri says smiling pulling her into his side “I love you too” She smiles back at him ‘who would have thought that one little human could have changed my life so much and for the better. I truly am a very lucky man’ He thought to himself smiling; he was looking forward to spending eternity with his Ally and their little twins.

#demetri volturi #jane volturi #alec volturi #marcus volturi #aro volturi #caius volturi #felix volturi #volturi #twilight

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scottfuckingreed · 4 years

Text

On one condition - Montgomery De La Cruz

ANONYMOUS SAID: ‘MontyxOc where she and her family go on their annual vacation resort and begs her parents to let Monty come with! They agree on the condition they stay in separate rooms... At night when her parents are sleeping they sneak out their rooms and go have a little fun in/at the pool😉’

Warnings!: includes swearing and a bit of smut! And it’s kinda cute? Idk

Let me tell you, you see some disgusting and baffling shit when you’re friends with boys. Sure, girls can be gross too, but male jocks are a different breed. My eyes scan through every guy at the table.

Starting with Bryce Walker opposite me. One of, if not the most, popular guy in school. His girlfriend Chloe sit on his lap with their tongues down each other’s throat. I get it. We get it! They really like each other. But PDA overload!

Next to them is Zach Dempsey. He’s the sort of guy who’d eat food that’s just been in someone else’s mouth. I guess that’s not the worst thing to do. He’s definitely not very clever at all, but he’s cute. Kat once described him as the sweet kind of dumb. And that pretty much explains the boy to a tee.

Then we have Marcus Cole. There’s something I really don’t like, almost despise, about that guy. I usually aim on not looking at him, because I can’t fake nice to him. He’s extremely confident. Maybe the problem is that he’s borderline- no. He’s one cocky mother fucker. I’m sorry, I just really don’t like anything about him. Not one thing. And that concludes the opposite side of the table.

My side, the superior side I might add, starts with Scott Reed on my right. Talk about a sweet guy. I believe he’s possibly the purest person around this table. His morals are just: correct. Out of this table, he’s one of the other 3 people I’d actually ‘hang out’ with. I’d hang out with Chloe too.

Leaving our final guy. My guy to be precise. Monty. Montgomery De La Cruz. Don’t get me wrong, he does some gross things too. For some reason it’s automatically a little attractive when he does it. The way he eats, the way he smells, even the way he breathes is just... I’m in awe 24/7. I’m sure you’ve heard of him as the bully or the dick or just a complete asshole, but that’s not him. Sure he messes around with people. He’s actually a really nice guy.

That just leaves me; Brooklyn Fox. I live a very average life with average parents. My mum is a nurse and my dad is a lecturer. Everything is plain and simple. I get quite good grades and I have decent friends. My parents, however, don’t agree on all of them. Monty and I have been dating for about a year and a half. They really didn’t approve of him at first, but I’d say they’re warming. Very slowly. Maybe they just say they don’t like him to tease me. Probably not, but we’ll get there!

Once a week, pretty much, Bryce holds a house party. I don’t know how he got so lucky as to have parents that fly to a different state one after another! This weeks was going to be ‘the best yet’. Which - of course - he says every week. I’d be lying if I said they weren’t the best parties in the school. Actually, no one else really throws parties. No one needs to when everyone goes to Bryce’s.

“Who’s bringing drinks?” Chloe smiles all excited. I smile her way, drinking my apple juice carton. “It’s your party dude,” Zach taps Bryce on the shoulder roughly. “Come on, you guys can bring something! Stop being fucking leeches,” he laughs, putting his lips on Chloe’s cheek. They’re actually cute. “I can pick up some beers,” the huskiness of my boyfriend’s voice makes me smile stupidly to myself. His tone always sounds so unbothered. I don’t even know why he goes most of the time. Wrapping arms around his, I subtly shuffle myself closer. His warmth. He doesn’t turn my way, but his response is to cup the inside of my thigh with his manly hands. I’m not sure if it seems over protective or needy, but I cross my leg over his hand.

“Brooke!” Two small, crispy fries fly my way. My eyes gaze back over to Chloe. “What are you bringing?” Here we go. I’m gonna get shit. I look up to Monty, who’s eyes were already on me, and press my lips together into a smile. “I’m actually not coming,” I show my clenched teeth. All the boys’, and Chloe’s, faces drop. “What?” “But this is gonna be the best party of the year Brooke...” Bryce says slowly, making sure his words were heard. “I know,” I shake my head. “I’ve actually got my annual vacation with my parents,” I sigh. There’s not technically wrong with going away with my parents. It’s been a tradition since as long as I can remember. There’s a cabin a few hours away. It’s all cute and cosy. Perfect for any time of the year. We like to switch up the seasons. This year it just happens to be at the end of the school year. ‘A treat’ my mum would call it. I think they just like to get me away from these high school parties. “That sucks,” Scott nudges my arm with his, making me turn to him and smile. “What’s little Monty gonna do without his little girlfriend?!” Marcus fake worries. I shut my eyes for a second to quickly roll them into the back of my head. “Don’t worry Cruz-y, we’ll keep you company!” Bryce answers. Not exactly the most settling response.

Monty and I walk the shopping isles one by one. Although the party isn’t for a few days, it’s best to just get it over and done with. “Baby, can you help me get this down?” He’s a good few inches taller than me. “You can get it,” he smirks, crossing his arms and watching he stretch to get to the top shelf. I stick my bottom lip out. “You’re such a dick,” I whisper, walking to him until our bodies are pretty much touching. “Okay, but just because you’re cute,” his muscly arms wrap around just under my ass, lifting me up to get my favourite packet of crisps. They could’ve put them on a lower fucking shelf! Once I grab them, he pretty much drops me to the ground. “Hey, I liked it up there,” his eyebrows raise, and I immediately know what’s coming. “That’s what she said,” he whispers seductively into my ear. I can’t help but smile massively and shake my head at the childish boy. “Come on then, get on my back.”

My arms looped around his neck area, and my head leans lightly on my arms. When he finally get to the liquor isle, he puts me back down. Once again, his face just look unimpressed as he passes me a crate of beers to carry. “Do you have to go with your parents? I could stay with you at your house for the weekend,” blushing, I imagine how nice it would be. The house to ourselves? My parents not poking around checking that we’re not doing anything? Paradise. “I’d love that, but you know my parents won’t let me,” I grunt. I trust Monty with my entire being. I know he’d never cheat on me or anything like that. Who I don’t trust is Bryce and pretty much anyone else. I trust Scott actually. He’s an angel. “You get to party with your buddies and get shitfaced,” I try and sound enthusiastic. I failed. The way he smiles at me settles me every time. It’s always with bright eyes and bright teeth. And then it hits me. The best idea I could have.

“Honey, no,” my mum shakes her head at my suggestion. We sit around the dinner table, me one side and my parents the other. I’m aware they seem strict. They’re not. It’s just... they don’t trust Monty. “You’re not bringing your boyfriend on the family trip, Brooklyn. It’s as simple as that,” my dad says ‘firmly’. “He’s called Monty, and maybe you’d like him if you actually got to know him?” My statement comes out quite sassily. “We know him,” The thing is they’ve met Monty a few times. They’ve never had full conversations, not one that’s lasted more than a minute long. All they know is what they’ve heard. And majoritively not from me. I throw my head back in slight defeat. “Then I’m not going,” stroppy? Definitely. But if there’s anything I know about my parents it’s that they’d do anything to keep me going on this trip. “Don’t be silly Brooke,” my dad laughs with a hint of disbelief. “We’ve been together for over a year! Can’t you just give him a chance?” My fingers interlock with each other, smiling as wide as I can. As the silence goes on for more than 10 seconds, I can see them actually thinking about it. Their heads turn to each other, and back to me, then back to look in each other’s eyes. “Fine, but on one condition...”

“We just have to sleep separately!” I whisper-squeal excitedly on the phone. The silence makes me imagine his growing grin. I slowly lick my lips in anticipation. “Not even in the same room?” He asks slowly. “No, but, well... pleeeeeeaaaaase?” I beg through the phone. The fact that they’ve even compromised is a first. “Do you understand how much a begged for this shit?” I shuffle around in my bed. My hearts racing with excitement. Just imagine it. My parents actually getting alone with him?! We could play board games and sit around a fire together. The thought of them accepting him as my boyfriend just sounds too good to be true. “But Bryce’s party,” he fake sighs. My mouth drops in immediate offence. “Well, fuck you,” “You won’t be able to because we’ll be in separate rooms,” my cheeks grow in heat at the speed of his response. “Fine, if you accompany me and my family on our lovely vacation I will...” I try and think on the spot. As if my room would have any ideas, I look around. About 10 seconds go by of me humming. “Come on Brooklyn! Bryce’s party’s looking so good right now,” come on Brooklyn! “I will...” I pause again. No time. “Give you a blowjob.” I let out in a whisper. It’s only an ever so slight pause until, “deal!”

I hear the horn of Monty’s jeep outside. “He can come in, you know,” my mum smiles. Frowning slightly with a smile, I pick up my bag. Maybe I should’ve started forcing Monty on them from the beginning, but I’m sure it would’ve just made things worse. Am I ready for it? This weekend will confirm yes or no I guess. “You can hang with Monty all weekend,” my words come out slow and nervous. Fuck, what have I done?

“Hey baby,” he immediately leans in for a kiss. How would my parents not like him? He’s sweet. He’s quite the gentleman too. “Is everything okay?” He starts the engine and drives ahead. “I’m just thinking about this weekend, I’m a little nervous,” I shuffle in my seat, bringing my leg up and hugging my knee close. “You’re nervous? I’m not,” He’s quite good at covering his facial expressions sometimes. The way he slightly buffs out his chest just screams confidence. Or arrogance maybe... “I can’t tell if you’re joking...” Monty pauses at a stop sign, and turns to me for a second. “Brooklyn, of course I’m joking. I’m fucking shitting myself,” my bottom lip flies out. “That’s so cute,” I mutter. “Okay, you can stop that,” he always says he hates it, but I see the small turn of his lips when I say stuff like that. “I’ll take care of you Montgomery!” My smile gleams at him. If he’s nervous, I need to not be nervous. It’ll be fine? Wait, that’s wrong. It’ll be fine!

English. None of my ‘close friends’ are in my class, so I usually sit near Justin Foley. I always thought talking to him would be awkward, since he’s Bryce’s ex-best friend and all, but it’s actually not. He takes a seat next to me, and I smile massively at him. “You’re looking extremely happy today, it’s only English?” He chuckles slowly. Next to him sits Clay. I don’t think Clay likes me. He doesn’t speak much to be honest. “I’m average,” shrugging, I watch as Justin tilts his head. Clay gives a look of ‘I don’t care’. “I’m just going away with my parents this weekend. Monty’s coming.” the way Justin contained his eye roll is impressive, and rather funny. Clay doesn’t hide a thing. “You’re actually the only person I’ve seen mellow Monty down. You might actually be good for him,” Justin’s words make Clay scoff. “Yeah right...” he mutters. “You’re so positive Clay, I love it.”

At lunch we sit in the exact same ordering and everything. I guess it’s always just been this way. It feels weird otherwise. Monty’s hand sit on my knee, his thumb rubbing lines from left to right. In the corner of my eye, I see him slowly reach for one of my chips. My smile widens as he gets closer. “You can have one you know, you don’t have to be slick,” I giggle. And he takes about 5. “Hey!” I tap the top of his hand before he shoves them all into his mouth. “I’ll make it up to you,” with his mouth full, he winks. I’m sure I saw food fly out. I lift my right hand over his mouth, covering the awful sight. “Gross,” I whisper. I do question Monty’s flirting sometimes. Often, actually. Looking at him, I kind of get lost in his eyes. Even when he’s a disgusting mess like this. “As long as you don’t do that this weekend, we should be fine.” I take Monty’s hand into mine, intertwining fingers. Am I more nervous than he is? “Woah,” and pause “Woahwoahwoahwoahwoahwoah!” I turn my head towards Bryce who was waving his arm around as he spoke. “You’re coming to the party, right?” Sometimes, just sometimes, I feel like Bryce has some sort of hold on Monty. They’re friends, that’s cool. They’re pretty much best friends I know. But I know Monty would do anything for Bryce. After all, they’re ‘brothers’. “Shit no, sorry man.” Is all Monty says.

I meet up with Monty after our final lessons. “Hey, how’d it go with Bryce?” I swoop my hand into his, cupping it with my other. “He’s a bit pissed actually...” he says slowly, which low key breaks me. I sigh to myself, not really knowing what to say. That’s not my intention. “He’ll get over it,” he shrugs.

Collecting my thoughts, there’s a little silence until we get to his car. Seatbelts; clipped in. Ready to go. “Did he say what he was specifically mad about or..?” Now I’m gonna be ‘that girl’ who broke up a friendship. Could you imagine? News like that travels fast. Faster than fast. That shit would zoom through everything. “He basically said that he expected me there or some shit. I stopped listening to be honest,” and he drives out of the parking space. I refuse to believe this. This sounds way too good to be true. “Well... you can stay, obviously, for the party if you want.” A very brief smile appears on his face. It takes him a second to answer. You could say it was him concentrating on his driving, but this guy never fucking concentrates on his driving. “So you wouldn’t be mad if I stayed..?” He asks slowly. I can see the disbelief in his face. “No.” I’d be furious. I swear if this boy actually accepts this shit. “I guess I’ll stay for the party then,” he shrugs. “Could you text Bryce for me?” Without looking at it, he takes his phone out of a cup holder and hands it to me... straight faced. I pause for a second. “Are you serious?” I let out in an angry whisper. This fucking- “Yes- no...” I see him question which is the answer he meant. “Let’s see... would I rather get wasted at a party where I don’t wanna be? Or should I go away with my beautiful girlfriend and her family?” My red furied face instantly turns to an enormous blush. “I think I’m gonna choose to be with my girl?” Fuck. Maybe he’s not so hypnotised by Bryce. I’m over the fucking moon, but I still hit the guy on the side of his arm. “As cute as that is, you’re a dick,” I threaten him. “But an incredibly sexy dick?” Yes. Yes indeed. “Whatever.” His hand reaches over and rests on my knee. My insides twist and turn in such a way that I feel like the first time I saw him. Gross, I know. “Just so you know, you can call me your girl literally whenever you want.”

Trip Day!

The clock reads 09:30. My brain doesn’t even want to function. Not until I realise what today is. Fuck. That explains why I’ve already received 3 texts and a missed call from Monty. “Montgomery,” I answer this call pretty much as soon as it rings, and closed my eyes. I’m so fucking tired. “Good morning. What’s the plan for today?” Straight to the point? Okay boy. “Well I’m sleeping right now, but I should probably pack my bag I guess,” Have I left it a little late to pack? Absolutely. In my defence it’s only a 3 day trip, and I’m a little nervous and trying not to worry about it. “Ah so you need help?” Before I can answer, I hear a tap on my window. My eyes immediately open. I’m awake now. “Good morning Montgomery,” I smile massively down at the boy under my window. On the ground beside him was his Liberty Tigers gym bag which I assume has all his shit in it for the weekend. I sure hope he’s washed it; that bag stinks of sweat and rich body odour. “Are you ready?” I laugh. I’m quite literally not ready. Like at all. “I guess so, can I come up?” Usually he wouldn’t ask, but I’m glad he did today. “I think you should knock on the front door today.” It’s probably safer. Could you imagine if my dad just caught him up in my room. He’d think he stayed the night and shit. It ain’t worth the hassle. Front door it is.

I try and play it cool, but when the door knocks I rush down the stairs. “Dad, I got it,” I watch as my dad makes his way to the door. “It’s okay, sweetie,” and he opens it to be greeted by my massively smiling boyfriend. This is it. This is where it starts.

“Morning sir,” comes out of Monty’s mouth. I raise my eyebrows, impressed. If he wants to get on my dad’s good side, this is a nice start. A firm handshake takes place also. I think this could go well. As long as we stick by the rules and in those stupid guidelines, it’ll all be smooth. “Montgomery,” Monty’s eyes quickly swipe to me, because his body follows my dad to the dining table. This is gonna be the talk.

This can go one of two ways. It can either be straight forward, my dad doesn’t mention anything sexual and just beats around the bush to make his point. Or he can say every word I don’t want to hear from my dad, and it’ll be an awkward ‘bonding’ experience. I’ve taken my bet. “Honey!” My dad calls my mum. She appears in a millisecond. The smile on Monty’s face has faded slightly. I could tell that he didn’t want to seem nervous. It’s cute. “Hey Monty, how are you?” My mum smiles warmly. “I’m excited, how are you guys?” His nerves were radiating off of him. My hand sat just above his knee. I’d be dreading this if I was him. “We’re good. I’m sure Brooke has mentioned the guidelines, but we just wanted to make sure you heard them from us. Just to make sure you hear them all of course,” the slight patronising tone of my fathers voice showed care, but I do wish he’d show Monty at least a smile. Monty and I nod in unison. Let’s get this over and done with.

At first I thought we were safe. Like maybe we had dodged that bullet. It was all ‘this is a very meaningful trip’ and ‘take care of the cabin’. He even cracked a joke or two. It was actually when my mum stepped in. That’s when it went south. “Now, for the main part. No sex,” I wince at the word. I’m not a prude, but I don’t need to hear it from my mum. I could tell my dad didn’t really want to be here for the conversation either. Monty kind of just nodded along and stayed neutral faced. Smart move man... smart move. “As your father said, you will be staying in separate rooms anyway. I know what it’s like to be a teenager. Hormones flowing around and all-“ “Mum,” my attempt to butt in failed massively. “I’m just saying I get it, but I don’t want no hanky-panky,” shit. I was waiting for that phrase. My eyes lock with my dad’s. “I think they’ve heard enough about that, I sure have!” And Monty laughs. That is such a relief. I’m expecting him to run out the door at any moment now. “Are all packed?” Monty clears his throat before answering. “I am sir, but Brooklyn hasn’t so I’m here to help,” I nudge him in his side. “Of course,” my mum shakes her head at me with a grin. “Well we wanna get going by 3, so you better move your ass young lady,” why are parents so embarrassing? “On that note, I guess we should pack my bag,” I cannot stress how fast I got up and moved.

“Shit,” I breathe as I pull Monty into my room and close the door. I stare at him, worried, with my hands on my hips. “I think that went quite well...” The change in tone made his statement sound more like a question. “You did?” I ask slowly, a smile growing on my face. “I think it could’ve gone worse?” I take two small steps towards him. My arms snake their way around behind his neck, pulling my body close to his. “It’s gonna be a long weekend,” I mutter. “Tell me about it,” he smirks back against my lips. A few bangs on the way up the stairs startles us both. The thought of my mum or dad walking in just scares me. That’s a sight neither of us will ever want to see. I’m surprised they haven’t told me to open my door yet.

“Yes!” Monty lays across my bed. Packing is a lot more work than it should be. At least I have Monty to help me choose what to take. He’s quite the fashionista you know. “Definitely take that one,” he nods again. Every time I turn to him with another item, I just see how ‘relaxed’ he is. Laid down with his head leant on his hand. “I can’t tell if you’re really good at hiding it, or you’re, like, not nervous at all?” I take a seat on the end of my bed. “I think it’s gonna be fine,” the way he moves his everybrows and screws up his face slightly shows me he’s lying. I get it. “So you’re fine?” I ask, cupping lightly on the right side of his face, just on his cheek above that sharp jawline. “If you’re calm, I’m calm,” he takes a moment to kiss the palm of my hand. This far into the relationship and he still gives me butterflies? Gross, but I can’t describe how amazing it feels. Fuck. I’m not calm. In about 3 hours we’re going to be in a bubble. A bubble with Monty and my family. I’d hoped this day would come, but I don’t think I actually thought it would happen? I collapse myself on my back. In the corner of my eye I see him move to giving his head over mine. “I’m calm, Brooklyn. What’s the worst that can happen?” I reach my arm up to his face again. “You’re right...” I pull his lips onto mine. A gentle finger brushes a piece of hair behind my ear. I pull back slightly. “We just gotta follow the rules.” And place my lips back on his. This is definitely going to be ‘easier said than done’.

The rule was ‘no alone time’ basically. Luckily that didn’t include the drive up. My parents took their car, whilst we drive in Monty’s stunning jeep. I want everyone to get along and - I guess - vibe with each other, but could you imagine the drive up. I feel like it would’ve just been silent. We have to build up to that. I can visualise it very clearly. My dad would peak through the rear view mirror. My mum would probably ask questions that would make every answer follow with silence. No thank you.

I snap my head to the radio when my favourite song starts playing. “Fuck, I love this song!” I smile and reach for the volume. Closing my eyes, I take the words and the best in. I could honestly listen to this song on loop and not get bored! Then I hear soft singing next to me. My eyes open and turn to him. “You do not know the words!” I squeal. “You play it all the time, so I downloaded it,” He stenches his teeth as if he hates to admit it. “I knew you liked the music I listen to!” My ego just grew by at least x10. “Some of its okay,” I drop my draw at the admittance. “I fucking-” “I know, Brooklyn!” He chuckles and continues tapping his fingers on the steering wheel along to the beat. And just like that, he becomes even more attractive. “Stop drooling,” I press my top and bottom lip together at his comment. “Shut up,” I whisper. I just realised I’m the biggest Montgomery simp. “It’s hot though, you get big brownie points for this you know,” I bite my lip slightly, just so he notices. Maybe I shouldn’t since we’re pretty much on a touching each other ban, but come on. A sexually frustrated Monty? I’ll have him wrapped around my finger. “Ooh what do my points add up for?” Monty takes a quick glance at the tall trees coming up. “I’d tell you, but you have to wait until after the trip,” I wink. “Fuck Brooklyn. I know what you’re doing.” I giggle under my breath. Here we go. “We’re almost there, about 5-10 minutes maybe?” Let’s get this started!

The crackle of gravel brings back years of memories at this place. A stunning dark wood cabin in the middle of nowhere. It sounds like a horror film and it honestly could be. Have you seen hush? It’s kinda like that. But no one’s died here. Not yet anyway. “How was the drive?” My dad asks, directly looking Monty... in the eyes. I raise my eyebrows. “It was alright, I don’t think I’ve been in a forest area like this!” Monty’s upbringing was so different to mine. I take shit like this for granted. “Beautiful isn’t it?” My mum comes over and hugs my dad at his side. “It’s got a lot of history to it-” “I don’t think Monty wants to hear about that dad,” I roll my eyes, but Monty butts in. “I don’t mind, sir. I’d love to hear it,” and I watch as Monty moves away from me. As does my dad. This is real? My dad and my boyfriend going to walk around together. I let out a deep breath. “He’s quite sweet,” my mum shrugs, grabbing her suitcase and taking it inside. Wait, yes! Not even 5 minutes in and my mum already thinks he’s sweet. I’m so fucking winning at this trip already.

Pacing the floor, FOR TWENTY MINUTES, until my dad brought Monty back to my sight. My safe, safe view. As they walk through the back door, they laugh and smile towards me. “You were gone quite some time,” my mum smiles massively, bringing my dad in for a small hug. The boy comes back to my side. I can’t help but smile at his smile. That can’t have gone that bad? “Yeah it felt like forever,” I mutter just loud enough. My eyes lock between Monty’s and my dad’s, who were both just lit up. I check my phone for the time. 18:02PM. “I think we’ll just order food tonight, why don’t you go sort out your things?” My mum smiles. Maybe they’re trying to please Monty, because this isn’t us.

“So...” I pull Monty into my room and sit on my bed. Crossing my legs, I’m ready. Hit me with it! “He gave me the tour, told me when the house was built and then I got the talk.” My head falls into my hands. “He lies about when the house was built by the way,” I warn him. The smile remains on his face. “I could tell, he mentioned about 4 different years.” “So the talk. How bad?” I swift back in topic. “It was good. Your dad’s really nice,” I stand back up as soon as those words exit his mouth. “Really?” My smile grows more and more, and grows bigger when his smile grows. “He basically just warned me about hurting you because of how much you like me,” he pokes my shoulder teasingly. “We shook hands and everything,” he does ‘jazz hands’ to mock me, but that genuinely just sends me over the moon. I clench my teeth and do a silent squeal. “You’re fucking crazy,” he whispers close to my face. Wrapping my around around him, I pull him in for a quick kiss. A quick kiss that lasted at least 30 seconds. No tongue. We can’t get all heated up.

As a tradition, we sit around the dining table. Even when it’s takeaway. “We bought a little of every sort of thing, we didn’t know what you guy’s would want,” my heart melts slightly at my mum’s words. That’s so cute. My mum knows exactly what I like, so that’s not aimed at me. I flash my appreciative eyes towards her, and she winks in response. His eyes scan through the table. There was bits of every meat, a few different potatoes, a little bit of it all. “Jesus this must’ve costed you a bit, I can give you some money towards this if you’d like,” my head turns to Monty. Why am I ready to cry? Both of my parents look confused. “That’s very lovely Monty, but it’s fine. You’re our guest,” my dad nods along with my mother. This feels accepting. Why was I even scared about this?

“So how’s baseball going Monty?” My dad asks. If there’s one thing they can bond about, it’s sports. There’s not a sport Monty hasn’t done, and not one that my dad doesn’t enjoy. Well... my dad doesn’t like cricket. “It’s going good,” Monty pauses to swallow his food fully. “I think we have a really good chance at bringing home state this year,” not really my conversation. I love watching Monty doing sports because, duh. Other than that, no. Monty looks my way so I playfully roll my eyes. “I’m surprised she pays attention to the sports, you can tell she really likes you,” and that makes me want to stab myself in the eye with a fork. “Dad!” I smile massively, embarrassed. Or maybe overjoyed at everything? Both. “I underestimated you Monty, I’m glad you’re here with us,” did I hear that right? Did my dad just say that? Already? We’re only 2 hours into the actual trip?! I notice Monty blushing slightly, which makes me blush and butterflies flutter in my stomach. “We’re excited to watch your next game,” my mum breaks the cute silence. “As long as you don’t fuck this up over here,” my dad winks and nods towards me. “Sir, you should probably know that I’m deeply in love with your daughter.” My dad’s eyebrows raise with a smile. My mum rushes a hand to her heart. And I just fell in love with him even more. I can’t help but blush massively and smile to myself as I try and swallow my food. “I’m that case, call me Daniel.”

Dinner was a dream. Like an actual fantasy. I cannot believe something like that happened. To me. In front of my eyes! This high that I’m on right now is unexplainable. I follow Monty into his room about 5 minutes after he went in. “That was so fucking perfect,” I close the door behind my and force my lips onto his. How am I meant to stay away? He guides me forwards, slipping his tongue slightly into my mouth before sitting down. I don’t hesitate to straddle his lap. My hands sit nicely on either side of his face, and his hands move down to my ass. He pulls me as close to him as he can, but the friction isn’t enough. “Hey guys!” My mum shouts from wherever she is. I forcefully pull my lips away from his. “Let’s go into the hot tub!” She adds. I breathe slow to control my breathing, and remove myself off of him. “Shit, I have a boner,” he grunts, throwing his head back in defeat. “Well... good luck with that,” like a school girl, I giggle. I best exit his room before I get caught here.

I get into my black little bikini and get ready to chill for like an hour. When I get out there, Monty’s already there. “There she is!” My mum smiles as I slide open the glass door. The tub is lit up perfectly with Monty sat inside. My mum sits on the deck in chairs that are comfier than they look. The night sky is clear with hundreds of stars spread across the sky. “Would you like a drink sweetie?” My mum shows the array of beer bottles behind her on the round wooden table. “I don’t know if you’re joking or not,” she only even lets me drink on ‘special occasions’. “Sure why not! You’re not gonna get drunk on one beer,” I slowly take two from her hands. Although the confused, I’m not arguing it.

“There you go Montgomery,” I wink at him before sitting at a just bareable distance away. Not too close, but nowhere near far. “Thank you Brooklyn,” we clink our drinks together before taking a sip. Did it have to be such a romantic setting. “How’s the day been for you then Monty?” My dad comes over and cheers’ his drink against ours. “I was very nervous, but it’s been amazing,” I look down. “I was going to be really hard on you, but you’re actually a nice guy. I apologise for assuming anything different,” this is it. He’s in. Monty has been accepted. I’m struggling to contain my squeal right now. But I should, right? “The jock persona definitely doesn’t help, but that means a lot. Thank you, Daniel...” Monty speaks my dad’s name very slowly. I clench teeth together. “If there something you want to say Brooklyn?” A laugh, which I’m sure is judgemental, escapes my mum’s mouth. “I’m just trying not to scream with excitement,” I shrug honestly. Monty subtly pokes the outside of my leg under the water.

I don’t know why, but the conversation just flowed between everybody. I must be dreaming. I’ve been sat with my eyes closed for a while. There’s a nice cool breeze that blows across every now and then. “Right, I think it’s time for us to get to bed,” my mum stands up. I immediately check the time on my phone. It’s 22:34?! That time flew. “Don’t stay up too late. We’ve got some activities planned for tomorrow! Be up about 7,” my mum kisses the top of my head. “Goodnight guys!” My dad smiles, shaking Monty’s hand. “Night!” We smile back in sync.

“Activities, huh?” Monty’s voice comes out in a flirt. “They like to do things like rock climbing and sailing,” I shrug. A look of slight worry comes across his face. “I’m not sure about that,” he laughs nervously. “Well, I guess I’ll just get to call you a pussy all day then,” I slide myself closer to the boy. “Don’t even try it,” he whispers as he leans in closer. Our lips touch and the kiss immediately gets heated. In one swift movement, I’m straddling him. And then it sinks in. My parents have left us alone. Together. I guess they trust me not to have sex in the hot tub? He does a half squeeze to my butt cheeks. And then he breaks the kiss. “We probably shouldn’t-” I stop him immediately. “You’re right. We definitely shouldn’t have sex in the hot tub,” I whisper. Hopping off his lap and out of the hot tub with speed, I attempt to dry myself off as much as I can. I almost run to my room. Is this a dangerous game? Yes. But I wanna fucking play it!

He enters milliseconds after me. My hand grabs his, pulling him towards my bed. “Are you sure?” I nod. “We’ll be quiet,” his smile is small but mischievous. “That’s a relief, I’ve got blue balls enough today.” I whisper out a giggle, and pull him on top of me. The bed makes a loud noise and we freeze. “Shit,” I laugh. He covers my mouth with a gleaming smile. “This is risky,” he nudges his nose against mine. “I know,” and I push my lips on his. With being in swimming things we were pretty much in our underwear. Smooth hands rub against the side of my body, all the way down to my ass. He actually squeezes it this time. The moan that wanted to escape was contained with a kiss. “There’s condoms in the top drawer,” and he frowns. “What? I kind of thought this would happen,” I admit and shrug. What can I say? I saw it coming.

Safety; done. Balancing out between risking this and actually getting caught by my parents was too easy of a decision. All I had on was my bra at this point, the rest was bare skin. So we shuffle under the covers, and Monty lines himself up. I haven’t really considered how hard it might be to keep quiet. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. Before pushing himself inside of me, he presses his lips on mine. My legs lift and wrap around his back, pulling him closer and closer until he’s all the way in. A heavy breath exits both of our mouths as we lock eyes and smile.

As he pulls out, I let out a little squeak. “Shhhhh,” he mutters against my lips. “I love you,” he whispers. And back in. His hands squeeze my waist as he finds a steady pace. This is possibly the closest I’ve ever felt to Monty. Yes, we’ve had sex many times. But I think my parents love him? Which has made me love him even more somehow. My leg raises higher, my foot scraping across his back as do my fingers. No nails. Not today. Thank god this bed doesn’t make a lot of noise.

Monty slows down the pace, which he knows drives me crazy in the best way. I spread my fingers up through his hair. His tongue continues to glide gracefully across mine. Those lips haven’t moved off of mine, which is probably for the best. They’re possibly the only things not exposing us right now. “Fuck,” I moan in a whisper. My legs begin to pretzel behind his back. That familiar knot starts to appear. I’m not sure I want this moment to end. Once again, Monty’s hand begins to roam my body. They move from my waist, to my ass. He pauses there for a second and massages it with one hand. Waves of added pleasure shoot though my limbs. It’s like some sort of drug. As his fingers move again, I’m being brought closer and closer to the edge. They hook under the knee of my right leg, lifting it slightly high. “Monty,” I laugh in a moaned whisper. He knows what he’s doing. “Just let go baby,” he whispers, kissing my nose before moving back to my lips. Didn’t have to tell me twice. I immediate explode around him. The moans against his lift sent angry vibrations. Once my high is rode out, I try breathing calmly through Monty’s climax too. Try is the important word there. My heart remains beating fast and loudly. I’m surprised it didn’t wake my mum and dad up.

My body just collapses and curls up to Monty’s. Our fingers just intertwine, even though they’re sweaty. Gross. “Thank you for today,” I whisper, bringing his hand up to my lips and place a simple kiss against it. Words actually can’t describe what today meant to me. It’s soppy as fuck. “I think it was a success,” he chuckles into my ear. “You probably shouldn’t sleep in here,” I wish he could. I just wanna spoon him. Well, I’m actually very happily the little spoon. “I know,” I feel him move slightly. “You could probably stay a little longer?” I stick out my bottom lip like a child. “You know we’d fall asleep,” he leans over and kisses my forehead. As if that was enough for me, he pulls away. A quick reflexed arm pull his head back down, instead onto my lips. “Sweet dreams Brooklyn.”

#13 reasons why #13rw #montgomery de la cruz #13 reasons why montgomery #smut #monty smut #monty x reader #Montgomery de la Cruz x reader

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assembledherethevolunteers · 4 years

Text

College Friends

A/N: Hi everybody! And SURPRISE @rhapsodyrecs ! I’m your secret author for @yourlocalmusicalprostitute Possessed By Love Event! I hope you (and everybody else) enjoys it!

Pairing: Joe Mazzello x fem!reader

Warnings: Implied smut (nothing explicit, but just in case), references to drinking, cursing? (I honestly don’t remember if I put any in there or not,but better safe than sorry), bed-sharing

You threw a bag of chips into the cart and then looked around for more snacks.

“I think we’re good on snacks,” Kodi chuckled.

“Not if Marcus is coming,” you replied, another bag of chips making its way into the cart.

“Alright, good point, but we can make a trip to the store once we get there.”

You and a group of friends from college were going on an extended weekend trip to the beach, staying at an AirBnB. You were leaving in the morning and you were so excited. You needed time away from work.

“Alright, when we get back to my place, we’ll pack it the van,” Kodi told you after you got everything in your car from the store. You’d rented a van so you could all fit in one car.

“Sounds good to me. What time are we going to leave in the morning?”

“I think around 8, but I told Sahara 9 so that she might actually be on time.”

You laughed.

The two of you talked about how much fun the five you would be having at the beach.

“I’m ready to just goooo,” Kodi whined as you puled into the parking lot of her building. “Work has been so shitty lately.”

“I know,” you told her as you parked next to the van. “You deserved that promotion.”

“Tell me about it. Whatever. I just want to go to the beach and get drunk.”

“Two things I can help with, don’t you worry.”

“And maybe get laid.”

“Well, let’s see how drunk we get.”

You and Kodi laughed as you got out of the car. The two of you transferred your groceries from your car to the van when somebody came up and grabbed your hips.

You jumped and spun around with a scream, ready to attack the person.

“Hey! Hey, calm down!” The voice was laughing as you swung your arms, making minimal contact.

You met eyes with your ‘attacker’ and gasped for a moment at that familiar hazel. “Joe?”

He held his arms out for a hug, but you didn’t go into them. Kodi did though, hugging him tight.

“Joe! What are you doing back in town?!”

“I just wrapped on a movie and thought I’d come see you guys!” Joe pulled away from Kodi and looked at you with a big grin.

“So Mister Hollywood is gracing us with his presence once again, huh?” You replied with an eye roll.

“Ah, Y/N, great to see you, too.”

Joe Mazzello. The unaccounted for sixth member of your college friend group.

The six of you had met and made a study group for your Psych 101 class freshmen year. After that, you were inseparable. The six of you had stayed friends since you all had left school, which was actually a surprise to all of you, but somehow it had worked.

“How long are you in town?” Kodi asked.

“Just this week, so I wanted to see if you guys were doing anything this weekend and…”

“Aw shucks, Joey, we’re actually going to be out of town this weekend,” you clicked your tongue. Joe’s face fell and Kodi elbowed you in the side.

“Oh, well, that’s okay, maybe I can hang out with Marcus and…” Joe stopped talking at the look on Kodi’s face.

“We’re actually going with them too, we sort of threw this together last minute long weekend to the beach,” Kodi gave Joe a half smile. “We didn’t know you’d be home otherwise we would’ve asked you!” Kodi started spewing out excuses but Joe held his hand up.

“Kodi, it’s alright I can…”

“Well,” Kodi looked at you and then back to Joe. “Give us one sec,” she grabbed your arm and then pulled you out of ear shot of Joe.

“No,”you told her, already knowing where the conversation was going.

“Come ON, Y/N. Joe’s one of our friends too.”

You scoffed, not looking at her.

“There’s room for Joe at the Air BnB and he’ll make it fun! You guys used to be so close. What happened?”

You sighed.

Yes, you and Joe had been close. Until he slept with your roommate at the end of freshman year even though the two of you had spent the entire semester flirting and you had thought you’d made it clear that you liked him. You hadn’t wanted to mess up the group dynamic so you’d never said anything, but you had stopped hanging with Joe just the two of you.

“I just want to have fun, alright? And if Joe comes people will probably stop us and want pictures and…”

“Stop. When was the last time any of that happened?”

You paused to honestly try and think of a time, but couldn’t think of one.

"Come on, we haven’t seen him in like a year. Please?”

You thought about it and looked back at Joe, who had started grabbing bags of groceries out the car. For the most part, yes, he was a good guy. Maybe you’d been too hard on him.

“Fine, let’s invite him.”

“Yes!” Kodi hugged you and gave you a kiss on the cheek. She turned back to Joe and almost ran to him. You followed slowly behind her.

“So, Joe, if you’re not doing anything this weekend, would you want to come with us?”

Joe’s face lit up. “Really?” He looked to you.

You nodded reluctantly.

“Yeah! I’d uh…I would love to come. Only if everybody’s okay with it,” he replied, still looking at you.

“Yeah, I’m fine. We should probably get this stuff inside.” You grabbed the 24 pack of water and headed inside.

You went home and ran over your packing list one more time. You were pretty sure you had everything. You opened your suitcase and saw your old swim suit that you had grabbed. You took it out and grabbed your favorite two piece instead. If Joe was coming, you were going to let him know what he was missing out on.

“I’m here!” Sahara came running into the kitchen the next morning. “I’m sorry I’m late but I have a good reason!” She practically skidded to a stop. She was the last to arrive, so everybody was sitting at the kitchen table or leaning against the counter.

“You’re not actually,” Kodi smiled at you, knowing she’d done the right thing by telling Sahara an hour earlier than you should have.

“What do you…?” Sahara looked around when she noticed Joe leaning against the counter drinking coffee. Sahara squealed and threw herself in Joe’s arms.

“Oof!” Joe laughed as he hugged her back. “Well hi.”

“When did you get here?! How was filming? Are you coming with us? Is…?”

“Sa, sh…it’s waaaay too early for that,” Marcus grumbled.

“I don’t even care! I’m so excited that you’re here!”

Everybody (except you) laughed and Joe let her go.

“We should get everybody’s bags in the car,” Dylan clapped his hands together. Everybody grabbed their bags and headed out to the van. Except you and Joe because your bags were already in the car.

You could feel the tension in the kitchen grow once you realized that the two of you were alone.

Joe cleared his throat. “Y/N, I um…thanks for inviting me.”

“Well, it was Kodi’s idea,” you told him as you set your coffee cup in the sink.

“Yeah, but you also agreed to it. I know we’ve had…” Joe gestured as if he were going to catch what he was trying to say. “A falling out. And I’m not sure what exactly happened but, I’m hoping that maybe we can…mend things?”

You stared at him, trying to come up with a response. What the hell did he mean he didn’t know what he did?

“How can you…?”

“Hey! Are you two ready?!” Kodi yelled in to the two of you.

“Let’s get going,” you blew past Joe to join your friends. This was going to be a long weekend.

The trip to the Air BnB was about a four hour drive. Kodi drove the whole way and you were in the passenger seat. Everybody else was piled into the back of the van.

The ride wasn’t horrible. Actually, it was pretty fun. Joe always had a way of making everybody laugh, even when you tried not to.

Once you got there, you all split up and took rooms. The only problem was there were only 5 beds.

“Where’s Joe going to sleep?” Kodi asked as she and Sahara sat on your bed, watching you unpack some things after.

“Not here,” you told her.

“I know that, but Dylan and Marcus’ room only have single beds.”

“Then he can sleep on the floor.”

“Oh stop it. We’ll figure it out. So, Y/N,” Sahara exchanged a look with Kodi before looking at you. “Are you ever going to tell us what happened to you and Joe?”

You grabbed your swimsuit out of your suitcase. “Nothing, we just don’t click anymore. Now, can we go the beach and get drunk?”

The three men had already gone out and they were in the water when you and the other women came out with your beach towels and your tumblers full of drinks.

As you started laying your towel down, you noticed Joe was staring at you.

“Can I help you, Mazzello?” You called out to him.

The rest of the day was relaxing, but that night, you were all going to go out to dinner. You put on the dress that you had packed. It was tight and hugged your curves the way that you loved. You smiled to yourself as you finished your makeup in the mirror.

“Y/N,” there was a knock at the door and then it opened to reveal Joe, in a button down and khaki shorts. “Whoa.”

“What?” You looked down at yourself to make sure that your dress hadn’t bunched up or anything.

“Nothing, you just,” Joe cleared his throat. “You just look nice is all.”

You narrowed your eyes, thinking that maybe he was messing with you. “As opposed to how I normally look?”

Joe’s eyes widened comically before he back tracked. “No! No that’s not what I meant. You always…I…” Joe breathed deeply through his nose.

“Whatever, let’s just go, alright?” You pushed past him and into the living room where the rest of your friends were waiting.

Dinner was fine, nothing extreme happened, but you kept catching Joe’s eye. He would give you shy little smile and then you’d look away. But that damn little smile gave you little butterflies in your stomach. You were a little annoyed with yourself. Yes, your crush on him never actually went away. And sure he was cute. And when you forgot about him messing with you all of freshman year, you could admire how funny and nice and sweet he was. He…

“Y/N?” Kodi waved a hand in front of your face.

“Hm?” You blinked at her.

“I asked if you were ready to go.”

“Oh! Yeah, sure.”

The six of you walked back to house.

“So, where is Joe going to sleep?” Dylan asked after another hour or so of everybody drinking in the living room.

“I mean, Y/N is kinda the only one that has room,” Sahara said sheepishly.

You frowned. “I am?”

“Yeah, Marcus and Dylan only have 2 single beds, me and Sahara are sharing the other double.”

“It’s fine, you guys, I can sleep on the couch,” Joe offered.

Everybody looked at you, silently asking if you were actually going to make him sleep on the couch. You hated yourself for what you were about to offer.

“No, Joe, you…shouldn’t have to sleep on the couch,” you grumbled. “We can share the bed.”

“Y/N, you don’t have have to do that. Seriously, I’m fine with…”

“No, it’s fine just…give me a minute to get ready for bed,” you stood up and walked up the stairs to get ready to sleep. That’s all that was going to happen. Sleep.

You were in bed, scrolling through your phone fifteen minutes later when Joe walked in with his bag. He was wearing a plain blue t-shirt and a pair of boxers. You swallowed. It all seemed so…domestic. And you hated that you still wanted that with him.

“Hey, I uh…just wanted to thank you, again.”

“Not a big deal.”

Joe yawned. He then got into bed on the other side of the bed than you. “We can make a wall of pillows or something.”

“It’s fine, let’s just get some sleep,” you told him as you watched him plug his phone in. Then you turned the light off, ready to pretend that you weren’t (still) attracted to the guy you were in bed with.

“Good night, Y/N.”

“Night, Joe.”

You listened as Joe’s breathing evened out and it didn’t take long for you to fall asleep after that.

The next morning, your alarm went off. You turned it off and you woke up warm and happy. You hummed and moved closer to the source of warmth. You felt the arms around your waist tighten.

“Good morning to to you too, sweetheart,” you heard in you ear. His voice was husky with sleep.

You giggled. And then you realized who that was. You rolled over and looked at Joe. His eyes were still closed and the sun was peeking through a small gap in the window curtains, hitting his hair so it was a copper color. It was beautiful. God, why did have to sleep with Shari? You could’ve been waking up to this for years. Who knows if you’d still be together or not, but damn your time together probably would’ve been great.

“Are you staring at me?”

“I usually don’t wake up with movie stars in my bed, so I’m enjoying it while I can.”

Joe laughed and opened his eyes. You watched him blink a couple time before his eyes adjusted. Once they did, he lifted on corner of his mouth. “Morning.”

“Morning. Want to tell me why you’ve got your arms around me?”

“Want to tell me why you haven’t moved from out of my arms since you’ve been awake for like ten minutes?”

You tired to come up with a response, but nothing came. “Touche,” you said, but still made no effort to move.

“So, are you going to tell me why you stopped liking me the summer after freshman year or am I supposed to guess?”

“I didn’t stop liking you. You just…hurt me.” You decided to be honest since Joe was asking you point blank. You figured it was time for the two of you to talk about it since it was just the two of you.

“I did?” The look on Joe’s face was hurt, like he really didn’t know what you meant. “What did I do?”

“You slept with Shari.”

Joe’s brow furrowed. “Who?”

You rolled your eyes. He didn’t even remember sleeping with her? “Shari? My roommate freshman year?”

Joe frowned and shook his head, still not understanding what you were saying.

“Come on, Joe. Shari? She looked like she got choked out the morning after you slept with her.”

“Whoa! I never slept with your roommate.”

“Yes you did. We were all at Peter’s party and you left to get us refills and…”

“I came back and you were gone.”

“I went to the bathroom! I tried to find you for like twenty minutes. Then I saw Kodi, and she was drunk, so I took her back to her room.”

“I went back to my room after I couldn’t find you, I swear.”

You shook your head with a bitter chuckle. Why was he lying about it?

“Joe, it’s fine, I mean, I thought that we’d kinda had something over the semester but shit happens and…”

“Y/N,” Joe squeezed your hip. “I thought that we had something, too. And then, by the time I got the courage to ask you out, you…started acting weird. Like you didn’t want to be around me anymore. I thought that I had done something.”

“You did! You slept with Shari!”

“But I didn’t!”

“Yes you did! I spent the night with Kodi and when I went back to my room the next morning, Shari had hickies ALL over her neck and when I asked her she said it was ‘Joe from her film class’,” you used air quotes. “You guys had ‘American History in Film’ together.”

Joe stared at you for a long moment, his face screwed up in confusion. “I honestly don’t…” then you could see the realization hit Joe like a truck.

But it wasn’t the realization that you thought.

“There were two Joes in that film class.”

You blinked at him a couple times. “What?”

“There were two Joes! There was me and there was another guy named Joe that eyed Shari all the time!”

“I…you…what?” You repeated.

Joe watched you and then started laughing. Full on laughing. “So this whole time you’ve been mad at me because another guy got laid?”

Now you felt like an idiot. You’d been holding onto this stupid grudge for years and it was for nothing?!

“Well, I…I thought that…” you mumbled, trailing off because you couldn’t really think of what to say. You felt Joe was still laughing at you, but you rested your forehead on his chest so that you didn’t have to look at him.

“I’m so sorry,” you told him. “I can’t believe I was so bitter about something that didn’t even happen. And I didn’t even ask you! God, I’m sorry!”

Joe was still chuckling to himself and he slid one hand up and rubbed your back.

“So, if I’d asked you back then on a date, would you have said yes?”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from beaming. Then you looked up at him.

“Yeah, I would have.”

Joe’s face lit up and you decided that you really like that look on him. “What if I asked you for a kiss?”

“Now or then?”

Joe glanced down to your lips and then back up to your eyes. “Now.”

“I’d say yes,” you breathed out. You responded without even thinking about it.

Joe put his hand on your cheek and rubbed under your eye for a moment before he leaned in and your lips met.

You closed your eyes as a heat spread through you that you hadn’t felt for a while. Joe’s lips slid against yours and you wrapped your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss.

Joe groaned and then licked his way into your mouth. The two of you moving against each other made the bed squeak a couple times.

You pulled a way for a moment to catch your breath. You kept your eyes closed, but still smiled.

“We should’ve done that a long time ago.”

“I think we’ve got some lost time to make up for,” Joe lifted your chin and you opened your eyes to look at him. “But only if you’re up for it.”

“THESE WALLS ARE REALLY THIN YOU GUYS!” Sahara’s voice came through the wall.

You looked at each other with wide eyes before Joe snorted and the two of you started giggling to each other.

“Maybe once we get home, before Mr. Hollywood needs to get back to work.”

“I’m going to hold you to that,” Joe pecked your lips one more time. “But until then, can I see you that two piece again?” He waggled his eyes brows.

You scoffed and pushed his chest. “Don’t press your luck, Mazzello.”

Joe grabbed your hand and brought it up to his lips. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Now that I’ve got you, I won’t be letting go anytime soon.”

You liked the sound of that.

#joe mazzello #joe mazzello x reader #joe mazzello imagine #joe mazzello x you #joe mazzello fic #joe mazzello fluff #boh rhap cast #bohemian rhapsody #the pacific #possessed by love event #ple #ylmp event #krissys writings

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starkerforlife6969 · 5 years

Text

Mafia Boss Tony

“You know, I’m going to have to get a lot stricter over who I employ.” Tony drawls, tugging mildly against his bonds.

Richard laughs, shaking his head and polishing the edge of his gun against his sleeve. “Oh Tony, I forgot how blasé you could be in the face of danger. It really has been too long since our paths have crossed.”

He watches as Tony shrugs noncommittally. “Not long enough in my mind, but hey, I’m flattered.”

He’s not scared. Richard can see that, but he also knows that it takes a lot more than imminent death to scare a man like Tony Stark. And he has a lot more. He places his gun on the desk and takes out his laptop. As he gets up the feed, he watches Tony try to take in the room.

They’re in Richard’s study, a room of hard-oak and dark leather, and Tony is bound opposite him, and there’s only one door- right behind him, that Richard is facing, that has two of his men, armed, flanking either side. It’s a small operation, but smaller is better. Just look at Tony- it had been so easy to infiltrate his inner circle. That’s what happens as a result of poor management.

Richard smirks as he finds the feed, before clearing his throat. Tony glares at him, but still looks fairly unconcerned. “I have a little something you might find interesting.”

“Hey, buddy, don’t put yourself down like that. A lot of men are below average- not me, but it’s nothing to be ashamed of-” his words cut off as Richard spins the screen around and this is brilliant.

“The great Tony Stark,” Richard breathes in awe, taking in his face, “lost for words. I never thought I’d see the day.”

There’s no clever response. No witty remark. Tony’s eyes are fixed on the screen and Richard gets up and walks around the desk so they can watch it together.

There is Peter Parker.

He’s sitting on his bed, one knee tucked under him and the other leg hanging off the side as he’s scribbles notes onto the edges of a thick text book. The lens watches him through the window- quite clearly on the fire escape as Peter continues to write, unaware. He’s dressed in an oversized hoodie that almost hide the shorts he has on underneath and he has lovely, long legs for such a tiny boy. “Peter Parker,” Richard sighs.

Tony flinches hard.

This is fantastic. In all his years, in all his years of trying he’s never been able to evoke a reaction from the great Tony Stark, but now- he’s going to savour it. “It was hard to track him down,” he muses, “you sure did a good job hiding him, but...well,” he chuckles, “not good enough. What is he- a college student?”

Tony doesn’t say anything, but Richard can see a muscle in his jaw twitch.

“He’s cute. I can see the appeal. I wouldn’t have guessed that he was your type.” He pats Tony’s shoulder in faux-comraderie, “you’re still keeping me on my toes.”

But it’s true. Peter Parker is...he’s cute. With floppy brown hair and big black glasses and from following him the last few weeks, Richard has discerned that the boy is...innocent. He spends his time being studious, or seeing movies with his friends, or on the phone to his aunt. He’s precious and innocent and not corrupted. It must be refreshing in a life full of Mafia-riddled darkness.

Richard had thought maybe he’d gotten it wrong before he’d realised that- Peter works two jobs, and there’s no way he should have such a nice laptop, or phone, or afford VIP movie tickets every other day, or be able to go to such a good college with such high tuition fees. Even now, looking at his bedroom- the bed spread is silk, and the textbooks look new and there are gifts everywhere, evidence that Tony Stark is very much in love. It’s adorable. “My guy’s on the fire escape,” he says, just to fill the silence and Tony lets out what sounds like a choked-off sob, “we got this new tech- in his contact lenses. We see everything he sees. He’s got an earpiece in so I can talk to him. Tell him to go inside and...” he hums, watching as Peter flops down onto his bed, seemingly confused by a question. “How does your boy hold up in a fight, Tony?” Probably terribly. The boy doesn’t look like he has the heart to swat a fly.

Tony takes a deep, shuddering breath. “You don’t have to do this, Richard.” He says, and his voice is wrecked. “He doesn’t have anything to do with-”

Richard laughs, because obviously. “You’ve given yourself a rather big achilles heel, Tony. I mean-”

“We can negotiate.” Tony spits, more desperately now, really pulling against his binds. “We can-”

“The great Tony Stark negotiating. I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Dicky, please-”

“How did you meet?” Richard asks curiously, eyes falling back to the screen as Peter smiles to himself- apparently figuring out the solution to the problem. He really is adorable.

“Richard...Richard, there are lines we don’t cross, okay? This is...this is a line. This is a red line.” He’s forcing the words out, he sounds like he’s about to have a panic attack. Richard remembers a time when Tony threatened. When he was confident and frightening. This Tony is a man trapped.

He wants to push it a little. “Marcus,” he murmurs, and the footage suddenly straightens up. “Go inside.”

“No!” Tony screams at a volume that makes Richard wince a little. “No! No!”

They both stare at the screen as the window shatters and Peter looks up with a jolt, only to scramble away in terror as Marcus closes in on him. He turns to try and make it for the door but Marcus catches him and backhands him brutally across the face.

Tony is screaming like a man in agony, and when Peter’s face turns back to look right into the contact-camera, there’s blood streaming from his nose and his cheek is red and one of his glasses lens is cracked. He quite clearly yells ‘please’ but there’s no audio, which Richard thinks is a shame. Next time.

“Choke him.” Richard murmurs, “the boy hurts very prettily, doesn’t he?”

On screen, Marcus’s hands wrap around that lean pale throat and Peter is lifted clear off the ground, fingernails scratching across Marcus’s arms as he starts to cry.

“I’m going to kill you.” Tony hisses, a new darkness in his voice. Richard’s smart enough to know that the tone is not one to be taken lightly. “I’m going to kill you and every single person your twisted heart lets you love-”

“Then you’ll only be killing me.” Richard corrects, he watches as the colour in Peter’s face starts to drain, “don’t kill him, Marcus.” He warns, because having Tony broken is nice. The boy should experience a little more torture.

Immediately, the choking stops and Peter is flung onto his bed, panting for breath and lying weakly.

“Should we have some fun, Tony? How about we see what’s underneath that sweater? I bet you mark him up real good-”

The doors burst open and Richard barely has time to look around before shots fire and his two bodyguards fall to the ground. A group of men- Tony’s men- rush in and Richard is being shot in the leg. He hollers in pain, falling to the ground as Tony is cut free.

In no time at all, the cold metal of the gun is pressed against his head. Tony glares down at him like a basilisk. “Tell Marcus to leave.” He orders, his finger on the trigger.

Richard isn’t stupid. “Get out, Marcus. Don’t touch him. Get out now.”

Tony’s eyes are on the feed, but the gun doesn’t move. Richard can’t see, but he has to assume that Marcus does as he’s told, before Tony brings the gun down hard on his face and he blacks out.

When he wakes up, what could be hours or days later, he isn’t sure, he’s bound to a chair and his jaw aches- he’s been gagged. His thigh burns like fire and his brain is a hazy muddle. He looks around and freezes. Tony is sitting in plush, back letter chair and Peter is curled on his lap in that same oversized sweater. Tony is pressing an ice-pack onto Peter’s cheek where a blue bruise is blooming and his other hand is tight on Peter’s thigh.

The boy cringes at the cold and tries to nuzzle into Tony’s neck. “I was so scared,” he whispers, and Richard realises that he’s crying.

Tony kisses the top of his head and closes his eyes. “I know, baby, I’m so sorry. Nothing like that will ever, ever happen to you again, okay?”

Peter sniffles. “Am I a weak spot?” He asks, sounding miserable, “do I make you vulnerable?”

“No,” Tony hisses immediately, vehemently, holding him tighter. “You make me strong. Okay?” He tilts Peter’s chin up to kiss him and Richard looks away.

He’s fucked up. He’s doing to die.

Marcus is probably already dead.

The pain in his leg is almost unbearable and he doesn’t want to make a sound, but he whimpers and both Tony and Peter turn to look at him immediately.

Shit.

#starker #mafia boss tony #kidnapping #hurt peter #mentions of torture #brief description of violence #happy ending #murder

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taehyungiejiminie95 · 5 years

Text

The Necklace

Confused - Yoongi

Warning: Internalised homophobia, strong language

It is written in law that on a child’s 15th birthday, they will be presented with a necklace that will guide them to another necklace, belonging to whom their heart will. These necklaces are forged in the depths of an deep sea facility, and must be requested between the birth of the child and the child’s 1st birthday in order to be fashioned correctly. One must include a small vial of the child’s blood, a lock of their hair, and also sufficient DNA from both biological and (where appropriate) adoptive, fostered or guardians of the child. Failure to comply will result in the disobedient parties being punished accordingly, and the child will need to be taken under the observation of the facility. No child is permitted to surpass their 15th birthday without receiving this gift. Should this – for any reason – happen, the child should report this to their local authorities quickly so that this may be rectified.

You could swear that you know the cute pizza delivery guy. Something about that gummy smile and awkward attitude. It turns out that you do, and it gets much worse when you realise you have the same necklace. There’s just one problem with that - he swears he isn’t gay.

You sigh to yourself as you check your phone, wondering where in the hell your pizza is. It’s only been 20 minutes since you ordered, but you’re hungry, and that means you’re grumpy. Peeking out the curtains, you see a motorbike pull up across the road, and you jump in excitement, rolling over your bed to find a shirt as quickly as possible. You find some old band t-shirt from your emo days and tug it on quickly, before patting your hair down. Then the door knocks in a slightly peculiar way - two quick knocks, a pause, and then another. You think it’s kind of cute,

“Coming!” You shout, running through your apartment, trying not to fall over in your haste. In the back of your mind, you register the need to stop just wearing socks through the house, and either invest in some grippy ones, or just wear shoes. You know full well that you’ll end up hurting yourself at some point.

When you swing the door open, your jaw nearly drops. The man in front of you is absolutely stunning, and you nearly drool all over yourself as you look at him. His motorcycle helmet is matte black, and contrasts amazingly with the mint green fringe poking out of it. The man in a little shorter than you, and quite pale, save for the flustered blush painting his cheeks. You smile a little lopsidedly, leaning against the door frame. You definitely recognise him from somewhere,

“I have your pizza?” The man asks a little nervously, and a name comes to your mind - Yoongo, or something. Yoongi? Yongpo? You can’t remember exactly, but you have a distinct memory of him and some guy hooking up at a college party a few years back. Your smile pulls into a smirk, thinking that he’s game. You’ve always tried to be respectful when flirting with a guy, since a lot of people can be off about that kind of thing, but you definitely have some blurry memory of Yoongo/Yoongi/Yongpo being with your old friend Marcus at some point,

“I mean, I have money to pay you with, but I could umm… Pay in another way if you’d rather?” You say, dropping your voice an octave, and looking down at Yoongi as you bite your lip seductively. Maybe it’s not your best pick up line, and sure it is a little crude, but you’re finding it hard to restrain yourself around this man. It feels like something in your chest is drawing you to him, and your mind is a little foggy. Then the man replies, and the fog clears pretty quickly,

“No, money is perfectly fine. I’m not into that… stuff,” The man spits, his lips curling a little in disgust. In an instant, his face transforms from a perfectly sculpted angel to a snarling dog, looking at you with little more than utter hatred. You back away in shock, just knowing that your cheeks are bright red and there are tears in your eyes. It’s been a while since you’ve faced hate that blatant for being gay, but maybe that’s because you waited to finish college before you came out. You’d been scared that you’d get looked at exactly like this,

“Oh I’m sorry… I thought that… Never mind, here, keep the change, I’m so sorry,” You stutter nervously, trying not to let the tears slip as you snatch your pizza from him, barely registering that you just handed him a £50 note for a £15 order as you shut the door. With the barrier between the two of you, you don’t feel as vulnerable. You take a few deep breaths and screw your eyes shut tightly. For a minute or so, you just wait there, eyes shut. But the longer you think, the more you convince yourself that you were just seeing things. This is the 21st century. Nobody is that homophobic anymore, right?

As the night continues, you find yourself laughing at what had happened. You’re almost certain you’d just overreacted. You absolutely remember him at that party, with Marcus! He was sure as hell gay then, and you’d bet your pizza that it hasn’t changed. You can usually tell if someone isn’t gay, and you really weren’t getting those kinds of vibes from him. Maybe he just had a problem with the band t-shirt. You glance down at it and cringe at it yourself. Yeah, that’s probably it.

It gets to about 11pm and your brain is itching about his name. You’re sure it started with a ‘Y’ but you’re struggling to remember what came after that. With a sigh, you reach for your phone, reducing yourself to actually having to come into contact with people. Socialising is awful, but so is having someone’s name on the tip of your tongue all night. You pull up a random person you knew went to all the parties held during college and send a quick text, hating yourself for even caring enough to send a stupid text:

Me [11:07pm] Hey, I know it’s late but I think I saw someone from college and I can’t remember their name

Jamie [11:08pm] Woah bro, that sucks! Need a hand?

You roll your eyes at the prompt response. Nobody from college really has a life, so you’re hardly surprised. You also inwardly and outwardly cringe at the response of your old ‘friend’. He still talks like he’s in college, and he’s so painfully stupid that you want to bang your head against a wall. Of course you need help! Like you’d ever call for just a catch up!

Me [11:10pm] Please. I think his name begins with a ‘Y’. He delivers pizza now and he’s got green hair. Also, he’s probably got something against emo bands. Ring any bells?

Just as you hit send, you realise how stupid it sounds. You were just ridiculing your own peers for texting ridiculously, and yet here you are at a ludicrous hour thinking about some guy who clearly isn’t into you. And yeah, deep down you know that’s why you’re doing this. It’s because Whatever His Name Is was so incredibly attractive and it hurt your heart to actually look at something so amazing. You sigh and let your head hit the back of the couch, not giving your phone a second glance until quite a while after it buzzes:

Jamie [11:13pm] Yeah I know who you mean! Marcus dated him for a bit. Min Yoongi. Am I right?

Me [12:01am] That’s him. Thanks. And you say he was with Marcus? What happened?

You text back with a slight frown, wishing you’d replied sooner. What if Jamie was already asleep? You can feel your hands shaking with anticipation, but luckily your phone signals a reply quite promptly:

Jamie [12:04am] I’m not sure. Marcus wouldn’t tell me. I can find out for your bro, I’ll call you next week!

You groan aloud at the prospect of having a genuine phone conversation with him. Sure, he’s been helpful, but he’s annoying and he was loud in college, and he’s probably still loud now. But at least you’ll get answers soon. Your breath seems to even out a little, and you find yourself laughing at yourself once again. What is it about this Yoongi that’s got you so hooked? You ponder that question as you pull on your sweatpants for bed. You think it over as you brush your teeth. You coin the possibilities as you get dressed the following day. The questions stays stuck in your head all week.

Then it’s suddenly Saturday night again, and you find yourself ordering a pizza at the same time as last week. You scoff at the thought that it could be because you’re hoping Yoongi will deliver it to you, and you’ll get the chance to talk to him. You know full well that it’s ridiculous, but it doesn’t matter does it? You’re wearing a totally non-offensive plain blue t-shirt this week, but you still find yourself nervous. Why won’t your hands stop shaking? Why is your breath uneven? You just like his face. It’s not like you share the same necklace or anything.

His motorcycle pulls up over the road again, and you wait as calmly as you can in your living room, sat on your hands as you wait for the door to knock. You smile when you hear that it’s the same as last week - two quick taps, a pause, then another. This time, you stand up slowly, smoothing your clothes down as you focus on making your way to the door calmly this time. Your hands are still shaking, but at least your breathing is mostly even. You open the door slowly, giving Yoongi your sweetest smile,

“I have your pizza,” He says, a little deeper and less nervous than last week. It’s kind of sweet, really. His cheeks aren’t as flushed, but he still looks slightly dishevelled and yet still as soft as he originally did when you saw him last week. You thank him graciously and take the pizza from his slightly shaking hands - probably numb from the cold - with ease. You’re more than pleased to see that yours aren’t shaking, so you can reach for your wallet without worrying about dropping the pizza,

“Look, I’m sorry about last week, Yoongi - it is Yoongi, right? Min Yoongi?” You ask, slightly panic stricken when Yoongi’s head snaps up, looking at you incredulously. For a moment, you think you could’ve got in wrong, but then he nods and your face melts into a smile again. You hardly even notice the way Yoongi leans forward a little, his pupils dilating slightly, “Yeah, I’m sorry. I was a bit forward, and I didn’t mean to upset you. I was wondering if I could maybe take your number, and see if we could take things at a better pace?” You continue hopefully. But at the mention of his number, Yoongi leaps back like he was shocked,

“I’m not gay. Stop trying to get on me. I don’t even know you,” Yoongi tells you, slinging the bag for pizzas over his back as his cheeks burn red with embarrassment. You can’t help but smile at the sight before you, suddenly unable to fathom why you’d question the reason he was on your mind all week. It’s because he’s beautiful! But the words coming out of his mouth cause you to frown slightly, and you tilt your head as you probe his confession further,

“We went to college together. And I could swear you dated Marcu-” You start, but Yoongi’s face snaps into an awful expression of fiery defensiveness,

“You must have the wrong Min Yoongi. I don’t like guys. Now just give me the money for the pizza,” Yoongi rushes, and you find yourself reeling from the speed of his words. Shocked, you just go into your wallet and get out another £50 note, knowing he’ll probably appreciate the tip. ‘Maybe it wasn’t the shirt he had a problem with’ you think to yourself as he storms away. You sigh as you watch him tear away on his motorcycle, much faster than you believe is strictly necessary. He didn’t even strap his helmet back on properly.

The pizza tastes like cardboard in your mouth as you chew it, and you just don’t understand why you could possibly be so hung up on Yoongi. He can’t really be that special. You’re only on your third slice of pizza when your phone goes off, and you nearly choke on it in your haste. Despite your new resolution to not care about Yoongi, you’ve been anticipating Jamie’s call all week, and there’s no way in hell that you’re missing it - even if Yoongi truly is as rude as he seems,

“Hey! Hey, Jamie, you okay?” You stutter quickly. You’re worried that you’ll come across as too eager and Jamie will get the wrong idea, or think you want to actually talk to him. You shiver at the thought of politely sitting through a catch up with him. Especially if you’re sober. Maybe if you had several shots of vodka first, you’d manage it. But sober? Oh no, you barely even managed it in college when you genuinely wanted a social life. But not now. His voice is enough to make you regret even asking,

“Hey bro! Yeah, I’m just finishing my pre-game for a frat party, so I’m out of it. Just thought I should call before I forget! You good?” Jamie slurs into his end of the call, and you actually physically shiver at the sound of it. You’re in your twenties, and he’s still going to frat parties? You could swear people your age are meant to go clubbing, and not to frat houses. You’re sure there must be something horribly illegal in that confession. You swallow and close your eyes, trying to keep the growing irritation out of your voice,

“Yeah I’m okay, thanks. Just wondering about this whole thing with Marcus and Yoongi. He seems really weirded out about it,” You press, knowing the irritation would have been obvious to someone less drunk and more intelligent. Luckily, Jamie is absolutely pissed and as dense as a brick, so you’re fine. You never were great at hiding emotions, so you’re not sure why you thought this instance would be any different. But yes, luck seems to be on your side briefly, because Jamie definitely didn’t pick up on it,

“Marcus was weird about it too. He says they were together for a while, but then Yoongi got beaten up badly and stopped talking to him. Sounds harsh, doesn’t it? To just ghost your boyfriend,” Jamie voice sounds a little more sober, and you’re thankful. It meant you didn’t miss a word. You can practically feel the cogs whirring away in your head, so you know what you really need is some time alone to think it all over. You end the call as quickly as possible, wishing Jamie the best of times at his frat parties, and not waiting for his reply before turning your phone off. He probably won’t remember the conversation in the morning anyway.

You sit with your pizza as you think. Yoongi was beaten up badly and then just stopped talking to his boyfriend? It seems odd, but the two events are clearly linked, if one led to the other. At first, you assume that the beating led to the break up, but it doesn’t quite make sense. Why would getting hit lead to dumping your boyfriend? But then you think - what if the boyfriend lead to the beating, which led to the break up? That makes more sense. Yoongi got beaten up because he was with Marcus. You sit with that idea for a moment, and everything seems to make a bit more sense. Being gay got Yoongi hurt, so he has a problem with gay people now - or maybe just with his own desires? It seems entirely possible in your head that Yoongi is trying to act straight just because of that event.

Suddenly, you feel bad for hitting on him.

The following week, you find yourself sat in your basketball shorts and vest, wondering why you even bothered to order the pizza. You’ve made clear that you’re going to leave Yoongi alone. The pull you feel doesn’t really matter. You’ll get over it when you meet the person with your necklace, so it’s clear that it’s only temporary. However, your heart still jumps a little when the door knocks.

You know it’s definitely Yoongi, because you can feel that pull strengthening, and he really does seem to have a particular knock. Two quick taps, a pause, then another. You try to slow your footsteps as you approach the door, wanting to keep everything as calm and as innocent as possible. It’s not fair to push him when he’s probably suffering some pretty bad trauma from what happened back in college.

You resolve cracks a little when you see his pale skin, once again marred by a flustered blush. He really is stunning. You try not to smile in the way you had last week, but you still want to try and look friendly. You settle for a slight smile, that you’re sure he’ll be able to tell is forced. He seems like the intelligent type. If he does notice, though, he doesn’t say. He just hands you your pizza. You thank him with a nod of your head as you reach for your wallet, but stop short when you hear Yoongi splutter and cough,

“Are you okay?” You ask, before you can stop the words coming out of your mouth. You mentally scold yourself - you didn’t want to talk and have him get the wrong idea of why you’re asking. You meant for this to just be a normal pizza delivery, but he had to go and choke on air,

“Where did you get that?” Yoongi asks through the coughs, resting a hand on your doorframe to steady himself, and pointing the other at your necklace. You frown and look down at it, briefly examining the bronze plate, about 3cm in diameter, and the various colours set across it, like they’d been thrown from a paintbrush. You then look back up at Yoongi, who’s eyes bore into yours with an emotion that looks almost like rage swirling in it,

“It’s my necklace. You know, the Necklace everyone gets on their 15th birthday?” You stutter, feeling your calmness slowly seep out of your body at Yoongi’s expression. It only darkens further at your response, and you back up a little, slightly scared,

“Impossible,” He mutters, and you frown quickly, trying to decipher what he means. But your mind only runs in circles as you try to figure it out, trying to come up with anything appropriate to shoot back. You come up short in terms of anything even remotely intelligent or snarky, instead having to settle for a simple syllable,

“Why?” You ask. But, of course, ever the enigma, Yoongi doesn’t answer. He just turns around and sprints down to his motorcycle. You can’t do anything but stare at the open door, watching him fix his helmet on properly. It’s only then that you realise you didn’t pay him,

“Hey! Yoongi! You forgot the money!” You shout, stepping out of your house to wave your wallet at him, hoping he’ll pull over and at least let you pay for your pizza and maybe even talk to you. Then the sound of his motorcycle starts up, and your hand falls to your side as you sigh in exasperation. If he wouldn’t stop for money, nothing’ll do it. All you can do is watch as he tears off down the street at top speed, more than definitely outside of the speed limit.

You’re sure that’s it, and you’ll never see him again. You don’t bother to order pizza from that place again, knowing similar things will keep happening. You think that if you don’t put yourself in his path, he’ll vanish from your mind. But that is exactly where you’re wrong. It’s late on Friday night, four weeks after when your door knocks. Two quick taps. A pause. Then another.

Your head’s spinning as you stumble to the door, and you feel kinda fuzzy. Yeah, fuzzy is probably the best way to describe it. You know it’s not very eloquent but that’s the only word you have for the stuff going on inside of you right now. You fumble clumsily to unlock the door and wrench it open just a little too fast for it to be normal, and your breath catches in your throat at the very sight of the flustered blush dusted across the pale cheeks of one Min Yoongi.

The said man doesn’t give you a chance to speak before he’s shoving past you (with quite an intimidating aura for someone half your size) and into your home, not hearing you shout after him asking what the hell he’s doing. He can’t run away from you last month and now barge into your home! You don’t even know the guy,

“Where did you get that necklace?” Yoongi finally barks after a few moments of shocked silence pass when he flat-out ignores your demands to know why he’s here. The thing is that you probably would’ve let him in if he’d asked. Baffled by his tone, you stutter out a response,

“Like I told you last time, it’s the one I was given for my 15th birthday. Now could you please just tell me what-“ You start, hoping Yoongi will be more open to reasonable questioning now that he’s started talking in general. However, your hopes are squashed when Yoongi’s eyes snap up to yours, dark and dangerous as he strides towards you, height difference be damned, and stands just inches away from you, glaring unashamedly with murder in his eyes,

“Don’t bullshit me, that isn’t possible! Just tell me where you got the damn thing,” Yoongi growls, and you flinch back as you stare down at him incredulously,

“Look, you need to stop. I’m sorry that my answer upset you but seriously, I won’t have you force your way into my home and then start making demands,” You tell him firmly, trying to keep your voice calm. You didn’t even know you had this much patience in you, but you have enough to hold you still until Yoongi’s shoulders finally sag, and he looks around with a slightly lost expression on his face, like all the fight was drained out of him,

“I’m sorry it’s just.. I don’t know, there’s obviously no excuse for this but… fuck, I’m such an idiot. I shouldn’t have come, I’ll just go,” He amends, unable to meet your gaze as he heads for the door again, shaking his head at himself. You’re fine to watch him leave, absolutely speechless, but as if some reflex in your body is controlling your movements, you step in front of him. You had no more choice over it than you do jerking away from boiling water,

“Do you want to talk about it?” You blurt, not thinking it through at all. This could be a seriously bad idea and you know it, but for some reason you just don’t care. You could quite literally get killed since you don’t really know anything about Yoongi other than he’s clearly a very angry man who you used to go to college with. He might be a serial killer for all you know, but here you are offering to talk to him about issues that don’t even affect you!

But then you look at the hurt look in his eyes and the way his shoulders curl in slightly and realise that you could never turn this man away. For all the anger and spite buried in him that he just took out on you, he’s soft and small and obviously hurting. You remember when that was you. How could you turn a blind eye to it?

“No strings or catches, I swear. I’ll just put the kettle on and we can talk as two normal people about why one of them suddenly burst into the other one’s home and started shouting,” You say, some of your teasing personality leaking into your tone when you see Yoongi’s sheepish half-smile. You can tell that he’s embarrassed, and it tugs on your heartstrings a little. He nods without saying another word, not wanting his harsh voice to ruin the kindness you’re offering him. He knows he doesn’t deserve it, but he takes it anyway. After a few seconds of standing with an awkward silence hanging around, you remember you offered to make a hot drink. You jump into action and lope into the kitchen, calling over your shoulder to ask Yoongi what his fix is,

“Do you have any coffee?” Yoongi asks, trying his best to keep his voice calm and as velvety as yours was. He’s not sure if it works or not, “I’m not much of a tea drinker,” He admits, and you smile knowingly to yourself at the dark circles under his eyes that provide evidence for his preference,

“I have some, but honestly I don’t drink it myself. It’s mainly for hosting purposes, really,” You joke, getting down the seldom-used instant coffee powder from the back of the cupboard and finding your hot chocolate mix too. Yoongi snorts at the sight of it when you set it down next to the kettle,

“How did I just know you’d be a hot chocolate kind of guy? I bet you have whipped cream, chocolate shavings and marshmallows too,” He jokes in an unusually casual tone for him, and you quickly shove the marshmallows back into the cupboard, hoping desperately that Yoongi didn’t see. He did, but just rolls his eyes in lieu of teasing you further. He leans back against the counter opposite from where you’re making the drinks, trying to act as if he doesn’t feel quite so out of place while you busy yourself, wondering what the hell you’re even doing at this point.

You hand Yoongi his coffee first, and he smiles at you in thanks. It’s not necessarily a kind or warm smile, but it’s got a tinge of appreciation in it and that’s more than he’s been able to give you before. He swallows hard when he sees that you’ve put some milk in it. Most people assume he likes it black, but he’s partial to a little milk. The thing is, Yoongi knows that is such a stupid thing to be happy about! He’s really getting just a bit excited that you can read his mind better than other people and that doesn’t even make sense. But to Yoongi, it means something. He just doesn’t know exactly what.

He takes a moment to survey you as he sips his too-hot drink, the heat burning his lips but he finds himself unable to care as he thinks things over. So, you have the same necklace. That much is clear since Yoongi would know that design anywhere. The only problem is that Yoongi had been hoping he’d find it attached to a pretty woman who he could get along with without these feelings that he’s disgusting, or wrong…

Yoongi shivers at the thought that this is the life he’s resigned to. The kind of life he can’t have, the kind of life that he doesn’t want. He can’t bear to think of his parents right now.

You turn around with you hands wrapped around your hot chocolate, and lean opposite Yoongi. You try not to internally coo over how small he looks, and the red flush on his face from the steamy drink he’s holding. You fail,

“So, first things first. Why are you here?” You ask gently as you would when around a baby deer that you’re afraid to scare off. Yoongi scowls at your words and you barely stifle a groan, wondering if you will ever get the answers you want. You distract yourself petulantly with your hot chocolate while Yoongi deliberates his answer. The confusion on his face makes you wonder for a second if he genuinely doesn’t know. He’s clearly acting irrationally and is in no way comfortable here. You have to acknowledge the possibility that Yoongi may have turned up solely on curiosity, anger, confusion or whatever cocktail of emotions that were governing him.

Eventually, he kind of just sighs and puts his coffee down beside him, and promises himself that he will kick your ass - size difference or not - if you try and make any kind of advance on him for this. You watch on in confusion as his pale hands disappear down the collar of his hoodie, finding the chain of the necklace and dragging the pendant up into view, eyes looking anywhere but yours as you zero in on it.

You choke on your drink and quickly whirl around to place your hands on the counter, trying to keep yourself standing. Your fingers fumble clumsily to place your mug down and you try in vain to stop yourself from coughing up a lung. Your mind clouds over, though, and you find yourself unable to focus on breathing properly when you know that Yoongi has your necklace on.

Yoongi sighs to himself and rests his head back on the cupboard, and he tries to figure out what kind of silver lining could be found in this kind of situation, realistically speaking. Of course, he comes up completely blank, which really sucks and makes everything just seem that much worse. Luckily, before Yoongi can think up too much existential dread, the sound of heavy breathing stops, and Yoongi forces himself to look at your back as you flex your shoulders carefully before turning around to meet his hardened eyes.

You can’t help but think that this whole situation is reminiscent of some bad movie, and you kind of hate it. But then again, this cute guy is in your kitchen, and whether or not he’s going to fall in love with you doesn’t even matter because either way you’re going to be okay with it. Some people have platonic soulmates, and maybe that’s all that this is meant to be. You think you’ll be okay with that as long as you’ll get to cuddle him every now and again, because he’s such a squishy boy and you can just tell he’s secretly the cuddliest person in the world. But obviously you’re not going to outright say that to him. Maybe with time you’ll get comfortable enough with each other to do that,

“So, we’re soulmates,” You say, not smirking or joking or trying to imply anything. You keep your tone as neutral as possible because Yoongi obviously has his issues with this (if his reactions are anything to go by) and you don’t want to make this any harder for him that it already is. In response to your calmness, Yoongi mirrors it. He nods robotically and reaches for his coffee again. It doesn’t burn his lips as he sips it this time,

“I guess so,” He sighs, “But don’t expect anything from me. I’m serious when I say that I’m not-“

“You’re not gay, I know,” You interrupt, eager to get your point across before Yoongi has too much of a chance to form any lasting judgments about your character, “It’s okay, I’m not going to make you suck my dick or anything,” You scoff, allowing some humour to creep into your tone. You smile just a little bit at the flush that makes it’s way onto Yoongi’s already-red cheeks,

“Yeah, thanks for that,” He replies drily, “At least you make a good cup of coffee. But yeah, I guess we should talk about this. You came onto me like a moth to a flame, so you clearly are gay. What do you want from me and this whole soulmate thing?” You can hear the caution in Yoongi’s tone. He’s talking so bluntly, like this is some business transaction. Maybe that’s his way of dealing with it, but it doesn’t sit right with you. There’s some deep emotional connection that’s supposed to bloom between the two of you and it seems that Yoongi isn’t quite playing ball yet,

“Well, I’m kind of bummed that I got all necklaced up with someone I can’t fall in love with, but it doesn’t matter all that much. I guess I was only built for the strictly platonic kind of love,” You admit with a shrug of your shoulders, trying not to show how badly this is actually hurting you. You can curl up and cry about that loss later, but for now your soulmate needs to believe that you’re already okay with it, not that you’ll grow to be. Yeah, you were really hoping for the twink version of Prince Charming to come along ready for you to whisk him away, but that’s just not in the cards for you. You’ll have to resign yourself to a life of one night stands and a painfully straight best friend,

“Platonic?” Yoongi repeats, a confused look slowly etching itself onto his face. He thought it would be much more difficult to sort this whole thing out than you just dismissing your past advances like that. Maybe being your ‘soulmate’ won’t be as difficult as Yoongi assumed it would be,

“I know I can’t make you be gay, Yoongi. That’s not how sexuality works. If you say that you’re not, then you’re not. Sure, my best friend is gonna be pissed that I’ll end up demoting him at some point, but he’ll get over it,” You elaborate, and that finally makes Yoongi crack a smile - a real one! It’s cute and gummy and it makes you sigh so hard internally that you realise you’ll be pining for life. Maybe it would be worth it to see that smile one more time, though,

“I though that would be a lot harder. I thought I was going to have to fight you off and just go without a soulmate for the rest of my life,” Yoongi admits, setting his now-empty mug down beside him. You snort unattractively and roll your eyes,

“Don’t think so little of me, Yoongi. I have been known to abide by the rules of consent form time to time,” You drawl sarcastically, and you fix Yoongi with a look that makes him smile yet again, setting those butterflies off again. You try your best to digest them and Yoongi looks at you for just a few moments too long. An awkward kind of silence is left between you as his mind wanders off and he realises that he won’t ever be paired up with a nice woman to start a family with - well, not a woman that could really make him happy, anyway. Not that anyone would pair up with him at all with these stupid necklaces. That hope is gone now,

“Okay, well,” Yoongi interrupts himself, promising silently to that side of him that he can start this existential crisis later on, “I need to go. Thanks for the coffee, it was good. I’ll leave you with my number so we can go out and get to know each other or whatever. Barging my way into your home won’t work every time,” He jokes slightly, but his tone is too matter-of-fact to achieve the effect he was going for. Yoongi’s too caught up in going through the motions to even notice, moving his mug to the sink and writing his number down on the notepad and pen your hands miraculously find as you watch him, absolutely bewildered.

Did he just switch off his emotions? You could have sworn that you saw something brewing behind the hard front he so stubbornly upholds, but then suddenly it was like a door was slammed shut and locked up whatever that was behind it. You barely keep your frown hidden as Yoongi says goodbye, not lingering at all as he leaves the paper on the side for you. It’s not until Yoongi has climbed onto his motorcycle and kicked it to life, his visor snapped down tight, that you allow the frown to finally settle on your face.

There is most definitely more to Min Yoongi than he’d like for anyone else to think.

A few days later, the two of you are meeting up for a coffee - yeah, it’s just so original, but you didn’t want Yoongi to get the wrong idea if you’d invited him to dinner or something more fun. You can’t go out and do things without risking it seeming like a date until you’ve grown a bit closer. But still. Coffee. That’s what came out of your mouth.

Regardless of the setting though, you’re quite excited to get to know Yoongi. Especially with that mystery he’s given you to think on when you saw him last. Although, if you’re being honest, you’re trying not to think of him at all. The more you try to understand Yoongi, the less you actually do. Then you start asking questions to yourself like ‘why was he so angry about the necklaces?’, ‘was Marcus just a college experiment?’ and (the worst of all) ‘how are you supposed to act like you’re happy with a platonic relationship when you’re already harbouring a massive crush on the guy?’,

“Hey, over here!” Yoongi calls just a little bit more enthusiastic than he meant to. You’d wandered into the coffee shop slowly - you’ve never been one for coffee shops, really, so it’s a little disorientating - and Yoongi had saved you the embarrassment of standing awkwardly in the way while trying to find him.

Not that you could have possibly missed him, you realise when your eyes settle on him. If his mint green hair didn’t give it away, then his clothes would,

“Yoongi, you know it’s below freezing outside, right?” You ask sceptically as you sit down in the chair across from him. You’re silently glad he picked a table in the middle of the floor rather than one of the snug booths around the corner. You never know what’s going to happen when it’s with Yoongi, or so you’ve come to accept,

“I have a jacket,” He replies coolly, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. Of course Yoongi is the type of guy to do this! He’s wearing ripped jeans and a white t-shirt. Yes, it does look good the way he’s tucked it in, but that’s not the point. He’ll freeze, and you know it. As if he doesn’t notice your internal turmoil at how good he looks when you’d promised to control and stifle all of your favourable thoughts for the man, he shoots you a half smile as he nudges your drink towards you, “I got you some hot chocolate. They didn’t have marshmallows but they did have whipped cream and chocolate shavings,” He mutters, not quite meeting your eye as you smile down at your favourite drink,

“We should get past this tsundere act, you know,” You tease lightly, “Or are you going to demand payment for your efforts?” You continue and Yoongi raises an eyebrow at you, and you think you might have heard him scoff that he should do under his breath. Either way, he smiles up at you afterwards - not that gummy smile he gave you last time, but this one is good, too. It’s genuine, and that’s what matters,

“So… this actually isn’t the most awkward moment of my life, I have to admit,” Yoongi sighs dejectedly after a few moments pass of the two of you just glancing around, trying to think of something to say and yet coming up blank. You latch onto the morsel of conversation that Yoongi’s thrown at you with excitement,

“Well, now you’ve mentioned it, you have to tell me. What’s the most awkward moment of your life so far?” You probe and Yoongi gives you a look of complete horror at the prospect of having to relive it, and you can’t help the deep laugh that forces it’s way up and out of your chest. You haven’t seen his face so expressive before, and it’s adorably comical, to say the least!

“I have this older brother… before we both moved out we used to share a room. Now, there’s 7 years between us, okay? We weren’t that close, but because of the whole sharing a room thing we had to get along,” Yoongi starts, and you lean forward in interest, taking a sip of your hot chocolate as you go, “The age difference was a bit difficult though. He was still in school at 19 because he got held back a year, and obviously couldn’t move out when he was still a student. Basically he used to bring dates back to the house… yeah, exactly!” Yoongi shouts, gesturing to the shocked look on your face before he continues, “One night, I went to bed early because obviously school was too much stress for little 12 year old me. But then, I wake up at gone midnight and I hear some noise downstairs. Sometimes my brother came in drunk and messed around downstairs but…” Yoongi trails off, already holding back laughter, “Right, I’ll cut to the chase. He sent his girl upstairs to bed, while he tried to find his keys, but they were both so drunk that his girl ended up thinking I was him and trying to get into bed with me,” You splutter in shock but Yoongi keeps going, “And she’s laying there next to me saying how much she loves him, trying to kiss me, thinking that I am him! Now don’t tell me that’s not awkward, especially when your brother walks in and sees it!” He complains, and you shake your head in disapproval,

“Min Yoongi, I’ll admit that’s quite bad. However, I would argue that’s more traumatising than awkward. Buckle up while I tell you the most awkward story in the world - my life,” You explain dramatically, Yoongi over-acting that he’s hanging onto your every word as you launch into the top 3 worst things that have ever happened to you.

You pass at least a few hours just like that, just talking about your best and worst memories and laughing and trying to one-up each other. It’s easier to talk to Yoongi than you would’ve thought, and you find yourself opening up about what your dream job was, and how you’re not really happy about where you are in the world right now,

“Me neither, to be honest. I don’t want to be delivering pizza all of my life. It was only supposed to be a job to make ends meet while I pursued my passions, but here I am three years later doing the same thing,” Yoongi tells you, and you think you see just a spark of vulnerability in his eyes. You probe gently at the passions he mentioned, and Yoongi seems happy to talk about them. It strikes your heart with a pang that it’s probably been a while since anyone’s let him talk about them so freely, “I love music. I have some tracks of my own but it never really took off as a career. I have a Soundcloud following and that, but nothing ever really came of it. That and basketball. I nearly won a scholarship to some sports university, and if I’d taken it I’d be the Asian Michael Jordan,” Yoongi jokes ironically, and you smile sadly at that,

“Why didn’t you take it?” You ask, deciding not to make the comment about Yoongi not looking much like a basketball player, and surprisingly Yoongi doesn’t dodge this question either. He just shakes his head and takes a moment to have a sip of his third coffee of the day,

“My parents. They never really supported any of that. They turned it down for me and got me enrolled in what they called a ‘practical degree’. Engineering! I have a fucking Engineering degree and I hate it. The dumb thing is, I tried to find a job in that field and just make the most of it, but they weren’t hiring. How ridiculous is that? I should’ve done Media and pursued music more seriously, or taken that sports scholarship,” He sighs, and you can visibly witness his mood drop this time,

“Is it too late to change it now? I know you can’t go back in time and take your sports scholarship or study for a Media degree, but you’re not stuck being a pizza delivery man. If you wanted, you could quit your job tomorrow and start working your way up to what you want to do. You could start your own music label if you really wanted! But you’re not stuck. People like you don’t get stuck,” You tell him, the inspirational words flowing out of your mouth before you can even stop it. Silence descends between the two of you, and over the whole coffee shop since it’s getting late now and most people are going home. You think you’d overstepped the mark for a second before Yoongi finally replies,

“I’m not one for getting motivated, but you had me there. I’m not going to quit my job tomorrow, because I quite like being able to pay my rent, but doing something about my passions sounds like a good thing. Maybe… never mind,” Yoongi starts, but cuts himself off before he gets too far. You nearly whine in protest, knowing that if you let Yoongi start shutting out some things he’ll probably shut everything down. You push him to tell you, and with a sheepish smile he eventually does, “We should go to a basketball game. I haven’t gone to one in ages and if we’re going to be friends then you need to know some things about the best sport in the world,” Yoongi tells you, and you brighten up at the prospect of Yoongi suggesting something to do together,

“That sounds like a great idea! I’ll search it up when I get home, and see if any of the big games are happening near by,” You suggest, and Yoongi nearly glows as he smile, nodding and agreeing that it’s a great idea. Even if no big teams are playing, Yoongi mentions to you that even college games are pretty fast-paced, and could be worth a watch. You quietly wonder if you’ll maybe get him to go to a game at the college you used to go to, but you don’t say it out loud. Given what you learned all those weeks ago (no matter how hard you try not to think about it) you get the feeling that maybe college wasn’t the best time in Yoongi’s life,

“Hey, uh… you guys kinda need to leave. We’re closing soon and we need to wipe down your table,” A spotty-faced teenage boy tells you nervously, and you nod quickly. You know what some customers can be like, flying off the handle for nothing, so you know the last thing he needs is the last two customers giving him any shit. You smile encouragingly and apologise, downing the last of your drink as Yoongi does the same. You pretend not to notice the small tip Yoongi hands him for being so patient. Damn tsundere, he’d probably deny it and get mad at you for bringing it up.

Neither of you linger as you part ways, waving goodbye in a perfectly acceptable way as Yoongi mounts his motorcycle and you head off in your own direction. It’s not far, and you don’t really want to get on the back of Yoongi’s motorcycle, anyway. You still have that fluttery crush feeling, but it’s okay. This friendship is okay. It’s enough.

It occurs to you as you lock your front door behind you that if either you or Yoongi had ever pursued your dreams the way you wanted to, you may never have met. It’s funny how life works.

You do end up going to that basketball game. It’s been about 3 weeks since Yoongi brought it up, but you’re still just as excited as that moment. Yoongi seems hyped for it too - in his own way, of course - and you can’t stop talking as you get onto the train, trying to get all of the rules down before you get there. You were always more of a football kind of guy - well, you watch the World Cup when it’s on, if that counts.

It’s not too far to get there, but far enough that you can’t get a taxi and since you’ll probably drink a bit when you’re there, you can’t go on Yoongi’s motorcycle. Luckily enough, it doesn’t take long and then the college stadium is basically on top of the train station.

At periods throughout the game you wonder if you’re annoying Yoongi a bit, because you do have to ask for clarification every now and again. He hadn’t exaggerated when he said it was a fast game! But then you go to grab the both of you another drink and the happy look on Yoongi’s face as his eyes wander over the court astounds you. He looks so peaceful you almost feel bad for interrupting him to hand him the drink.

You also try to ignore how date-like it feels. This wouldn’t be the case if it was a group of you, but since Yoongi hasn’t mentioned any friends and none of yours would be interested in basketball (or able to keep their hands off Yoongi in the way that you’ve learned to) it’s a private kind of night. Well, not private. There’s a huge crowd and two teams of very tall men running around, but it just feels a little intimate. But you push the thought to the back of your mind with the help of more alcohol, and soon you don’t even care. This is your night with your soulmate, platonic or not.

It’s a fun night until you get on the train back home.

There’s barely any seats left when you and Yoongi jump on, laughing loudly and obnoxiously since you’ve only barely caught it, and then you have to trawl through the carriages. To try and find somewhere for the both of you to sit. Sometimes you forget how intimidating you might look, but the horrified looks of older women and younger teenagers reminds you to quiet down a bit. You smile apologetically and hurry to find somewhere before the train departs. You’re not drunk, but you’ve had enough to drink that your balance is ever so slightly off,

“Hey! I’ve got some seats here,” Yoongi suddenly says, pointing at a section of four seats that are all turned towards a table between them. You smile happily and collapse down next to the window before Yoongi gets the chance to, “You’re such a child, you know,” He scolds half-heartedly as he takes the seat closer to the aisle. The two of you buy a bottle of water each from the person with the snack trolley as she wanders down, knowing you should try and lessen any effects of the alcohol if you can.

Everything is still fine until a man sits himself down opposite you on the table, apologising since it’s literally the only seat left on the train. You and Yoongi wave it off good-naturedly and go back to your conversation about the game, happy to pass the time like that until you ruin everything with your loud mouth,

“I could swear I know you!” You blurt at the man who’d sat down opposite you, and narrow your eyes to examine him closer, “Have we met before?” You ask, and he finally looks up, realising you must mean him. The smile he gives you is slightly embarrassed, but still cute. You wonder to yourself if he’d take your number, or if he’s one of those traditionalists who won’t take anyone’s number unless it’s his soulmate,

“You know, you look kind of familiar, I won’t lie. Did we go to school together, maybe?” The man offers, and it’s not until you realise who you’re talking to that you feel that Yoongi’s tensed up beside you, not moving or talking. You’re not even sure if he’s breathing,

“You’re Marcus,” You breathe, involuntarily throwing Yoongi a side-ways glance. As your eyes move, Marcus’ do as well, and it’s as if the whole train carriage falls silent. All you can hear is your own heartbeat, and you can’t bring yourself to say anything else. Marcus doesn’t either, and Yoongi certainly doesn’t. The train ride stays deathly silent up until you pull into the station, forcing you to dwell on the situation.

This is Yoongi’s ex-boyfriend Marcus. The Marcus who he got beaten up for being with. The Marcus that must be part of the reason why Yoongi ‘isn’t gay anymore’.

Yoongi is up before the train stops, and hitting the ‘open doors’ button repeatedly until it lets him off. You hurry to catch up, hoping that Yoongi will let himself talk to you about it. You’re not that close yet, but you’re a little hopeful that this will be the prompt Yoongi needs to open up to you. You’re not supposed to hide your feelings from your soulmate, because they’ll always understand. It’s part of the reason that you get paired up.

You’re surprised to find that Yoongi heads back to yours, but then again you’re not. Yoongi is full of surprised, and also he left his motorcycle parked outside your house, so he needs to get it before he can get home. When you finally build up enough speed to walk next to Yoongi, you nervously glance at his face to try and work out what he’s feeling, but he doesn’t look angry. He looks shocked, sure, but not angry, and that’s a relief. He waists for you to unlock the door patiently, and smiles at you gratefully as you let him in. The train ride has clearly sobered the both of you up for now, and everything is quiet,

“You’re welcome to stay here tonight. I know you’ve had something to drink so I can’t let you ride home. My couch is quite comfortable. You can use the spare toothbrush in the bathroom cabinet and I’ll grab you some blankets and stuff,” You tell him as you shut the door and kick off your shoes. Yoongi throws a thanks over his shoulder as he heads to your bathroom, leaving you to try and compose yourself as you track down your less crappy blankets to lay out for Yoongi.

While said man takes his sweet time getting ready to sleep, you find yourself cracking open a beer and downing it before Yoongi is padding back into the living room, hair damp from the shower he clearly took. You smile at the darker colour the water’s made his hair and gesture vaguely at the set up of the couch you’d arranged. Yoongi smiles back at you as he leans back into the make-shift bed with a groan, and suddenly you’re talking,

“What happened between you and Marcus?” You say, not able to see what way this is going through the haze in your mind. Yoongi sighs as he rests his forearms over his face, not looking at anything as he tells you that it was just a stupid teenage experiment, like ticking all the boxes just to be sure he was definitely straight, and he broke it off when he realised he was, “That’s a lie. I know you were beaten up for being gay,” You tell him nonchalantly, spurred on by the warmth of alcohol in your veins. You always were a bit of a lightweight, “Is that why you won’t let yourself fall in love with me? Is it because- is it because being beaten up made you internalise their homophobia? Do you hate yourself for liking men?”

You’re too busy with your own muddled thoughts to remember that this was the subject you’d always promised yourself you wouldn’t breach. It’s Yoongi’s own business and his own trauma that he was welcome to share with you over time, but not something you would ever have the right to ask him about, let alone so bluntly.

The house is quiet before Yoongi snaps, eyes hard and burning with anger as he pulls his jacket on and finally snaps,

“You have no right to talk about that you pathetic fuck!” He yells at you, voice already sounding rough from use. You flinch back in fright, but Yoongi doesn’t stop. He doesn’t step towards you, but he maintains eye contact terrifying enough that you know he’s beyond angry, “If you think for one second that we are close enough, or ever will be close enough for that then you’re as stupid as you look! I fucking knew you were pining for me, and this just shows it! You’re a manipulative little prick, trying to twist my emotions and fuck with my head so I’ll go gay but you’re wrong! You can fuck yourself and live without any fucking soulmate. Fuck you,” He finishes, and your ears ring with his words as he grabs his helmet and storms out. Whether or not he had a few drinks tonight, he can’t stand another moment in your house.

The silence he leaves is worse now he’d just been filling it so brutally, and that pulling you felt in your chest when you were around him feels like it’s just snapped. If it’s the red strings of fate, then yours was just cut off by Yoongi himself.

You try to tell yourself that you’re not someone who lets people get to you so easily, because you’re really not. You’ve always been thick-skinned, and you don’t cave in and give up so easily, but this is just so different. It’s not melodramatic to be upset when your soulmate leaves you. Not that you were even together, but you were happy with the friendship that was blooming. For about 3 weeks there, your life was good. Yoongi made you smile and with some more time you know you’d be a better person since meeting him. You have a feeling that you were having the same effect on him, but that’s gone now. You went somewhere that you never should have gone, and you’re now suffering the consequences.

Part of you wants to think about how Yoongi is, and wonder if he’s feeling the same pain that you do every time your eye sees the mint green colour that reminds you of him, or the sound of motorcycle that isn’t his speeding past, or hear about a new basketball game. Even music is different now, knowing how deep his passion for it ran. But that part of you needs to stay silent. You don’t want to think that Yoongi is probably fine. He was never as gone for you as you were for him. Still are, really. Even now you want to see him again, even just as friends, to ask him about his day and listen to him vent about how much he hates his job and how badly it sucks. You know you shouldn’t still be wanting that, but you can’t help it. Maybe you are as pathetic as Yoongi said.

Your mental health spirals over the next few days, and you struggle to get out of your bed for your job. The looming threat of being evicted if you don’t make rent is just enough for now, but the longer you go knowing you’ll have to live without a soulmate, the harder it gets. You read stories about people who’s soulmates die before their time, or who leave them because of their history, but you never imagined it would hurt this bad. You go through your day like a zombie, only doing what you have to and nothing more.

Tears are already swimming in your eyes when you open your front door that night. It was another tough day. Your boss shouted at you for not having your ‘customer face’ on when dealing with people. You’d not been able to do anything but take it. He wasn’t wrong. You can’t manage anything but a monotone voice and a smile is beyond you. You hadn’t even been able to explain that your soulmate had cut ties with you, and that’s why you’re finding it so difficult at the moment.

You were so caught up in your own emotions that you didn’t notice the motorcycle parked outside, the fact that your door was unlocked, the living room light was on and there’s a man sat on your couch, looking at you with worried eyes. You don’t realise it until he calls out your name.

If you could control your reaction, you might not shout so loudly, but for the first time since Yoongi slammed your door behind him, you feel something other than numbness and pain. Anger. The red-hot blazes of anger burn your veins as you stare at him, and you start letting it out,

“Get out! Get the fuck out of my house, you heartless prick! You think you can lose your temper with me and call me all those names and then just waltz in here like I owe you something? No! How did you even get in here? You’re a fucking serial killer, I knew it! You need to leave right now or I swear to fuck I will call the police and have them arrest your dumb ass for breaking and entering! Who do you even think you are? You can’t just- you can’t just-“ You choke on your words as you continue, and you have to collapse down onto the chair opposite, panting and trying to catch your breath. You refuse to let yourself cry in front of Yoongi, and that resolve makes breathing just that much more difficult.

It’s not until you regain a hold on your temper that you realise Yoongi hasn’t moved. He’s sat on your couch, curled in on himself a little because you’re quite scary when you’re angry, but otherwise unmoved. You notice as you examine his face that he doesn’t look much better off than you. His eyes are rimmed with red, they look hollow and he’s shaking, too. Part of you purrs at the though that he was hurting too, but the other part of you is appalled that this whole soulmate set-up became so messy. The whole point of necklaces is to avoid all of this heartbreak,

“You leave your key under the doormat. You must think you’re so slick and sneaky with that, but you’re not. It was the first place I checked,” Yoongi says, obviously trying to joke with you but his tone ruins it. He sounds as empty as you feel, “I knew you wouldn’t let me in, and even though I understand why, I couldn’t take the chance. We need to talk,” Yoongi continues, giving up on joking in favour of just telling you how it is. An awkward silence hangs in the air for a few moments before Yoongi is talking again, “Look, I’m an idiot. I said some awful things to you and I just hate myself for it. Not that you didn’t already know that,” The sigh he lets out sounds pained, and you find yourself shaking your head,

“Yeah, you’re a dick for saying that to me, but I crossed the line as well. When I first saw you I thought I recognised you, so I talked to some old college friends,” You use the term loosely, “They told me what happened, but I wasn’t going to mention it to you. It can’t have been…” You pause to try and rephrase, not wanting to make this situation any worse, “It wasn’t any of my business. I’d had a few drinks, I don’t even know what I was thinking,” Your voice trails off quietly, and you’re unsure if Yoongi even heard.

It’s a little unsettling how weird this feels. The time you’d spent with Yoongi as of late has felt so natural, but this feels forced and empty. If you had a heart left to break any further, this would certainly do the trick. The only sounds in the room is you shifting into the chair further, and the shallow sound of Yoongi’s breath.

He gathers his thoughts as best he can, hoping you’ll know not to interrupt him when he starts talking. If he stops, he’s not sure he’ll be able to continue.

He hasn’t moved much the last few days, and his job has been angrily blowing up his phone the whole time. If he doesn’t go back tomorrow then he won’t have a job to go back to at all. The time Yoongi’s had has been full of thoughts and feelings and honestly it was quite scary. He’d forbidden himself to ever touch those feelings again, and he still hasn’t in any depth, but he’s getting the urge to try and explain them. That’s part of the reason that he’s here. Other than the fact that he’s been in pain being so separate from his soulmate, he wants to talk about it. He wants to tell you what happened,

“It wasn’t… just an experiment. Me and Marcus,” Yoongi says as firmly as he can. You jolt a little and look up at him in shock. You’re not quite sure what you were expecting Yoongi to say but it definitely wasn’t that, “I liked him, and he liked me. We knew we’d break up at some point because our necklaces were different, but it just felt right at the time. It was just a bit of fun, so neither one of us were expecting it to last long,” You don’t say anything or move in fear of interrupting Yoongi, “I was on my back from his house one night, and I saw some of his friends waiting outside. I nodded at them but didn’t stop to talk. We weren’t that close. It wasn’t even that far between Marcus’ dorm and mine, so I’d told him to stay there, that I could walk myself home. So yeah, I was on my own. There was a shortcut that cut the walk in half, but it was a dark alley. Narrow. It wasn’t until I got too far in to turn around that I realised his friends were following me,” Yoongi breaks off with a deep breath, running. Shaking hand through his hair. The colour is starting to fade now, “You know what happened next. They beat the shit out of me. I hadn’t been playing basketball for a while so I wasn’t that strong, and there were too many of them, anyway. I just had to take it, while they were shouting all these slurs at me, telling me to leave Marcus alone… they made it clear they didn’t want their friend around a fag like me, as they put it,” His shoulders sag as he falls silent, and you know that his story’s over.

His words hang in the air and all you can do is sit three, tucking your knees into your body as you wonder how fucked up those guys had to be. Then you wonder how badly it fucked Yoongi up. Clearly this is the reason why he refuses to be more than friends with you, but you can’t even fathom it. Sure, you’ve had more than your fair share of homophobia directed at you, but this is too much,

“When I think about being in love,” Yoongi presses on, and you feel the urge to tell him to stop if it’s going to put too much strain on him, but you can see that he needs to explain this to someone, “When I think about being in love like that, it messes with my head. I feel like I’m back there… I just don’t know if I can do it. Seeing you be so openly gay fucks with my head too. Part of me wishes I could do that and be that, but at the same time I’d hate it. I know it’s confusing, but this is what it’s like in my head. It’s sick,” He mutters bitterly, and you silently agree. It is sick. It’s sick that Yoongi should feel physically sick for something completely normal to him!

Part of you desperately wants to hold him close to you and run your fingers through his hair as if you can comb out all of his problems, but you know full well that you probably couldn’t do anything worse in this situation. He really has internalised those people’s homophobia and directed it at himself with such force that he can’t even enjoy his soulmate. He can’t enjoy the love written out for him because someone decided it wasn’t right.

There’s nothing to say, you realise, when you finally come out of your own head. No comforting words are going to soothe Yoongi, and all they’re likely to do is make him feel patronised or pitied. You know he doesn’t want your pity. So all you can do is sit there, not touching or speaking or moving, but just being in each other’s presence and hoping it will do something to fix the mess that this has become.

Eventually, you both fall asleep where you’re sat, and sleep dreamlessly for the first time since that basketball game.

You wake up the next morning to Yoongi sniffling in the kitchen behind you and the sound of the kettle boiling. He was trying to do it quietly so you would wake up with you favourite drink in front of you as a peace offering. He’s still not totally sure if you’ll forgive him for flying off the handle, yet. There wasn’t a conversation last night, just Yoongi doing a lot of talking and you doing a lot of listening.

There’s a funny sore spot on your neck from how you slept, and you’re still a little out of it. For a moment, you don’t really remember what happened, and the scenario just seems really domestic and happy. You stretch out with a smile on your face, until the memories trickle back into your head slowly. That’s when you taste the awkward atmosphere, and remember that this is most definitely neither domestic nor happy. After that realisation hits you, you feel Yoongi’s eyes graze over your back, seeing that you’re awake,

“Sorry, I hope you don’t mind. I… I made you some hot chocolate and I found the marshmallows… I feel really bad for the last few days and, I don’t know, I guess I was just hoping that we could talk even though I’d understand if you asked me to leave,” Yoongi says as he sets your drink down in front of you, cradling his own coffee between his hands, “First I shout at you and then I break into your house. I’m not much of a soulmate for you,” He says ironically, and you smile slightly when you realise that’s the first time Yoongi has referred to himself directly as your soulmate.

Yoongi doesn’t meet your eye as he talks, and you pick up the steaming drink to sip from it gently trying not to burn yourself but needing the warmth. This is so difficult. So much has happened, but Yoongi really did hurt you when he exploded like that. You don’t want to forgive him so easily, but he opened up about a huge point in his life and his deepest feelings. You don’t know what to do in the slightest, and eventually Yoongi lowers himself onto the couch awkwardly, hoping that you won’t be kicking him out just yet. If the last few days have taught him anything, it’s that if you don’t talk about this then you’ll lose each other. Yoongi tries not to dwell on the obviously romantic connotations of that ultimatum.

He struggles to find things to look at other than you, but manages to do it for a few minutes until you lean forward and set your hot chocolate down, thinking your thoughts might be nearly coherent enough to explain. You’ll try and satisfy both parts of your dilemma,

“Okay, you were an asshole the last time you were here. You know that, and you know me. If you think I’m letting you off the hook this easily then you’re having a laugh,” You say firmly, and Yoongi ducks his head a little, still unable to meet your eye, “But I also understand why you did it,” You continue softly, and Yoongi is shocked into looking up at you, “You have issues, Yoongi. I’d feel bad just kicking you out without a second thought in light of that. Can you understand my dilemma?” You ask, and Yoongi sighs to himself, rubbing his forehead as if trying to cure a headache,

“Yeah. I mean, this was always going to hurt, given my situation and your… being a guy. We wanted different things from this whole necklace shit but I don’t know if I can give you what you’re looking for,” He explains, and you weakly ask him what he wanted from it. Your voice sounds so much thinner than it normally does, but you can feel this like a punch in the gut. Yoongi doesn’t want you, not in the way you want him. You always knew that, but hearing it for certain just aches, “I wanted a nice woman to come and be matched up with me. I wanted to be able to forget what happened in college forever. I wanted to believe my lie - that it was just an experiment. I wanted to get married and have a family without the drama, and even if it wasn’t quite what I wanted deep down, it would be enough. Enough to… I don’t know, pretend that the part of me that wants something else is just a bad dream,” Yoongi explains and you cast your eyes downwards. His are filling with tears and you want him to have some privacy from your scrutiny, “I guess I’m not exactly what you wanted, either,” He spits bitterly, trying to laugh it off but failing,

“You kinda look like it, I’ll give you that,” You half-joke, not wanting Yoongi to know how transparent his act is, “I know you don’t want me to go into it, so we can just skip over this whole bit and be platon-“

“Tell me,” Yoongi interrupts, and you’re taken aback by that for a few seconds. You have to steady your heartbeat, but you oblige regardlessly,

“You’re cute,” You say, barely above a whisper, wanting Yoongi to be able to pretend he hadn’t heard you if he’s already changed his mind. But he doesn’t make any move to stop you, so you continue with caution, “You’ve got a sweet smile, and these kind eyes that you try to hide behind a frown. You act tough but you’re deeper than that and I’ve seen it. You always pack an extra water bottle when we go out and if you have any change on you then you always give it to the homeless. I always imagined that I’d be the Prince Charming for a sweet man like you. I always wanted to be stronger and taller and all of that shallow stuff, and when I look at you I can see that side of me clearer than ever. I want-“ You pause, cutting yourself off, “I’m not sure you want to hear this. I don’t think I can say it knowing it could hurt you,”

“Please, tell me,” He murmurs, eyes meeting yours with a new, indescribable kind of emotion in them, “I need to hear this. Regardless of how this affects me, we need to know about what the other wants,” You nod wordlessly and push on as if you hadn’t stopped,

“I want to protect you. I want to hold you close and tuck you under my chin when it’s cold. I want you to sleep on my chest and I want to shower you with the affections that you deserve but because I know you can’t give me that, I don’t expect it. I want to be crystal clear about that,” Your voice fills with conviction as you move to sit on the coffee table in front of Yoongi so that he has no choice but to look at you, “You don’t ever have to give me anything. I’ll never even ask for it. If you want a wingman, I’ll be the best wingman you could ever ask for. This necklace doesn’t mean shit and I swear to you that all it means to me is that I needs to make you happy. Even though that’s not with me, I’ll still do my best to give you what you do want and what you do need,” Fire burns in your eyes, and anything Yoongi was going to say fizzles out in his brain. His eyes widen solemnly and he nods dumbly, only able to get out one single word,

“Okay,”

It’s been several months since you and Yoongi had that huge… fight? You use that term very loosely, because it wasn’t so much a fight as a huge eruption and misunderstanding of emotion. Regardless of what word you use to describe it with, it’s over now and it has been for a long time. You’ve grown so much closer in the time since then and it’s genuinely so amazing. You’re no closer than best friends are - you meet at least twice a week, sometimes watching some films, and sometimes going out to do things. Yoongi was anxious about joining the local basketball team on his own as a hobby, so you’d gone with him the first time just to help him out. A few months down the line, and you’re their second best player! Yoongi, of course, takes the top spot. It’s ridiculous since you’re so much taller than him, but whatever! You have to remind yourself constantly that he’s good enough to have gotten offered a full scholarship, and you’ve been playing for a few months, but it doesn’t stop you getting frustrated when you play against him in small games and warm ups.

You’re the notorious pair, so competitive on the court and yet so close off the court.

Yoongi didn’t have many friends when you met him, but you had a small group who were happy to welcome him in. One remembered him from college, but everyone else accepted without question that you’ve found your platonic soulmate in Yoongi.

You’re both part of each other’s family, now. His parents didn’t have a problem with you after they got over the fact that their Yoongi wouldn’t give them any grandchildren, and your parents adore him. Of course, you made to clear up that Yoongi was most definitely not any kind of love interest for you, while tactfully avoiding why you wouldn’t even try. What happened to Yoongi remains privately between you, him and the therapist he’s been seeing.

He visits them once a week to try and get over his internalised homophobia and make him a more healthy person. You’d mentioned it to him in passing one night when you’d been having one of your deep chats. It happens every now and again, usually after one of you has had a bad day or if Yoongi feels particularly uncomfortable with himself. You’d figured he’d brush the idea off, but within a few weeks he’d found somewhere that said they could try and help him to start to deal with it. He hasn’t looked back since.

Yoongi is most definitely getting better. Anyone could see that! He’s happier, less anxious and is more positive in general. He still won’t tell you when a guy catches his eye, but you’ve seen his eyes wander a few times. Even though he snaps out of it quickly, it’s progress and that’s the important things. You wouldn’t care if Yoongi never told you when he finds someone attractive, if you’re totally honest. It’s about him being happy with every single part of himself. That’s what’s important here,

“If I ever get over this… you know what I mean… completely, will you want us to be together?” Yoongi asks you out of the blue one night. You’d met him from his therapy session to grab some dinner and catch up, and he’d been a little more thoughtful than is normal for him. He’s always a little drained after his sessions, but he has a little crease in his forehead where h’s been frowning, and that’s never happened before. This must be why,

“Yoongi, I don’t expect anything from you. Not one little thing. You don’t owe me anything,” You say, horrified that he thinks that’s what you want, “If you ever feel comfortable enough to want a guy , I won’t force myself onto you. I promise that I’m more than happy with you as we are right now. You’re my closest friend. I’m not just hanging around for you to put out,” You explain, looking away only to order from the counter. It gives Yoongi time to think that over, and when you turn back he’s got a gummy smile on his face,

“Sorry, I just worry sometimes,” He admits sheepishly, and you snort with stifled laughter. You slap the back of his head playfully and remind him that he shouldn’t apologise for worrying.

But that thought still sits in the back of Yoongi’s mind, whispering to him. He wonders if you’d want that kind of relationship if he ever gets better, and he wonders if maybe he’d want it to. He slots the idea away in his head to talk over with his therapist next week. She’ll be happy to know that Yoongi’s able to think about it at all, since it’s a huge step forward from where he started. Obviously it’s going to take more than half a year of therapy to fix years of suppression and damage, but he can already feel a change in him. He watches you laugh and flirt with the guy making your food, and Yoongi knows it’s a change for the better.

It’s been three years since Yoongi delivered your pizza to you, but neither of you noticed the ‘anniversary’ of sorts pass by. There are more important things going on in your lives than insignificant details like that.

Yoongi’s mental health is at it’s most secure that it’s been since you met, and he even admits when he sees a guy he likes the look of with minimal probing! Even though he won’t let you be his wingman just yet, you’re so excited for how well he’s doing. He’s satisfied as well, and he’s has explained that it feels like a weight is slowly being lifted from his shoulders.

He knows he still has a long way to go now, but he’s motivated. He wants to do it.

Yoongi’s on his way to yours straight from his appointment at the hairdressers, so he can take you to basketball practice. He’d gotten rid of the mint green look just before quitting his job at the pizza place, because he didn’t want his chances at a new job to be ruined by a ‘punk look’ as he put it (even though you’ve told him countless times that a squishy boy like him couldn’t look punk if he tried). He’s a music producer now! He’s not famous or anything, but he has him name on some big tracks, and his income is quite good. Far better than the pizza delivery job, and he’s happy doing it. He genuinely loves what he’s doing. It’s not just Yoongi who’s gotten better over the last few years. You’ve found a new passion in basketball, and you started taking night classes to qualify yourself for a better job. You flew through them and took the exams early, and quit your crappy dead-end job just last week. You start your dream job on Monday!

Yoongi knocks on your door is his cutely unique way - two quick knocks, a pause, and then another. You’re way too excited to see what new colour he’s gone with. He’s tried a whole rainbow - pink, red, orange, silver, blue, purple and probably a few you’ve forgotten. You’re surprised he still has a full head of hair. After he’d settled in at the music studio, he realised how much they didn’t care about appearance. He was the only one with a natural hair colour! They’d told him he didn’t have to stick with black if he didn’t want to, and he hasn’t looked back since,

”Hmm, blonde. An expected move, but okay. It suits you,” You admit as you grab your gym bag from the hooks by your door and sling it over one shoulder, “We good to go?” You prompt when Yoongi makes no move to step out of your doorway to let you out. If you knew the reason, you wouldn’t be so quick to speak up. There’s this feeling in Yoongi’s chest and it’s throwing him off. Something scary. Something meaningful. Something… fluttery. He rolls his eyes as he steps out of your way, muttering two words that you won’t think are of any importance for a few months yet, at the very least,

“Fucking butterflies.”

#bts #bts yoongi #bts suga #bts fluff #bts angst #the necklace #confused

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oceanna1919 · 5 years

Text

Darkness {Bellamy Blake} Fanfic

Jasmine Kane, Marcus Kane's daughter was chosen to be a part of the 100. She was chosen to go to earth. Little did she know that the earth is not as perfect as she was taught all her life

" Let go off me" I said sending daggers at the king himself

He smirk and said " Make me princess"

In one second, he was send to the ground with a knife against his neck. He looked surprised and at the same time proud.

"Do not test me Blake" I murmured, our faces inches apart. He wrapped his arms around my waist pulling me even closer. Seconds later our lips were moving in sync.

%.... %...... %...... %....... %...... %..... %... %.... %..

Pilot {1X01}{part 1}

I was laying on the ground of my cell reading a book about the ground. My dad gave it to me on my 16th birthday, the day I got locked up. I stopped reading when I though about that day . It's been 1 year and 3 weeks that I have been locked up for something that was not my fault. My own father locked me up. I hate him for that. At the beginning, he came to visit me, but I ignored him. I couldn't even look at him or speak to him,so after some time, he stopped coming. Glad he did, because I was starting to loose my calm. I wanted to scream at him or punch him, but I was sure that he would float me even if I weren't 18 years old. Suddenly the door of my cell opened and I snapped my head seeing my father with 3 guards looking at me. Something wasn't right. My dad looked like he wanted to cry, the guard on his right was holding a wristband , the guard on his left was holding a syringe and the guard behind him was holding a gun. I stood on my feet quickly and took a step back, they were going to float me, but I don't understand I just turned 17 years old. My dad saw that I started to panic. He took a step forward and I took a step back. He held his hands up and told me "Relax, you're not getting floated" he smiled sadly. I decided to speak to him. "Yeah, well, what the hell is going on?" "My beautiful daughter you're going to the ground" My eyes widdened and I looked at him like he grew 2 heads, hell 5 heads not just 2. "Comme again? Hey, don't come any closer!" I yelled at the guard holding the syringe who started to come closer. My father held his arm up and grappled the guard. He comes to me and hugs me tightly. I didn't resist. I was in shock. I was going to earth. "I'm sorry, it was the only way. If you don't do this, you would be dead in 1 year. Stay alive. I don't want to loose you too like I lost your moth-" I pushed him away, glarring at him. He stopped talking and he did a sign to the guards to come to me. The guard holding the metallic bracelet came first and I tried to get past him, but the guard behind my father came and held me. I started screaming when I realised I couldn't do anything

'' Please dad do something, please! " I screamed looking at him. The guard with the syringe came beside me and injected something to my arm. All of sudden, I started to feel sleepy. I tried to fight sleep, but my eyes started to close, the last thing I heard was my father apologizing to me but it was too late.

~. ~. ~. ~. ~. ~. ~. ~. ~. ~. ~. ~. ~. ~.. ~. ~

My eyes started to open and I looked around me. I saw the other prisoners are strapped in, just like me. I didn't recognize anyone, great. I looked beside me and I saw a beautiful girl, probably my age. She looked at me and smiled. I smiled back awkwardly and she held her hand out for me to take. I took her hand and she started speaking "Hi my name's Octavia. What's yours?" I let go of her hand and before I could respond the ship jolted. Oh my..? What was that? Seconds later the video monitors around the cabin flashed to life with a pre-recorded message of chancellor Jaha. I didn't listen to the video, to stressed from the joltes of the ship. Octavia saw me and took my hand, giving it a squeeze. I really like this girl. Someone yelled "Your father's a dick Wells!" Everyone around me starts laughing, except from me. Wells was my best friend, beside Clarke. I really miss them. Wait... That means that Wells is here! I looked around me, but I didn't see him.

Then all of sudden the parachute deploys. I closed my eyes tightly, as the ship started shaking. After a few terrifying seconds the ship stopped shaking. I still hadn't opened my eyes.

"Listen. No machine hum." I opened one eye and I saw an Asian boy, beside him was a cute guy with goggles. Octavia giggled from beside me and said "Hey beautiful girl, you can open your other eye too." I opened both eyes and I playfully glared at her.

"The outer door's below" someone said as we got out off our seatbelts and went in the front.

"No! We can't just open the door!"

A familiar voice said and I gasped. Clarke is here, my best friend is here.

I saw passengers already gathering at the outer door. I saw a handsome guy who looked kind of older than all of us and I got confused. He was wearing a guard's uniform and that made him less attractive.

" The air could be toxic" Clarke continues.

"If the air's toxic. We will die anyway" the handsome guy said.

Clarke was about to say something when Octavia, who was still beside me froze as she saw the guy

"Bellamy?" So, his name is Bellamy. Beautiful name. Bellamy turned around slowly and I saw his face softened. She jumped down and rushes towards him. She hugged him tightly.

"Look how big you are!" Bellamy said looking at her with a proud smile.

"What are you doing here?" She asked him.

"Someone had to keep an eye on you" he replied.

Suddenly Clarke asked looking Bellamy and interrupting the beautiful moment.

"Where's your wristband?"

Octavia turned to glare at Clarke.

"You mind. I haven't seen my brother in three years." What brother, nobody has a brother or sister. I heard various voices talking

"Nobody has a brother" Good point

"that's Octavia Blake, the girl they found hidden in the floor" Ohh, yeah I know that story.

Octavia wasn't happy, she lunged at the person who said that, but her brother held her back.

"No Octavia, don't do that. Let's give them something else to remember you by." he said

"Like what?" she asked sarcastically

"Like being the first person on the ground in a hundred years" Bellamy said with a smile.

"I'm pretty sure is 97 years" I said before thinking. Everyone turned to look at me. I saw the older Blake look back at me and we held our eye contact. I was the first one to look away them I heard Clarke saying my name and I looked at her instead.

"Ah yeah, well in 97 years." With that he finally throws the lever.

Daylight streams in. Trees everywhere, a breeze. I gazed out in awe.

Octavia hesitates, but just for a moment. She steps out, looking around in

wide-eyed amazement. She thrusts her arms out and yells

" We're back bitches!"

Everyone started to run outside. I waited to go outside. I caught Bellamy Blake looking at me, before he follows his sister. After that I set foot on the ground and took a big breath. Real air. This is the ground. Seconds later I felt a body slamming into mine and someone hugged me tigltly. I looked and I saw Clarke. I hugged back as tight as her. "Clarke!" I yelled excited.

"I missed you so much" she said and we pulled back. "I miss you too" I smiled and we hugged again. She pulled away and took my hand.

I know her, something is wrong.

"Clarke what's going on?" I asked her confused. She turned and held out a map.

"I think that we're on the wrong mountain" I shook my head.

Suddenly a guy I didn't know come up to us.

"Why so serious princess?" he asked Clarke with a smirk, then he noticed me.

"Oh hello, name's Finn and yours gorgeous?" he asked me. I smirked at him and said. "Hello Finn, nice to meet you. I'm Jasmine Kane" Finn smiled back and turned to Clarke

"It's not like we died in a fiery explosion" he joked and Clarke looked at him before looking back at the map

" Tell that to the two boys who followed you out of their seats" Finn looked down, I guess he was sad.

"Jasmine, you see that peak over there?" The blonde asked me. She pointed in front of us and I nodded

"Yes, what about it?"

"Mount Weather. There's a radiation soaked forest between us and our next meal."

"Anddd?" Finn asked. I looked at him and said. " They really dropped us on the wrong goddamn mountain. We're screwed."

"Hey beautiful." Someone said from behind me, but I didn't turn around. This someone laughed and put their hand on my shoulder and made me turn around. I saw Octavia.

I smiled at her "Hey Octavia, what's up?" She laughed " I just realized that I don't know your name" oh she's right. I couldn't say my name, because the ship started shaking and I was scared for my life. "I'm Jasmine Kane" Octavia's smile dropped. "I'm nothing like my father " I reassured her quickly.

She smiled again and took my hand, leading me somewhere. We stopped behind a group of guys. The guys turned when they heard steps. I only knew one. Bellamy Blake and he looked at me. A guy beside him smirked at me and moved forward.

"Wow look who's here. Jasmine Hot Kane" I didn't know this guy but sure as hell didn't like him. I crossed my arms and said.

"I didn't know that I had a middle name" his smirk became bigger and he started talking when Bellamy interrupted him, not taking his eyes from me "Murphy, leave her alone. She's a princess after all" Jackass, he smirked. Before I could respond I saw Murphy walking past me and pushing Wells away. Wells! " Hey! Hands off! He's with us." I looked at the guy with goggles and he looked confused. I quickly went beside Wells. Ready to defend him.

"Well he looks confused. I don't really think that he's with you Murphy." I said trying to puss his buttons and it worked. He began to take a step at me, but Wells pushed me behind him and said. "Relax, we're just trying to figure out where we are."

"We're on the ground. That's not good enough for you?" Bellamy asked sarcastically. I start to not like this guy, even if he's cute.

"We need to find Mount Weather. You heard my father's message. That has to be our first priority" Wells said to the gathering crowd.

"Screw your father! You think your in charge? You and your little princess?" Octavia asked looking between him and Clarke

"Octavia, we don't care who's in charge. We need to find Mount Weather. Not because the Chancellor said so, but because the longer we wait, the hungrier we'll get, the harder it'll be." I said with a sigh, Clarke nodded her head and continued

"How long do you think we'll last out here without those supplies?We're looking at a 20 mile trek. If we wanna make it before dark, we need to leave... now."

"I got a better idea... You two go. Find it for us. Let the privileged do the hard work for a change." Bellamy said. That's weird, I'm privileged too. Why didn't he name me? A cheer goes up and I can say that Bellamy is surprised at first by it, but likes the feeling. Clarke regards him warily. Wells plows ahead...

" You're not listening. We all need to go."

Just then, Murphy shoved Wells in in the back.

"Look, everybody. It's the Chancellor of Earth." The crowed laughed at this . Wells stepped forward.

#Bellamy blake fanfic #Bellamy Blake imagines #Bellamy Blake imagine #The 100 #preferences #The 100 preferences #bellamy blake #fanfiction #bellamy blake fanfic

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #473

“please don’t make any sudden moves / you don’t know the half of the abuse”

Who are the 3 people you love the most? My mom, Sara, and Girt. Last person you slept in the same bed with? Sara. When is the last time you took a picture of yourself? It's been quite a long time. When was your first kiss? March of 2012. Have you recently been sick? No. Don't jinx it, especially these days. What song are you listening to? A slowed down version of "Heathens" by twenty one pilots. I REALLY like it. Do you drink soda often? Every day. :x Would you ever move somewhere like Hawaii? NOOOOOOO. I would NEVER survive living in the tropics. Have you ever had to call 911? Why? Twice for my mom. Once we thought she was having a heart attack, and the second time she had such bad abdominal pain that she was almost entirely immobilized. It was that day we found out about the cancer. Do you get out a lot? God no. Name 3 things you really like about yourself (not physical). I have a lot of empathy, I love and care a lot about animals, and I care a lot about what other people feel and always wanna make people feel better. Name 3 things you hate about yourself (not physical). My anxiety is #1, then there's how lazy I can be, and how I jump to conclusions. Would you ever consider having an abortion? If I was raped, it was ectopic (that barely even counts as one, though...), or it greatly endangered my life, yes. In which state/country were you born? North Carolina, U.S.A. Have you ever had to be put on medicine for a mental disorder? Yeah, quite a lot... I've gone through probably around three dozen different psych meds since middle school. White chocolate or milk chocolate? Milk. I can eat white chocolate in small doses, but it's generally too sweet for me. Have you ever been to an amusement park out of state? Yeah, Disney World in Florida. Would you consider yourself a crafty person? No. I'm much better at putting stuff on paper than creating stuff with my hands. What would you say is your favorite color of all time? Baby pink! Have you ever been responsible for someone’s death? Y E E S H no. Do you ever spend the night with your significant other? Not yet. We're still iffy about sleeping in the same spot though because of my sleep apnea nightmares. My new mask seems to be working great, though; I haven't had a nightmare in like a week (and keep in mind they're usually every single night), I'm just WAY too scared to lash out at him in my sleep. I need a longer period of proof it's functioning well. Do you know a lot about serial killers? No. Have the police ever been looking for you? Yes, actually. One time when my sisters, a friend, and I were at the beach, we went walking by the shore at night, after we thought we told our parents we were going. Apparently, we didn't, or they didn't hear us, because my mom was an absolute collapsing wreck and called the police to search for us. We got back to the hotel so confused, and I'll never forget how Mom was crying. Where do you get most of your accessories from? I wanna say Hot Topic? Do you cuss more than anyone else you know? Yes, actually. Have there ever been any serial killers around your hometown? Idk. Did your parents live in a different country before you were born? No. What’s something you’ve experienced that very few others have? I'd say going to a psych hospital five or six times isn't exactly common. I am so fucking glad those days are over. Do you know anyone who’s related to a current or former world leader? Not to my knowledge, no. Do you do your own taxes, or do you hire a professional? I don't have taxes. Do you have a home security system? No, but damn do I want one. What’s something you don’t think people take seriously enough? Our environmental crises, like global warming, deforestation, fossil fuels... basically just anything that involves us murdering the environment. People just don't fucking care because it's not "personal" enough, I guess. Or a fast-acting downfall. It's slow, insidious, and because of that, people think it's no biggie because it won't affect them in their lifetime and shit like that. Have you ever gotten sick from someone else’s cooking? Yes. My stomach is very, very sensitive to food it hasn't had before, especially if it's a complex recipe with lots of ingredients. What was the last kind of cheese you ate? American, on a turkey sandwich I made the other day. Have you ever abused any substance? Just Pepto Bismol. When I was in middle school, I was absolutely convinced every single day that I was going to throw up (no, I didn't actually feel sick every day; it was anxiety and just concocted in my head), so I would go to the bathroom at some point every day in school to take a pill. The habit only stopped when we ran out one day and Mom didn't get a new bottle immediately. I had to face the school day without it and, obviously, was just fine. What was the last fun thing you did? Caught up on some Tarantula Collective videos, probs. Have you ever dated someone who had a child from a previous relationship? No. Is there any drama currently going on with your family? Nah. What was the last fruit or vegetable you chopped/sliced up? An apple. When you take a nap, do you nap in bed or on the couch? In my bed. Have you ever been called a whore? No. Pretty far from one. What kind of phone do you have? It's a Tracfone. I'm ready to get a new, better one. Do you like hot chocolate? Love itttt. Do you know anyone with an STD? Yes. Are you afraid of deep water? Not as much as most people, it seems. Do you get dizzy easily? I naturally have alarmingly low blood pressure, only made worse by medication, so trust me, I sure as hell do. Have you ever been thrown up on? LKAJSDLKFJAKLWJEKLWJERLK NO Have you ever thrown up on someone? Maybe as a baby? How many times have you thrown up from being so drunk? Zero. Does the sound of fireworks scare you? No, not if I know it's coming. Otherwise I'll probably jump a bit, fearing it being a gunshot. What’s your favorite firework? I don't know how to identify fireworks, ha ha. But generally just the really big, colorful ones. Have you ever been beat up? No. Have you ever seen a jellyfish? Only in aquariums. Do you cry when you get angry? Yes. I cry to cope with a ton of emotions. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again? Plan on it. What do you think people really think about you? That I'm an awkward, reclusive, leeching lowlife without goals I'll actually chase. God, that's painful to think about, what people see from the outside. What’s your favorite part about Thanksgiving? Nothing. I don't like Thanksgiving. I have to spend it every single year with horribly conservative, bigoted fucks. I hate Thanksgiving food, too. How many best friends do you have? One. What kind of car is your favorite? I don't know. Sleek, elegant ones. Do you prefer pens or pencils? Pencils. When did you go to sleep last night? Not 'til like... around 4 in the morning. Do you know anyone who’s had a stillbirth? I'm sure I do. I know MANY people who have had miscarriages. Are there any redheads in your family? I don't believe so, no. Which YouTuber do you feel like you relate to the most? Ummm maybe Morgan Adams, except I'm not funny lmao. What theme do you want for your wedding? Gothic. What theme would you choose for a baby’s nursery? Purely hypothetically, I'd probably choose pastel colors and baby animals for a daughter, and then little cute dinosaurs for a boy. Does your first crush know that he/she was your first crush? No. Do you know your first crush’s middle name? No. Who do you wish you could go on another date with? I'm happy only going on dates with my current boyfriend. Which family member did you get your height from? My mom. We're pretty much the same. Do you feel stupid regularly? ALWAYS. What style of wedding dress do you want? Most likely a ball gown one with a sweetheart top. Definitely subject to change, though; I honestly just love wedding dresses and would want to actually see how I look in varying styles, except mermaid. Mermaid gowns look AWFUL on 99% of people imo. Who was the last friend of yours to have a baby, and what’s the baby’s name? My high school band friend Marcus, his wife had their first baby just the other day. I'm blanking on her name right now. Who is the cutest baby you’ve seen on social media recently? Bindi Irwin's daughter Grace is like illegally cute. What is your opinion on Arby’s? I hate that shit. What is your favorite doughnut? Just an original glazed from Krispy Kreme fuckin does it for me man. But I just love donuts in general. Do you have a hot tub? If so, where is it located? We poor, hunny. What is your favorite party game? I don't really have one, given I don't exactly go to parties. Do you or your parents rake your yard? It doesn't need to be raked. My dad used to occasionally when my parents were still together. Have you won anything recently? No. How often do you make Excel tables? What for? Never. What was the last baby animal you saw in the wild? Umm I want to say I saw a young squirrel dash out of the road semi-recently? Do you like drag queens? If so, got any favourites? Drag queens are, well, fucking queens. I love them. Trixie Mattel is high on the list. How about drag kings? You know... somehow it never struck me that this term existed???? I'm dumb. But anyway, I think it's still awesome. I don't know any (I think?) though. Would it bother you, if your partner had cut contact with their parents? If he had good reason to, it wouldn't bother me. His father is no longer living, but I could not even imagine him cutting contact with his mother since he helps the woman so much and cares a shitload for her. As someone who relates to what I know of her and what she's gone through, I'd definitely be concerned if he cut ties with her. It'd almost feel like an insult to me, too, if that makes sense? Like I'd be scared I was next. Have you ever wondered whether you were adopted? As a kid, yes. I sometimes thought my mom didn't love me as much as my sisters, so I had an episode where I wondered. Have you ever grown a berry bush? No.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''heathens'' by twenty one pilots

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starrkidmalfoy · 7 years

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Pigtails

Draco Imagine for @suuny96

Hey!!!! Can I request an imagine where the reader is a muggle born and she tries and keeps things to herself? She has a crush on Draco but she hasn't told anyone. Draco knows she is muggle born and he always makes fun of her for it. Out of the blue, the reader has just found out that her parents are getting a divorce and she hides it from her friends. Draco knows something is up with the reader because she's acting different. One day in class, he says something awful about her parents and the reader just had it. She tells him off and then runs out of class. Draco finds her outside crying. He feels bad for what he said after he saw her crying so he apologizes for it. The reader opens up to him about everything going on in her home life and he listens to her and comforts her. After she tells him everything, Draco admits that he has feelings for her and she feels the same.

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“Maybe you can’t cast the spell cause you’re not a real wizard.”

You could hear the sly smirk that was plastered on his face as he said those words into your ear before walking out of the classroom. Draco said things like this all the time. He would always be the first one to point out when you didn’t learn a spell as quickly as everyone else or if a potion didn’t brew properly for you.

“Oh shut it, Malfoy!”

This was always your comeback. You learned that nothing would really truly ever shut Draco up and he never listened to your comebacks anyway, so you decided it was better not to waste the energy to try and think of anything better. You threw your books and parchment into your bag before tossing the sack onto your shoulder. You walked toward the door of the classroom and waited, annoyed, while your two friends took their time packing up their things and meeting to walk with you out of class.

"It's okay, (Y/N)! It's a really hard spell to get. You can't get down on yourself so easily."

You knew Hannah was just trying to cheer you up and make you feel better, however, she had mastered the spell perfectly on her first try so it was extremely hard for you to listen to her advice. You shrugged a little and let your head hang down as you stared at the floor while you walked.

You didn't say a word the entire walk down to the great hall but instead listened to the conversation your friends were having.

"I can't believe you think Marcus is cute!"

You could almost hear the disgust in Maggie's voice. Maggie was Marcus' little sister and one of your only Slytherin friends.

"I just said he was handsome is all," Hannah finished with a smile as a pink blush crawled up her cheeks and onto her face. She looked like a sunset, with her red hair, pink cheeks, and yellow Hufflepuff tie. You let yourself chuckle a little as you listened to them debate about whether a good friend would date their friend's brother or not. You couldn't really get mad at Hannah because those Slytherin boys were very cute. You admitted to yourself a while back that you had a tiny crush on Draco Malfoy, but decided to keep it from your friends since it wouldn't make sense to like someone that very clearly didn't like you back. They finally decided to leave the debate and come back to it after they had both eaten and had some time to think. You walked into the great hall and the three of you split off in different directions to go to your house tables. 15 minutes into the meal, owls started to slowly trickle in and drop off parcels and packages for the evening mail service. Normally you got a letter from your parents about once a week and you had already gotten one for this week. You didn’t expect to see your family’s barn owl sweeping into the hall. When she landed in front of you and dropped a small gray envelope in your lap you were most definitely surprised. You stroked your owl lovingly for a few seconds to thank her for making the extra trip this week before letting her fly back to get her own dinner. Your parents hated sending owls since they weren’t sure exactly how it worked and it was strange having an owl fly in and out of Muggle neighborhood, so you knew this letter must’ve been important. You picked up the letter and turned it over in your hands. Your plucked open the wax seal and pulled out the sheet of paper carefully tucked away inside.

“(Y/N),

We hope your time at school is going splendidly and we have been holding back telling you this news in fear that it might disrupt and distract you from learning and doing your best in classes, however, we feel it’s only fair to tell you now so when the holidays come around you aren’t surprised. Your mother and I feel it’s best that we go our separate ways. We want you to know that this is in no way your fault and there is nothing you have done/could do to cause this. Your mother and I both love you with our whole hearts and we think it’s best for you and for us to be your parents away from each other. We love you so very much! All we ask of you is that you keep working hard in school and get good grades! We believe in you and I can’t wait to see you when you come home for the holidays. Do good things, sweetheart!

Love, Dad”

Your hands started shaking as soon as you saw the words “separate ways”. What was that supposed to mean? Your parents always seemed so happy together. They were always laughing and enjoying each other's company. What went so wrong that they had to get a divorce. A million thoughts were running through your mind that you didn’t even realize tears had started to well up and drip from your eyes. The tears hit the page and the words started to ooze out ink like blood from a broken heart. Before anyone could see tears tracking down your face, you pushed away your plate, grabbed your bag and dashed out of the dining hall. You ran to Gryffindor tower as fast as you could, jumping from one staircase to another as they began to move. All you wanted to do was burn this letter and pretend everything was fine. You didn't want to think about coming home to just mom's house or just dad's house. You didn't want to think about how everything was never going to be the same. You wouldn't have one of anything anymore. You would have two Christmases and two homes and two rooms and two completely separate parents. You threw down your book bag as soon as you got to your room. You heard the crushing sound of glass and you knew a couple of ink jars had been shattered under the force of the landing. You flopped down onto the floor and quickly pulled out all your books and parchment before they could get too ruined by the flood of ink now soaking into the material of your bag. You cried even harder and sat in a sea of tears and ink on the floor. After about 30 minutes you were out of tears. Your head was pounding and your eyes were throbbing as the room started to heat up. The world felt silent and you had never felt more alone. Eventually, you picked up your wand and pulled the crumpled letter from your dad out of your pocket, "Incendio," you muttered out watching the note catch fire and then burn into ashes that landed on the stone floor.

You only had one lesson on Fridays and you debated going or just laying in bed and crying some more. But you remembered that the only thing your parents asked of you was to keep up your grades, so of course, you went. The class was only supposed to last an hour and you knew if you just focused and pushed through, you would be back in your bed in no time. You took your seat next to Draco and kept your head down, hoping that today he would lay off the insults. No such luck. As soon as you hit the seat, his head whipped around to face you and you could practically feel the air around you tense up as he leaned forward to get close to your ear.

“Sometimes I wonder if you're really a muggle and your parents just send you here cause they hate having you at home.”

Something inside your chest twinged and broke. You felt hot, searing tears come into your eyes again. This was the last straw. Malfoy was done making fun of you and bringing you down.

“For Merlin’s sake, Malfoy!” you shouted as you sprung up from your seat and turned on him, making him your prey, “Just shut-up! No one cares what you think. Just because you hate your father and your father clearly doesn’t want you, doesn’t mean you have to go around making everyone else’s lives miserable!”

Draco’s face became pale as his eyes widened and his jaw dropped in shock of your sudden outburst.

"I'm sick and tired of listening to you insult me every day so piss off, will ya?"

Before waiting for his reply, you grabbed your book bag off the floor and rushed out of the classroom. You were only able to take four or five steps down the hall before your knees became weak and you fell to the floor. You pushed yourself up against the stone wall and brought your knees up to your chest and hugged them. You buried your head in between your legs and allowed broken gasps of air to be brought into your lungs. After a few minutes, your breaths became more controlled and even though your face felt warm and your head was throbbing, you felt a little better. Suddenly, you heard slow, soft footsteps from the classroom door walking towards you. You didn't look up, you really didn't want to talk to anyone right now and you were hoping whichever friend that came to check on you would realize that. Apparently, they didn't because you felt the brush of robes on the right side of your body as whoever it was slid down the wall to sit next to you. You sat in silence with this person for what felt like hours but was only about 10 minutes, before words were finally spoken. You heard the person clear their throat lightly and then a gentle "I'm sorry." You slowly lifted your head from its resting spot as the voice of, what sounded like, Draco Malfoy entered your ears. But it couldn't be Draco. He would never apologize and his voice has never sounded this sweet and sincere before. You slowly looked over and sure enough, the pale, lanky boy was sitting beside you staring at his hands in his lap. His cheeks were slightly flushed and you could tell there was a sad sort of look on his face that was different than the look that was normally there. You sniffled up your last bit of tears before letting your legs relax and stick out in front of you.

"What?"

You weren't sure if you had actually heard him say it, or if you imagined it.

"I said...I'm sorry," his voice got even quieter as he looked up into your eyes.

"I'm sorry for what I said as well. I was upset and didn't control myself," you croaked out, your throat was dry and rough from crying.

"You had every right to say the things you did," he told you in a small voice.

"No, I really didn't," you leaned your head back on the wall and shut your eyes tight. You began to spill your guts out to Draco about your parents and your life without even realizing who you were actually spilling your guts with. After you were done telling him everything that had happened, you open your eyes and looked over at him. You could tell he felt bad for saying all the things he had said to you.

"I just don't know why you always pick on me," you said truthfully, hoping he could offer you some sort of explanation.

"I just really like you," he said boldly, turning his whole body to face yours and taking your hand in his, "and it's not common for a Slytherin to like a Gryffindor and I didn't know how to act around you anymore. I didn't know how to get closer to you without other people wondering. I didn't know how to get you to notice me."

Your eyes met his as you squeezed his hand a bit tighter.

"Well, you definitely got me to notice you."

He let out a chuckle before replying.

"I was stupid. I guess...well... I don't really know what I was thinking. Ya know how boys will pull on a girl's pigtails if he likes her?" suddenly his eyes were focused on his twiddling thumbs again as the blush on his face grew ever darker, "well I guess that was me trying to pull on your pigtails..." he let the last part of the sentence drop off as his face was now beet red. His eyes flickered over to you to see your reaction only to find you the same shade of red as him, "but you probably just hate me now, I would."

It was your turn to let out a small giggle.

"I don't hate you, Draco. I like you too. I thought it was wrong because you always made fun of me, but I guess I could tell it was your way of pulling on my pigtails."

You both let out a laugh at that point as you rested your head on his shoulder. His fingers slid perfectly in between yours and he gave you hand a small squeeze. You sat there in a comfortable silence as the breeze floated down the halls bringing in the sweet smell of grass from outside. You felt Draco take in a deep breath before exhaling.

"Now what?"

He turned his head to look at you while he waited for his reply.

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It was super hard to try and fit all of what you wanted into an imagine, but I’m pretty sure I got it! This was a super cute request and I hope that I did it a little bit of justice. If you want a part two then let me know! :)

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Xx all writing is the original work of L.D.A and if used all credit should be given to the author xX

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Hope you enjoy this. Love you all x

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ahoytumbleweed · 7 years

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50 Questions Revisited:

April 2015:

“50 questions 1: What would you name your future daughter? - Opal

2: Do you miss anyone? - Ben Cook, duh…

3: What if I told you that you were pretty? - I’d smile and say “thank you!”

4: Ever been told “it’s not you, it’s me”? - no

5: What are you looking forward to in the next week? - My high school’s production of Sweeney Todd sitzprobe.

6: Did you go out or stay in last night? - stayed in

7: How late did you stay up last night? - until 10:30pm

8: Honestly, has anyone seen you in your underwear in the past 3 months? - Yes, my roommate…

9: What were you doing at 12:30 this afternoon? - I was trying to figure out how to do the spoons tap dance from the Newsies On Tour version of “Shut Up and Dance”

10: Have you ever told somebody you loved them and not actually meant it? - no, not romantically, I do love my parents, though.

11: Could you go for the rest of your life without drinking alcohol? - yes

12: Have you pretended to like someone? - yes

13: Could you go the rest of your life without smoking a cigarette? - yes

14: Is there one person in your life that can always make you smile? - not yet

15: Is it hard for you to get over someone? - a little bit

16: Think back five months ago, were you single? - never been in a relationship, so yes

17: Have you ever cried from being so mad? - yes

18: Hold hands with anyone this week? - yes, I squeezed my friends hand for all of act one of Newsies 2 days ago.

19: Did your last kiss take place in/on a bed? - no, it was also unwelcome.

20: Who did you last see in person? - My friend Christie…

21: What is the last thing you said out lot? - “I could shove and icepick in my eye, I could eat some fish from last July, but it wouldn’t be as awful as my summer in Ohio”

22: Have you kissed three or more people in one night? - no

23: Have you ever been to Paris? - yes

24: Are you good at hiding your feelings? - yes

25: Do you use chap stick? - I do

26: Who did you last share a bed with? - my sister

27: Are you listening to music right now? - yes, spring awakening!!!

28: What is something you currently want right now? - to meet Ben Cook again

29: Were your last three kisses from the same person? - I haven’t had 3 kisses!

30: How is your heart lately? - waiting for Ben…

31: Do you wear the hood on your hoodie? - depends on how windy it is.

32: When was the last time a member of the opposite sex hugged you? - a couple hours ago.

33: What do people call you? - Elena, today someone called me the future of my school’s theatre program!

34: Have you ever wanted to tell someone something but didn’t? - yes

35: Are there any stressful situations in your life? - Sort of…

36: What are you listening to right now? - Spring Awakening

37: What is wrong with you right now? - I don’t have makeup on

38: Love really is a beautiful thing huh? - I guess?

39: Do you make wishes at 11:11? - no, I make wishes at 7:11

40: What is on your wrists right now? My watch, 5 hair ties, a rubber bracelet and a silver bracelet.

41: Are you single/taken/heartbroken/confused/waiting for the unexpected? - Single and waiting for Benjamin Tyler Cook

42: Where did you get the shirt/sweatshirt you’re wearing? - Billy Elliot, London

43: Have you ever regretted kissing someone? - yes

44: Have you hugged someone within the last week? - yes

45: Have you kissed anyone in the last five days? - no

46: What were you doing at midnight last night? - sleeping

47: Do you miss the way things were ten months ago? - no

48: Would you rather sleep with someone else or alone? - with Ben by my side

49: Have you ever been to New York? - I have

50: Think of the last person who said I love you, do you think they meant it?” - yes, I think my parents love me…

August 2017:

“50 questions 1: What would you name your future daughter? - Opal

2: Do you miss anyone? - My dad, my mom, my friends from Webb and Barnard, still Ben... lol

3: What if I told you that you were pretty? - Aw shucksssss

4: Ever been told “it’s not you, it’s me”? - nope. I’ve never dated anyone...

5: What are you looking forward to in the next week? - BACK TO SCHOOL!!! I get to see all my friends!!

6: Did you go out or stay in last night? - I watched big brother. More lit than going out wouldve been. Bye Jessica!!! #BB19

7: How late did you stay up last night? - until 10pm. I’m still jetlagged and that was hard. But BB was important.

8: Honestly, has anyone seen you in your underwear in the past 3 months? - Lol. Yeah. Sarah, my superdope roommate of 3 years

9: What were you doing at 12:30 this afternoon? - I was at the mall

10: Have you ever told somebody you loved them and not actually meant it? - still not romantically... i dont think ive said love to someone I didnt...

11: Could you go for the rest of your life without drinking alcohol? - yesish. I love me a good Radler

12: Have you pretended to like someone? - yes

13: Could you go the rest of your life without smoking a cigarette? - yes and I will

14: Is there one person in your life that can always make you smile? - Lol. Yeah. Shyam & Sarah & Lindsey

15: Is it hard for you to get over someone? - nope. im good at it.

16: Think back five months ago, were you single? - never been in a relationship, so yes . still true

17: Have you ever cried from being so mad? - yes

18: Hold hands with anyone this week? - nope :(

19: Did your last kiss take place in/on a bed? - nope. it was oncstage.

20: Who did you last see in person? - Nana K.

21: What is the last thing you said out lot? - For sure.

22: Have you kissed three or more people in one night? - nopeity nope

23: Have you ever been to Paris? - yes

24: Are you good at hiding your feelings? - yes

25: Do you use chap stick? - ALL THE TIME

26: Who did you last share a bed with? - My dad

27: Are you listening to music right now? - Nopeeee

28: What is something you currently want right now? - Tom Holland.

29: Were your last three kisses from the same person? - Nope...

30: How is your heart lately? - Decent. Feeling a little undateable but that isnt new.

31: Do you wear the hood on your hoodie? - I dont wear hoodies.

32: When was the last time a member of the opposite sex hugged you? - 3 days ago. thanks dad

33: What do people call you? - Elena, today someone called me the future of my school’s theatre program! <- wish i remember who... lol. it was marcus. People call me Kevin too.

34: Have you ever wanted to tell someone something but didn’t? - yes

35: Are there any stressful situations in your life? - COLLEGE APPS

36: What are you listening to right now? - Nana is watching the Princess Diana documentary

37: What is wrong with you right now? - I’m not dating Tom

38: Love really is a beautiful thing huh? - whatisthat

39: Do you make wishes at 11:11? - no, I make wishes at 7:11 (still true)

40: What is on your wrists right now? Old fitbit charg hr, 2 friendship bracelets, wristband from the Guggenheim

41: Are you single/taken/heartbroken/confused/waiting for the unexpected? - Single and waiting for Benjamin Tyler Cook and or Tom Holland

42: Where did you get the shirt/sweatshirt you’re wearing? - Abercrombie...

43: Have you ever regretted kissing someone? - yes

44: Have you hugged someone within the last week? - yes

45: Have you kissed anyone in the last five days? -

46: What were you doing at midnight last night? - sleeping

47: Do you miss the way things were ten months ago? - maybe a little

48: Would you rather sleep with someone else or alone? - depends on who... I want a cute boy.

49: Have you ever been to New York? - I have. It is my favorite place

50: Think of the last person who said I love you, do you think they meant it?” - yep. My mom loves me.

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julietcapulct · 7 years

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breathe, my love, get high hp au, marcus flint/oliver wood 8131 words Marcus counts the days in the hours he can manage to get through, the hours he can spend avoiding floppy-haired, Scottish Gryffindors who try to follow him with their eyes. He doesn’t want to talk about something that will only leave them both burning and rotting in the end. Something that can never be kept safe. A flame that will only die out in the cold. He spends his nights in bed, whispering the name over and over to himself, the name he has kept hidden in his heart for so long and wants to etch all over his skin–– Oliver. Oliver. Oliver.

notes: this may or may not be the most self-indulgent fic you will ever read in your life, and it’s probably completely ooc and unbelievable and wow i’m not selling this to anyone but yay for flintwood??? yes??? this is dedicated to yenna @owvlery, erin @mxrcusflint and everyone else who makes the beautiful flintwood art/fics/everything that has dragged me into this 6ft hole of cute angsty quidditch boyfriends. (also i stole a line from lolita and managed to reference little mix’s ‘touch’ so u never know what ur going to get with me)(also sufjan stevens was my soundtrack writing this enjoy)

If he were pushed, Marcus could tell himself that it was simply a pride thing.

Because of course, there was an element of it there, quivering in every shove of shoulder against sharp elbow, in the snarls and hisses thrown at one another. From the moment he had looked across the Quidditch pitch, seeing a flash of red and gold as their sprite little second year Keeper blocked the Quaffle again and again and again, his accent clouding over his words as the boy couldn’t help but yell and holler at his teammates with each success, his voice carrying out like a signal, Marcus had felt a rush of something in his veins, and before he knew it his broom was propelling him closer and closer, the Quaffle barely touching his fingertips before he was shoving it towards the hoops, his gaze almost blinded by the boy’s answering grin. A dare, almost. A dance.

He’s thirteen years old and his blood is thrumming in that way that only Quidditch can do to him, and his head is swimming with theories and fleeting thoughts, his legs gripped tightly either side of his broom and God, this is the only thing he knows how to do, only thing that makes him feel real−−

And then two minutes in, the new Gryffindor Keeper gets his head knocked in by a Bludger and the whole thing is called off.

The rest of the team moan and whine as they make their way to the changing rooms, their boots trampling in the mud of the October leaves, red and dirty yellow bleeding into one another and reminding him far too much of the Gryffindor colours.

Wood, someone had called him. The kid who got knocked out, only a year younger than him.

“Guess for someone called Wood, his broom didn’t help him stay off the ground much, did it?” He mutters, his words low and tumbling out with the air of someone of less eloquence; he’s never been witty, never had a way with words, but he tries. His teammates chuckle heartily at the joke, as it stands.

The next time he sees the Wood boy, it’s more than a week later and Marcus raises an eyebrow at the spectacle that seems to be going on at the Gryffindor table, the kid surrounded by his teammates and friends, his robes adorned with pins and medals as if he were a hero of sorts. Ridiculous.

He tries to forget about the fact that his feet scrape on the floor as he makes his way over to the table, seeing each face turn to his, their expressions of laughter and joy quickly souring into something filled with disgust and shock. Only Wood, seated in the middle of his ragtag group, seems to puff out his chest and look up at him with wide eyes, trying to appear confident and bold. Marcus resists the urge to roll his eyes.

He could just walk away, leave them scratching their heads, wondering. But if Wood is a cliché of sorts, so is he.

“Pity you didn’t manage to see more than a minute of the game before you bowed out, Wood,” he says, his words accentuated by his crossed arms and smirk. He plays his part well, as ever. “Although it gives whoever replaces you a nice low standard to beat for the next one, I suppose.”

Wood’s eyes narrow and his nostrils flare in indignation, and he immediately stands up, a couple of Gryffindors coming with him. Even at his full height, Marcus still has a good few inches on him, and it just makes it easier for him to look down with a twisted smile, watching the boy rage internally. One of the girls, her hair in a long braid as she clings to his arm, juts out her chin and replies, “We’re not replacing Oliver, for your information, and we won’t be anytime soon. So you can run and tell your snakes that.”

Whistling low, Marcus doesn’t miss a beat. “Perhaps some food for thought, though, yeah?”

He’s about to walk away with a chuckle, having had his fun and wanting to head to Potions so he can tell Avery about the easy way the Gryffindors can get riled up just by insulting their newly-crowned ‘Golden Boy,’ when the boy in question calls out to him, his voice certain and sure despite the cracks in it.

“I’ll see you on the field, Flint.”

He doesn’t reply, simply keeps on walking out of the Great Hall.

If his fingers clench and unclench several times against his robes on the way to class, knuckles white and calloused, he doesn’t let himself feel it.

And so a dance of sorts begins between them, both participants riling up to the challenge. Each time they see one another, whether it be behind their respective captains on the pitch before a game, or across a staircase, they end up running toe to toe, insults flying from their mouths so fast Marcus barely thinks about what he’s saying. All he focuses on is making Wood’s lip curl in distaste, to see him spluttering as he tries to sling a comeback in return, lost for words.

There’s a certain sort of addictive quality to leaving Oliver Wood speechless.

He figures it’s innocent enough in the beginning; quips about him being so much younger than him (a full year means a lot to Marcus, okay?) and not as experienced, and perhaps that was why he missed that Quaffle again and again in the last game? Or he takes another direction, and tells Wood he’s possibly taken one too many Bludgers to the head when he stumbles to get off his broom after one match. Sometimes the younger boy only glares at him in return, being pushed along by his teammates, but before long he’s striding towards him to shout comebacks in return, and the game plays on.

“Maybe you should worry about your own team, Flint. Your seeker flies like a newborn deer trying to walk.”

Marcus snickers, showing his teeth as he does. He hopes it terrifies. “Better than your Beaters, I’d say. They couldn’t tell a Bludger from a Bertie Botts Bean. Wouldn’t be surprised if they tried to eat one.”

“Well, unlike you, Flint, they don’t have any troll blood in their family, to do something so idiotic.”

For a moment, he’s left seeing red in the corners of the eyes, and he doesn’t have much of a response other than to snarl back at Wood, who’s still breathing heavily and holding his broom by his side, eyebrows raised as he awaits a response.

And it’s not that he’s insulted, because God, being a Slytherin means having a thick skin and letting everything roll off of your back, and it’s not like he’s fucking insecure. He’s not a Malfoy, prissy and obsessed with appearances and slicked back blonde hair. He’s always been something more in line with rough edges and scabbed lips and dark hair with tugs through it, never really being brushed. Yet, there’s something stinging under his skin that he can’t place.

Before he can bite back something quick and snarky, Charlie Weasley, tall and lanky and redheaded with that stupid grin on his face, sidles up beside them and throws his arm around Wood.

“Wow, Ol, guess you managed to get one over on Flint, here,” a pause, and then with a smirk, “Left him speechless!”

Wood laughs in return, looking away for a moment to meet Weasley’s eyes in a gaze filled with admiration and awe, and Marcus would vomit right there if he felt the need to waste any acid reflux on Gryffindors.

The redhead isn’t finished yet, though. “Tell me, how does it feel to be beaten by a second year?”

Weasley’s leaning over him with a glint in his eyes, like he knows something he shouldn’t, and Wood doesn’t seem to catch it. He’s too busy frowning back at Marcus, his gaze troubled. As if he didn’t want Weasley to say that. That infuriates him even more, because of course Oliver Wood would regret the one time he actually had the guts to not hold back like every other Gyffindor obsessed with being the ‘better’ person.

He doesn’t need the pity, and he certainly doesn’t need Wood to look at him like he wants to say something else.

And so Marcus doesn’t offer him a reply, only moving forward to push his shoulder against Wood’s in a threatening stance, muttering, “You’re mine on that pitch, Wood,” into his ear as he moves past.

(He can still feel the boy’s breath on his skin hours later.)

For a year or two, things are a mundane routine of classes and Hogsmeade and friends and Quidditch and Oliver Wood, all piled into one, rotating and meshing together, smashing into one another faster than a Snitch at high speed to form the fabric of his everyday life.

He seems to see this kid wherever he goes, whether it’s on the way to class, capturing his gaze in a steadfast glare that’s returned in kind, or as he makes his way out of the castle with his classmates, eyes catching sight of tawny-brown hair leading his group to the pitch for more practising. Even as the youngest member of the Gryffindor team, Wood seems to have already decided he’s going to lead, even when he can’t reach the shoulders of his teammates; it’s no surprise when he makes Captain in his fourth year, Marcus thinks, before killing that thought immediately. And there’s his voice too, which seems to find him from wherever Marcus tries to flee, his accent soaking into his mind. He mimics it easily, soon becoming a running joke in the Slytherin Common Room when he wants cheap laughs, but it’s only because he’s heard it enough times to have committed the way he pronounces each syllable, the letters he drags on and the ones he skips over skittishly, the way he speaks a million miles per minute when it’s anything to do with Quidditch.

It’s important to know your enemy, though, and that is why Marcus commits everything about Oliver Wood to memory.

The mishmash of his days, of classes he sleeps through and assignments he leaves until the last minute because he hates the frustration of looking at an empty piece of parchment and not knowing a thing to put on it, to the roar of the crowd as he shoots Quaffle after Quaffle into the hoops all while feeling his eyes fixated on him from the stands, feeling the warmth of their chants wash over him when Slytherin win.

(The relief that comes from knowing, I still have this. I can do this. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay.)

And if he’s suddenly hurtling towards OWLs he hasn’t studied for in fifth year because he’s noted that Wood has grown more than should be allowed in two years – still not as tall as Marcus, but enough that their gazes can find one another easily over crowds of kids – and if he once finds himself nearly missing a catch from Pursilla because the sun had hit Wood’s skin at just the right moment as his eyes lit up over a goal, and holy Merlin he’s not breathing right now, but it’s not—he can’t even choke the words out of the recesses of his mind, instead waving a hand to silence the blonde as she yells at him, not letting himself even look at Wood when he throws the Quaffle in the direction of his face, which has managed to chisel out slightly over the summer.

It’s not until he scores, ten minutes later, that he lets himself stop gripping his broom so tightly.

He thought he was safe—okay, he had a close call earlier, but he could blame it on the sunlight. He could mutter away about bad positioning and they probably got Trelawney or some shit to help pick a day for them, so they could pull this, any stupid excuse he can spurt out to keep the rest of them moving, ignoring their raised eyebrows. He doesn’t need this.

Marcus is alone in the changing room, picking at the laces of his boots (sometimes he just enjoys the feeling of the dirt on his skin and the roughness of the clothes against his skin, and he feels a little more grounded, and that’s not weird, okay) when he hears footsteps, stomping, really, and looks up to see a flushed and panting Oliver Wood before him.

He would’ve thought he’d have dreamed him there, if he were the type for sappy shit.

“You’re not allowed in here, Wood,” he drawls, and it comes out more monotonous than he thought, which pleases him. No need to let him know his heavy breathing was making Marcus think of dangerous things.

“I don’t care.”

“I think you will when I call Snape and tell him you’ve snuck in here to try and attack me.”

“Wh—” Wood’s face scrunches up in confusion, before his eyes narrow, still catching his breath. Marcus notes he probably ran straight over here, the idiot. “Shut up, Flint. I’m not here to fight, as tempting as that is.”

Marcus can’t help himself, his fingers dig in a little on his leg, and he can feel his nails through the Quidditch robes. Wood seems to notice, too, his eyes flickering down to his calf for a minute, and he could swear the boy’s face reddens a tinge.

“I, erm, I had to ask you something.” It takes a full minute for him to look up again, and when he does, Wood is standing with his hand scratching the back of his head, his eyes unreadable. Oliver Wood, who is the most predictable and readable person Marcus knows, is standing with an almost frightened gaze at him and it makes him want to shiver.

He takes a deep breath. Play the part, Marcus. “I haven’t got all day,” he replies, and he’s barely finishing the sentence when the boy is speaking again in rushed words—

“Why were you staring at me during the game?”

Fuck.

“No, I wasn’t,” he immediately throws back, and it’s stupid and ridiculous because he was, of course he was, he nearly missed a goal because of it, and he can’t lie right to Wood’s face about it. Not when he looks at him in that open, vulnerable way that twists Marcus up inside in ways he didn’t know was possible.

“Yes, you…you did. I felt you staring.”

They’re staring at one another in that very moment, too, eyes heavy on one another and Marcus knows he should look away, should roll his eyes and murmur, Are you gay now, then, Wood? Fancy me, do you? and walk away. Leave it as a gloating remark and pretend it was nothing. Let him pretend he was just trying to freak him out so they could win. Go on with his life and let himself lock this feeling away, left to rot as memories of this boy and his smile and the curve of his neck haunt him.

And then the moment passes, and he’s snarling out, “I don’t know what you thought you felt, you idiot, but I don’t want it. Leave me alone.”

He’s breathing heavily, and it takes a moment to register that he’s on his feet and a few short steps away from Wood now, and he can see the gold flecks in his eyes now, see the way his pale skin patches in pink where he’s blushed, from the center of his cheeks to around the side of his neck stretching down to his collarbone and Marcus is consumed with the need to just touch, just for a minute.

The patch of skin he’s fixated on gets closer, and his eyes flicker up to see Wood has made the step towards him, his own gaze moving from Marcus’s mouth to his eyes to his hairline, oddly enough, a certain kind of worn yet fond kindness tainting his smile; he’s being so soft, even without touching him, and it makes Marcus want to scream.

“This is okay, you know. This…whatever this is between us.” Wood’s words are barely over a whisper, but he hears. He would hear it from an ocean away. “This isn’t wrong, Marcus.”

It’s him saying his name, his real name, that has him marching out of the door still in his Quidditch robes, leaving one half of his heart behind with flushed cheeks and soft gazes.

After that, it becomes so much easier to pretend. If he were a different type of person, Marcus ponders one night when he’s had too many smuggled Firewhiskeys in the dungeons and he’s lying alone with his thoughts, he could’ve been an actor. When he has a role – his in question being that of the antagonist, the evil Slytherin who makes children quiver with intimidation when he walks down hallways, the perfect foil to the floppy-haired, charming Gryffindor hero – he can stick to it well enough that there’s no room for anything else.

Wood, on the other hand, seems to want to turn the tables. He doesn’t understand the rules of the game, it seems.

Although fair play to him, Marcus later thinks, he did try. After their moment in the changing rooms, Wood seemed to have committed himself to hating everything about Slytherin, particularly anything to do with him. He doesn’t even call him Flint now, simply glaring at him when they spar verbally on the pitch or through hallways. During games, they play faster and more aggressive now than ever, almost as if they were in their own duel, the others melting away by the sidelines.

He’s complimented for it by his Captain, after one particularly trying game where he managed to help Hyun score not one or two, but three goals in a row by having Wood focus all his attention on him, their eyes never wavering from one another as he fouled again and again. He’s told he ‘has the potential to take Captain’ once Lucinda leaves, and he only grunts in response while his heart hums in something close to contentment.

When it does happen, he throws himself fully into the role, relishing his moment in the sunshine. He’s never particularly been singled out for anything like this before, and not that he would ever admit it to anyone, but there is something calming about the hole Quidditch is starting to fill inside him, the hole that’s been there for as long as he can remember, that being on a broom and orbiting around Oliver Wood seems to soothe and leave trembling as it collapses.

While his game strategies become more efficient and he makes more and more goals, swerving through players without a care for grace and roughly shoving Quaffles at Wood’s face (ignoring the poorly-concealed grin the boy hits him with when he manages to hit him in the nose during one move, his mind whirring between Merlin he’s bad at acting and why the fuck is he grinning at me hitting him like he likes it?) his work in class begins to suffer more and more, not that he cares.

Nothing seems to really matter in the end, when it comes down to it.

Honestly, he’s not even surprised when he doesn’t pass N.E.W.T.s, considering he barely made it to class all year and can’t find much beyond his games to focus on. That still doesn’t seem to stop that ever-sinking feeling in his stomach, of knowing this is all he will be; of knowing he is nothing that can be salvaged or saved or to be acclaimed. In the end, he’ll be but one of a sea of faces who have walked these halls, who have spoken the same words he has and believed they could conquer the world in a sea of glory before hitting the fall.

And so he buries it all, miles and miles below the ground where nobody can find his pain, and he walks onto the Hogwarts Express with his head held high and his wand twitching in his palm, ready to be used on any kid who thinks they can bring him down for this.

He could tear Wood apart when he catches sight of him, because this is not what he needs.

(It’s enough to have to walk through the entire school, them knowing he’s still here, but Wood? There’s shame and fury and heartbreak all bubbling under his skin at the thought of his pity, of his taunting, and he wants to set himself alight than walk through these flames.)

Wood only stares at him from through the glass doors of the train carriage, and his face crumples into something void of pity or triumph, only…warmth. Something so foreign, enough to leave him slack-jawed in the middle of this train, staring back at him and being struck with the desire to barrel into this boy’s arms and never leave. The sensation hits him from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, and he has to close his eyes before he can grip his wand tighter and force his legs to move away, far away from Wood’s gaze and his inviting arms beneath that stupid Gryffindor jumper.

He can’t take another year of this, he already knows.

To his credit, Wood manages to wait two whole days before tracking him down in the library, where Marcus is burying himself in Charms textbooks; he’s never actually taken the time to look at the assigned reading, but he figures if he doesn’t want to go through seventh year for the third time, he better start. He’s pointedly ignoring the looks he’s receiving from third year Hufflepuffs who are muttering about him, because he can’t get himself banned from the library this early in term, when someone budges the side of his table, spilling his ink slightly.

He looks up to glare at the back of Wood’s head, who doesn’t look back once as he makes his way past another aisle of books and disappearing, his arms swinging as if he doesn’t have a care in the word. Git.

Marcus waits a full six minutes and twenty-four seconds before he looks down and sees the scrap of ripped parchment, a detailed list of the most efficient books and their chapters for passing his subjects.

He has to stop himself from turning the damn table over, because clearly he’s in Hell.

When he passes his Transfiguration exam after spending three hours in the section of the library Wood’s noted down for him, with McGonagall looking at him suspiciously as she hands him back his parchment as if she doesn’t believe he could do it, well fuck her, Marcus feels something fluttering in the pit of his stomach. His immediate thought is to flatten it.

It’s been building for so long, though, and he thinks to himself, he could allow himself one moment.

He doesn’t allow himself much time to ponder what he’s doing when the thought first comes to mind, because even thinking the words makes him want to slap himself, because it’s so stupid.

He just focuses on the sound of his shoes hitting the floor, left, right, left, right, as he makes his way out of the dungeons.

Marcus has never once thought that he would ever, in a million years, be the one sneaking into the Gryffindor common room. It’s much easier than he would think, considering the lions tend to value too much on stupid things like bravery and standing up for others, things that can have you bleeding out on the ground in an instant. Things Oliver Wood has in abundance, and then some, but he won’t let himself consider that. The Fat Lady is asleep and he’s picked up enough underground spells, things only taught in cold stone walls with green and silver tapestries, that he can sneak in and survey the warm fire.

He doesn’t let himself think about Wood spending hours in front of that fire, what he would look like dozed off in his red and yellow jumper, because he doesn’t hate himself that much. Not yet.

He can’t let himself go any further, so he simply takes out the precious, fragile piece he’s kept in the pocket of his robes, and charms it to find Wood, wherever it is he sleeps. Marcus knows if he let himself get that close, to see him in such a state of undress, warm and consumed by sleep, he’d drive himself mad.

(And there’s another part of him, whispering all the time, telling him that he doesn’t want it to be like this. He wants to see Wood happy and content in sleep, but he wants to be offered it. To see Wood give himself up like that, all for Marcus.)

Before he can regret it, he’s running back through the entryway and doesn’t stop until he’s back in familiar territory, and for the first time since he was eleven years old, the dungeons feel too cold.

The next morning, Marcus is deliberately not looking over at the Gryffindor table, moodily moving his eggs around on his plate while beside him Thruston is droning on about another girl he’s been trying to woo that he’s already mentally checked out of listening to, and when he finally can’t stop himself from flickering up to look over, he has to bite down on his lip so hard he feels the skin break, warm blood on the bottom of his two front teeth.

Oliver Wood is sitting beside his friends, looking as if he doesn’t even see Marcus, laughing at some joke that’s being passed around— and on the table in front of him is the fluttering paper bird that Marcus had left for him, levitating just a centimetre or two above the wooden table above bowls and plates, gentle and delicate and everything that Marcus is not. He wouldn’t believe it had came from his hands himself if he didn’t have the sting of the paper cuts still on his fingers.

His heart is threatening to burst, and he has to close his eyes before his glass of pumpkin juice smashes on the concrete floor

They don’t speak about it, because there is nothing to speak about, he tells himself.

Wood just likes him around because he keeps him on his toes. Nothing more.

They still bite at one another in taunts, their hands gripping tighter and tighter each time they’re forced to shake before a game, trying to break one another’s fingers. He can easily memorise the feeling of every scrape and bump in the man’s hand, knows how it curves around his own, can close his eyes and feel the warmth flood over his palm once more.

He rarely allows himself to indulge in these moments, because that’s what it is –– a guilty, awful pleasure that he knows he shouldn’t want, that he shouldn’t slowly be growing addicted to. Oliver Wood is the most ridiculous, incredulous, bull headed, ill-tempered creature he’s ever laid eyes on, and he wants nothing more than to keep him all to himself, away from anything that could take that blinding, dazzling passion away for even a moment.

He could ruin this boy, and that’s exactly why he fights every spark in his fingertips threaded against his.

“Hey, Flint, want to remind your Chasers which direction their hoops are in? Not that I mind them giving us points, but I figure coaching your team for you as well as mine actually gives me a bit of competition, but I don’t want to have to do your dirty work for you,” Wood’s voice is bright and loud and entirely not what he needs at eight in the morning, but he still almost leans towards it, following its sound as he walks around Marcus, stopping directly before him.

He’s smirking, dressed in his colours and looking entirely too good in them, his chest puffed up and his gaze locked.

Marcus hears Bennett and Doe’s outcries behind him, but ignores it. He doesn’t seem to give a thought to much else other than shooting back, “Don’t worry, Wood, I’ll just tell them to look for your giant head and they’ll know where to go.”

And he’s expecting a comeback of sorts, but instead, the boy just laughs, a great big belly laugh that seems to light him up from within as he shows his teeth, eyes gleaming and it’s all directed towards Marcus, of all people, and he’s not sure how to react to that. Potter is looking at him with raised eyebrows, and he hears a Weasley twin mutter something about ‘Oliver finally going off the deep end,’ but he’s not concerned with much more than capturing every second of this state Wood has himself in, his own gaze flickering over every inch of him because he’s not sure he’ll ever see him like this again, and he’s a desperate man.

By the time Wood composes himself, Marcus already has his hand outstretched.

“Or maybe they’ll just hear your foghorn of a laugh, considering you never shut up during games.” He shouldn’t still be speaking, but he wants to keep him here as long as possible, to savour this.

Wood chuckles again, his nails scratching at the edges where the leather of Marcus’s gloves expose his fingers as they push against each other’s palms. “I have to keep you looking somehow, don’t I?”

He’s walking away in a second, and Marcus is left standing with shaking fingers and stares stamped onto his back. He doesn’t even look at them. He’s just as confused as they are, quite frankly.

Marcus wakes up on the day of the final Quidditch match of his Hogwarts career with something undefinable fluttering in his chest.

He doesn’t say a word as he marches down to breakfast with the rest of his team, huddled at one side of their table, and he doesn’t once lift his eyes to catch Wood’s gaze, although he can feel it burning on his skin, making him itch. Malfoy notices, his peroxide-blonde hair gelled back in a way that makes Marcus want to push him off the Astronomy Tower.

“You want me to say something, Flint? He’s trying to freak you out.”

Marcus snaps, “Shut up and eat your toast, if you want to beat Potter. You’ll need it.”

And then within a flash he’s got his hand in Wood’s, looking down to see green and silver encased in red and gold; he wants to cling on for dear life, can feel his fingers fluttering between Wood’s, wanting to twist and scratch and do something to mark that this is real. One look up, and he knows Oliver Wood feels the same. This is what it’s all come down to, from that first match as a lanky third year watching this boy bounce through the air, knocked out of flight with one snap.

The moment is over before he can breathe out, and he sees a glint of something in Wood’s eyes, like he wants to keep holding on, too. Like he knows how difficult this is for him.

Within fifteen minutes, Wood’s been hit by a Bludger, and Marcus would actually laugh out loud if he had the time to, because he’s always been a cliché, hasn’t he? Start with a Bludger, end with a Bludger.

There’s something else there, though, in his gut, something gnawing and thrashing and pushing him to fly over to where Wood is trying to regain his balance, hoping nobody notices just how much he’s leaning over to see if the man’s okay. By the time Wood is flying again and trying to look back at him, Marcus is gone, keeping himself on the other side of the pitch to pass.

It’s another four minutes before the second Bludger comes, and he can almost feel the jolt in his own stomach as he watches Wood go down again. He can’t even react in time to stop himself flying over, hovering too high above where his heart has dropped to the ground with the broken boy lying there in the grass, muddy and groaning and ripping at every edge of him. One Bludger is enough to keep him still up, but two? Marcus could kill him, if he weren’t too busy trying to stop himself from taking him into his arms every second of the day.

He keeps himself in the air, although half of him isn’t there on the pitch at all.

Gryffindor wins, and Marcus can’t force himself into feeling anything.

Everything he’s worked for has been for the Cup, for the title, for the one thing that he actually can do in this world. He’s not handsome, and he’s not sharp; he’s not smart in the slightest, and he’s not particularly good with a wand. All he can do is fly and pass and chase, and in the end? It meant nothing.

He tells himself that over and over, staring at Oliver Wood on the shoulders of the Weasley twins, shining in his uniform with his broad shoulders and his assured smile, his eyes wide as if he can’t believe it either, and he’s chanting along with his team and the stands. Marcus doesn’t think he’s ever seen something so beautiful, and then Wood looks over directly at him and beams at him, the sun beating down on him like he’s some sort of God, and Marcus could die right there and be happy with what he has been given in this miserable life, just to look up at that face.

He keeps his expression blank, however, and returns to the ground quickly, leaving the rest of his team to deal with a petulant Malfoy.

Once again, he’s back in the changing rooms when Wood comes to find him, although he’s fully dressed and is trying to re-do his tie in the small mirror levitating beside him at the correct angle. He doesn’t even look up, although he knows exactly who it is and that he’ll still be dressed in his Quidditch robes like last time, having spent the last hour or so running through the castle, shouting and dancing and shining like the goddamn sun that Oliver Wood is. Like he can stop himself.

(Like Marcus could stop himself from being burned.)

Wood clears his throat, and his voice is fond when he speaks. “You played a good game, Flint.”

He snorts. “You don’t need to gloat, or worse, give commiserations, idiot. This isn’t a kid’s league.”

There’s silence, and he looks up to find Wood gazing at him once more, although he’s frowning now. He’s chewing his bottom lip as if he’s in deep contemplation, and Marcus wants to both snap at him and drag him into his space. He has to stop himself from moving forward from doing either of the two, gritting his teeth and running a hand through his air, as if holding onto something else will stop him.

“You’re still here,” he notes, raising an eyebrow. “What do you want?”

Of all the things Marcus could have imagined, he would never have let himself even dare to think of Wood striding towards him and roughly grabbing his shoulders, smashing their lips together.

It’s like an untamed fire let out once they finally kiss, something within Marcus finally being set free that he had tried to restrain for so long, so long, and he lets out a cry of sorts as he snakes his fingers around Wood’s wrists, squeezing them and pushing their bodies flush together. The Gryffindor moves his own hands through Marcus’s hair, latching on as if he were to never let go, licking the inside of his mouth and biting into the skin of his bottom lip.

Within moments they’re pressed up against the wall, and Wood wastes no time in pushing up against him and moving his lips against his own once more. It’s rough and coarse, hands shaking as they brush against one another, and when Marcus pulls back to lean his head against the wall and try to regain his breathing, he swears he hears Wood whine against his lips, before he’s already moving across his jaw, biting and nipping and licking until he’s on his neck, and Fuck, this man will be the death of him––

“Merlin, Wood,” he murmurs. “Who knew you had a good use for that mouth of yours.”

There’s something that can only be described as a full-on growl against the skin of his neck, and Marcus can’t help the shiver that runs through his spine as Wood pulls back to lean his forehead against his, breath ghosting over him.

His voice is low when he replies, “Oliver. Call me Oliver.”

Marcus wants to scoff at first, because this isn’t a romance or anything, but then Wood is pulling away so he can look into his eyes, soft and begging beneath the fire. “Please,” he whispers. “I need to hear you say my name.”

Could he?

Looking into this boy’s glazed over eyes, shining with lust, feeling his mud-stained fingers scrabbling at his shirt and the fabric of their trousers pressed together, Marcus feels himself swallow, never looking away from Oliver Wood staring at him like he’d cross Neptune itself to hear him just speak his name. Just once.

He wants to say no more than ever, because he knows if he lets himself say that name, whisper it against Wood’s lips, he’ll be jumping headfirst into something that could rip his skin from him and leave him exposed, vulnerable to the world and to Wood himself, more than anything. He’d be dunking his head into freezing cold water, opening his mouth and screaming into the void; untamed, undefinable, all-consuming. He’d never be able to step back.

He decides to fling himself over the edge.

“Oliver,” he says, and it’s only because Wood is so close to him, so close his name is dragging along his jaw, that he can hear it on his tongue. Marcus immediately closes his eyes once he does so, not wanting to see whatever is on Wood’s face, but then the nose on his jawline is moving across his cheek to nuzzle against his own nose, urging him to open his eyes. When he does, he loses his breath at the sight of Oliver Wood, wide-eyed and looking at him with a devotion that could very well be the end of Marcus.

He doesn’t speak. He tells him everything he can’t say with his lips, instead.

Somehow, Wood becomes Oliver.

It’s only in his head, however. Marcus spends the last week of his time at Hogwarts before he has to leave glaring at him across doorways, stomping on his foot when they pass one another, making rude gestures during dinner. Oliver only responds with a smirk, nothing that would make anyone who didn’t know suspect a thing; he usually did so in retaliation, after Bell or some other Gryffindor Chaser had convinced him that they should ‘take the high road and not stoop to the Slytherin’s level.’

Only Marcus can see the softening in his brown eyes, can see the glint of his teeth when it catches his bottom lip as their gaze meets for a moment too long. It makes him want to hide, to run far from the Great Hall, preferably into the Forbidden Forest with the cool night air, to let himself melt into the darkness. Instead of slowly becoming undone right there in full view under Oliver Wood’s gaze, so warm and familiar when it shouldn’t be. When he has no right to make him feel like this.

They don’t speak of the kiss, in fact, they don’t even approach one another in the last days of their time at Hogwarts. Marcus counts the days in the hours he can manage to get through, the hours he can spend avoiding floppy-haired, Scottish Gryffindors who try to follow him with their eyes. He doesn’t want to talk about something that will only leave them both burning and rotting in the end. Something that can never be kept safe. A flame that will only die out in the cold.

He spends his nights in bed, whispering the name over and over to himself, the name he has kept hidden in his heart for so long and wants to etch all over his skin–– Oliver. Oliver. Oliver.

The thing is, he’s well aware, as everyone else in this place is, that Wood’s been offered a reserve spot on Puddlemere United, swooped up in the roar of the Cup victory and snatching him just as easily as if it were destined. Which, perhaps it was, Marcus thinks to himself; Oliver Wood is storybook hero, one even Beedle the Bard would be proud of have conjured up, perfect even in his folly. He’s well aware of who he is, too, and so he’s okay with the uncertainty of the future before him, the whispers of Dark Marks and Death Eaters possibly reforming and family businesses and engagements to nice young girls thrown at him, never even letting him blink before he’s been shunted into the life of his father and his father before him.

That is why Marcus doesn’t let himself burn over in jealousy when he sees Oliver walk through the halls with people clapping his back and congratulating him, professors ranting on about his bright future, his smile threatening to blind. No, he always knew it would end this way, and he’s…he’s not happy, because he’s not sure he’s ever felt truly happy the way he’s heard others speak of it, but seeing Oliver Wood like this is pretty damn close.

He doesn’t even look up when he feels Oliver move behind him, tap his fingers in three little dots, one, two, three, on the back of his jumper before taking off through the door and out of the Great Hall. Marcus leaves himself a good seventeen seconds before he gets up to follow, wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve because he’s not a gentlemen at all, and he doesn’t want to be.

They keep walking, leaving enough space behind them that he lets Oliver out of his sight for a good few seconds before he catches up, all the way down to the dungeons, and he’s raising his eyebrows as they stop in a deserted classroom, the only light coming through from the high window above them and shedding down to highlight the gold in Oliver’s eyes, because if this isn’t the most beautiful torture, he’s not sure what is.

Oliver stops, and Marcus can see his fists clench before the boy’s turning around to face him, and his face is pale and entirely unlike the expressions warming them earlier. His own eyebrows furrow, trying to figure out what this is.

“Are…” He stutters, starts again. He’s not going to break down. “What do you want, Wood?”

Using his last name seems to flicker a switch in the man before him, and his eyes glaze over with something Marcus doesn’t want to spend time analysing. It would only break his heart into even sharper edges than it already has.

“Erm,” he begins, and his voice is husky and strained and fuck. “I guess, I just…you know about Puddlemere, don’t you?”

So he was just coming to boast?

Marcus rolls his eyes, because it’s a defence mechanism that hasn’t failed him yet. “Yes, Wood, we’ve all heard about your lovely little job set up for you. So you don’t have to rub it in my face, I get it.”

None of what he’s saying is true, because it was never a competition, not really. Maybe when they were younger, when he wanted to show his dominance over this burning piece of light that threatened to up-end him and leave him dangling by a thread, but not now. Not with the respect and the awe and the fondness that radiates between them.

He sees Oliver start to move, to take a hesitant step or two forward, so close he could reach out and touch, just one touch and Marcus is shaking as he stands, speaking again in a rough whisper that betrays too, too much.

“Don’t touch me. I’ll die if you touch me.”

Oliver stops directly in front of him, his face only centimetres away, so close Marcus can smell the cologne and the sweat and everything that makes him want to push himself over into the abyss and drown in this boy, lap up the waves and lose control. Instead, he simply closes his eyes and lets out a shuddering breath when he feels scabbed over hands cradle his jaw, a feather-light touch that could be the end of him.

A second of silence, and then everything bursts into colour when Oliver kisses him.

It’s the opposite of last time, in all the ways Marcus could never believe. He could never have thought that he and Oliver Wood would have anything resembling something so soft, but here they are, curling into one another against the wall as the boy before him continues stroking his face, his lips never demanding. As if they have all the time in the world.

As if he isn’t about to leave him.

It stops too soon, and Merlin, Marcus is embarrassing enough that he actually chases Oliver’s lips when he moves back a step, which elicits a small smile from the boy. They’re still close enough that their breath mingles, and he feels dizzy and light and entirely unlike himself.

(Or perhaps more like himself than he’s ever felt before.)

“I couldn’t have done this without you,” Oliver is whispering in his ear, his eyes frantically searching Marcus’s face as if he needs him to know this. “Everything…everything is because of you, because you made me better.”

He has to close his eyes again because this can’t be real, these words are not real. He is not being held up by this shining, beautiful boy who has not been made for him to ruin and take, and he is not falling harder and faster with every word he says, with every look that leaves him scared and naked but never alone, never with Oliver. Marcus can’t say a thing in return, can only let out something that he doesn’t want to call a whimper because that would make him want to die on the spot, and clutches at Oliver’s robes as tight as he can, a sign of Please don’t leave me. Please don’t go. Please.

It’s not until he’s being held in Oliver’s strong arms and hears his voice again, “No, baby, no, I’ll never leave you,” that he realises he said it all out loud, and Marcus lets out a shuddering sob.

They stay like that for longer than he can count, and he doesn’t let himself try to. He only focuses on the strands of Oliver’s hair that curl at the back of his neck, twisting his fingers between them and pressing his lips to the curve where his neck ends and his shoulder begins in something that isn’t a kiss, trying to fit himself into him the way he wants to, as impossible as it is. Oliver doesn’t seem to mind, cooing and shushing him every time the tears begin again, and it’s almost not embarrassing simply because it’s him, who never seems to look at Marcus with anything other than admiration and awe and respect.

Even when they hated one another, he still looked at Marcus as something to be revered. To be taken with.

He’s finally being taken apart, piece by piece, and put back together by this boy with his rough hands and his sharp accent and his twinkling eyes, his pulse that he whispers beats only for Marcus as he takes him back to his dormitory, because it’s our last week and I’ve had the fantasy of having you up here for at least three years, Flint, and when he’s being bundled up in long limbs with red and gold stitched onto the arms of pyjamas, Marcus tries not to let himself sleep, even when his eyes weigh down and Oliver’s voice is telling him to dream, to dream of them and the future and the possibilities, can’t you see them, baby?

Nothing can compare to his reality right now, he knows.

(If Wood insists on being a cliché, he has to be, too.)

#owvlery #mxrcusflint #flintwood #flintwood fic #idk!!! what this is!!! help me!!#fics #there's a reason i dont generally write fics and certainly do not post them online #pls ignore this its awful and goes nowhere wow

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