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sunaswife · 3 years

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Summary: It’s been five years since you’ve seen your ex, Rin. He’s still not over you and you’re not over him. When he finds out you have children he thought he didn’t have a chance. Then he finds out they’re his? All of a sudden you’re teaching Suna how to be a single dad.

🔪: hi I’m sorry for not updating and it’s been a little over a month but shit happened and I had no motivation! I am doing my best (•̀ᴗ•́)و

Warnings: Fluff, angst I guess, drama, and cuteness twin overload

Previously Up Next Masterlist

Chapter fifteen

“No Rin.” “Please.” “No Rin.” “But babeeeee.” Suna whined, he held out his EJP jersey in his hands. “Fine just this once, I don’t want anyone coming in.” You said and he nodded, you turned around and began to take off your sleeping shirt and Rin pouted, “Babe gimme a show.” He whined once more. You turned with your chest covered and threw your sleeping shirt which landed perfectly on his head.

You put on the cold jersey and saw how it still looked like a dress even though you have gained so much weight. Probably because Rin has gained so much muscle. You turned to face him and his mouth stayed hung open, you giggled and neared him. You rested your hands on his thighs and gave his cheek a small peck. “You okay there?” You asked. His arms wrapped around you and he lifted you on the bed like a rag doll. “Why” kiss “are you” kiss “so” kiss “beautiful?” Kiss.

“Stop being so cute then my heart can’t contain it.” You scolded as you brushed your fingers through his short hair. “Mommy...daddy?” You both heard behind the door, the doorknob slowly twists and you push Rin away, he falls off the bed and lands on the floor, right on his ass. The door opens and you see Rini there, “What’s wrong?” You asked him, “My tooth.” He said. “What about your—oh he’s bleeding—“ Rin said. “Take him to the bathroom and rinse his mouth, I’ll check out his mouth after I change.” You told Rin and he nodded. He carried Rini to your bathroom and helped him rinse his mouth. You quickly changed out of his jersey and put on the shirt from before. “Alright lemme see.” You said as you walked in. Rini was sitting on the counter with his mouth opened, sure enough he had a loose tooth and was too afraid to pull it out. There was nothing you can do but wait for it to fall off by itself, you wouldn’t dare to traumatize him by pulling it out yourself.

You carried the boy back to his room and saw Chewy sleeping on Akira’s bed. He woke up due to the noise and sensed Rini’s slight discomfort over his loose tooth. He carefully jumped off and yawned. With ease he climbed on Rini’s bed and cuddled with him. You tucked them both in and kissing Rini’s head goodnight you made your way out to an annoyed looking Rin watching TV. His arms are crossed over his chest and you can clearly see his flexed muscles. You both were about to go to sleep so it didn’t make sense for him to start watching TV. “Aren’t you going to bed?” You tilted your head.

“Not anymore.” He replied a little coldly. “What’s wrong?” You asked with a small pout, “Nothing..” he replied, you sighed and sat next to him on the couch, “doesn’t seem like nothing, did I do something?” You asked but he stayed quiet. “Rin we gotta have communication, if you don’t tell me what I did wrong then I can’t fix it.” You said. “Why are you so hesitant to let people know we’re together? Are you ashamed of me? Is that it? Why do we have to hide our relationship from our own children.” He asked and it finally clicked, “I told you I’m just a little hesitant but I realized now that I shouldn’t have to hide our relationship. I’m sorry now I seem like such a big jerk.” You sighed and you laced your fingers with his. “I get that you’re hesitant but maybe we should at least tell our kids and then slowly tell our friends? You’ll be surprised by the number of messages I get from the twins asking if I made a move yet.” He said and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Okay, we’ll tell the kids.”

“Bye I’m off!” Rin said at the front of the door, the kids automatically stopped what they were doing and ran to see their dad off. You followed behind them and Jamie yelled out her farewell since she was on bed rest. The kids hugged their dad and said their goodbyes and you waited to give him a kiss on the cheek and then expect to get bombarded with questions by the twins. You weren’t expecting him to hold your face and kiss your lips in a deep and loving way. You heard gasps and began smacking Rin’s arm because you couldn’t breath and he wouldn’t let you go. He finally pulled away and you punched him and called him a jerk, immediately the kids began asking questions and running around you as Rin laughed and waltzed to his car.

They couldn’t help but notice your dumb smile.

So this is love?

They wondered and smiled in amazement. You realized it was quiet and you looked down to see the kids staring, your cheeks flushed up. “Mama you’re in deep huh?” Akira asked, “Akira how do you know what that even means?” You asked, “Aunt Jamie.” She smiled. “Jamie I swear to god.” You growled as you made your way to the living room. She was sleeping with her hand over her baby bump. You sighed and put a light blanket over her. “Aunt Jamie is resting so don’t make too much noise, it’s hard for her to sleep with the baby inside since they won’t stop kicking.” You told the kids and they nodded.

“Humpty dumpty had a great fa—“ you were interrupted when your phone rang. Akira was asleep already in her crib but Rini couldn’t sleep so you tried reading so some books to him that your aunt donated. “Hello?” You answered without checking the caller ID, “Y/N..” you heard Jamie’s wobbly voice and you immediately sat up on your futon. “What’s wrong?” You asked, “H-he hit me a-again...” she stuttered. “Where are you?” You asked, voice filled with concern “I’m at home but he left with his buddies to go drink again..” she sniffled. “I’m on my way.” You said and she hung up, you made her promise to call the cops in case he came back. You grabbed the baby carriers and carefully placed Akira in, you were glad she was still asleep. “Come on Rini, let’s go see aunt Jamie okay?” You asked and he giggled. You exited your apartment with a carrier in each hand, their diaper bag, your wallet inside their bag, and a metal baseball bat that Tobio gave as a safety gift.

You drove past your crappy neighborhood and eventually entered Jamie’s nice and fancy neighborhood. You passed a fancy car after another fancy car but your heart almost fell out of your butt when you saw his car. You went into the drive way and quietly pulled the garbage can behind his car in case he made a getaway. You were tired of this sorry excuse of a man hurting Jamie and you were going to do whatever it takes to make sure he’s locked behind bars. You left your babies inside the car, you wouldn’t do this at all but it was nighttime and nobody was around. You locked the car and walked with your bat to the front door. You unlocked the door with the key Jamie gave you and slowly walked in.

“Are you an idiot?! You fucking good for nothing I swear!” You heard his yelling, immediately you called the police in case Jamie couldn’t, you didn’t respond in case they’d talk you out from trying to save your friend. “Don’t you fucking touch me!” You heard Jamie yell. “You’re my fiancé I can touch you however I want.” He growled. “I said no!” She yelled once more. You closed your eyes and prayed to whatever God out there to help you out. Your prayer was interrupted by glass breaking and another scream. You immediately turned to the kitchen where the noise was coming from and saw the 6”2 man hovering over Jamie who was on the floor sitting against the wall, you almost fainted at the blood and dark liquid you assumed was wine, and your anger rose when you saw her hand over her eye. She was obviously in pain. In his hand was the broken wine bottle. He lifted his arm once more but you blacked out and swung the bat. You hit his side and he growled in pain. He turned to see you and his eyes darkened. “You fucking bitch, this is all your fault. If you haven’t became friends with her worthless ass then maybe she wouldn’t have tried to leave me.” He seethed. He made his way to you and before you can defend yourself with another swing the police had barged in and listened to everything.

Jamie was taken to the hospital and was released in the early morning. Tobio helped you moved her stuff out because she suffered a broken wrist and a fractured leg. Your tiny studio apartment couldn’t hold all her things so she had to pay for a storage unit. You couldn’t help but laugh at the look on her face when she saw how empty your home truly was. You slept on the floor in a futon while your kids slept in cribs. You couldn’t afford dressers so you kept their clothes folded neatly on bookshelves. There were baby toys everywhere but no TV. No couch, no alcohol, no nothing.

“Welcome to my home.” You did your little jazz hands, she chuckled and smiled. “Thank you for everything.” “No problem, I know it isn’t much but just for a bit until the trial is over okay?” You said and she nodded. You placed the kids in their cribs and fixed the futon you were sleeping on. “You can sleep here.” You patted, she nodded and made her way over with her crutches. “Do you have another futon?” She asked. “Yeah I’ll pull it out right now.” You said and she nodded. You helped her down and tucked her in. “You’re the only friend who decided to help me.” She spoke suddenly, catching you off guard. “All of my other friends could care less whether I died or not, they’d probably fight over who can keep my clothes.” She said with a dry chuckle. “I appreciate you yn, thank you.” She said and closed her eyes.

You looked at your best friend completely passed out and reminisced I’ve show much you’ve both grown. From enemies to besties.

“Don’t forget they have a limit of 5000 yen.” You warned Tobio and he rolled his eyes. “Yeah yeah, whatever lemme spoil my niece and nephew in peace.” He argued and you sighed. “Just don’t buy them slime, please.” You practically begged. “That was the first thing they asked when I arrived.” He said as he buckled them in their seats.

Once in a while Tobio loved taking them out to give you a break and you appreciated that so much. When Tobio entered your home to grab a quick water, Rin’s car was pulling up and you were slightly nervous as to what could happen. You haven’t exactly told Tobio you were dating Rin again, and Tobio totally flipped when he found out Rin was moving in.

You had told Rin that Tobio wanted to take the kids out for the day and he was a little hesitant, not because he didn’t trust Rin but he wondered if they liked Tobio more than him. He understands he was like a father figure to them and he knows that he’s not on Tobio’s good side. He’s also jealous because he hasn’t taken them out for a father and child day as well. He would love to go to the mall with them and spend money on useless shit. You’d be angry but he’s sure he can handle it.

Rin parked his car and took out his gym bag, he also took out a bag of some thick ass pads, aloe Vera gel and a bottle of something called witch hazel and he made sure it was the alcohol free kind per your request over text. At least you were kind enough to send him pictures so he’s not wandering around the store like a fool.

He was confused about the pads because you use a thinner pad when you’re not using tampons and wondered if your vagina got bigger because you gave birth. But he thought that you feel the same as always so he’d rather ask then overthink things.

“Welcome back Rin.” You smiled as from across Tobio’s car, “Thanks.” He said simply and leaned in to give Akira a kiss on the head, he went around to do the same to Rini and then he pulled you close for a small kiss. “Well what do we have here? I know y’all are together but this was the first time I’ve seen y’all kiss.” Jamie said as she stepped out. You both flinched thinking it was Tobio and Jamie laughed, “Don’t worry he’s in the bathroom. But when are you planning on telling him? You can’t hide your relationship forever.” She rested her hand on her hip.

“I don’t know to be honest.” You sighed and leaned against Tobio’s car. “Maybe he should warm up to me first before we tell him?” Rin asked, “If it isn’t Suna Rintarou.” Tobio walked out of the house. Rin stood straight and gave a slight bow, “Thank you for being there for yn and the twins when I was gone. It’s nice to finally meet you.” He tried to be as respectful as possible.

Tobio crossed his arms over his chest with raised brows, “I can’t say the same for you.” He spat and you felt a pang in your chest. Tobio looked so angry. “Tobio, he’s doing his best. He’s been nothing but respectful and helpful around the house and with the kids.” You explained, “Look, I get that you’re hopeful and forgiving but he ruined your life—“

“He gave me the twins—how is that ruining my life?” You defended. Tobio rolled his eyes, “Whatever, I don’t wanna fight.” He mumbled and you nodded. You stepped away from the car so he can finally take the kids and as he passed by Rin, he purposely bumped his shoulder. You were about to say something but Rin just shook his head and brushed him off. “Bye Tobio, I’ll see you after.” You said but he just mumbled a bye and glared at Rin.

He soon left and Jamie broke the silence, “Yeah so he definitely hates Rin.”

“No shit Sherlock.” Rin sighed and rubbed his temples. “He’ll probably strangle me and give me an earful if I tell him now. We just gotta keep it a secret a little while longer.” You said and they nodded in understanding.

Rin went to shower as you began cooking and Jamie went on a livestream for a bit. She was playing music from your TV which wasn’t pg so you let I slide since the kids weren’t here. “Hey yn do you remember any cheer drills from highschool?” Jamie asked as you turned off the stove to let the food cool for a bit, “Um...not really but didn’t you guys used to do spins and stuff? I saw it a lot during the volleyball games.” You answered, “Yeah you’re not helping but thank you.” She smiled as she put her phone in front of a water bottle. You shook your head and tried not to laugh at he sarcasm.

She took a few steps back to try to recreate an old cheer, obviously she couldn’t jump or do high kicks but it was funny to see her try and you made sure to keep an eye on her in case she overworked herself. You turned back to your task for a split second when the rice cooker beeped. Jamie squatted—well she tried and suddenly she felt a splash down her legs. She gasped as she saw her mustard yellow skirt now wet. “YN—“ she slightly raised her voice in a small panic. “Yes?” You immediately asked and walked to check on her, “My water broke.”

“Lies.”

“This doesn’t smell like pee.”

You were immediately at her side in order to help get her ready for a trip to the hospital. “Are you feeling any contractions?” You asked and she shook her head, “I feel fine.” She replied. “Turn off the livestream.” She said and you quickly turned off her phone. “Okay we’ll call the midwives and see what we need to do for you.” You said and she nodded. You immediately called the midwives and they asked what happened until Jamie winced and groaned. “Jamie, what’s wrong? Do you feel it now?” You asked and she nodded. “Yeah if we don’t leave now I’m having the baby in your house.” She sighed.

The midwives agreed to meet at the hospital with you and you tried your best to guide Jamie to the car. “Rin!” You yelled, he immediately stumbled out of the bathroom wearing some basketball shorts and a t shirt, his usual stay at home wear. “Take her to the car and I’ll go get her bag, her water broke.” You instructed quickly. He was quick to carry her, causing Jamie to smack him when he made a face that he can feel her ‘pee’ after he just showered.

He carefully placed her in the passenger seat of his car since it was smaller and he saw you rush out of the door. “Hnnnnnnn. Fuck my pelvis—“ she groaned and began taking deep breathes.

“Please don’t give birth in my car.”

“Shut the fuck up, Rintarou.”

You kicked Rin to the backseat with Jamie’s bag much to his dismay and you reversed and made your way to the hospital which was about a good twenty minutes away. He called Hana who happened to be on her way back already because she finished business early.

Halfway through the drive Jamie asked to hold your hand for comfort. You’ve done it before, when she faced her ex in trial, when she started a new makeup line or product, before she had an event, before her wedding with Hana. You were always there. “I’m scared.” She mumbled as she looked out the window, “It’s okay to be scared, I was scared when I was in labor.” You replied. “Who was with you?” She asked, “Tobio, and my aunt. Miwa and Hana came when I returned home.” You answered as you stopped at the red light. “Not even your mom?” Her voice cracked, “Nope, not even her. I did call to let her know I was due soon but she just called me names so I hung up.”

Rin looked down at his hands and he rubbed the sweat from his palms on his shorts. It hurt listening to this, if only he didn’t change his number, if only he didn’t lie to you, if only he never laid eyes on you.

If only he never met you.

Tobio was right.

How can you say he didn’t ruin your life when these past five years have been nothing but hell. When you were out of the house and Rin was home with Jamie and the kids he would ask Jamie what happened the last five years because he knew she wouldn’t sugarcoat anything.

He felt a jab in his chest when he heard about all the negative things, and no matter how many positive things Jamie said happened. It was never good enough for him to forget all the shit he put you through.

And that’s why he’s so clingy now, that’s why he’s happier and eager to help and please you in whatever way he can to make up for all this lost time where he should have been by your side. He’ll prove to Tobio and anyone else that he’s good enough for you, that he can be trusted and that he truly loves you.

Funfacts!

I’m sorry I forgot to do this in the last chapter please forgive me 🧎

The kids are happy that their parents are together and they started drawing their family portraits with you two holding hands

Rini accidentally swallowed his tooth in his sleep and cried that the tooth fairy would give him money but Rin made sure to sneak money under his pillow the next night

Jamie’s ex is still in prison and is pissed she left him for a woman (but we stan Hana)

I know same sex marriage isn’t legal in Japan but once again this is a fanfic so I make the rules 🧍

Rin is actually scared of Tobio

But Rin is more scared of Hana

Rin wants to procreate with yn wearing his EJP jersey 🧎 daddy please

Tobio likes to spoil his niece and nephew a little too much. Yn always has to warn him or scold him. Tobio almost bought Rini a real sword because he liked it so much.

Rin is pretty jelly of Tobio’s relationship with his kids and wants to know his secrets

This is Jamie’s 3rd pregnancy, the first was with her ex but his little swimmers were too weak, and the second..y’all already know 😔 if not then reread chapter 1 when yn scolds Jamie for chasing after the kids

After the baby is a year old then Hana will try to get pregnant with the same donor that Jamie had

Idk if I told y’all already but Tobio is the donor 🧐

The thick pads and stuff that Suna got was for YN to make padcicles for Jamie.

Also I am very hungry

🏷: @therealwalmartjesus @differentballooncollection @aaesuki @atsunflower @dope-squish @prettysetterboiss @june-phantom @austriasmariazelle @xrnia @katsulia @aprettyfruit @shut-your-eyes-kiss-me-goodbye @tvbiio @sun-daddy-yoriichi @kamenoyaki @ppangiiroo @loeyprivvv @kmskj92 @lovinnoya @sarahvvictoria @tris-does-stuff @mokkeguts @sunaluvr6969 @bara-rose-would @sempiternal-amour @volleybloop @leykyuu @bokutoichigo @stfucanunot @iloveanime691 @atsumusdomain @ohrintarou @shoutosimp @mqrinqcele @bokutosdivineass @anngelllla @toworuu @hidden-otaku-stuff @seijohiselite @caxsthetic @aquariarose @hhwanggu @bakuhoetoedoroki @yoozuku @osamus-onigiri @akaashi-todorki @donica95 @kakaokenma @airheadpillar

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farfromsugafanfic · 3 years

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Sutures - Chapter Three: Anosognosia

Genre: Soulmates AU, Idiots to Lovers, slight Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Yoongi/Named Reader

Warnings (chapter specific): drinking, drunkenness, light smut, sex dream, implications of oral sex, obsessive behavior from an ex, unhealthy relationship dynamic (not on part of Yoongi & OC)

Synopsis: “A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it.” –Jean de la Fontaine

There was only one thing you and Min Yoongi had in common that night. You were both brokenhearted. You only intended to be together for one night, but when you both end up in the hospital the next day you discover that you are soulmates. It could kill you to be apart. As you and Yoongi attempt to sever the bond between you, will another be formed?

Notes: This was originally written and completed on Wattpad between 2018 and the beginning of 2020. I’ll be slowly posting the chapters here. I may make a tag list depending on if enough people want to follow along with updates. Leave me some feedback if you would like added to a tag list.

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Yoongi saw the look in your eyes shift from soft curiosity to sheer panic. He felt the pit of his stomach fill with guilt. He shouldn't have slept with you; sure, the two of you would still have this problem, but no one would've had reason to find your shoes. You wouldn't have had reason to leave them behind.

He'd felt betrayed, he'd felt lonely, he'd felt unloved by those he wanted to love him most. But, that was no excuse to sleep with the first attractive girl he found.

"Have you told Bang PD yet?" Namjoon asked, his demeanor calm, but Yoongi could see the slight shock cross over his features, causing his thick lips to pout and his chin to jut out.

Yoongi shook his head.

"I'll call him," Namjoon said. The leader placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. He blocked Yoongi's view of you. He worried in those few seconds you were blocked from his view that you would collapse into Namjoon's chest and cry the tears meant for him. The tears because of him.

Namjoon left the room, leaving Yoongi alone with you. He tried his best not to focus on the way your tank top hugged your chest and exposed the hickeys he'd left the night before and that Namjoon probably noticed it too.

"You look tired," Yoongi said. "We can't do anything until tomorrow anyway. Try and get some sleep."

You nodded and Yoongi wasn't sure if you were just trying to reassure him or yourself. He remembered the way you'd fallen asleep long before he did. The way you'd fit against his body; how it felt like two puzzle pieces joining together for the first time. He blinked away the thoughts and tried to focus back down on your eyes.

"We'll pay them off," Yoongi said. "We'll make sure nothing comes of this."

---

Jihee (9:00 am): Are you all right?

Jihee (9:05 am): I heard you're in the hospital

Jihee (10:01 am): None of your members are texting me back

Jihee (12:31 pm): Baby, the news is reporting something about your soulmate? What happened last night?

Jihee (2:43 pm): Yoongi! Please respond to me! I'm worried

Jihee (5:12 pm): Yoongi...what I did last night...what happened was all a mistake...

Jihee (5:12 pm): I still love you

Jihee (6:00 pm): The news said you were released hours ago! Respond to me!

Jihee (8:20 pm): Yoongi, I miss you

Jihee (9:30 pm): I know I don't deserve you. But, please just tell me you're okay

Jihee (11:50 pm): Goodnight. Love you.

---

"Baby," you moaned. Your hands slipping beneath Yoongi's shirt. They were cold, but he still loved the way they moved over his stomach and chest. Your fingertips grazing over his skin, a fingernail occasionally catching and causing him to squirm.

His hands were in your hair, messing it up and causing it to form mountain ranges as his fingers hiked the peaks and valleys. He loved the way it felt between his fingers, soft and light.

Your lips moved from his and down to his neck where your lipstick stained his skin. He kept his grip on your hair, feeling it tug slightly as you move downward. He helped you slip his shirt off as your lips connected with his chest.

"You don't have--"

You silenced him by tugging on the waistband of his jeans and rubbing your thumb over the button, teasing him slightly.

"I want to," you responded, unbuttoning his jeans.

Yoongi tightened his grip on your hair, trying not to focus on the way your lipstick was smeared above your lips. He could already imagine the way they'd look...

His head lulled back and his fingers loosened.

---

Yoongi awoke. He was covered in sweat and ran his hand through his hair. He glanced down at his phone: 6:41 am. He sighed and headed to the bathroom.

He slapped himself softly, trying to stop the thoughts that continued to cross his mind. He didn't have feelings for you, it was simply lingering from he slept with you. Nothing else.

He wasn't going to deny he was attracted to you, he wouldn't have gone back to your apartment otherwise, but he felt nothing romantically for you. Yoongi knew the attraction would continue and probably only get worse, but he had to fight it. The last thing he wanted to do was break either of hearts more than they already were.

Yoongi turned on the shower, the water colder than usual.

---

You stood in Yoongi's studio where he kept his computer. You'd suppressed your laughter at the ridiculous amount of hoops you'd had to jump through in order to enter. A doorbell, black curtain, and two doors. You respected the fact he took his work seriously though. The wall full of awards and trophies he'd won, a few even separate from BTS.

There was a couch in the corner, but you were too anxious to sit. You just wanted your shoes back and whoever took them to get their money and leave you alone. You were thankful your name hadn't been released and the only other person who knew the full truth was Eunji.

"There's many of us trying," Yoongi said. "Me, Namjoon, our managers, other people at the company. One of us will get them."

You nodded and watched as the countdown on the auction neared two minutes to the end. There weren't many bids, but the shoes were somehow already over 300,000 won ($276 USD). You'd brought your knitting needles and some yarn and mindlessly knitted.

"What are you making?" Yoongi asked, a small smile breaking out across his lips. It was tiny and barely recognizable. You weren't sure if he pitied you or if simply trying to break the tension.

"Nothing in particular," you said. "I just need something to keep me busy."

Normally, when you went in without a plan, it turned out as a scarf. You bit you lip as the timer hit a minute.

Yoongi saw your gaze shift to his screen and he readied to enter his bid as close to the end as he could. He entered one million won ($920.00 USD) and hovered his finger over the enter button.

"That's too much!" you said.

"No one will outbid it."

"I know," you said. "But I feel bad. I shouldn't have forgotten them in the first place."

The timer hit twenty seconds. Ten seconds. Yoongi waited just a few more seconds wanting to time it just right.

You heard a scream and a crash and almost simultaneously an error message appeared on Yoongi's computer. Please connect to Wi-Fi.

"Shit," Yoongi said. "Jimin!"

You followed Yoongi to the living room, leaving the partially started scarf behind. You saw Jimin and Jungkook crowded around the router working to connect the cord back into it.

"Did you trip over it again?" Yoongi asked, his voice breathy and exasperated.

"Sorry," he said. "I'm not used to it."

Yoongi sighed and turned back to you. His dark eyes looked down at you apologetically and he sat down on the couch, pulling out his phone.

"I'll try and see if I can see who won."

---

"It looks like they're going to have to come out and fix it," Namjoon said, hanging up the phone. "We won't have internet until then."

The members groaned.

Jungkook walked into the kitchen and brought back a case of beer, a smirk plastered on his face.

"Let's play a game," he said. "To welcome Sumi to the dorm."

"What game?" Namjoon asked.

"Answer or drink," he said. "On your turn, someone asks you a question and if you don't want to answer it, you have to drink."

Everyone agreed and sat in a circle. Yoongi sat on one side of you and Hoseok on the other side. Your knee brushed Yoongi's and you felt a small pang in your chest as you pulled away.

"All right, we'll go in order of age. Jin, you're up first."

You didn't really pay attention to the questions. You'd fall somewhere towards the end. Between Jungkook and Taehyung.

Jin answered the question. He didn't seem like the type to be embarrassed easily, a quality you admired in the eldest.

---

"Yoongi," Jungkook said. "Your turn."

The room stayed silent. No one had a question for the boy and he couldn't help but smirk slightly. However, Taehyung meekly raised his hand.

"What happened with Jihee?"

Yoongi cussed to himself. He knew she had been texting the other members about him. The other members would always consult him first before telling her anything when it was obvious he wasn't talking to her.

"She cheated," Yoongi answered simply.

The other boys' eyes widened and they nodded. However, it wasn't their gazes Yoongi felt boring into him. It was yours. He could feel your eyes staring at his profile.

Yoongi had been careful the night he met you. He managed not even to tell you his name. He'd only mentioned he'd recently gotten out of a relationship. He figured you didn't need to hear his sob story. Besides, he planned on keeping Jihee's betrayal a secret. Just as she wanted. The only people he could trust with the truth were his members.

But, you deserved to know the truth. It was unfair to keep you completely at a distance, especially when he'd overheard everything about your ex.

Yoongi noticed you drinking, you'd already cracked open another can by the time it got Namjoon. He felt a twinge in his chest. Yoongi quickly suppressed it, your drinking habits were none of his business. And based on the way Eunji talked the night at the bar, it didn't sound like you drank much. Only when your heart was broken.

"Sumi," Jungkook said. "Your turn."

Again, the room fell silent. No one knew Sumi well enough to ask her such a personal question. But, then again, everyone was tipsy, or in a few cases, already drunk.

"How's Yoongi in bed?"

Everyone except for Yoongi and you laughed.

"Seriously?" Yoongi asked.

He knew it was the alcohol that asked the question, but it was still inappropriate. He didn't want you to have to drink. Your eyes were glazed and your cheeks rosy.

Yoongi reached over and drank for you, crumpling the can when he finished.

"Move on," he said. "It should be your turn, right, Jungkook?"

"Wait," you said. "I didn't answer."

Everyone turned to look at you. It was obvious you were too drunk to notice that Yoongi had technically already drank for you.

"He's good," you answered. "Better than my ex and I hate that cause..."

You drifted off not noticing the seven stunned faces staring at you.Your words slurred, but they hung in the room. Your eyelids drooped and your head lulled forward into your chest.

"I think it's time for bed," Namjoon said, standing up and helping you stand. He threw an arm around you and led you down the hall towards your bedroom.

Despite the fact that the situation was perfectly appropriate, Yoongi still felt a small pang of jealousy. He knew he shouldn't and that it was all the soulmates thing, but that didn't stop his fists from clenching.

"She probably won't remember this in the morning," Yoongi said. "Don't remind her."

Yoongi swallowed the rest of his drink and left the room on the pretenses of being sleepy--which he was--but he also didn't want anyone to see the blush come to his cheeks.

---

You awoke the next morning with the worst headache you'd ever had. You clutched your forehead and glanced at the time: 10:30 am. You sighed.

You spotted your knitting things from yesterday placed on top of the dresser. You didn't remember fetching them from Yoongi's studio, but then again, you barely remembered anything after Jimin knocked the Wi-fi out.

"All I drank was beer," you muttered to yourself.

You weren't known for being a lightweight causing you to wonder just how much you'd drank the night before.

As you squirmed you felt something soft move in the crook of your arm. You looked down and saw Kitty. You smiled at the stuffed cat and her droopy eye.

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wigwurq · 4 years

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WIG REVIEW: THE UNDOING

You guys. Remember that time I said I was going to try to watch new movie releases and do more wig reviews in preparation for the weirdest Oscar season ever? Well instead I watched a lot of prestige TV. So. Here we are! Movies be damned, there are a lot of tv shows with women in bad red wigs and I watched them! The Undoing is one of those shows. Having already suffered through two whole seasons of Nicole Kidman in another David E. Kelley prestige HBO show (AND THE HORROR OF HER WIGS!) I wasn’t sure if I could stomach another one, but you guys - this one is TOTALLY DIFFERENT. It’s in NYC and her wig is curly not straight!!! Let’s discuss (and a whole lot more!) I will be going episode by episode...

Episode 1: The Undoing

First off, I love that this episode name is just the same name as the show. I can already tell we are in for some real creativity with this show! Anyway, we meet Nicole Kidman who probably has a character name but who cares! She is super rich and married to Hugh Grant which I absolutely love as a fan of the Paddington movies - she is the villain in the first one and he is in the second - and this show already feels like a villain supergroup movie because I definitely hate both of them. They’re both doctors, their palatial house looks like a magazine, and they have a seemingly well adjusted tween who doesn’t look like either of them (but he is the kid actor from A Quiet Place and Ford v Ferrari so ok I guess he can act?) Their one problem is that said kid wants a dog but they can’t have one because Nicole Kidman tells the kid that Hugh Grant once accidentally allowed his family dog to run into traffic and his family blamed him and that definitely sounds like a lie! A big little lie!!!

Speaking of which, Nicole Kidman’s wig. As we know from my harrowing journey through her Big Little Lies wig, David E. Kelley likes her as a redhead and I hate all her wigs. This wig harkens back to the 90s when she was still a scientologist and didn’t wear wigs all the time (what a different time!) Unlike back then, Kidman now has a new terrifying face to match her terrifying wigs. Truly, I don’t know what plastic surgeon she pissed off but her mouth is in a constant Joker grin and she is barely able to move parts of her face anymore? The wig is a tangled mess but the true horror is the seamwork - the part is from places not real and also imagined and the texture is something close to a Halloween fright wig.

Which brings me to the real theme of this show: Nicole Kidman’s addiction to midweight duster coats. She owns them all, y’all. We first see her in this green velvet number which looks like a robe, spans no seasons, and also carries you nowhere. BUT paired with this red curly mess, it does look like she is paying homage to Bette Midler in Hocus Pocus, and for that I say: amen. And also: PLEASE PUT A HEX ON THIS ENTIRE SHOW PLEASE.

Now to the plot??? Nicole Kidman sends her kid to a fancy schmancy private school and she is on some fundraiser committee with her only gal pal, Lily Rabe (praise be!) plus some other harpies that definitely won’t matter to the rest of this show at all. Also present is a new interloper of indeterminate ethnicity who has the audacity to be young, attractive, bearing curly hair WITHOUT a wig, and a small child who she has to feed from her own perfect bosom. THE HARPIES ARE SO PISSED BY BREASTFEEDING Y’ALL.

Anyway, this interloper chick is definitely weird and shows up at Nicole Kidman’s gym (where she does rigorous foot pointing exercises and somehow tames her wig back, kind of). The chick approaches Kidman in the buff with a combination of aggressiveness and openness that makes Nicole Kidman really uncomfortable though I definitely choose to believe that she’s mainly intimidated by bitch’s non-wigged hair.

Fast forward to the school fundraiser where Nicole Kidman switches up her midweight duster coat obsession for a friggin cape IF YOU CAN EVEN and all the harpies are present in their best dresses which could all definitely be worn to the Golden Globes and somehow the interloper is there also in a gown. HOW DARE SHE! THE HARPIES ARE PISSED! So is the vile Donald Sutherland (Nicole Kidman’s dad who just HATES Hugh Grant for reasons unknown).

But Hugh Grant leaves for a medical conference just as....dun dun dun....the interloper is murdered!!! ALSO NICOLE KIDMAN CAN’T REACH HUGH GRANT. Also he left his cellphone in a random junk drawer! I refuse to believe this magazine apartment has a junk drawer! Kidman’s wig magically stays halfway up without use of pins or elastics because that is just how horrifying this wig is! This show is so stupid!

Episode 2: The Missing

So Hugh Grant is fully on the lam and mainly NOT at that medical conference which may or may no exist but Nicole Kidman is not interested in googling it and that hot interloper remains to be murdered. Also Nicole Kidman’s wig is still a tangle of complete and utter nonsense AS IS THIS SHOW. Also this wig has two settings: dried out desert or oily sweat lodge. This episode starts on sweat lodge. Anyway, Nicole Kidman goes looking around for Hugh Grant and only finds more questions at his hospital and then goes to her job where she is kind of an ineffectual couples counselor. Also David E Kelley/Nicole Kidman prestige HBO shows I guess always require some couples counseling that is highly questionable.

ANYWAY! I forgot to mention that the lead investigator in this murder is Edgar Ramirez who is hot but also kind of shifty. He starts questioning Nicole Kidman about all kinds of crap involving Hugh Grant and then lays down some hard truths: HUGH GRANT SUCKS!!! He got fired from his hospital job curing children’s cancer after he got too close to one of his patients’ moms and DUH IT’S THE HOT INTERLOPER. Nicole Kidman has to gather a calming circle of midweight duster coats to even deal with this new development.

I really love that Hugh Grant is basically just starring as himself in the mid 90s (REMEMBER DIVINE BROWN?) and I’m kind of here for it. Regardless, Hugh Grant is now the prime suspect in this whole mess and Nicole Kidman’s beautiful magazine apartment is now being completely pulled apart and all she can do is look at her terrifying face and touch it with her terrifying talons and pack up all her midweight duster coats and get the eff out of there. BUT TO WHERE?!

DUH NICOLE KIDMAN OWNS A BEACH HOUSE OBVS. So she drives out there and is somehow able to braid her damn wig! HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE. THE WIG IS VERY UPSET ABOUT IT AS AM I. She and her tangled tiny braid (she has so much hair in that wig - why is the braid so small??) stare out into the ocean a lot and ignore her child. Also new coat alert and this one is PLAID!!!

And then Hugh Grant shows up and is super creepy and chokey. He tries to explain his actions and confirms his affair with hot interloper which is basically just all a plot synopsis of Fatal Attraction but says that he definitely did NOT murder her. WE SHALL SEE ABOUT THAT. Nicole Kidman calls 911 anyway.

Episode 3: Do No Harm

OMG GUYS THIS EPISODE STARTS WITH EDGAR RAMIREZ SHOWING UP AT NICOLE KIDMAN’S BEACH HOUSE IN A HELICOPTER. How much money is the NYPD really willing to spend on Hugh Grant? All of it? Anyway, Hugh Grant ends up in jail (which is not as fabulous as his prison time in Paddington 2) and we find out that he fathered that baby the hot (murdered) interloper had and willfully breastfed in front of those harpies in episode 1. THIS SHOW IS WILD AND ALSO STUPID.

Speaking of wild and stupid, Nicole Kidman visits Hugh Grant at Rikers and we are led to believe that Rikers Island has a COAT CHECK?!?!?! Look: she shows up in one of her millions of midweight duster coats and in the visiting room she has none. ARE YOU KIDDING ME, SHOW?!?!?! THIS ALSO HAPPENS TWICE BECAUSE THEY CHECK BOTH HER AND HER SON’S COATS THE SECOND TIME WHAT.

Hugh Grant maintains his innocence and somehow Nicole Kidman’s bent ass wig is convinced and they hire a fabulous defense lawyer which the vile Donald Sutherland is none too thrilled about paying for and spends lots of quiet time at the Frick Museum about it also WTF show you’re willing to pay for the Frick and not frickin wigs. Also Nicole Kidman is confronted by the hot interloper’s husband and it does not go over well. No social interactions in this show make any sense, also.

In the end, Nicole Kidman gets ANOTHER midweight duster coat, Edgar Ramirez questions Nicole Kidman AGAIN but this time with video surveillance footage of her walking outside the hot interlopers studio...the night she was murdered and YES IN THAT DAMN CAPE. WAIT WHAT?! Also even in surveillance footage, Nicole Kidman’s wig is a mess.

Episode 4: See No Evil

This episode introduces the idea that Nicole Kidman really likes taking walks. Long walks, nighttime walks, sleepwalks? Nobody knows, especially Nicole Kidman. When asked why she was walking near the murdered interloper’s studio, Nicole Kidman just kinda shrugs and says “I take walks!” AND EVERYONE BELIEVES HER!!! WTF IS THIS SHOW. It should be noted that this long walks are taken in her usual midweight duster coats (WHICH ARE SUBTLY DIFFERENT COLORS AND FABRICS FROM OTHER MIDWEIGHT DUSTER COATS SHE OWNS) and very not sensible boots. Her walks can last between 10 minutes and 10 hours and who is to say where she even goes and who she is followed by? Maybe the interloper’s husband follows her around or maybe it’s in her head? Maybe she murdered the interloper and didn’t quite remember it? Regardless: it’s a lot of walking and it is EXHAUSTING for us all and finally Nicole Kidman just passes out in Central Park after minutes or hours of walking around and a bunch of kids form a literal calming circle around her and my eyes rolled into the reservoir.

This episode is also all about money, hunny! Nicole Kidman has a lot of it - so much that it was revealed in the last episode she didn’t even notice that a lot of it was missing from that time Hugh Grant lost his job and didn’t tell anyone for a few months except the vile Donald Sutherland who loaned him $500K AND NO ONE KNOWS WHERE THAT MONEY WENT!!!! Well I hope you kept your check book out, Donald Sutherland because now you need to pay $2 MILLION DOLLARS to get Hugh Grant out of jail. Ok? OK. ALSO DO YOU JUST OWN THE FRICK MUSEUM????

So now Hugh Grant just lives in his old magazine apartment which has somehow returned to magazine status after Edgar Ramirez and a thousand cops completely ransacked it. Also now Nicole Kidman and the son live at the vile Donald Sutherland’s house so all is...well? Well no not really because Nicole Kidman STILL HAS THAT DAMN WIG.

AND THAT ISN’T EVEN THE MOST HORRIFYING PART OF THIS EPISODE! That came when Hugh Grant, now free from jail and left to his own devices, visits the interloper’s widow and children! WHAT IS HE DOING!! Somehow, interloper’s husband lets Hugh in and lets him hold the baby which he fathered. AND THEN HUGH REVEALS HE’S MET THIS BABY BEFORE AND OFFERS TO TAKE CARE OF IT! WHILST ON TRIAL FOR MURDER! THIS SHOW!!!!!

Episode 5: Trial by Fury

WHAT IS EVEN DONALD SUTHERLAND’S APARTMENT?!?! It has a balcony, and it seems to have a balcony cover because no one gets wet when they go out on the balcony and it’s raining. Rich people really live in a different climate zone than the rest of us garbage people. Regardless, Nicole Kidman’s frizzy wig is at PEAK FRIZZINESS on this balcony.

Anyway, the trial of the goddamned century is finally here!! And Nicole Kidman’s wig part still remains an elusive mystery. What is being kept in there? NO ONE CAN SEE ACTUAL SCALP OR ANSWERS. Another question: why did everyone bring their kids to the trial where they could see very upsetting pictures (that I didn’t even look at!) of the murdered interloper. CHILD ABUSE! ALSO! WOULD EVERY SINGLE GODDAMNED CABLE NEWS NETWORK REALLY COVER THIS CASE SO CLOSELY??? I guess it’s not an election year in this alternate reality.

Which makes this scene where the whole family dines out and no one bothers them at all the more improbable. Also completely insane? At one point, Hugh Grant just storms out of the dinner and into the bar area of the restaurant (omg remember restaurants?) and Nicole Kidman follows him there and they have a very intense conversation about family secrets literally in the entrance of a busy restaurant. WHAT REALITY IS THIS SHOW IN?!?!?! The family secret? Remember that time Nicole Kidman told their son that he couldn’t have a dog because Hugh Grant accidentally killed his family dog? IT WASN’T A DOG IT WAS HIS 4 YEAR OLD SISTER. WHAT IN THE DAMN HELL!!!!

Nicole Kidman attempts to corroborate this insane story that she has never ever heard before with Hugh Grant’s family who don’t return her calls but do facetime her out of the blue in the middle of the night. Sure! And who is Hugh Grant’s mom? TONY AWARD WINNING ACTRESS ROSEMARY GODDAMNED HARRIS. WHAT. Not only does she confirm that Hugh Grant definitely accidentally killed his sister, but he also was never ever upset by it! Sure looks like Hugh Grant is a sociopath! MMkay!

Oh and then in the final moments of this episode Nicole Kidman finds the murder weapon - a sculpting hammer - in her son’s violin case. THIS SHOW IS A FRIGGIN LUNATIC.

Episode 6 - The Bloody Truth

So at this point in this show, I have fully gone. I don’t even know what is real or fantasy at this point: all I know is that Nicole Kidman’s wig is my nightmare. ALSO! She has a new midweight duster coat and it is the absolute most outrageous - a silk embroidered number you can literally wear NOWHERE EXCEPT FOR THE MURDER TRIAL OF HUGH GRANT.

The main concern in this episode is how Nicole Kidman’s son happened to get ahold of the murder weapon. So he just found it....in the beach house fire pit?!?!?! WHAT A DUMB PLACE TO PUT A MURDER WEAPON WHEN YOU HAVE AN OCEAN INCHES AWAY TO FLING IT INTO! Even dumber: this show wants you to believe that this 12 year old kid would have the wherewithall to put this murder weapon through the dishwasher - TWICE!! Vulture and I both say NAH to that.

Anyway, Nicole Kidman’s wig which is somehow pushed back with clips unknown spends a lot of time in a robe (or a coat? WHO KNOWS AT THIS POINT) making secret phone calls to Lily Rabe (who I am happy is back because she’s kind of the only fun part of this show). WHAT IS NICOLE KIDMAN UP TO?!?!?!

Much like Big Little Lies season 2, it all comes down to Nicole Kidman taking the stand. BORING! Hugh Grant is all but gonna win this thing and then Nicole Kidman gets up there and totally backs him up...until she is cross examined by the prosecuting attorney (WHO IS OLD PALS WITH LILY RABE) and magically knows all about Rosemarry Harris’s facetime! Now everyone knows that Hugh Grant is a child murderer and sociopath! AND HE IS PISSED!

The final sequence of this show is just far too insane to even fathom BUT basically before definitely being found guilty, Hugh Grant texts his son and they meet for breakfast but then breakfast turns into a car chase upstate! It is never explained how Nicole Kidman would allow her son out of her sight OR how Hugh Grant wouldn’t already be tailed by cops but whatever! Also not explained: how Nicole Kidman is able to issue an Amber alert for her kid and then get into a GODDAMNED HELICOPTER and follow Hugh Grant north and then land on the very bridge he’s about to jump off of but WHO CARES!! THIS WHOLE SHOW IS WHO CARES BECAUSE IT TURNS OUT HUGH GRANT WAS THE MURDERER ALL ALONG JUST LIKE WE THOUGHT IN EPISODE 1 AND EVERYTHING ELSE HAS JUST BEEN A MIDWEIGHT DUSTER COAT FASHION SHOW!!! ALSO THE WIG SUCKED! GOODBYE YOU TERRIBLE STUPID SHOW!

Verdict: Doesn’t Wurq

#undoing #undoinghbo #nicolekidman #hughjackman #donaldsutherland #helicopters #edgarramirez #midweightdustercoats #nightmarewigs

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bethanyrob-archive · 4 years

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Beth had spent a long day unpacking her few belongings in her new, tiny studio apartment. She had spent little time exploring her new home, and all of her time at the hospital or unpacking her things. The blonde loved the location of her apartment. It was right near The Grind which quickly became her new favorite coffee shop. She was excited to finally be able to take a break and head out for a run. What she really needed to find was a gym. She hadn’t gone this long without a gym membership in a while and running just didn’t hit the same as lifting weights. Tying her shoelaces, she headed down the stairs of her apartment building and set her FitBit to “Run”. She took a deep breath as she opened the door before starting into a light jog. She would do this for 2 miles before finding herself in a part of time she was unfamiliar with. She stopped in her tracks before looking around her to try to find anything that looked vaguely familiar. She sighed, knowing that she got too lost in her music that she wasn’t keeping track of where she was going. She pulled out her phone. 1%. Fuck. Looking around her, she tried to find someone who could help her. “Excuse me, can you help me? I’m new here and kind of lost.” she said, with a small frown.

#reallife.start #hello plz love my baby

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feverinfeveroutfic · 3 years

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chapter one | welcome to new york

Sam made her way out of the house again, but that time with a towel slung over her shoulder; on her other shoulder was a canvas hand bag which held her brushes and her paints, as well as a few little white canvases. Those two little photographs tucked inside of her bikini top stayed in such a snug place that she almost forgot they were there by the time she had stepped out the front door back out to the hot sun. She slipped on her sunglasses once the bath of sunlight washed over her head and bare trim shoulders.

There was a pathway on the right side of the house, which led down to a little clearing; beyond that was a narrow pathway to the water's edge. She moved about the sand to keep it out of her little slip ons. It didn't seem that long ago, and everything from the past few years felt like such a flash and a blur. She could still feel them touching her and she swore that they both were going to be with her until one of them dropped dead. And yet they still slipped away from her, right through her fingers.

Sam stopped at the clearing for a second to adjust the towel on her shoulder, and to fix the lock of hair behind her ear. Too hot to do anything else. She knew there was a tree down by the waters to protect her from the sun.

Those photographs never budged from their hiding places in her bikini top. At one point, she took a look down at her chest and the pieces of yellow and blue fabric. Alex hidden away in the left, Joey in the right. That was exactly how she took them aside when it all started out. They were both on either of her arms and she managed to balance it all with her artistry and her social life.

It was a year ago when she met Joey and she was renting out an apartment in the outskirts of New York City. That was how it felt, anyways, as if it had just happened.

She had moved all the way out there from the second place she lived in following Lake Elsinore, Carson City, about three years before to live the artist life full time. A long way from home and yet she was willing to go forth with it all. Over two thousand miles and with the clothes on her back, Sam had settled into the neighborhood of New York City. It was some time later she met Alex.

And then she met Bill.

She went with Bill instead and there were moments wherein she questioned as to why she went with him instead of the two of them. She even spoke to one of her old friends before she left for the West Coast again, and Aurora asked her what had happened between her, Joey, and Alex. She replied with something that she couldn't exactly recall, but she went with him instead. He charmed her and tugged her away from them, at least that was how she saw it in hindsight.

There was a part of her that didn't want to think that, given her new home life. She was everyone's mom there in Lake Elsinore, and she was acting as Matilda and Cassie's mother. There was no way she could turn away from all of this. There was no way she could look at all of this and turn her back from it all, and head on back to New York City. For all she knew, someone had already taken her old apartment.

Aurora had begged her to return to the Big Apple, and yet she couldn't. Sam could still hear the tears in her voice. She looked down at the big rock on her right ring finger glimmered back at her like a hot ember from a fire. She couldn't return to that funky little neighborhood outside of the city.

She was stuck. She was stuck in a marriage that, deep down, did nothing for her anymore. And yet if she could bring Aurora and her fiance Emile out there for at least a visit, it would be a bit more bearable.

Aurora! She missed that whole circle of artist friends, but she missed her especially, because she was easily Sam's closest friend there in the City. Her jet black hair and her milky Japanese complexion, and the way in which she laughed that resembled to a pair of wine glasses tinkling together.

If there was any compliment she could give to her return to Lake Elsinore was painting and making art down by the surface of the waters. The noise of the city had fallen away into the silence of the mountains and the gentle white noise of the waters. And yet, she couldn't help but yearn for it all back again.

She recognized the willowy tree down by the water's edge, and she shuffled past a pair of low scraggly shrubs. Everything was so dry, even standing down there by the water; so dry that it made the crown of her head itch a bit. The hot sun beating down on the crown of her head didn't help matters, either.

She stepped over a dead tree branch and set down her hand bag on the smooth surface of the rock. She lifted her sunglasses up from her face and rested them atop the hot crown of black hair. Sam took a seat on top of the rock so the shade protected her from the hot sun.

She thought about Joey in particular, given he was the first one she met in the City. She set the canvas on her lap and rested the soles of her feet within the edge of the shade. One of the first things Joey had given her was a black and silver anklet, and she knew it was still in the jewelry box in the bedroom. She kept it tucked away in that little box and she wanted to keep it there forever. Keep it there forever, much like how that photograph of Joey had to be hidden away from the rest of the world.

Before she picked out one of the narrow brushes for herself, she reached into the right side for the photograph of Joey. It was so small, too small to do anything with, but it was better than nothing. It was better than having no way to see his round, sweet face and his black curls. The same went for the photo of Alex: she could see the gray sliver at the front of his head, the full tip of his nose, and his little Mona Lisa smile.

She had moved into that small studio apartment near the Bronx, about half a mile from the freeway. Nothing fancy, just a little two bedroom apartment with a view of the skyline from her window. Around then, she was still insisting on going by her full name of Samantha. The choice was either Los Angeles or New York, and she had been avoiding the former. Four years spent in Nevada and she vowed to never return to the Golden Empire. It simply didn't feel like an appropriate place for an up and coming artist, and it was all too familiar no less. It was that inner feeling about leaving home and traveling about the place, to see the world for herself and do whatever she pleased. The evening in which she was deciding whether or not to leave the little place in Carson City, she spotted the place in the listings and she knew it was perfect. She took the offer and she knew it was a new chapter for her.

Within a few days, she picked up everything she had and travelled that distance, alone. Even though her parents would show up within a day or so to help out with her settling into her new place, but she would go at it alone. The first plane ticket out to New York City and she found her rental car in the airport parking lot. She set one foot after the other down on the sidewalk before her.

It was a four storied little building of white stucco and with black trimming. It made her think of those old fashioned hospitals from the turn of the century. She strolled up the steps and made her way into the front lobby. There she met up with Emile St. Vitus, the landlord at the time. He was a young heavy guy with his disheveled black hair and his smooth milky skin.

“Samantha Shelley, right?” he asked her with an ever so slight Southern twang.

“That's my name,” she replied to him, and she couldn't resist the grin on her face.

“You got here pretty quickly,” he confessed to her as he rummaged through his black coat pockets. “I wasn't expectin' you for at least another few days.”

“It's just me,” she assured him; she knitted her eyebrows together at his feeling around for something. “What're you looking for?”

“Your key,” he replied. “It might be in back in my apartment.” He gestured for her to follow him back into that bottom hallway. She closed the heavy wooden door behind her, and it let out a sharp squeak all the while. That front lobby was cozy and narrow, perhaps no bigger for the width of a couch for someone to bring one in for their place. To her right stood a narrow stairwell with a wooden banister and steps covered in brand new dark carpet. The whole place smelled of lemons.

“Right this way,” he said to her again.

“Where are you from, by the way?” she asked him; she brought her head closer to his ear so he could hear her.

“Me?”

“Yeah.”

“New Orleans. I've lived in New York City, down in Manhattan, since I was five years old, though.”

“I was going to tell you—I like your accent.”

“Well, thank you. I haven't been in the Big Easy for a long time, but sometimes I'll slip sump'n out like 'darlin'' or 'y'all.'” Emile stopped before the third door on the left side of the hallway, and he took out the key from his jeans pocket. He pushed the door open.

“I'll wait right here,” she told him as she hung there at the doorway. It was a bit of a task, though, because of the luggage she had been carrying around for a time, but she was willing to let him delve around the place for that key in question. She adjusted the strap of her hand bag on her shoulder. Her bags rested down by her ankles, and the one holding her clothes stood further into the hallway; the inside of her fingers were tired from carrying them around.

“If you ever need anything, I'll be right in here,” he assured her.

“Sure, sure.”

Sam watched Emile shuffle through papers on the heavy dark wood coffee table. She glanced about the front room, which looked cozy and warm even in the face of the warm evening outside with everything closely knit together about the floor. One thing that caught her attention was the black crucifix on the opposite wall right in front of her. The body and arms of Jesus was lined with a tiny bit of gold leaf, but enough for her to see it from clear across the room.

The sound of someone kicking the bag full of clothes caught her ear. She turned her head to see a slender young guy with long jet black curly hair stumbling forth. He caught himself and stood upright. He turned around to show her his raised dark eyebrows.

“Oh, god, pardon me,” he said to her in a broken voice.

“Oh, no, it's okay,” she assured him as she dragged it closer to her feet.

“I didn't see it, I swear,” he sputtered.

“It's okay, I promise,” she reassured him with a wave of her hand to him. She noticed his large liquid brown eyes, his straight pitch dark eyebrows, and his prominent nose with a gentle kink in the bridge. He was rather handsome with his slightly rounded face and his chubby little apple cheekbones. All chubby and round in the face, but his body was slim and lanky, even delicate. His hands were large, almost like paws, complete with slender trim fingers.

She looked down at his sinewy thighs, clothed in tight black jeans; she dropped her gaze down to his knees, his slender lower legs, and his feet, the latter of which were donned in black Chuck Taylors. He had on a little black leather jacket with the zipper tugged part of the way down his chest to show off his olive green shirt.

“It's okay,” she repeated to him again. “It's not like I have anything fragile inside of there.”

“I hope not,” he said in a soft voice; he had bit of a New York accent, but it was a bit more distorted in comparison to the Brooklyn one. It almost sounded like he was saying “naw” when he said “not”.

“I swear,” she insisted.

“You swear? Like... fucking hell? Like that kinda swear?”

She giggled at that, but it also made her squirm a little bit. This strange man must have noticed the nervous look on her face because he swallowed and scurried away from her. She watched him go down the corridor, all the way to the very end. He ducked inside the room there and closed the door, and all Sam could think about was what she did right then. It was awkward, for sure, but he got a laugh out of her. The way he moved stayed with her: he shuffled about the carpet and he swayed his hips from side to side with each step. Or perhaps it was just her imagination and her aloneness talking and she fixated on something that could give her some kind of great reward.

Emile emerged from the other side of the front room with something silvery in his hand.

“Samantha?”

She turned her head and he stood before her for a second to hand her the key.

“The key was hidin’ behind the remote control, if you can believe that. Anyways, I’ll talk more later, but right now, I haveta run. I’m positive you know where your place is.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah. Thank you, too.”

“Absolutely!” He brushed past her and doubled back towards the front door. Once he was outside, Sam turned her head so she could look down the hall again. That strange man hadn't surfaced out of the room there at the end.

She sighed through her nose, and picked up her things, and doubled back to the stairwell; she kept the key nestled in between her right index and middle fingers. The steps creaked underneath her, even though she wasn't very heavy. She reached the landing to catch her breath. She was on the third floor, which meant she had to take that next flight of stairs, complete with all those things weighing her down.

She fetched up another sigh and picked it all up again. She lugged it all upstairs to that second studio on the right side of the corridor there; she set her things down and let out a low whistle. Once her heartbeat calmed down, she slipped the key into the hole under the doorknob. The small click was the sweetest thing she needed to hear. She let the door swing open before her so she could pick up her things yet again; she lugged it all into the apartment, complete with her nearly stumbling on her shoelaces.

Sam caught herself and set everything down on the floor, right up against the wall. She sighed again and looked about the spacious front room; on the far side of the room was a doorway and a closet; in front of her was another doorway. She poked her head in through that one to find the tiny kitchen combined with a little nook which, she knew could be the dining room. She doubled back across the floor to check out the other room, which she knew was going to be her bedroom; right in front of her was the bathroom. The whole place had that new room smell, and she knew the place had been repainted.

“Perfect,” she muttered to herself. “Home sweet home.”

The first thing she needed was a bed, even if it was just a makeshift bed like a spare cushion, or a few spare ones. She picked up her hand bag, and doubled back to the front door, and locked the place up for the time being. Moved to a new place and had no bed to sleep on afterwards.

Sam descended the stairs, and spotted that strange dark man at the front door. He watched her walk closer to him; his brown eyes fixated on her even though she was walking at a normal pace.

“Hey,” he said to her in a low voice.

“Hi,” she greeted back to him as she held onto the strap of her purse.

“I'm still sorry about earlier,” he blurted out with a bow of his head; she glanced down at his feet, right as he cocked his left foot inward a bit.

“I assure you it's okay,” she assured him. “Really, it was just full of clothes.”

“Well, and that stupid joke I said to you, too—” He shrugged his shoulders a little bit. “—I felt like I made you uncomfortable.”

“No, no—you got a laugh out of me. I promise.”

“Yeah, yeah...” He shifted his weight at the sight of her.

“I have to get a bed,” she told him.

“D'you just move in?”

“Just moved in. On the third floor.”

“Ah, that's cool! I was just helping someone move, too. Right down the hall here.”

“That's cool,” she echoed him.

“Yeah, it's—it's really cool.” He swallowed and shifted his weight again. She dropped her gaze to his chest and his stomach.

“So, uh... you got anyone comin' to help ya?” he asked her.

“My parents are coming tomorrow, but—I don't have any place to sleep, though.”

“True, true...” He lifted his gaze past Sam's crown of dark hair to the hall behind her. “...oh, there's Frankie!” She turned around to see the tall lanky guy with long nappy black hair down past his shoulders and thick bangs to accentuate his olive shaped face. He approached the two of them with a smirk on his face and his hands clasped together.

“Hey, Joey—who's this young lady?”

“I just moved in,” she told him as her heart hammered inside of her chest. “I—I need a bed.” She ducked past the guy in front of her, Joey, and headed outside before Frank could say anything. She headed down the front steps back to the sidewalk.

Alone in the Bronx, a girl alone in the brand new big city, but she spotted a furniture shop up the street. She hoisted her hand bag again and walked at a brisk pace down the sidewalk. She reached the crosswalk, right when the light turned red so she could stop and think for a second.

Sam looked back to the apartment building, and she thought about those two guys. It was just an awkward encounter, it was nothing she could think about too much. Although Joey was kind enough towards her that she could perhaps nod it off as nothing more. She couldn't think too much about that other guy, Frank, given she only looked at him for five seconds. But then again, it had to be from the fact she was a girl from the West Coast having relocated in the Big Apple.

The light turned green and she pressed onward across the dark pavement, right across the street. Another crossing. Another round of green lights. She reached the furniture shop there and ducked into the side with the beds. If she could climb into one of them and sleep there, she would do that.

She thought about her parents, and she wondered if her mother would help her pick out everything. An artist and often times she questioned her ability to pick out things that looked good. Her wardrobe was drab with lots of black, and her hand bag was a nice shade of soft beige. She eyed a little twin bed, the surface of which rose up to her waist. She set one hand on the top and put her weight into it.

It was the first bed and yet she was already sold on it. She reached down to check the price. Perfect!

And now something to put on top of the bed. She wandered through the room in search of sheets and a blanket. The place was bigger on the inside, much to her surprise.

She turned a corner and spotted Joey and Frank checking out towels. She gasped at the sight of them. Frank turned to see her with a stunned look on his face. Joey was saying something all the while.

“So, you've got—” He stopped in his tracks and turned to follow Frank's gaze. “—hey.”

“Hi?” she greeted him, and she couldn't resist the smirk on her face.

“Didn't expect to see you here,” he confessed, and showed her a smirk in return: she noticed a little gap on the right side of his teeth.

“Um, me, neither.”

“Guess we were right behind you,” Frank told her with a nod of his head; his accent wasn't nearly as prominent as Joey's distorted one; she spotted a piece of gum tucked on one side of his teeth.

“Yeah, I guess so, too. Um—” Her mind went blank and Joey ran his fingers through the roots of his curls, right on the crown of his head. “I—needed a place for my head.”

“I do, too,” Frank added with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Do you—do you need any help?” Joey offered her.

“Well—like I said, my parents aren't going to be here 'til tomorrow, so... yeah. I could use a hand.”

“Why didn't they come with you?” Frank asked her.

“I needed to put up the money and boogie out here quick,” she explained.

“You're not from around here, are you?” he continued, and he knitted his eyebrows together.

“It's okay, I'm not, either,” Joey assured her.

“California,” she replied, and they both gaped at her.

“Wow, long way from home,” Frank remarked.

“I was born near the L.A. area, but I lived in Carson City for four years. It was just—time for me to leave and start a new chapter, though.” She turned her attention to Joey. “You're not from here, either?”

“Sorta,” he clarified. “I'm from upstate. Frankie—” He gestured towards him. “—is from here in the Bronx so—ya got any questions, ask him.”

“And—if I head out to upstate, I can refer back to you?” she asked him.

“Absolutely!”

“Oh, yeah, you do anything upstate, Joey's your man,” Frank explained. “What's your name, by the way?”

“Samantha. Sometimes I go by Sam, though.”

“Sam, and not 'Tha?” Joey cracked.

“'Hand this over to 'Tha',” Frank joined in with a smirk on his face; that coaxed a giggle out of her. And then Joey's expression turned serious.

“So seeing as you're alone, let me reiterate—do you need any help?” he offered her.

“Do you guys wanna—help me?” She was taken aback by it. “You know, I don't want to impose.”

“You're not imposin',” Frank assured her with a shake of his head and a tucking of a lock of black hair behind his ear. “We're both moving so—you and I need all the help we can get. That's why we were both shocked to find you were here by yourself.”

“Movin' sucks,” Joey added. “Especially when you're going cross country like that.”

“Yeah, Joey moved from Oswego—his hometown—to be closer to New York City last year, to this little town called Kingston.”

“It's right up the road from here,” Joey pointed out, “like about an hour north from here. It was either there or to Camillus, outside of Syracuse, and it was like—I gotta be closer, you know?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah...” Sam's voice trailed off as she wondered why he had to be closer to New York City from an even more mysterious place such as upstate New York.

“But even though it really wasn't that far, it was hard,” Joey continued, “I was beat once I got settled into my new place. Like really, I lay down to go to bed and I was asleep before my head even hit the pillow.”

“That is tired,” she agreed with him; and she folded her arms across her chest, “you know, come to think of it—one time, my dad was helping a friend of his move to a new house—not very far, either, like to the other side of town—and he was so tired by the end of it, he actually fell asleep standing up.”

“Oh, well, I got nuttin' on him then,” Joey teased her, and that brought a little smile out of her.

“Anyways, I found a little bed for myself—over there—” She pointed to the other side of the room. “—by the beds. A little twin. Now I just have to find sheets and blankets and a pillow—you know, all that crap.”

“Hey, me, too!” Frank's face lit up. “You wanna do that together?”

“Sure, why not? I'm not very good at picking out things like that, though.”

“I'm not, either,” he assured her. “But—let's see where it goes, though.”

Indeed, Frank and Joey led Sam into the upholstery section of the shop to help her out, and also for her to help the two of them out. She lingered behind them as she searched about the shelves for anything that caught her attention: she slipped past the two of them so as to reach the end of the aisle with the bedding and the bed sheets. She gathered herself when she spotted a set of blue satin and a comforter that looked as though it was made of velvet. She tucked it underneath her arm and then searched about the shelves for a pillow.

Frank and Joey's conversation behind her caught her ear but she was more focused on finding a soft pillow, a soft place for her head.

Frank burst out laughing at something, but Sam ran her hand over the surface of a plush bright pink pillow. Like petting a cat.

“Oh, girly!” Frank remarked; she turned her head to find him walking towards her. “That's so girlish, it's badass.”

“It's soft, too. Think I'll take this one...”

She scooped the pillow off of the rack and tucked it underneath her free arm. Both her arms quivered with soreness from carrying such heavy bags down the block to her new place, but she was more than willing to carry her new bedding back to the front.

“Hey, Sam I am—” Joey called after her. She turned to see him holding up a set of black sheets next to his head. “—what do you think about this?”

She ambled over to him to check them out for herself.

“Black Egyptian cotton,” Frank added.

“Ooh, lovely,” she remarked. She noticed a pair of furled throw blankets tucked under his arms, one under each arm. “What you got here?”

“A couple of blankets that, I'm not too sure how to pair them with these black sheets,” he explained. He held up the brown plaid one under his right arm, followed by a black and white one from under his left arm.

“The one in your left hand,” she quipped within a second.

“You like this one better?”

“Yeah, it looks like it fits the sheets better,” she remarked.

“Alright! This was easier than I thought.” Frank set the other blanket back onto the shelf.

Sam didn't hesitate to return to the front of the shop. She told the young clerk she had picked out the twin on the other side of the room and she wrote down the number on a pad of paper in front of her.

“She also needs it tonight,” Frank joined in.

“Okay! What's your address?” the clerk asked her.

“I'm right down the street,” Sam replied, “that apartment building after the stoplight.”

“Blackwood Villas,” Frank clarified.

“Apartment thirty two,” Sam added.

“Okay... I'll get a couple of guys down there in a bit,” she assured her with a final scribble on the paper.

Once they had paid for their new bedding, Frank and Sam stepped back outside. Joey followed suit with a towel tossed over his shoulders.

“I needed a new towel,” he explained.

“Frankie couldn't get towels, but you sure could, though,” Sam cracked.

“Exactly! That's what he and I were talking about earlier.”

The three of them walked together back to the crosswalk and then to the apartment building; Sam continued to linger behind the them, but she still stayed close with them given she was the newcomer. Frank ascended the steps first and held the front door for both her and Joey.

“Well, thank you to you both,” she said with a tremble to her voice.

“And thank you,” Joey told her as he adjusted the towel over his shoulders like he had been sweating out the whole day.

“By the way—if you want or need anything, I'm right down the hall here,” Frank told her.

“I'm sure I'm going to need you,” she pointed out. “'Cause—you know. Moving sucks.”

“Movin' sucks,” Joey echoed with a shrug of the shoulders.

“What're you gonna do?” she asked him.

“I think I'm gonna go get sump'n to eat,” he told her. “I'll see you tomorrow, Frankie.” He turned to her with a nonchalant look on his face. “And you have a good night, too.”

“You, too, Joey,” Sam replied, and that was when the two guys from the furniture shop arrived with her new bed. “I'll be sleeping comfy tonight!”

"Oh, and by the way, welcome to New York," Frank declared. "Enjoy your stay!"

"I think I will," she assured him.

#chapter one #fever in fever out #fever in fever out fanfic #also on ao3 #fanfic #fanfiction #anthrax #anthrax fanfic #joey belladonna #frank bello #long reads #text

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galaksijaalma · 3 years

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The Thread

A red ribbon was hanging from the traffic light, fluttering in the breeze. She watched it curve and collapse on itself, then elegantly straighten again. One end was frayed, as if something had been torn away from it.

Suddenly she felt a pressure on her right shoulder, as if someone was trying to get her to turn around. However, she was alone in the car. The hand on her was insistent in pulling her back, but fortunately the light turned green and she stepped on the gas, pushing the event from her mind and thinking about the day ahead of her.

The city passed her by in a blur and she was pulling into the hospital parking lot before she knew it. She changed into her scrubs quickly and went to the nurses' station for her morning report from the night nurse. All of her patients were stable, so she could begin with her normal routine.

Walking by, checking the vitals, she noticed one of her patients' hands was hanging outside of the duvet. She went closer and took the unconscious woman's hand in her own and placed it back under the covers. She could've sworn she felt the hand squeezing her briefly, as if to thank her. She ignored the feelings overcoming her, of seeing and holding her hand instead. Brushing it away, she signed the patient's documentation and filled out the vitals report.

The day went by as it always did, and soon enough she was giving her report to the afternoon nurse and getting ready to leave. On her way out of the lobby, she stopped by the coffee machine to grab one for the road. As she waited, she noticed a shabby light fixture swaying slightly from the ceiling. It looked like it was seconds away from dropping down and shattering all over the floor. She felt a faint breath of air on her neck, as if someone was trying to whisper something into her ear. The machine beeped and she was pulled back into reality, grabbing her coffee and hurrying off to her car.

Arriving back to her little studio apartment, she pulled her phone out of her pocket and noticed a missed call from her dad. It had been weeks since she last spoke to him, and this was the fifth missed call... she couldn't ignore him anymore. She sat down at her kitchen table, preparing herself for the dreaded conversation.

He picked up quickly and sounded cheerful enough, but she could detect the undertones of worry in his voice. He just wanted to check in, see how she was doing, how work was. Of course, everything had been great and normal and ordinary. But he didn't buy it, and asked about her seeing things again. Seeing her. She couldn't handle this line of conversation, so she made up an excuse about being tired and hung up quickly. The conversation drained her, so she decided to just take a bath and relax.

She lit her favorite candles and turned on some classical music. As the hot, foamy water filled her gray stone bath, she braided her long hair in an updo and took her clothes off. She put on a silky black robe and tied it loosely around her waist. Stepping closer to the mirror, she looked at her black eyes and wondered when the spark in them had dimmed so much. She pulled her pink, full lips into a smile, trying to bring some emotion back to her eyes. They just stared back blankly, contrasted by the ivory paleness of her skin. The very same ivory her skin had once been, before...

She blinked a few times and faced away from the mirror. The robe was suddenly uncomfortably tight around her waist, so she untied it and felt the silkines of the long sash between her fingers. It was soft, but strong, made to not tear under pressure. She slid the robe down her narrow shoulders and it pooled by her feet. Stepping into the almost-too-hot water, she layed down and closed her eyes. The water was always so calming, so inviting, so tempting. She slid in deeper, until her chin was touching the water. A little more, and her whole face would be submerged. She could just fall asleep... and finally find peace.

She shook her head to clear it of the intrusive thoughts and opened her eyes to look at the ceiling. It was slanted and covered in tiny light installations which looked like stars. There were so many of them, and she would try to count them each time she felt overwhelmed. It worked and soon she was calm again. Getting out, she dried herself off and put the robe back on. The sash remained, forgotten on the floor. She blew the candles out and went to bed.

She woke with a start, unaware of the time of day. She was having another nightmare. She was trying to save her, but she failed again and she succeeded. Just as she did that day, when...

Something felt wrong. She lived alone, but it didn't feel like she was alone right now. She looked around the room, now bathed in a twilight glow, and nothing seemed amiss. Her coat was still placed on the back of her desk chair, her scarf on top of it... except the scarf was knotted in a strange way. She could've sworn it wasn't when she took it off earlier.

Trying to get up, she realized she wasn't able to move. It was as if someone was holding her by her midsection, pulling her back. Panicking, she clawed at her white sheets with both hands and legs and suddenly managed to wriggle out and stand up. Looking back, nothing was there.

She stood there for a moment, then turned around and walked to her little kitchen in the corner. Making tea, she was trying to forget whatever had just happened.

She sat down at her desk and decided to try writing in her journal. It was something the therapist said would help her after she... after her mother died. She'd given it a fair try, but it just seemed so pointless. How could a journal help her get over her mother's suicide? How could it possibly help her forget what she saw in her bedroom that horrible day?

She was going to try it now though, so she took her pen and opened the notebook to a clean page. She tried, but words were escaping her. Instead, she drew a little peony and closed the book, angry at herself for thinking it would help with anything. She finished her tea and stared at the journal in front of her, annoyed and frustrated. She decided to get dressed and go out for a walk instead.

The next day at work was more of the same. She was walking down the hallway, going to see a patient, when she saw her shoe was untied. She bent down to tie it, but the laces kept untying themselves no matter what she did. A weird sense of dread was creeping up her spine. She finally just tucked them into the shoe and went about her day.

Time passed by quickly, and soon she was in the changing room putting her clothes back on. She tied up the belt of her coat and grabbed her bag, going outside to her car. The drive home was supposed to be quick, but there was more traffic than usual. Her car was becoming a little stuffy, and the belt was squeezing her ribcage strangely. She was finding it kind of hard to breathe.

She loosened it a little, but the air was still so stale and stifling. She decided she would go for a walk to breathe in some fresh air as soon as she parked her car. She left her purse inside but grabbed her phone and made her way towards the little hill near her apartment.

There was a swing hanging from a tree in the middle of the woods. Who knows who put it there or when. It was just a piece of plank tied up by white rope to a large branch. It seemed sturdy but creaked loudly as she sat on it. Her legs dangled and she couldn't push off the ground to start swinging, so she just moved her legs back and forth, hoping for it to start somehow. The cold air pinched her cheeks as she looked at the fog around her. The same fog that persisted through the past few days and seemed to seep into her pores and find its way into her brain, clouding up her thoughts.

She breathed it in now, beckoning it to make her forget herself completely, to give her a moment of peace. A moment free of thinking, free of troubles, free of herself. Lately, that had been the only thing she couldn't escape from. She'd constantly made excuses to go for a walk, or a hike. She'd come up the hill, into the woods and roam around. But she just couldn't escape from what really bothered her, because she kept carrying it with her everywhere she went. It was like a heavy pressure on her chest, except it came from within. No matter what she did, it never went away.

She looked at the branch now and thought about Ophelia climbing that tree and then singing as the water carried her away into a different world. The fog was everywhere and the pressure in her chest was overwhelming. The swing creaked above her so loudly she barely heard the leaves rustling behind her. Footsteps.

She closed her eyes, trying to calm her beating heart. No one was really there, she knew that. No one was there, she kept repeating. The footsteps were getting closer and closer, when they suddenly stopped. A hand was at her shoulder again, and she saw the gruesome picture of that day clearly. She tried opening her eyes, but she couldn't. She was forced to relive it all again. Coming into her mother's bedroom, seeing her lifeless body hanging from some rope type thing from the window. She screamed noiselessly and ran to her, feeling her cold body under her hands. She placed her on the bed, seeing her stiff hands and pale face, blue eyes still open as if she was looking directly at her. Her lips were pulled back in a hideous grimace, as if she was smiling in death. She was gone. She was gone and no one could save her now. She would never be coming back.

Her eyes flew open and she stared at the naked trees in front of her, trying to forget the scene that had played out before her eyes yet again. She jumped off the swing and started half walking, half running back home.

Dropping her jacket on the floor of her bedroom, she tied her hair up in a bun with a piece of ribbon and went to lit the candles in the bathroom. As the warm water slowly filled the bath, she took off the rest of her clothes and stepped in. The water was a little too warm, but she welcomed the feeling, letting it envelop her. She knew what was coming. Laying down and breathing in, she slowly closed her eyes and waited for it.

She suddenly felt a hand on her shoulder and opened her eyes. She was still in her apartment and no one was there, yet she felt the unmistakable pressure of someone holding her by the shoulder. She tried getting up, but her other shoulder was now being pushed down as well. Not understanding what was happening, she looked frantically around the room. The pressure moved down her arms as panic was setting in. Someone was holding both of her wrists now, but no one was there with her. As she opened her lips to say something, a hand left her wrists and was over her mouth now. She tried to fight off whatever or whoever was attacking her, but the entity was much stronger than her. The water was becoming deeper and deeper, enveloping her whole body like a physical manifestation of the fear she was feeling. What did this being want? What could she do to save herself? What does—

Suddenly, it pushed her head down, under the surface, into the watery embrace. She now felt the familiar pressure in her chest tightening, but she couldn't scream or fight. She tried grasping at the water around her, her hands now free, but there was nothing left to grasp at. Her chest was tightening as she stared at the white ceiling of her bathroom above her. There was no point in fighting, she suddenly realised. The thing was overpowering her in every way. She looked at the little stars on the ceiling, trying to count them, as a sense of calm started to overtake her.

One, two, three, she couldn't hold her breath anymore.

Four, five, she breathed out.

Six, seven, eight, she gulped down the water.

Nine, ten, her chest ached as the water entered her lungs.

Eleven, and the pressure in her chest disappeared, replaced by the feeling of a fire burning.

Twelve, thirteen, and she could see the ceiling no more. The stars were now everywhere in the darkness around her.

Fourteen, and she couldn't even remember what was happening anymore.

Fifteen, and she stopped counting. She was with the stars now. She was one of them.

#short story #the thread #ribbons #paranormal #Mother #my stuff #my story #horror #Scary

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patchwork-panda · 4 years

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If A Moment is All We Are (5.1/?)

This chapter is REALLY long so I split the text ver into 2 parts for Tumblr.

AO3 link: here

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Story type: Romance/Drama/comedy

Pairing: Dazai x OC/reader (Dazai is endgame, fic is long-running and will also feature Kunikida x OC)

OC (Kusunoki Kyou) and Ability are based off of "The Story of Your Life," written by Ted Chiang, aka the basis of the Amy Adams movie "Arrival."

Rating: M for Blood/violence/themes of depression, anxiety, suicide TW: The second half of this story will deal more heavily with themes of suicide, depression/anxiety. *No major character death will occur*

Story follows OC as she joins the ADA, partners up with the detectives to solve various cases around Yokohama and develops feelings for Kunikida and Dazai (Dazai endgame).

Written for those who want an immersive ADA experience :)

Updates every Sunday evening around 6pm PST

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It wasn’t always like this.

Okay, maybe it was.

For as far back as I could remember, the visions had always been random, random events I would see of the future. If I was in physical contact with someone, the visions would be from their future. If I wasn’t, then the visions would be from my own life. Sometimes when I was really stressed, the visions of my future would actually come in the form of a dream, like in manga or novels.

Perhaps that was the best way to explain how The Story of Your Life worked; it was like taking out a book, keeping a finger against the pages and flipping until that finger finally caught on a single page. Then, flip open that page and read the first paragraph that jumps out; the book was the person’s life and the paragraph was the event, a single scene from that person’s future that I bore witness to.

The visions didn’t always show me death, blood and despair.

In fact, the very first vision I had was that of a puppy—a cute little thing my friend Kiko gifted me at my fifth birthday party. I must’ve seemed shockingly unsurprised (and possibly rude) to Kiko and her parents, but I couldn’t bring myself to explain that I’d seen her giving me this puppy half a year ago.

In retrospect, the puppy vision had been great. Sure, it took some of the fun out of a surprise gift but it was still a vision about a puppy. Honestly, if my visions were nothing more than glorified versions of baby animal videos, I’d be perfectly fine with that.

Maybe then, I wouldn’t be left with this overwhelming fear of my own Ability.

I used to be able to touch people, shake their hands, and hold them. In the beginning, “The Story of Your Life” only activated with a prolonged touch...

At first, “prolonged” meant more than ten seconds. That meant getting to play tag in kindergarten, going over to friends’ houses and having sleepovers. Normal stuff. My life didn’t even change all that much when ten seconds shrank to seven some time around middle school; I was able to play contact sports and go out on shopping trips without incident. Seven seconds became five halfway through high school. Again, no need to make lifestyle changes. I could still hold hands with friends, so long as it didn’t go on for too long and I was still able to have my first kiss without seeing even a hint of my boyfriend’s future.

And then, college. Five seconds was no longer doable. It became three at best and just before I’d become a shut-in, even an instantaneous touch was enough to trigger my Ability. By then, however, I’d gotten pretty used to having the visions, so I remained relatively unbothered when I’d see a vision of the barista breaking up with his girlfriend when I got my morning coffee. In other words, managing my Ability was no big deal.

Or so I thought.

About six months ago, my visions went from being an occasional distraction to a panic-inducing nightmare. I still wasn’t sure why...

Maybe it was just luck of the draw. I’d only seen good things, mostly, for the first ten-plus years at least: faraway cities, weddings, and graduations. Every once in a while there would be a failed exam or a lost wallet but overall nothing too out of the ordinary for an otherwise regular teenager to see.

Maybe it was just a sign of the times. As I got older, so did the people around me, so the more likely it was that they were entering that phase of their lives where things could start to go south. Or perhaps their previous lives were just catching up to them.

Or maybe, it was karma finally catching up to me. I’d be lying if I said that I’d never used my Ability for personal gain before. There were a few exams I managed to ace with the help of a well-timed touch of the hand and a few pitfalls I’d managed to avoid through a combination of sheer luck and a decently fast reflex. Perhaps six months ago, whatever granted me this power finally decided that I had a good run and it needed to end in the worst way possible...

And it all happened so quickly.

I never had much control over my visions to begin with and they never really bothered me before but suddenly, they were invading every part of my life—and with each vision I saw, the accuracy increased. My dreams became more vivid than ever; I would see things that had yet to occur and before I moved out, my college roommate would wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of my screams. I started passing out in the middle of class if someone so much as tapped my bare shoulder and when I came to again, it would be a minute before I remembered where I was and what I was doing. I was starting to consider seeking some kind of help until one day, I finally saw my first death.

It was horrible. I was at dinner with friends on a group date and I hit it off with one of the guys. He wanted to take me to the movies that weekend, and being relatively new to college and Yokohama in general, I agreed. Then, smiling, he’d held my hand just a millisecond too long and I saw it: him getting hit by a car while crossing the street.

I tried not to think about it too hard. Sometimes the vision were wrong. There were times when they’d been off by just a fraction of a second and because of that, I still had hope. Maybe there was a chance that things could change last minute, either by a miracle or by someone’s sheer force of will. But as time passed, my anxiety grew. He was running late and I didn’t like it. Finally, I spotted him at the intersection and, frantic, I waved him down just as the “walk” sign lit up and he started crossing the street.

That’s when it happened.

A single black vehicle, no license plate, ran a red... and ran into him.

I would remember seeing his body flying into the air for the rest of the semester.

After that, I started taking an alternate route to class, just to avoid going anywhere near the part of campus where he’d died. It wasn’t that people were whispering behind my back or accusing me of having a part of it—I just couldn’t handle the memory.

That was the first death.

The first.

It was as if some kind of floodgate had been opened. I had never seen death before that day but after...? Death became all I saw. I briefly shook hands with a foreign exchange student and immediately saw an image of a middle-aged woman lying in a hospital wing. The woman had been the student’s mother and I heard she died a week later. I could not have been responsible for the cancer that claimed her life but I spent weeks feeling guilty about it anyway. There was another incident where I accidentally, and literally, bumped into my English teacher on the way to class. I saw his brother being hit by a bus downtown. His death was announced a month later, on the morning news. When I saw it, I broke down in the middle of the cafeteria and my friend Eri had to take me home.

And it just kept happening.

I became afraid to touch people. I began wearing longer layers during the summer months and started keeping to myself. When even a brush of the hand or bumping into people on public transit could trigger a vision, I started wearing gloves. I got a lot of stares on the subway for wearing itchy winter gloves in the subtropical heat and the knitted fabric made gripping the overhead handholds difficult so I ended up changing to disposable nitrile instead. I got less stares for that but unfortunately, I eventually had to give up public transit entirely when I got squished between two tourists and had a panic attack in the middle of the car.

But giving up public transportation put me in a tough spot. My dorm was pretty far from campus and I didn’t know how to drive. If I really wanted to, I could walk but that would take far too long and make for far too many chances to see another person’s death. And I really didn’t want to ask anyone for a ride because that would just mean more questions and more explanations I wasn’t willing to give.

And yet somehow, I managed to make it work for a time, waking up early to go to class, avoiding hangouts in-between classes and running back to my dorm as soon as I got a chance. But I was still attending classes with lots of people in a crowded lecture hall and living with roommates in a dormitory building. Ultimately, the stress of trying to avoid people while also trying to keep up with increasingly difficult classes caused me to start having nightmares. They were frequent and they were bad. And I knew that these were all things that would someday happen to me: me and a friend being held hostage in an abandoned apartment building, a woman in a suit and sunglasses pointing two machine guns directly at my face, a man didn’t recognize growing steadily colder in my arms as I screamed for him not to leave me...

That following morning, I woke up sobbing—crying as if I wished I was the one who had died instead. When my roommate tried to comfort me, I jerked away out of instinct and immediately realized I’d made a mistake.

And that was it.

I couldn’t it take any more.

About a week later, I left the dorm and found myself a tiny studio apartment, one that I could still afford on my shoestring budget and more importantly, one where I could live completely alone.

Soon after, I dropped out of college and became a shut-in. In true shut-in fashion, I shunned all contact from classmates and friends in case someone came to visit and decide they needed to barge in because they couldn’t—shouldn’t—do such a thing. My apartment had become both my sanctuary and my jail. So long as nothing changed around me, none of the horrible visions would come to pass.

Thankfully, a month into my new lifestyle, the nightmares stopped.

So long as nobody came near me, I wouldn’t have to witness another death with my waking eyes...

I still remembered the night I decided to stop going to class. It was the same night I looked out the windows and saw my own reflection, touched my fingers to my face and pulled them away, confirming that it was indeed blood and not salt tears that dripped down my cheeks. I started avoiding mirrors from that day on and threw myself fully into watching anime, joining fandoms and drawing commissions, anything to distract myself from the invasive, self-destructive thoughts that grew stronger whenever I looked into a reflection of my own eyes.

Yes... Staying was the only solution. If I never stepped out of the apartment again, the world would be spared the sight of my hollow eyes and bloody tears... And I—I would be spared the curse of witnessing things I should never have seen to begin with.

***

“So you’ve been holed up in your apartment for the last six months doing...”

Kunikida frowned, tapping his pen against his chin.

“What exactly? Rent in Yokohama isn’t cheap. How have you been supporting yourself?”

“Commissions,” I explained. “I started watching a lot of anime and playing video games and fans pay good money for drawings of their favorite characters, original characters or even pictures of themselves in a stylized form.”

Summing up my Ability meant practically telling these two my entire life story, not just recalling the events of this morning, and I had to commend the detectives’ patience for sitting through what I would’ve considered a pretty long-winded explanation. Now I was even telling them how I’d stretched my budget and supplemented my allowance.

I held out my hand.

“If I could have some paper and something to write with, I could show you, if you like...?”

Dazai immediately ripped Kunikida’s notebook and pen out of his hands. Ignoring his partner’s protests, he held them out to me and, throwing his arm out to keep Kunikida from taking back his own things, sat back to watch me draw. Within seconds, a coarse outline appeared on the pages, followed by facial features: eyes, nose, hair—a minute later, I handed back Kunikida’s notebook, a quick, rudimentary pen sketch of each detective on its two open pages.

As one, they leaned in to stare at it.

“This is pretty good,” Kunikida said, looking up at me. He squinted down at the page, tracing the lines with his fingers, mumbling, “Does my hair really look like that?”

“It is... isn’t it?” Dazai agreed, rubbing his chin.

As Kunikida puzzled over the drawing, a mischievous glint appeared in Dazai’s dark eyes.

“Kusunoki-san... Have you ever considered a career as a sketch artist?”

At once, Kunikida shot him a warning look.

“Don’t even think about it, Dazai,” he growled, “Making decisions without the President’s approval—”

“I’m not making a decision, only a suggestion,” Dazai declared. “And what’s wrong with a good suggestion?”

“Dazai...”

Ignoring Kunikida entirely, he turned to me.

“Really, I don’t know how we survived like this for so long. We’re a detective agency, one of the best in the city and yet, we don’t have a sketch artist... It’s a shame, don’t you agree, Kusunoki-san? What do you think? Interested in a change of career?”

“Wait... are you asking me to join you?” I asked warily, looking from one detective to the other. “Why would you want someone like me? I can’t fight. I don’t even know how to shoot a gun.”

“I’m asking you,” Dazai said pointedly, “if you would be interested in becoming a sketch artist. I mean, it just so happens that we are in dire need of one—(“No one said that!” Kunikida roared)—and you happen to have the exact skill set we are looking for! Not to mention you’re an Ability User... Just think of all the people you could help.”

“I don’t know,” I mumbled, looking away, “Wouldn’t someone like me be more of a burden than an asset? I can’t even control my Ability, much less use it to help people—”

“But what if you could control it?”

I froze. Having had no control of my Ability for my entire life, the possibility hadn’t even occurred to me...

“There’s a way?” I asked, looking back up just as Dazai’s grin turned into a triumphant smirk. “How?”

“I could tell you,” he drawled, his smirk growing even wider, “But it’s a closely guarded secret. You’d have to join us if you want to find out... Of course, I’d be more than happy to vouch for you if you’d like to apply—”

“Dazai—!! You—!”

Kunikida was on his feet.

“We can’t just offer a job to every stray Ability User we rescue from the Port Mafia! Atsushi was one thing but—”

“Oh my, so you’d be perfectly fine sending a nice girl like her back into the jaws of the Port Mafia? Really, I thought better of you, Kunikiiiiiida-kun—”

“That’s not what I said!”

“So you agree, we should take her in?”

Kunikida’s face was in his hands.

“Look, it’s not that I don’t want to help, but it’s not our decision to make! And besides, she’s clearly been through enough, what makes you think she would agree to—”

“I’ll do it.”

Kunikida’s mouth dropped open. He looked stunned.

“You will—? Wait, no, I never said I agreed—”

“Let me apply,” I said, looking him firmly in the eyes. “I want to help people. I’ve always wanted to. Isn’t that what you do here at the Agency? Use your special Abilities to make their lives better?”

“That’s true,” Kunikida admitted, folding his arms over his chest, “But this can be a dangerous job. Especially for a non-combatant. You almost died today! Why do you want to help people so bad? In fact, let me ask you...”

His eyes flashed from behind his glasses, his expression fierce.

“Why did you go so far for a neighbor with whom you weren’t particularly close?”

I glared right back.

“I had to save her.”

“But it sounds like you already did, when you pulled her off the sidewalk—”

“That’s not good enough!” I burst out, startling Kunikida. “How could I say I saved her, truly saved her, if I knew she was going to die in a week and I did nothing to stop it?”

My hands clenched into fists.

“That doesn’t count. Saving someone means seeing it through to the end, to fully committing yourself and doing what’s right! Isn’t that what you did for me? What both of you did to bring me here today?”

Kunikida was struck dumb. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Dazai got to his feet.

“I think it’s about time I take Kusunoki-san back to her apartment,” he said, making his way to the door, his long tanned trench coat swishing elegantly as he moved.

He patted Kunikida on the shoulder.

“I’ll let you think about what we should tell the President later.”

Kunikida instantly flushed an angry, embarrassed pink.

“Dazai, you—”

Ignoring his partner, Dazai called out to me.

“Kusunoki-san? I won’t be taking you back to your original apartment tonight. We’ll be going to one of the Agency’s safe houses instead. After everything that’s happened, I wouldn’t be surprised if the Port Mafia had staked out your building and had someone ready and waiting for you at home. And if you’re wondering, Yamazaki-san is on her way to her nephew’s place in Nagano, so you won’t need to worry about her.”

“But what about my things?” I asked, “What am I gonna tell the landlord?”

“It’s already been taken care of,” Dazai replied, opening the door for me. “Shall we?”

#dazai x oc #dazai x reader #bungou stray dogs #osamu dazai #doppo kunikida #fanfiction

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animeniacss · 4 years

Text

6 Years - Hoseok x Reader - Chapter 22 - Speaking Up

Synopsis: 6 years. That’s all it can take to take another look at someone and see that they have completely changed. You were once an eager 20-year-old, with your dreams all in view, and Jung Hoseok at your side to view them with you. However, after a break up the end of your junior year of college, everything seemed different. Now, you’re a recently divorced single mother of two, and your life is nowhere near what you thought it would be. However, after reuniting with Jung Hoseok, you may just be able to capture a little bit of that exciting youth you once knew so long ago.

Feat. BTS Members, Nayeon (TWICE), and Yuna (itzy)

Genre: Romance, SingleMother!AU, Past Relationship, Drama, Some Depictions of Violence/Domestic Abuse

Length: approx. 4.1k words

Chapter 22 - Speaking Up

Hoseok had been trying to call you after his final lessons for the day wrapped up, and he sent his students off. That was about 15 minutes ago, and he hadn’t heard from you. He had walked into Jimin’s studio, where he was wrapping up with his lesson, thinking that maybe you had finished your conversation with Weong-Bin and had made your way to the studio. However, when he stepped in, he only saw So-Hee, sitting with the other mothers and happily bouncing a giggling Hyo Bin on her knee. He hurried over to her, getting her and the other mother’s attention as she looked up.

“Hey, Hoseok. What’s going on? You look frantic.” She said.

“Have you heard from her?” he asked curiously.

“No, I haven’t yet. She said she would call after she talked with Weong-Bin.” Hoseok sighed.

“Really? Jeez, I didn’t think this would take so long. I told her not to let him into the house.” He scooped Hyo Bin up and turning back to the lesson, seeing that Jimin was just finishing up, and having the girls do their cool down. He sighed, not wanting to worry Min Ja too much, he decided to just pull out his phone and try to call you one more time. As he heard it ring, he saw the girls finishing up and hurrying over their mothers after another successful practice day. He heard your voicemail begin to play and groaned. “Hey, it’s me. Min Ja just finished her lesson and we’re heading home. Please call me back so I know you’re alright.” He said, hanging up.

“Mr. Hobi? Where’s Mommy?” Min Ja asked curiously.

“Mommy’s home, so we need to hurry up and get home, okay?” he smiled, taking her hand.

“But-.”

“We can get changed at home, just put your shoes on.” He said. Min Ja nodded, sitting on the floor to slip off her ballet flats and slide on her sneakers. “Okay, perfect.” He said happily. He turned to So-Hee, who was getting San-Ha ready as well. “I’ll call you.”

“Please, do.” She said, waving him off as he led the girls out of the dance studio. She sighed, fixing her daughter's shoes as she grabbed her bag.

Hoseok didn’t really run, but he wasn’t taking the scenic route either. He held Min Ja’s hand tightly and clutched Hyo Bin in the other as he hurried down the street, around every necessary corner, and into the building, practically breaking the buttons of the elevator with how hard he pushed them.

“Mr. Hobi, what’s wrong?” Min Ja asked curiously. He glanced down at the little girl, who was looking back up at him with wide eyes. “Is Mommy okay?” Hoseok let out a frustrated sigh, squeezing her hand gently. Before he could answer, due to his hesitation of what to say, the elevator dinged on their floor and Hoseok hurried out. As he turned down the hall, the sight before him made him almost collapse. At the door were what looked to be a buff policeman with dark hair, and a tiny yet fit policewoman with her brown hair tugged up into a ponytail. There was also a paramedic. They were knocking on the door, calling out to whoever would answer from inside, but obviously getting so response.

“Oh, God.” He gasped, hurrying up to the door. “What’s going on here?” he asked curiously. The cops looked over at the man who was out of breath, holding two children.

“We got a call from a neighbor about loud fighting coming from this apartment. We just arrived here a few moments ago but whoever is inside won’t answer.” Hoseok felt like he would faint right then and there if he didn’t have Hyo Bin in his arms. “Do you know the tenants?”

“I’m her boyfriend, and these are her kids.” For a moment, he released Min Ja’s hand and dug in his pocket, pulling out his key. As he opened the door, he felt his heart racing. He had no idea what he would see when he opened the door, but as he did, he called your name. As the door opened, he saw the contents of the shattered flowerpot up against the wall. Then, he called your name again. Walking in, he saw you laying on the couch, just barely waking up to the sound of your name being called. “Oh, thank God….” He sighed, hurrying into the living room. “Hey, are you okay?” You sat up on the couch, rubbing your head as you looked around.

“Hm? What’s going on? Why are you all yelling?” You asked curiously. When you saw the cops at the door, and Hobi at your side, you blinked. “Where are the girls?”

“They’re over here.” One of the cops, a female, said simply, motioning to the girls who were standing at her side. The other cop walked over to you.

“Are you alright? We got a call that there were sounds of fighting and stuff breaking here. Is everything alright?” As you fully sat up, you felt your head throbbing. Your cheeks were now kind of numb, but still sore, and your back was killing you.

“I’m fine.” You said simply. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“Not as bad as it looks? Your face is all red and your body is shaking…” Hoseok said softly. “What happened?”

“Weong-Bin and I started arguing and he slapped me a little bit…” you groaned, rubbing your head. “I hit my head….”

“I can tell.” The cop said. He stood up, calling over the paramedic. “We’re going to check for a concussion.” You blinked, watching as a lanky man crouched down in front of you and put a flashlight in your eyes. Almost immediately, you flinched back and covered your face.

“It looks like it might be a concussion. You seem to be sensitive to light. We should get you to the hospital.” The paramedic said.

“The hospital?” You heard Min Ja gasp, and you looked over. She was holding Min Ja as both of them stood by the cop. “I don’t like the hospital.”

“You don’t have to go, sweetie.” The cop said gently. “We just want to make sure your Mom is feeling okay.”

“I’m okay, I just need to rest up.”

“No way, you need to go to the hospital,” Hoseok said quickly.

“Hobi…”

“You need to go, you could seriously be hurt, you said you hit your head and you might have a concussion!” He gently took your hand into his and kissed it. “Just to make sure you’re alright.” You were silent for a few moments, and you felt Hoseok grip your hand tighter.

“…Okay, fine.” You said softly. “Will you be able to stay here with the girls?”

“Of course. I’ll be here.” He assured. You nodded, standing up quickly. The quickness made your head spin and you groaned, holding your head in your hands. “Easy.” Hoseok quickly stood up. As you got your bearings, you saw the girls, still standing by the door with the female cop. With a deep breath entering your lungs, you walked over to them and knelt down.

“Be good for Mr. Hobi, okay?”

“Why do you have to go to the hospital?” Min Ja asked softly. You could see the distress in her eyes. Pursing your lips, you ran a hand through her hair.

“It’s a long story. But the doctors just want to make sure I’m okay. I’ll be home before you know it~.” Standing back up, you turned to the cops. “Do I need to ride in an ambulance?”

“If you’d like, we can have it pull upfront.” Nodding, you grabbed your purse and followed the paramedic out the door. Min Ja noticed something fall out of your purse and looked around. She must have been the only one to notice and knelt down to pick it up. The female cop stayed behind to talk to Hoseok for a few moments, while the male cop left with you to get your statement on the drive to the hospital. Hoseok watched the door close behind you and heard footsteps disappear down the walkway as he turned and answered the cop’s questions.

The ride to the hospital was silent. The male cop, who you learned was named Myung-Dae, even offered you his jacket to use for some warmth. The paramedic checked your vitals as you shared the events of what happened, what Weong-Bin said and did to you, and how you ended up here. When he asked you for some family contacts, you refused to give any. The last thing you needed was an “I told you so” speech to give you an even bigger headache.

“I’ll come back tomorrow morning and talk to you again; see how you’re holding up and get the results of any of your tests for the record,” Myung-Dae said, looking at you as the ambulance came to a stop. You blinked.

“I’m going to be admitted?” you asked, looking up at the paramedic.

“You got beaten up pretty badly. They’re going to want to help you overnight while the tests process just to make sure nothing flairs up or anything after the fact.” Myung-Dae said. Once the ambulance stopped, Myung-Dae hopped out while you were guided out by the paramedic and led inside the hospital to officially check-in.

Upon entering the hospital, you were admitted and given even more tests. You really didn’t understand why, but they wanted to be sure that, other than a minor concussion, there were no cracked ribs, or anything else other than just some bruises on your face and back. So, you were stuck being wheeled to different parts of the hospital, getting X-Rays and tests done. They took pictures of your back, of your face and arms, basically of your entire body so that they could document any bruises that you may have to show exactly what he did. It was annoying, and every time someone offered you a pity look as they passed by, you only felt worse.

When the tests were done, and you were wheeled back to your room, which the nurse had so graciously dimmed the lights for you, and you crawled into the bed and lied down, covering your face with your hands. Your body was still aching, even after all this time had passed. Your back was throbbing; you hadn’t seen it yet but you knew that it was bruised to hell. Who knows, maybe you did have some cracked ribs. All because of your absolute stupidity. All because of your-

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone calling your name. You sat up, only to hear the voice getting closer and closer. Other voices were heard as well, shouting at someone to stop running down the hallway screaming. As you sat on the edge of your bed, the door flung open. Taehyung stood at the door; face flushed as he gasped for air. His entire face beat red, either from running or crying or both. Before he could say anything else, his legs buckled.

“Tae!” You gasped, getting out of the bed and hurrying over to him. As you knelt down to help him to his feet, he quickly stopped you.

“Get back in bed, are you nuts!? Don’t worry about me, I’m okay…” letting out another choke for air, he rose to his feet and took you with him, leading you back to the bed. “What happened to you!?”

“I’m fine.” You assured.

“Yeah, that’s why you’re in the hospital!” He pouted. “Hoseok called me and told me Weong-Bin beat the shit out of you!”

“He didn’t beat the shit out of me.” You scoffed. “He knocked me around a bit, it’s not a big deal.”

“Stop trying to defend him!” Tae snapped. “The doctor told me you have a concussion, and possibly broken ribs and you don’t’ think that’s a big deal?!” You flinched at the sound of his voice, looking away from him. Taehyung blinked. “…I’m sorry…” he said softly, sitting down beside you. Being careful not to hurt you, he quickly wrapped his arms around you and gave you a hug, nuzzling his head into your shoulder. Your arms wrapped around him too, hugging him tightly as you heard him let out a shaky sigh. “I got here as fast as I could. I was so worried…Please, don’t say this isn’t a big deal.”

“Okay…” you said softly.

“What happened?”

“He beat me up and said I was trying to ruin his family by being with Hoseok. He was the one manipulating Min Ja to think that Hoseok was trying to ruin our family too…that’s why she’s been so anxious.” Taehyung lifted his head from your shoulder, and you smiled a bit. “I tried to talk to him but he just exploded….” Taehyung looked at your cheeks, seeing that they were red, hints of bruising showing up in certain areas. You blinked, noticing that he was looking. “Is it bad?” you asked. “…I’ve been too scared to look in the mirror…”

“It’s…it’s red and bruised…” he said softly. “Do you want me to try and get you some ice or something?”

“No, I’m fine.” You said.

“I’m going to kill him.” Taehyung said. “I always knew he would escalate to physical violence! How can he do something like this?!” He sighed. “Tell me you’re pressing charges.”

“The cops are coming back tomorrow to talk to me again and get all the test results.” You assured. “…I never thought I’d have to press charges like this.”

“Well, it’s about time. He shouldn’t be doing this to you. He shouldn’t have done it when you were married, either. He needs to finally pay for what he’s been doing.” You nodded, and Taehyung pulled you back into a tight hug. You sighed, putting your hand on his hair, trying to calm him down. The last thing you wanted was for him to be upset on your behalf.

-----------------------

“How is she doing?” Hoseok asked phone pressed to his ear as he paced the living room floor.

“She’s doing well. I stayed until visiting hours ended. From what I gather, they’re giving her something to eat and she said she’s going to bed.” Taehyung hummed. He was just getting into his car as he spoke to Hoseok. “But she seems to be feeling better. She’s just upset about everything that happened.”

“Well, I don’t blame her.” Hoseok said.

“How are you doing? Need me to come by?”

“Nah.” He said. “I think I can handle it. I got the girls to go to sleep without much issue.” He beamed proudly as he heard Taehyung laugh on the other end. “Just head home and get some rest. Thanks for checking up on her.”

“Of course. Let me know if you need anything.” Taehyung said. After saying their goodbyes, Hoseok hung up the phone and sighed, plopping down on the couch. The girls were a bit of a handful tonight, Min Ja’s anxiety only increasing as she watched her mother be led off to the hospital. She kept trying to ask Hoseok about it all thorough dinner and their bedtime routine, but he kept saying that you would tell her all about it when you got home. It was an answer she didn’t want to hear, but she eventually gave up and stopped asking him. She simply lied in her bed, nuzzling under her covers, and gave a quiet ‘Goodnight’ before Hoseok left the girls to sleep. He gave you a lot of credit, being a parent was really difficult, and this was the first time he ever really got to experience it first-hand. Babysitting was never intense, but he was never left alone and expected to cook dinner, get the girls ready for bed and get them to actually fall asleep on his own!

“Ahhhh…” Hoseok got up, running a hand through his hair as he began pacing the kitchen and living room. He was running too high on adrenaline to simply sit down. All he could do was think about you, sitting in the hospital room all by yourself, probably absolutely devastated and sore. He wished he could be there with you, but he had no choice but to wait until tomorrow when the girls were in school. “What am I supposed to do tomorrow when they wake up tomorrow and she’s not home? I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle it…” Groaning, he glanced towards the shattered flower pot. “Oh yeah…I need to clean this up…” He grabbed the dustpan that was in the kitchen and walked over, squatting down and dusting up the contents that were scattered all over.

I can’t believe he thinks he can just break stuff in a house he doesn’t even own. Hoseok thought to himself, a pout forming on his lips. I know this had to have scratched her up a bit, poor thing… As he continued to clean up the mess, he stood up and brought the full dustpan to the kitchen, dumping the contents into the garbage can. Just as he finished, dusting his hands against his pants, he heard footsteps behind him. “Hm?” Quickly, he turned around. Standing before him was Min Ja. Her hair was a bit messy from tossing and turning in her sleep, some of it sticking out in various directions. She was tugging at her nightgown at the bit, biting her lip as she hid behind the little wall that divided the kitchen and living room entrance.

“Oh, Min Ja?” he hummed, walking over to her. He knelt down, but she stepped back a bit. “What’s wrong?”

“Mommy isn’t home yet…” she said softly. “I can’t sleep…I keep thinking about Mommy…” Hoseok smiled a bit, offering her his hand. She took his hand and he stood up, walking her to the couch. As both of them sat together, Hoseok ran a hand through his hair. “Do you want some milk or something?”

“No…,” she said softly. “…Will Mommy be home soon?”

“I think she’ll come home tomorrow. The doctors just want to be sure she’s okay, I told you that already.”

“She looked bad when she went. She had bruises and marks…”

“I know…” he said softly.

“Do you know why?” she asked curiously. Hoseok felt his heart begin to race. He had no idea how to explain domestic abuse to a five-year-old! Should he even try?! Crap…

“Well, that’s not something that I can tell you. That’s something only you’re Mom can tell you…”

“Why?” she asked curiously.

“I just can’t. It happened to you Mom, so your Mom has to tell you. Would you be happy if I told people something about you? Something that maybe you wanted to keep to yourself?” Min Ja shook her head. “Exactly. So, for now, all we can do is be happy and nice to Mommy when she comes home tomorrow until she’s ready to tell us what happened, okay?” Min Ja nodded, finally starting to understand. “…How about you? Do you feel okay?”

“No, not really…” she said. “My head always hurts now…and I cry a lot more. And when you and Mommy put me to bed, it takes a long time before I can go to sleep…” Hoseok sighed, rubbing her back gently. She crawled into his lap and hugged him tightly. “I’m a big girl, I’m not supposed to cry anymore…” Hoseok chuckled rubbing her back.

“Awww, Min Ja, just because you’re a big girl doesn’t mean you don’t need to cry…”

“My friends in class say I shouldn’t cry anymore.”

“Well, I’m sure one day you’ll see your friends cry too. Everyone cries, even grown-ups.” Min Ja pouted, her arms squeezing around his neck a bit tighter. “Do you need to cry now?” Min Ja shook her head.

“No…I don’t think so…” She hummed. Hoseok nodded.

“You have school tomorrow, Min Ja, so why don’t we cry to go back to bed?” Min Ja was silent for a moment. “I’ll sit with you until you fall asleep, okay?” Finally giving in, she nodded. Hoseok stood up, keeping her in his arms as he walked to the bedroom. Once inside, he was quiet, so to not wake up Hyo Bin. Min Ja crawled into bed, and Hoseok sat down on the floor beside her bed. “There, get alllllll comfy, okay?” he whispered softly, smiling. Min Ja nuzzled under the covers, grabbing her stuffed animal, Bora, and holding it close to her chest. “All cozy?”

“Mhm…” she said softly. “You promise you’ll stay until I go to sleep?” Hoseok nodded, smiling a bit.

“I promise…” Min Ja’s little lips turned into a tight frown.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Hobi…” she said softly. Hoseok blinked.

“Sorry for what?” he asked curiously. He could see Min Ja shift in the darkness and reached a hand out to stroke her hair. “Sorry for what, Min Ja?”

“Daddy…. made me think you weren’t nice…” She finally said, and he could hear her voice crack. “And that you couldn’t move in with us because it would make him sad…”

“Oh…” Hoseok said.

“But you are nice. Super nice….” She said. Hoseok chuckled a bit. “And Mommy always said when I do something wrong, I need to say I’m sorry…” Hoseok smiled. “I want you to live with us….”

“…. Yeah?” he asked softly. Min Ja nodded. “I would absolutely love that…” He said happily. “I’m sure Mommy will be happy too…”

“…Oh!” Min Ja gasped, sitting up, and startling Hoseok a bit. She reached over to her end table, turning on the light. It flooded the room, and Hoseok heard Hyo Bin groan in annoyance, though she didn’t wake up. Min Ja lifted up her pillow, before pulling out a small picture. “This fell out of Mommy’s purse….” She said softly, handing it to him. He took it into his hands, looking down at it. As he stared at it, an eyebrow raised a bit. It was…a sonogram? One that showed just barely the first few weeks of pregnancy. But, as he looked up at the date, he noticed something. The date was…waaay to early to be a sonogram of Min Ja. It was…two years too early. He blinked, glancing up at Min Ja, who was just staring at him curiously.

“…This was in Mom’s purse, huh?” he asked. Min Ja nodded. “Do you know what this is?”

“It’s a baby…” she said. “Mommy showed me ones with me and Hyo Bin. Who is that?” She asked curiously. Hoseok glanced back down at the picture, feeling his mind begin to race. Why on earth was he just seeing this now?! How come he wasn’t told that she had another baby?! Where on earth was the other baby?! “…Mr. Hobi?” He glanced up. “Who is it?”

“…I don’t know…” he said softly. “It’s not you, and it’s not Hyo Bin…”

“Oh….” She blinked. Hoseok sighed, turning back to Min Ja and smiling a bit.

“Alright, time to head to sleep…,” he said, gently laying her down. “It’s really late, and I don’t want you to be tired for tomorrow…” Min Ja nodded, holding her doll tightly as she closed her eyes tightly. Hoseok chuckled. “Want me to stay?” Min Ja nodded, her eyes still closed. “Okay…” he rested his back against the side of the bed, turning off the light and allowing darkness back into the room. “Goodnight, Min Ja…” he said softly.

He wasn’t sure how long he was sitting in the room, but he was a little while. He just kept staring at the picture in his hands. Despite the darkness in the room, he felt as though he had the image burned into his mind. He couldn’t understand it, he didn’t understand how it was fitting together! Once he saw that Min Ja was fast asleep, snoring lightly as she clutched tightly onto her doll, he stood up and left the room. With the door closed, he hurried into the bedroom and turned the light on.

He sat on the bed, finally able to look at the picture in the light. The baby was barely visible, so tiny, probably about the size of a lime. Your name was right on the top, along with the hospital you were at, and the doctor who was giving you the ultrasound. He kept looking back at the date of the sonogram. It was dated exactly 6 weeks…. after he and you had broken up.

….and he was just learning about this now?

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musedblues · 5 years

Text

Hello Again

Part 1 of (maybe 2?)

W/C: 8k

Summary: Gwilym has always been around, somewhere in the background of your fast-moving life. But when summer comes along, you finally slow down enough to take a closer look.

Warnings: Allusion to/ Mentions of alcoholism? Nothing too horrific!

A/N: I’m writing again! Rather, finally getting around to uploading things I’ve had written for ages. There will be a second part to this in the very near future! Please enjoy my hopeless fantasizing, gang! (and don’t be afraid to let me know if you do!) _

You had nearly forgotten all about your past twenty-three years of living, on your rampage through the American desert: and that was your mission... To focus on nothing besides soaking up every the last ray of the blistering hot sun before summer vacation was over, and you had to start senior year of college. You were a history major and initially had big dreams of becoming a librarian or a museum director, so that you could enjoy immense hushed quiet all day before going out with your best girlfriends at night.

You loved to take it easy, especially after a night of partying so hard. You and your friends had established yourselves as the college's most wild group up until earlier this year when you nearly KO'd after staying in the hospital for a month due to alcohol poisoning. You took the school year slow, and when summer came, you piled your three closest friends and took off on a stereotypical road trip. Good, clean fun.

When you weren't driving, your trip was mainly spent poolside, humming along to the static radio Francine toted along with her everywhere. The battery-powered thing would even work in the car sometimes, which came in handy as your vintage mustang wasn't equipped with a port for an aux cord or a radio that worked any longer.

Francine spread her gangly legs across Emma's lap in the back while Tilly sat in your passenger seat, flexing her map reading muscle on a mission to be totally directionally literate by the end of the road trip across the southwest. But then your car broke down forty miles deep into death valley and you all had to cram your belongings and yourselves into the back of a cab. Other friends might not have survived being squished together like sardines. But you made it to the Vegas airport without a foul word between the bunch of you.

Granted, Emma started to cry because the cab smelt of ham and Tilly's beloved map blew across the sandy horizon as you sat on the roadside, waiting to be rescued. You all relied on each other to keep a cool head, like always.

Your three roommates were sometimes too much to handle at once, but over the past three years of college and dates and sickness and flunked classes, you'd be lost without your best friends.

Once you all got back home to California with a bundle of stories to tell and a lot of left over time to fill up, the only thing to do was crash.

Luckily, your brother's fancy new home was the closest and coolest stop. So you decided to take over his pool house like you were still on some kind of adventure.

"How's your brother so well off? And is he well off.. in other areas?" Francine pipped up. She blew away some of her frizzy strands of hair that made her seem like the coolest hippie alive, with a name to match. Her boldness never faltered in style or speak.

"Hm, strange I've suddenly lost my hearing." You quipped, grossed out by the thought of your brother being lusted after.

"Just don't bother him, okay? I'm welcome in the pool house without question so none of you are allowed to mess this up for us!" You informed. Your brother, Daniel, bought the house earlier in the year sometime when a film project he was apart of paid off pretty well. You'd forgotten anything to do with his big winnings in your previously alcoholic state.

"Oh, just go shower! We're gonna search through the movie cabinet and bask in the glow of this projector." Emma beamed.

The pool house was a studio with a tiny square marble kitchen, a living room complete with a bunch over oversized beanbags, and two twin beds hidden in the sunken pit lounge area. The space was designed in the '70s and the golden shag carpet still remained to prove it. This was the faux frat house your brother escaped to when the fancy chandelier in his adjacent home shone a little too brightly for his liking. The best part of the pool house was the film projector and the massive pull-down screen, like a tiny personal movie theater. Though your brother was a bigger fan of dated television series', a few classic films found their way into his collection on the wall-length shelf.

You left the hip space to take a breather in the grey tiled bathroom, taking your time washing off the sheen of dust and sweat your road trip disaster left you in. When you returned to the living room to take Emma's place on the sofa while she scampered to the shower, the girls had popped in some movie of their liking.

"Top End Wedding. I've never heard of it." Tilly called from the floor, crawling around to put the disc in the player. She had already placed the cover back into its rightful spot on the shelf.

"What's that even mean?" Francine wondered, snuggling under a furry blanket.

"Shut up and find out like the rest of us." Tilly offered, plopping back against a florescent bean bag.

You chuckled as the movie started, but turned your attention your cell phone after it started too buzz. There was an email from the death valley mechanic addressing the problems he had to fix in order to get your car running again. You typed back a response in a hurry. When your friend's giggles cut through your focus, you clicked your phone off and turned your attention back to the film.

You'd completely missed the first scene, catching only glimpses of lush green islands and a lady with a broken high heeled shoe. But then a familiar voice spoke up.

"I have to take her to court?" Gwilym Lee was on the screen. Of course, he was. He appeared unmistakably himself... but much different from the last time you recalled seeing the man.

You silently chuckled to yourself, wondering whatever became of your brother's best friend. After Daniel and Gwilym finished grad school together, Gwilym was apparently apart of a few major British productions and a well off guy. But between your focus on college and some extra wild nights out, you'd barely seen your brother outside of holiday celebrations. So Gwyilm was hardly ever brought up in conversation. Or maybe he was, and you were just too maxed out to register. Be that as it may, the blue-eyed man was on the screen now... looking rather grown-up.

"My God he's a catch am I right?" Tilly pipped up, sipping vodka she'd found in the mini-fridge. Did she really think so? Dear old Gwilym?

"Look at him! That actress is so tiny next to him, God. Imagine being pinned between him and a wall." Francine swooned, in her usual lovestruck wonder.

And the intrusive thought was frightening to you. Because it seemed almost appealing. Gwilym hugged you goodbye once, some odd years ago. His strong arms were certainly brought a comfort you could still recollect.

"Confirmation that we're all hot for this Ned character?" Tilly turned her pretty feathery head of hair to you. You were busy bitting your thumbnail and wondering when Gwilym had gotten so buff.

"Huh? Oh yeah, Ned's cool." You nodded emptily.

"Pfft!" Francine spat, sitting up and leaning across a pillow toward you. "Get your head out of your car troubles and look at this fine British hunk!"

"I thought this was an Austrian film?" Tilly wondered.

"He's clearly British! Listen up! Haven't you paid attention during the world's fair week?" Francine rang, lifting her own glass of vodka toward the screen.

Your phone buzzed again and you desperately hoped it was the man who would assure your car was liable and you could pick it up and drive it through the desert some more before summer vacation ended. But instead, your brother's name blinked across your dim screen.

Daniel: Are you in the pool house? Come inside for a second. Leave the sorority behind. (No offense)

"I'll be right back. Pools open! Just don't come in the house!" You called out the rules your brother gave you the first time you stayed here. Your friends groaned. You scurried out the window paneled door and across the stone packed pathway to Daniel's deck. The back porch light was on and its reflection glistened off the pool. Was he going to be pissed that you remembered where he hid the spare key and tell your gang to leave? Did he just want to say hello? If he did, why wouldn't he just come out to greet you?

You knocked a couple of times to warn of your requested intrusion. The kitchen was empty and dark but there was a chatter coming from the living room. Your brother must have had company. Why did you need to come in here?

That's when Vinny and Violet came bounding up the basement staircase toward you in a fluffy flurry. They were sibling Burmese Mountain dogs whose nails were clicking against the cherry wood floor as they pranced below your feet; a very excitable greeting.

"Y/N? Come in here!" Daniel's low timbre was heard in from the living room and the sound of clinking glasses followed. Your brother Daniel was standing from his luxurious leather sofa, smiling and gesturing you into the room. On the other side of the sofa was a man you hadn't seen in years, but had just been reminded of only moments ago.

"Gwil is in town! I thought I heard you outside and we were just talking about you."

Oh my God. He was hot. You tried to stifle your shock at the stone-carved beauty of a brother's best friend that rose to his feet before you.

"Hello, again Y/N! Looking very comfortable." Gwil's voice was silky and wonderfully British. The accent would always catch you off guard. But his enchanting voice only reminded you how silly you must have looked in your sad excuse for pajamas. You wore tattered sweat pants and a torn-up tshirt that bared too much of your collar bone to be deemed appropriate.

And the angelic Gwilym was in well-fitted slacks and a dress shirt, blue eyes glimmering, muscles rippling past his perfect clothes.

"Hi, Gwil!" You chimed, really mustering the strength to sound normal. But what was normal between the pair of you? You'd met him a total of three times.

"Why are you all the way over in this part of town?" Daniel wondered, shifting his weight and glancing at you.

"My car broke down in death valley and your place was closest. Hope it's alright if we crash for the night?"

"I left the pool house key out for a reason! It's never a bother. I like that you're comfortable enough to stay. Roxanne never even comes over." Daniel complained about your middle sister. Roxanne was an unassuming girl with an interest in botany that left her camped out in national parks for weeks at a time. Your sister would talk about plants little to nothing else, besides her terrible crush on Gwilym Lee. A shameless attraction you'd all too suddenly understood.

"How's she?" Gwilym asked with a knowing smile. She could never hide the way she melted in Gwil's presence.

"She's been the movies this year, if that's what you're asking." Daniel chortled. You wondered for a moment if the film your friends had found in the cabinet was one that made it to theaters. Was Gwilym finally featured on the big screen? And did Roxanne really still have that girlish crush?

"She's been seeing a lot of that Max guy, actually. I know because she does, in fact, call me every weekend." You chided, looking to Daniel with a smile.

"Yeah to make sure you're not dead." Daniel retorted. He was never a fan of your wild streak. Bless him. "She's always up to something crazy. Practically Instagram famous." Daniel buffed your confidence, gushing over his very own kid sister.

"I have a few thousand followers, it's really not uncommon." You assured your brother, who'd never gotten more than twelve likes on his own posts.

"Cute." Gwilym smiled. He looked you up and down and if you weren't sporting the world's nastiest pajamas. You'd dare to wonder if he liked what he saw.

"Well I better get back were-" You caught your breath and tore your curious gaze away from your brother's best friend. "...having quite the girls night."

Daniel nodded in response.

"You staying for a while? See you around?" You asked Gwilym. You were a naturally curious girl, and Gwilym Lee was extremely easy on the eyes. Why wouldn't you want to look a little longer?

"Yeah, I'll be in town. See ya around, kid." Gwilym's perfect smile was photograph worthy. But that remark stung. You were just Daniel's littlest sister, to Gwilym.

Later that evening you excused your bout of absence with some white lie about your brother needing help with his dogs after a bath.

The death valley mechanic eventually emailed you with good news, so you text your brother and asked if he could take you through the desert on a mission to get your car back. He happily agreed to take you and to let the girls take over the pool house for the day.

///

Your eyes fluttered open, blinded by the sharp white rays of sun boomeranging off the pool and into the window by your bed. Emma was passed out on the adjacent bed, snoring peacefully. There were more shuffles and chatter from the level above you and you knew the other girls were awake. You heard muted squeals and high pitched whispers floating through the pool house, and among them, a lower voice grumbled.

"Y/N! Ned's here!" Francine's unmistakably excited voice rang out.

"Oh, lovely!" You heard Gwilym let out a far off chortle.

Shit. What! Why? You bolted out of the twin bed and up the couple of steps, feet flying over the inexplicable shag carpet toward the double doors.

Gwilym was dressed for the day, in khaki shorts, a white short-sleeved button-up, and turtle framed glasses hiding the sparkle of his sea-blue eyes. And he was standing in the doorway with that stupid smirk, looking right at you.

"Gwil! Hi?" You reasoned, shouldering past Francine who was clutching the open door frame with her jaw hovering just above the floor.

"I texted you a bunch- but I see you were still asleep." Gwilym grinned, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Is everything alright?" You wondered suddenly. You didn't even care that your hair was sticking in different directions, and the man had already seen your atrocious excuse for pajamas.

"Well, Dan got called into work. Left in a big hurry and asked if I'd help you out today. Fancy a lift? He took his SUV. Left the Buick." Gwil actually smirked, like he was making a sweet deal.

That's when Emma let out a gasp from somewhere behind you. She'd spent the first half of Top End Wedding in the shower, but quickly joined your friends to gush over the main character upon her joining the film

Gwilym's eyes left yours for a moment to glance over your shoulder to the house full of girls.

"Uh... alright." You gave a nervous grin, realizing you didn't really have another option. Daniel trusted Gwilym with his vehicle. If he caught one of your college friends behind the wheel of his car, he'd blow a gasket for certain.

"Uh, give me a minute to get my self together?" You nodded to Gwilym. The pair of you had never really spent any kind of quality time with each other. Only sat beside each other during dinners out with your brother's friends and across the living room sharing jokes. This was very different. Did you trust Gwil?

"Sure. I'll wait here if you lot don't mind." Gwil turned his bright gaze to Francine who's chipped nails were still digging into the open door. The girl gave a subtle nod, watching Gwil creep toward the kitchen counter.

"What the hell is going on?" Tilly laughed as you gestured past her.

"Secrets out! Gwil is a family friend. Please don't freak him out." You groaned, scooting to the bathroom. Tilly gapped at you as you spun into the bathroom to pull yourself together.

After finding an old Sargent Pepper tshirt in your bag and managing your hair into a suitable fashion, you hurried back out of the bathroom to hit the road; praying that your friends hadn't corned Gwilym.

The girls were scattered around the kitchen, leaning against counters with their eyes plastered on Gwil. He was like a wonder of the world. An uncovered treasure splayed out in the open.

You had spotted your sandals by the counter and were stepping into them as Tilly asked daft questions to Gwilym about how he knew me, and just exactly how rich he was. The man answered Tilly with grace and caution. Was he really so easy-going? After apologizing profusely and shooting daggers to your girlfriends it was time to go.

"You can use the pool and the dogs will probably hang out. Francine, you're in charge of disaster prevention!" You pointed your way out of the door, as Gwilym followed with a chuckle. Funnily enough, the brash girl was the clearest head in times of trouble.

Gwilym shuffled toward the garage and as you passed into the musty room, feeling a little sick to your stomach.

"Gwil, are you sure this is how you want to spend your day? I don't want to ask too much of you."

"Oh get in the car. I haven't got a thing to do until Dan gets back tonight. There's no harm in a little road trip, is there?"

"Three hours one way. This is your last chance to back out."

Gwilym was already behind the wheel, buckling his seat belt with a smile. You had no choice but to shrug and scramble in the passenger. At least this ride had a radio.

Five minutes in.

"Where's my turn?" Gwilym panicked, steering the wheel sharply to swerve out of the way of roadkill.

"Next exit. When did you learn to drive in the States? Yesterday?" He was almost too quick to react.

"Ha. Ha." Gwilym produced a dry laugh, speeding up ever so slightly. "Last year. A couple of mates and I spent the summer driving around this very desert, I'll have you know."

"Hmm, I see." You smiled as you tried to picture Gwilym going on some great adventure. As far as you knew, his work was his life. Must be some pretty important pals to have tricked the tall man into having a little long-lasting fun. Was he always so cute when he smiled like that?

20 minutes later.

"It's too late now Gwilym. We're already on the freeway and the next exit is only a private ranch."

"But I want a soda so bad." The Englishman whined. For some reason, that surprised you. You realized you really didn't know this guy at all. But you really wanted too. So you promised Gwilym you'd track down the closest fast-food spot and started into an easy-going conversation.

"What would you be doing today if I wasn't in such desperate need?" You teased but you really wanted to know more about the man. The pretty, pretty man.

"Back home? Probably spending the day at a sports game. Having a few drinks at night. Maybe a film to wrap up the evening? That or working I'm sure."

"Yeah, I'm sure." These were things you already knew about Gwil. But you could have listened to him drone on in that delicatessen accent forever and a day.

"What about you? Still out till the odd hours? Still dating that Rodney fellow?"

You couldn't help but let a snort escape you as you turned your head toward Gwil. Had it really been so long since you'd seen him?

"I broke Rodney's heart three years ago, Gwil. I dated around for a while but it's been a busy time. I've not even had time to drink myself sick all year." You smirked. Gwil let out a shocked chuckle. He was right to do so. You used to have a little too much fun.

"No time to do anything but cram. I've not even been to the movies. What do you know about those?" You grinned. It was his dream to act. You felt a little bad for not keeping better track of the local theater. Surely Gwilym had made it to the big screen by now.

"I heard you saw a certain one last night." Gwil pipped up gently. Ah yes, Francine introduced the man at the door as 'Ned.'

"Yeah, that... We found the tape in the cupboard. Your character was a total catch by the way. Any others I've missed out on?"

Your conversation was flowing, and you felt real true ease between your brother's best friend and yourself. Whether it was circumstantial or genuine, you let yourself sink into an appreciation for the magnetic moment.

"Uh... a few," Gwilym spoke. "Do you like the Beatles?"

"Why were you cast as Mr. Harrison or something?" You giggled at Gwil's change of subject.

"Just wanted to make sure you weren't a fraud." Gwilym smiled, gesturing to your Sargent Pepper shirt.

"I'm no fraud!" You assured. "I love all that old rock and roll stuff." You'd scored tickets to see Ringo Starr before college kicked off. It was the best damn day of your life.

"Good. Let's have at it then, aye?" Gwil managed to uncover an aux chord from bellow the counsel and plugged it into his phone. The man reached out and cranked the radio up to the tune of Do You Want To Know A Secret. And for just a moment as you sang along, you pretended that Gwilym knew you were singing to him.

2 hours in

You stopped at the In-n-Out one hundred miles inward. Gwyilm finally got his soda and a whole lot more. The pair of you split a giant order of fries and traded burgers when you discovered you liked each other's orders better. You both thought about splitting a shake but you convinced Gwilym to get his own. He downed the sweet treat in minutes, but yours sat beading with sweat in the cup holder now. A couple of inches of the frozen drink rippled in a melted puddle as the Buick crept toward a gas station.

Gwilym stood in the heat to fill the car as you disposed of the collection of fast-food trash.

"Should I get more snacks?" You called out to Gwil from across the otherwise empty lot.

"Why don't we just agree to a nice dinner on the way home?" He shouted back. It sounded like a joke but you knew it wasn't. You went on to purchase some sunflower seeds anyway because you'd want to stash some in your car.

"Don't act like you don't want some of these." You prodded Gwils ribs as you both settled back into your brother's car. He shook his head with a grin as you tore open the packet of sunflower seeds.

"You're unbelievable. I guess I'll have a few." Gwil reached a hand out after revving the engine.

"Alright. How much was gas, while we're at it?" You gave the bag of seeds to Gwilym as you reached into your purse for your wallet.

"It's none of your business. My treat, really. Thank you for sharing." Gwil laid the bag of seeds to rest in your lap as he turned the wheel out of the gas station.

"I'll let you have that one but I'll get you back when you least expect it." You grumbled, snatching the seeds for your own again.

"Let's get back to your opinion on American football. We've got a lot to dissect here." Gwilym smirked, hands lose on the wheel, tires steady on the road. He was getting the hang of this yet!

"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours." It was the unsexiest innuendo of all time, but with gentle prodding, Gwil had begun to easily open up to you.

///

The car dealership was just outside Vegas and your beloved mustang was roasting in the hot sun, ready to be driven back to safer grounds.

You practically fell to your knees before the mechanic who ordered special parts and offered you a discount for all your troubles.

"Just follow behind, I know the way back." You smiled to Gwilym, admiring the way the soft breeze tousled his hair. "Thanks again for this." He was really a good sport.

You had settled into your old mustang, fingers fitting into the worn-out divots in the steering wheel. But you cursed when you reached for the radio. You had really been pampered all day, in your brothers Buick, with groovy tunes and a whole lot of eye candy.

That's when your phone rang. It was Gwilym.

The desert road was wide open, but you still decided to put the call on speaker and rest the phone on your dash.

"Hello?" You laughed, checking your rearview mirror. Gwil drove your brothers Buick a safe distance behind. You swore you could see Gwilym's bright white teeth as he responded.

"Hello! I've just realized that I promised to take to dinner, but I can't very well do that with you leading the way."

"Oh, that's what this is about?" You snorted, eyeing the mountains across the horizon.

"Where shall we go?" His voice crackled from your dashboard.

"There's an exit in about forty minutes with a few suitable options. Nothing movie star worthy though." You clicked your tongue, wondering if this was all some fever dream brought on by the ninety-degree day.

"Oh stop it. Is there an IHop? I love IHop."

"You do?" You chuckled. Gwilym hummed with certainty.

"Alright." You spoke up, glancing in the rearview once more. Was he looking? "I'm sure we can track one down."

"Thanks, kid." There it was again, that pesky pet name. You didn't like it at all.

"Am I liable to call you old man?" You jabbed, making your feelings known in a light-hearted manner.

"Whoa now, I'll hang up and leave you alone with your broken radio." Gwil threatened. He remembered your telling him your radio was broken? You glanced in the rearview once more and noticed Gwilym holding up his middle finger.

"Hey!" You laughed.

"Eyes on the road!" Gwilym challenged. There were, in fact, shiny cars popcorning over the horizon.

"Alright, alright! Can you Google and drive? I'll be your eyes." You offered, driving ahead of the man.

"Hang on," Gwilym spoke. You smiled and bit your lip to withhold the burst of joy you wanted to scream out. "I've got one. I'm gonna pass you and take this adventure into my own hands if you don't mind."

You could hear Gwilym smile as his car sped up past yours in an instant.

"See ya at IHop old man!" You shouted, swiping the phone call to end before Gwilym could shout back.

Your brothers Buick zoomed past you and began to blend in with the waves of heat on the horizon. You prayed under your breath that the man leading your way wasn't just a mirage.

///

You sat across from your brother's best friend in a sticky old IHop booth while a family of six and an old married couple filled out the other corners of the restaurant. One waitress floated through the otherwise empty diner to cater to all of you as the sun set.

Gwilym ordered a tea and you warned he was going to be disappointed in the Americanized beverage. He shooed off your comment and relaxed in the booth while you sipped your coffee. You wondered how you ended up here, then you wondered how Gwilym ended up here.

"Have you really just come to town for my brother's silly party?" You suddenly quizzed. Dan threw what he called a "mixer" once every year, where all the friends he'd ever known were invited to drink bourbon and pretend it was fun being an adult. This year was a bit of a house warming party, and your whole family was invited.

"Sort of. I wanted to see him anyway and some other friends around LA." Gwilym offered, resting his head on the heel of his hand while he gazed at you.

"I see, I forgot you were a big rom-com star now." You chuckled. Of course, he was in Hollywood to mingle with other bright eyed up and comers.

But Gwilym just rolled his eyes and smiled as the waitress floated by to fill up your coffee cup.

"The last time I saw you was Easter in 2015, do you remember that?" Gwilym sat up a little, twirling his finger around the rim of his mug of tea. You tried really hard not to notice.

"I'm surprised you do. I was late to brunch and you left not long after I showed up." You recalled. That was when he hugged you goodbye, as he was leaving and you were just joining the rest of your family. He lingered around the dining table to finish some conversation with your father, but you don't remember him leaving.

"'Course I remember. You poured something from a flask into your coffee when your mum wasn't looking." Gwil gestured toward your warm cup and you winced in remembrance.

"Those were the days, huh?" You furrowed your brow even though you smiled, a little sick at the thought of drinking anything.

"They aren't anymore?" Gwil seemed to gently pry, and you weren't about to lie to him.

"No, I learned my lesson in the hospital." You shrugged, hoping to never stay that long on an IV drip ever again.

"What?" Gwilym asked. He seemed genuinely concerned and you hadn't realized he didn't know. Dan would usually warn anyone to keep an eye out on you in case you keeled over like you always used to morning noon and night.

"Yeah, I drank myself silly." You laughed, but it wasn't silly at all. That month was shit. "I haven't drank since January."

"Christ." Gwil shot his wide eyes toward you.

"It's a good thing! I like coffee much more, anyway."

"Than this," Gwil gestured around the eatery, "was the perfect choice."

Gwilym's smile was ultraviolet. You admired him in a way you might have anyone else, but the longer you took in his features, they became prettier by the second. You caught yourself staring, but that was usually the case. What caught you further off guard was the way Gwilym seemed to be just as in tune to your conversation as you were. LIke he really wanted to right here, in the middle of nowhere, with his best friend's kid sister.

He was too good to be true. Why had it taken you so long to realize?

///

That same night, you drove your friends back to your flat to the tune of their incessant teasing. You guessed you'd be shocked if Colin Firth showed up to crash your spontaneous slumber party, after watching Love Actually. So, you couldn't blame them, but you could block them out. You found your mind wandering to the weekend. You found yourself thinking of Gwilym.

Your brother's annual gala was three days later. Your parents swung by your flat and gave you a lift all the way across one town to the next so you could all attend your brother's first party in his new home.

You wore torn up mom jeans and a decent blouse, unbothered by most of the guests sporting their finest black-tie looks, like this was the waiting block for Mad Men auditions or something. Everyone was drinking and the smell alone made your blood curdle. You slinked through plastic Hollywood types and decided you didn't need to drink to have fun, or waste your time mingling.

You wound up in the posh den, in a leather recliner, directing your brother's dogs to do tricks. You got Vinny to start barking at his reflection in the flat screen tv , much to the annoyance of the passing guests. But someone was charmed by your antics. Gwyilm leaned against the door frame with a now-familiar smile.

"Vinny, look!" You pointed to the flatscreen while the giant dog spun around to start whining. Gwilym laughed at you, and you whipped your head to find him watching on, drink in hand.

"Are you having a good time?" Gwilym comically quizzed, scooting further into the room. He sat on the arm of the chair you occupied, holding his glass between his legs. You looked up at the British hunk and smiled.

"We are. Violet just learned to shake hands!" You quipped. The dog bounced over at the sound of her name and sat in front of you, ready to show off her new skills.

"Nice to meet you, lady." You teased, holding your palm in front of your brother's dog. Violet raised her paw into your hand and you smiled as you shook it.

"Well before we call the circus and send you off, you better say goodbye to your family. Your mum's been looking for you." Gwilym laughed, shaking his head as he sipped something dark.

God, how embarrassing. Did she send him to find you? Did she think you were passed out in the bushes or worse? With a pursed smile you stood and left the den to find your mother lounging in the living room with a few other, older guests.

"Oh, this is my youngest, Y/N. A very bright girl." Your mother gushed, grabbing on to your writs and pulling you toward the sofa as some middle-aged blonde lady smiled widely at you. Her name was Dawn and she was busy trying to one-up your mother in housewife points. You just gave a fake grin and spun around to find your father asking about your car troubles.

"It's all fixed and fine now." You assured. Dan appeared on the scene, boasting about how his friend Gwilym was kind enough to take you on that trip. Gwil was sitting back on the sofa, smiling at your father as Dan boosted his ego. But he deserved the praise.

"Gwil practically saved my life!" You pointed, spinning toward where the man was settled onto the love seat. In your classic dramatic flare, you flung yourself into Gwilym's lap without thinking. The time you'd spent with the man had stripped away the layer if unfamiliarity between the two of you. And you would have plopped into anyone of your friend's laps. You made sure to bring your hand to your forehead to ensure your swooning was just for show. Even if you happened to feel a swoop of endearment at the prospect of being so close to Gwil. He was stunning. And his fingers were cautiously hovering around you, as if he wanted to hold you but knew better. And as you scooted out of the man's lap toward the cushion beside him, you swore you saw a hunger in his sea-blue eyes.

"Alright, leave the acting to him, you're no good." Daniel batted your hair on his way across the room at the sound of his name being called.

Moments after you peeled yourself off of Gwilym Lee's lap, your sister showed up. You hadn't seen Roxanne in what felt like ages. On her arm, an unassuming botanist called Max, who seemed to be totally head over heels for your older sister. Boy was he in for a treat.

"Hello, Roxy." Gwilym smiled, resting his glass on the coffee table as he stood to greet your sister. And just like that, the usually demure girl practically melted. You couldn't blame her, not anymore. Not after you caught a glimpse at how warm Gwil's smile really was.

"This, uh, this is Max." Roxanne shoved her boyfriend between herself and Gwilym, a human shield. The equally as meek fellow seemed to look up to Gwilym with wonder in his eye. You realized that no one was safe from doing a double-take. Gwilym was just that great.

The party fizzled out. Before the last guests even left, Roxanne kissed her beau and skipped out to the pool house with you, deciding to spend the night for some much-needed one on one time. You stole some of Daniel's sweatshirts and snacks from your brother's home and locked yourselves into the private little hut in his back yard.

After nearly a full hour of listening to your sister gush over how much she liked Max and how their relationship was taking off, Roxanne got quiet.

"I didn't realize Gwil was in town." Roxanne sheepishly admitted, reaching to the bowl of popcorn between the two of you.

"Yeah, I was surprised too." You realized. "I can't believe you still have a thing for him."

Roxanne laughed and shook her head as if that was all behind her now. But then she bit her lip and looked at you to tell her secret.

"No harm in looking, right?" She shrugged. Roxanne really did seem happy with her new boyfriend. But anyone with eyes could see Gwilym's glow and would probably long to bask in it all the same. You weren't blind to that any longer.

///

Emma and Francine were busy sitting around your apartment doing nothing, terribly bored of it all. Tilly had gone back to visit her family while the summer raged on, leaving the three of you to your own usual devices. Your brother had asked you to stay a little while longer, but he and Gwil took the dogs to a hiking trail and you got bored alone in the pool house after your sister went home. So you drove back to your flat where your roommates decided to waste away together.

"There's nothing good on tv. And I don't wanna go out. Why is nothing fun anymore?" You complained. The days of dancing the night away seemed like a waste of time to you now. There had been lots of fun last year, and the ones before. Maybe too much fun. When you weren't drinking you were asleep in someone else's bed. Casual dating turned into some kind of game. And it all started when Francine challenged you to get with as many people as you could take a shot for. And naturally, you were down to take the drinking challenge, but you took way too many shots that night. And you started zipping through one night stands like it was your job and you needed extra rent. You felt nothing, numbed by so many drinks. And near the end of your manic episode, you thought that maybe the more people you shagged, you'd eventually feel for one of them. But that never happened. Even when you brought some of them home and tried to mold them into a little perfect box.

You had a lot of time to reevaluate in the hospital. You hoped with your new lease on life that meaning would seep back through your cracks. But sitting around your old dusty apartment bored you. Wasn't there any balance anymore? Your phone buzzed you out of deep thought.

Gwil: How'd you get Violet to shake your hand? She won't listen to me or Dan!

You: I'm a dog whisperer. ;)

"We could do arts and crafts!" Emma chirped like a hopeful preschooler.

"It's too hot to think of having fun." Francine moaned, sprawled across the sofa with her upper half sliding down toward the floor.

Your phone buzzed again. Gwilym responded with the meme of the angry-looking cat sitting at the dinner table. You let out a breathy laugh that fanned through your nose. Before you could think of responding Gwilym had sent another text.

Gwil: I'll find out your secret one day.

You: Take a hike!

He should have been trekking through scenic California mountains instead of sending you memes.

"Earth to Y/N! Why are you smiling at your phone like that when we're in the middle of a boredom crisis meeting?"

"What?" You blanched. Had you really been lost in the short-lived conversation between Gwilym and yourself? He was just too good to be true. Of course, you were transfixed by the lad.

"Yeah, who are you talking to? Is Stu back from Ibiza? Are you two hooking up again?" Francine challenged, sitting up on the sofa with a knowing grin.

"God no, not Stu. He stole my underwear. That fucking creep." You shivered at the memory of your very last and longest hookup. Emma grimaced in response, but Francine, like always, wasn't satisfied.

"So who is it then?" The girl's honey-brown eyes filled with mischief as she reached for your phone.

"Why do you think it has to be anybody?" You whined, trying to lean further back before Francine could launch her self toward you. But it was too late, she latched onto your cell like a falcon, and scanned the screen. Her lips turned into a wild smile while Emma turned her head in anticipation.

"It's Ned!" Francine let out a burst of laughter as you dove back toward her to rescue your stolen device.

"Ned from the movie?" Emma questioned.

"What other Ned's do you know, Emma?" Francine rang, allowing you to take back your phone.

"The dad from the Try Guys." Emma shrugged. You would have laughed if you didn't feel your stomach fall away. What was there to be so nervous about?

"Why is movie star Ned sending you memes? How do you even know him, again?" Francine sat straight up against some throw pillows to begin her interrogation.

"When Daniel moved to London for college, he and Gwilym became the best of friends." You sighed, reminding Francine of the name of the man she kept referring to.

"He sent you a meme, Y/N." Francine rose her brows like she was alluding to something more.

"After he drove you across the desert and back," Emma added, pointing your way.

"Yeah, I guess he's my friend too." You gapped. Well he was, wasn't he? Your phone buzzed again and everyone's eyes filled with curiosity as you kept your phone clutched to your chest.

"He's also a movie star!" Francine rang.

"Just because he was in some Australian rom-com doesn't mean anything-"

"What other movies has he been in? Maybe he's loaded and you guys can be Hollywoods new it couple." Emma cooed like she was dreaming for herself.

"I don't know- the last time I saw Gwil was years ago I hardly think-"

"Babe. I can tell you're into him so do away with excuses!" Francine leaned over the sofa to rest a hand on your knee.

"Guys, I'm just now really getting to know him..." You reasoned, trying like mad to pretend his gloriously pretty face wasn't always on your mind.

"He's hot. I'm talking mega beautiful. I don't blame you. And he basically already took you on a date." Francine remained trying to get you to crack.

"Uh, guys..." Emma was fixated on her phone screen when you and Francine whipped your heads toward the girl. She began to squeal through her teeth as she bolted from the pull out bed and skipped toward the coffee table to snatch the remote.

"What are you doing, Emma?" You asked but it sounded more like a warning. She only giggled as the tv buzzed to life. After a quick search on your shared Amazon account, a film from last year started to play.

"Are you trying to tell us that Gwilym is in Bohemian Rhapsody? Wasn't that nominated for a bunch of awards?" Francine focused on Emma who was staring at the screen in anticipation.

"Oh my God." You sighed. Not only did were you turned off by the thrill of seeing Gwil on screen, you felt horrible for not knowing your brother's best friend was in a damn blockbuster. Had you really been so far gone in party land that you were that blinded to the world around you? Francine picked up on your unease and tried to talk you into the spirit.

"He's probably just in the background for a second. But we have to watch it, so, Let's just get it over with."

Emma let out a nervous giggle as an actor opened his eyes on the screen. You literally held your breath while the film crept through the introduction. And then you saw him. Dawning a curly black wig and a smile that belonged to someone else.

"Oh no." You groaned at the exact moment Francine let out an excitable laugh.

"Your boyfriend is Brian May!" She squealed. Gwilym wasn't your boyfriend, but he was nearly identical to the guitarist of Queen. You loved their music. You loved their story. But you had totally missed the posters and promotions for the film that featured Gwil's name in lights. You decided then and there that you would never drink again. You and your friends watched the rest of the film in total rapture. Emma decided the blonde playing Roger was the new love of her life. Francine started to cry when the lad playing Freddie walked out of the doctor's office. You held her hand as the band kicked off Live Aid and when the credits rolled, Emma hit mute and you three stared at each other for a beat, lost for words.

"I sort of forgot all about Ned. He's a proper actor, isn't he?" Francine looked to you like she'd just seen a ghost. You could only muster a stunned nod of exact agreement.

"I just remembered something... my sister in law saw this in theaters like four times. She's totally obsessed with it. Let's call her!" Emma reached across the pull out bed to claim her cell phone before you could stop her.

"No, Emma this is ridiculous! It's not like I don't know Gwil." You reasoned.

"You just said that you were just getting to know him. And trust me when I say that no one knows an actor better than the fandom." Francine lifted her brow as if to prove a point. The girl was still obsessed with Supernatural, and would spout off info about the actors she kept up learning online. But it was all hearsay, wasn't it?

"That's insanely untrue, just so you know." You nodded to Francine, hoping to coax her out of that toxic mindset. The phone was ringing through Emma's speaker and before anyone could day more, someone answered.

"Susan! What do you know about Gwilym Lee?" Emma giggled, resting her phone on the bed with her speaker's volume all the way up. You buried your head in your hands as Francine wrapped an encouraging arm around your shoulder.

"You mean Brian May's clone?" Susan the sister in law crackled through the cell phone. She wasn't wrong. Halfway through the film, you'd nearly forgotten the real members of Queen weren't actually there.

"Is that a compliment? I mean really tell me about this guy. Sell him to me." Emma bargained, propping herself up on her elbows and kicking her feet behind her.

"Okay..." The girl on the phone breathed and suspense built up in your stomach while you waited for a stranger to list of facts about your brother's best friend. "Gwilym is perfect for starters. He's into sports and he's totally obsessed with his castmates. They still see each other all the time. Gwil seems totally devoted and passionate. Rumor has it he's engaged. The good ones are always taken."

You suddenly felt like a ghost of your former giddy self. Why should you have felt so sick? So what if he was engaged? He was just your friend. But friends were supposed to tell each other these sorts of things, weren't they?

"Engaged?" Emma squealed, practically causing the silky pull out bed to ripple from her risen octave.

"Well, it's just a rumor. There are no pictures of a ring or a girl or anything. But where there's smoke there's fire. Anyway, can I tell you about the rest of the cast?"

Francine sat up beside you, casting fiery eyes into yours as she reached for her phone to begin investigating for herself.

"No, I've gotta go." Emma hung up with no explanation, flinging her legs over the edge of the rickety couch bed.

"She's right, there's no evidence." Francine rang, turning her phone to me with a slim Google result list.

"Not to be a downer but I feel like there's gotta be something going on, right?" Emma glanced at you with big sad eyes.

"I- I don't know. Maybe he is? He's talked for ages about his family. Never said a word about a girl."

"That's because he's into you and he's on a great American fling. If there's a girl he's not going to say so." Francine reasoned. She was right. She had to be. Gwilym was too beautiful and endearing to have been single. You were just a good flirt.

I can't get no satisfaction, I can't get no satisfaction... 'cause I try and I...

Your phone was ringing. And your friend's eyes were glued to your every move. You were only a little shocked to find Gwilym's name flickering across your dim screen now. But as you snatched the phone to answer you felt your chest tighten between a rope of anxious nerves.

"Hi, Gwil." You tried to sound nonchalant as you stood up and pointed a warning finger to your friends. But they, of course, couldn't be expected to hold back their bursts of excitable chirps.

"Hi-"

"Hang on!" You warned, making a break for your bedroom. There was little hope your friends would settle their giggles because as they chased after you to beg to eavesdrop, they were squealing far too loudly. After dramatically flinging yourself behind your locked bedroom door you answered the phone once more.

"Okay! Hi!" You sighed, trying desperately to even out your breathing.

"Is this a bad time?" Gwilym quizzed over the phone. You cast your eyes across your well-kept room with a smile.

"No! Just... what's up?" You wondered in turn. No time was a bad time for Gwilym.

"Alright." The man let out a chuckle before continuing. "Well, this might be a stretch, but here it goes. I was going to bring Dan with me to a premier tomorrow. He had to cancel last minute for work, yet again. I've already got a plus one, so, would you like to come with me?"

"I'm second best, huh?" You laughed, stepping further into the room, past a stack of books around the corner.

"Well, first if you think about it! Dan called dibs, but I... well I called you."

Oh dear. You had to remind yourself to breathe as Gwilym went on to say,

"I think you'd get on well with my mates is all, and you seemed to have a free week. Asking seemed worth a shot."

"I see." You bit your lip. Was he really being as forward as he sounded? Was he really engaged? "Well, I'd love a night out. Only if you're sure though."

"Oh, I'm sure. Come round Dan's by seven?" You could hear him smile.

"Okay." You agreed while still holding your breath. "See you soon, Gwil."

What do I wear?

#gwilym x reader #gwilym lee x reader #gwilym lee #borhap fanfic

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destieltropecollection · 5 years

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Destiel Trope Collection 2019 Day 13: Established Relationship

Discoveries | @wildsofourhearts Rating: Mature Word Count: 1967 Main Tags and Warnings: Romance, Fluff, Castiel and Dean Winchester are Cute, Kissing, Making Out Summary: Dean and Cas are in a relationship and Dean is being too considerate for Cas's liking with making sure they don't take things too fast in the bedroom. Experimentation on what turns Castiel on ensues.

Pink | @dmsilvisart Rating: Mature Word Count: 3352 Main Tags and Warnings: canon verse, foreplay, blindfolds, implied smut, casefic, fake case fic, established relationship Summary: Sam sends Dean and Cas on a fake case in order to force them to enjoy time off. While Castiel finds that to be a lovely idea, Dean is distracted by the decor and the fact that this cements their relationship as, well.... a relationship! Castiel has to resort to a distraction that cannot be ignored in order to get Dean to relax.

As You Wish | @alullabytoleaveby Rating: General Word Count: 1682 Main Tags and Warnings: AU, established relationship, fluff, kittens Summary: Dean’s not good with words, never has been, not like Cas. He has no idea how to dress this up, soften the blow, so he comes right out and says it: “I accidentally adopted five kittens.”

The Only Thing I Care About | @mattzerella-sticks Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 8783 Main Tags and Warnings: AU - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Everyone is Overly Invested in Dean and Cas's relationship Summary: Dean and Cas thought they faced their toughest hurdle once they overcame their fears and confessed their feelings. What they didn't realize was that love is an uphill battle, and it isn't easy. But you can make it easy. If only well-meaning family didn't get in the way...

Fifty Cents | @mattzerella-sticks Rating: General Word Count: 2893 Main Tags and Warnings: Holiday Fic, Established Relationship, Proposal Summary: With Christmas just around the corner, Dean has to do some serious grocery shopping - enough to feed an army. Literally. And a few extra guests. He takes Jack and Cas with him to the grocery store. But will they be bringing home only food? Or is there more to find? The smallest of things can be the most thoughtful presents, given the right meaning and intention.

He Was Softer With Him | @hefellfordean Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 3347 Main Tags and Warnings: Season 13 Coda, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Flashbacks, Emotional Hurt/Comfort Summary: Coda to s13e02: Sam struggles to explain Dean's actions to Jack, so he decides that maybe showing him is easier. He lets Jack into his memories to show him that Dean wasn't as cold and hard as he seems.

A Moment’s Silence | @wingsdestiel Rating: Mature Word Count: 1111 Main Tags and Warnings: Established Relationship, Falling Castiel, Men of Letters Bunker, Post-Canon, Fluff, Mild Smut Summary: Dean still can’t pinpoint exactly when everything shifted into place between them. It had been happening for a long time.

in my blood | @reallyelegantsharkfish Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1110 Main Tags and Warnings: Established Relationship, Angst, Hospitals, Near Death, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary: “Is he going to die?” The doctor doesn’t hesitate. Probably she’s practiced this a lot. “His injuries are severe, and we may not know the full extent yet. But it’s not time to give up.”

Castiel's Breaking Point | @suckerfordeansfreckles Rating: General Word Count: 2315 Main Tags and Warnings: angst with a happy ending, marriage proposal, misunderstandings, emotional hurt Summary: Castiel has been keeping quiet for four weeks, when he finally runs out of patience. Four weeks of him shoving the tiny, velvety box out of the way when grabbing his socks, suppressing his anger about Dean’s apparent inability to find a good hiding place or to just think about who he shares his room- and sock drawer- with. Four weeks of him waiting for Dean to pop the big question. Four weeks of his mood progressively turning gloomier...

Shoe Box Verse | @lemonsorbae Rating: Explicit Word Count: 49252 Main Tags and Warnings: established relationship, fluff, domestic, au Summary: Tucked in the corner of a bustling, artsy college town, where it’s rarely bothered or given a second glance, rests a shoe box apartment. It’s decrepit, all red brick walls and squeaky wooden floorboards, but dirt cheap and bearable. It’s the kind of place that grows on you, that is as quaint as it is old, and it’s where Dean and Castiel (and Castiel’s cat) have been taking up residency for the past year or so while Dean finishes up carpentry school, and Castiel works on his art.

White Tulips | @breathingdestiel Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1826 Main Tags and Warnings: AU, light angst, fluff Summary: “Finally, he had enough money for the ring as well as one more surprise for Dean. He was going to make their dream come true.”

College woes | @breathingdestiel Rating: Mature Word Count: 1420 Main Tags and Warnings: college au, fluff Summary: Dean annoys Cas by listening to one song on repeat for hours. Fortunately, he finds a way to apologize.

Whatever It Takes | @cr-noble-writes Rating: No Rating Word Count: 5056 Main Tags and Warnings: angst, no happy ending, canonverse, injured!Cas, human!Cas Summary: Cas gets hit by a car and ends up in a coma. Dean will do anything to make sure he can tell his boyfriend he loves him at least once. Even if it costs him everything.

What's the Truth | @pherryt Rating: General Word Count: 8256 Main Tags and Warnings: Sci Fi AU, Android AU, Android!Cas, Secrets, Explosions, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, android phobia, Accident in space Summary: Dean has never made a secret of his hatred for AI's - especially androids. His whole world is turned on it's edge when he finds out Cas has been hiding something big from him since they met... and before he can even come to terms with it, he almost loses Cas for good.

Long Exposure | @saltnhalo Rating: Explicit Word Count: 7581 Main Tags and Warnings: Established relationship, Dom/sub undertones, Dom Cas, sub Dean, photography, nude modelling Summary: Nude model wanted for erotic photoshoot. All photographs will only be submitted for assessment at approval of model. Males and females welcome – must be willing to take directions. All photography will be undertaken in a safe studio, and at the pace and comfort of the model. Payment of $100 for two hours of work. Tear off a number if interested.

Surprise | @peanutbutterjelly-pie Rating: General Word Count: 4636 Main Tags and Warnings: Fluff, Established Relationship, Misunderstandings, Marriage Proposal Summary: In which Castiel (kinda accidentally) proposes and Dean doesn't know how to deal with it.

I'm the Only | @DesiraeLovesDestiel Rating: Explicit Word Count: 25121 Main Tags and Warnings: Tattoo artist Castiel/Professor Dean, Geek Dean, Established relationship, Married Destiel, Insecure Dean, Experienced Castiel, High School flashbacks, fluff, smut Summary: Dean cleared his throat. “It’s just, if she did something really bad, maybe Charlie didn’t tell me for a reason. Like, say you cheated on me. If there was the slightest chance I was going to forgive you, I probably wouldn’t tell Charlie about it because I wouldn’t want to taint her image of you.” “Woah, wait. You think about me cheating on you?” The outraged tone of Cas’ voice had Dean wanting to backtrack fast. “No, no you’re missing the point. I am just saying IF you cheated on me-” “If I cheated on you? If I cheated on my husband whom I have loved since high school, who I am utterly devoted to?” Cas’ face had pinkened in his ire and Dean wished he had kept his mouth shut. When Professor Winchester makes an offhand remark on the way to his sexy husband's tattoo convention, it sends them both on a trip down memory lane, back to High School, where popular goth, Castiel, made it his mission to win the heart of quiet, bookworm Dean. A story of blooming first love that grew into forever.

Need | @galaxystiel Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2361 Main Tags and Warnings: PWP, established relationship, mutual masturbation, dom/sub undertones, phone sex Summary: Dean is away on a hunt and Castiel takes the time to look around his bedroom. PWP.

The last straw | @angelneedshunter Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3899 Main Tags and Warnings: bickering, angry sex, domestic cas and dean, make up sex, Summary: Dean has been in a foul mood all day. He and Cas finally clash at dinner.

From The Outside | @peanutbutterjelly-pie Rating: General Word Count: 10338 Main Tags and Warnings: Fluff, POV Outsider Summary: Six people. Six different points of view. And only one conclusion. (The progress of Dean and Castiel's relationship looked at from the outside.)

On The Inner Workings Of Non-Angels | @babybluecas Rating: Mature Word Count: 39092 Main Tags and Warnings: canon divergent, fluff and angst, domestic, fallen!cas Summary: The way it began couldn’t get more cliché: Dean kissing Cas in the rain as they turned their ‘goodbye’ into a bittersweet ‘see you soon.’ Three years later, Dean can hardly believe what his life has become: he’s a happy civilian, shacked up in the bunker with Cas. The whole messed up world seems to have left them alone, at last, and the worst things that ever happen to Dean are the rom-com marathons his better half tortures him with. Even Sam’s living his dream, back in law school. A true happily ever after for all. The problem is that those, in Dean’s experience, don’t last forever. So when Cas starts acting suspicious, with strange phone calls and daydreams and the walls of yellowed books rising around him, Dean has a full right to be worried. He’s no longer sure he could handle their perfect, little world falling apart. But Cas, of course, says everything’s fine.

Sick Dick | @lunastories Rating: Mature Word Count: 1557 Main Tags and Warnings: Fluff, hurt/comfort, sick fic, Fallen Angel Castiel, Sick Castiel Summary: Castiel had plans for Valentine's day. He was going to do the full human experience and show his appreciation for Dean. His immune system had other ideas.

Drop the Act | @mattzerella-sticks Rating: Mature Word Count: 3564 Main Tags and Warnings: Oblivious Sam Winchester, Human Castiel, Post-Canon, Married Dean/Castiel, Sam Doesn't Know Summary: After defeating the Empty, Sam thought all the surprises were done for. Cas was saved, was human, and the Winchesters were a complete family unit doing what they do best: hunting monsters and saving people. He didn't account for his brother and angel best friend to manage one final surprise after coming back from a routine hunt in Florida. But that's what happens when you don't see what's been happening right in front of you for a year.

Permanent Ink | @zenmuppet Rating: General Word Count: 1447 Main Tags and Warnings: Human AU, tattooed!Cas, tattooed!Dean, marriage proposal Summary: Dean and Cas have been together for years, and they're very happy, but Dean has always said he's "not the marrying type". That's fine - Cas would be content to live with Dean forever. The thing is, Cas is a hopeless romantic, and he secretly wishes Dean would have a change of heart. Dean has known Cas was The One for years, and when he figured out that Cas really wants a wedding, he knew this was the one thing that would change Dean's lifelong opinion of marriage. He's had the ring for months, but he's been agonizing over the proposal. Dean wants it to be perfect; something personal to the two of them, intimate and romantic, but a grand gesture nonetheless. He’s come up with some great ideas, but discarded every one of them, so far.

Take You To The Country | @almaasi Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 18987 Main Tags and Warnings: Alternate Universe - Historical, Propositions, Eloping, Newspapers, Fluff, Romance, Forbidden Love, Misunderstandings, Pining, First Kiss, Castiel and Dean in Love, Established Relationship, Running Away Together, Moving In Together, Cob Houses, Childhood Friends, Marriage Proposal, Businessman Dean, Farmer Dean, Emotional Dean, Bisexual Dean, Clockmaker Castiel, Autistic Castiel, Frustrated Sam, Protective Sam Summary: A Dean/Cas 1950s AU. Dean reads an elopement proposal in the town's local newspaper, written by some old soul in love with their best friend. He's mid-way through expressing to his brother how beautiful he finds it when Dean realises the proposal is for him.

What's a Hickey? | @almaasi Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1101 Main Tags and Warnings: Canon Universe, Hickeys, Marking, Castiel & Sam Friendship, Fluff, Human Castiel, Relationship Reveal Summary: Sam and Cas have a conversation about hickeys. Specifically, about the one on Castiel's neck.

Something Familiar, Something Mundane | @waywardwilled Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1486 Main Tags and Warnings: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Major Character Death, Angst, Canon-Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship Summary: “I brought you some water.” Without opening his eyes, Dean felt for the glass and immediately dismissed it, placing it on the table beside his bed. His hand went to grab Cas’ wrist and needily brought the angel’s hand over his cheek. Cas let his hand cradle Dean’s face, almost instinctively passing his grace through Dean’s being, healing and ridding him of his pain. Dean let out a sigh of relief he didn't know he was holding until he felt the cold, refreshing grace course through him. It felt familiar. It felt like Cas.

To Be Dancing With You | @envydean Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1549 Main Tags and Warnings: 10th anniversary, lawyer!Cas, mechanic!Dean, Fluff, Dancing, Smidge Of Angst Summary: Castiel never comes home for their 10th Anniversary date so Dean goes to Cas' workplace to find him.

Take Me In Church | jscribbles (AO3) Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3061 Main Tags and Warnings: blasphemy, church sex, spanking, mild sexy breath play, canon, tie-pulling Summary: Castiel is indifferent to where he is fucked and spanked, and doesn't quite care who hears him beg for it. A lovely, definitely completely innocent, virginal, totally-not-getting-a-one-way-ticket-to-hell fic about Cas' immediate need to be fucked by Dean in the middle of an empty Roman basilica, post-hunt.

#destiel #writersofdestiel #destielfanficnet #deancasfanficnet #destielfanfic #fanfic #supernatural #destiel trope collection #tropes #established relationship #2019

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megalony · 5 years

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Fractured pieces- Part 4

Another part of my latest single dad! Roger Taylor series which I hope everyone is liking so far.

Taglist: @marshmallowmae @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @luvborhap @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @rogertaylors-lipgloss @chlobo6 @sj-thefan

Series masterlist

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Was he ever going to get used to this?

Was the feeling of being alone in bed ever going to become natural like it once had been to him? Roger didn't like turning over and being met with the emptiness on the other side. He didn't like reaching his arm out only to be cradling the thin air instead of another person.

Getting used to a new home was much easier than having to get used to this feeling at night. There was no (Y/n) laying beside him to swing her arm out and knock him unconscious as she flung her arm over his frame. There was no (Y/n) to lay there for him to curl up against and wish that he didn't have to leave the comfort of the bed. Having no one there gave Roger the reminder that he had left his best friend buried six feet under. It reminded him that he was going to have to get used to being alone again because Roger knew no one else was going to be taking up that place beside him. Not now, most likely not ever.

If there was one thing Roger didn't mind right now it was the new feeling of being able to have his boy resting on his chest. Roger had spent almost a month watching his boy through a barrier of glass that kept them separated apart from the small opening that allowed their hands to connect.

Now Roger had been granted the ability to have James in his arms and the first time that had happened Roger nearly fainted the feeling was that euphoric. He could cradle his tiny baby against his chest. He could lay back on the sofa or in bed and watch the small bundle curl up even smaller to the point Roger almost needed his glasses to see him. Even though Roger was having to get used to the feeling of being alone at night, the other aspects of his life were now occupied. He didn't live alone anymore, he had someone to settle to sleep, someone to feed, someone to talk to and someone to bath and love and care for. He hadn't been left alone.

The tiredness Roger had been feeling when he had tried to go to sleep about twenty minutes ago faded the moment he pushed himself to his feet. He wasn't asleep and he didn't seem to be anywhere near getting to sleep just yet either, so James crying for attention was much welcomed.

"I'm here, I'm here." Roger cooed, leaning over the crib to gently scoop up the little boy wriggling around, clearly wanting the attention that he always got. They had been home for two days and James already had Roger wrapped around his finger. This was quite a good thing for the drummer since James wasn't letting him have a moment to himself except for two hours every so often during the night to sleep. This stopped Roger dwelling on the events of the past month. It stopped him from thinking about having to adjust to living on his own or having buried his best friend or the fact he was having to bring James up alone when he had thought in the beginning he would be doing it with (Y/n).

James seemed to know or feel when Roger was slipping into those kinds of unnerving thoughts and brought him out of them. It was like a mutual understanding between them both and Roger couldn't have been more thankful for it.

"You can stay with me tonight, baby." Roger whispered quietly, not wanting to stand around until James was settled. He would much rather settle him in his room because James could sleep with him that way. He would be ready for another feed in about two hours so he could stay with Roger until then and then be settled back on his own to sleep. Roger didn't fancy being alone just now.

Heading back into his own room, Roger was careful when laying back down. Moving the pillows so they were propped up behind him as he adjusted James so he was laying a little lower down on his chest, his head resting beneath Roger's collar bone. Roger tilted his head down to look at James as he continued to cry but Roger wasn't sure what he was asking for. He didn't need to be fed yet, he had been changed twenty minutes ago before Roger tried to get some sleep. He was most definitely tired when Roger set him to sleep so he wasn't active and needing to play or be entertained.

"What's the matter, eh? You should be asleep by now... so should I really." Moving so he was sitting up, Roger gently turned James around so he was laying on his back instead, leaning up against Roger's right arm. Looking down at him, Roger noticed his cheeks were rather puffy and red and short but persistent wails left his rosy lips. Roger trailed a finger delicately over the newborn's cheek before running it down his chest and stomach, wondering what the problem was. James had settled just fine yesterday and when he cried he stopped as soon as Roger picked him up.

"Is it your stomach?" Roger knew he wasn't going to gan an answer, of course he wasn't but he would go mad if he didn't babble away to himself like this. He didn't like the silence or just treating James like he wouldn't understand. Talking to him was easier, Roger would receive a response other than through words anyway.

The drummer had been informed before he left the hospital that James was going to have a few stomach and digesting problems but he had been given medicine that would help for that and checkups were the only other thing that could be done so far. Chest problems such as infections or asthma were likely but not much of a worry at this point. Roger had sat down a few days ago and had a discussion with the band due to this. He knew he had to be at home for James, he didn't want to leave him with family or babysitters and such when he was going to need that little bit of extra care.

It had so been decided that touring was off the cards for at least two years or more because Roger wasn't going away for three months at a time and leaving his boy. Small concerts around the country would be fine in a year or so but no big tours right now. It had also been decided they weren't booking the studio for a few months yet. They would still be fine thinking up songs and getting together but for now, Roger wasn't committing to that.

They had to book the studios for a certain time zone and that meant they couldn't waste those times or that Roger couldn't just not turn up. So making an album was going to have to wait. They all had their instruments at their homes anyway so if they came up with songs they could book the studio for a few days or a week to get something done, just not an album right now. This had been fine with the boys, John could spend more time at home, Freddie and Brian could work on songs for their solo careers or for Queen in the future. Everything was sorted for the time being so that Roger's priority was James.

Roger was relieved that he had brought up the medicine with him when deciding to retire for the night since it meant he didn't have to trail downstairs and back again with James. Reaching out he grabbed the box containing the bottle of medication that would hopefully settle James' stomach and let him go to sleep. Quickly scanning the instructions, Roger fumbled to get the bottle and syringe out. Filling it with the required amount before looking down to James.

"Come on, baby. This will help, I promise." Roger pressed the syringe to James' slightly parted lips, watching as he stopped crying to take the medicine that made his button nose scrunch up and a small cough erupt from his lips.

Placing the bottle back in the box, Roger set it back on the side table before moving James around. Settling his left arm under James' legs and back to hold him with his head resting in the crook of his right arm. His right hand gently rubbing circles over his stomach as he waited for the newborn's cries to die down.

Roger's head leaned to the side against the pillow propped up behind him, his eyes concentrating on the baby in his arms who had taken to holding his thumb which was rubbing gentle circles over his stomach. Maybe Roger had been wrong in his choice to wish to save (Y/n) instead of James. Maybe James was the one who deserved the chance because his life hadn't started. Roger could see now that he didn't have that choice, it wasn't his to make which was why no one had listened to the option he wanted to take. It was (Y/n)'s choice and Roger could see that even though it took her away from him it was now beginning to look like the right choice. She didn't want to condemn a life that hadn't started yet and Roger wanted the life in his arms. He didn't want anything to happen to the boy in his arms and he was going to make sure that nothing did.

"Is that better?" A smile pulled at the blond's lips when he noticed James was trying desperately to look up at him but couldn't manage to stay awake. His eyes were half-lidded as his grip on Roger's thumb was slowly loosening.

Roger moved him yet again, very slowly settling James so he was laying on his stomach on Roger's chest, his head level with Roger's collar bone just beneath his chin. Allowing the drummer to press his lips delicately to the top of James' head where a few ash-blond strands were beginning to grow. His hand rubbing up and down James' back as the other wrapped over his legs that were curled up, making sure to keep the baby secured to his chest. Roger could feel the small breaths from his boy evening out against his own, their chests almost moving in sync as Roger let his eyes fall shut.

Why did he ever think he had to sleep alone?

This was what he could get used to, this feeling that Roger was becoming addicted to. It was the best feeling he had felt yet.

#roger taylor #roger taylor imagine #roger x reader #imagine #queen band #Single Dad #fractured pieces

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nowitsdarkfic · 4 years

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chapter sixteen (the third hockey game)

December 20, 1988. Seattle, Washington.

It would be a whole three weeks before the four of us could group together and head on out to Seattle as a hockey team. On top of that, ever since we visited Brick in the hospital, we were slammed with some of the worst snow I had ever seen in my life: it was so bad, the four of us all got snowed in, stranded in Oswego for a whole two days. Marcia and Sonia were even lucky to leave Rochester for a little while and head on over to Buffalo for a day. And Lars and I still haven't had lunch with them yet. The good side of being stranded at home was I didn't have to leave the apartment for a full day, and then I was able to buy myself a pair of guards for the blades of my skates.

The more I think about it, the more I want to head on out there on an actual plane instead of crawling through a wormhole, especially since the wormholes move about places when we least expect them to. Between scrounging for plane tickets and my calling up places to see if we could play a game up there, as well as my calling up any place to record my songs. Lucky for us, Lars, Marcia, and Sonia all pitched in for us, as the two sisters themselves decided on flying out there to visit their parents and their good friend there in the cozy corner of Washington; meanwhile, I called my parents to assure them I would be home in time for Christmas.

I told Lars not to worry about heading down to Portland to tell his wife because we all know the story there at this point. He also told me that Kim and Hiro could find some studio space for me in the University District of downtown but I have my doubts given it's such a strange setting.

But on the other hand, I'm also open to it. I spent the whole flight nestled in between him and Spence with my hockey gear in my overnight bag right in front of my feet. I have my notepad tucked in the pocket of my big black overcoat. Nothing to see here. Just five guys going to play up in Seattle. We're not a professional team as much as we wish we were.

The other plus side is going to see Soundgarden themselves again, this time as the four guys we knew before and not the band with the soundscapes that fill a whole theater of some two thousand people. I assured Lars not to worry about finding skates to fit him to partake in his role as goalie. If nothing, he's going to be the ultimate badass with his own stick in one hand and his cane in the other.

We landed at the airport there in Seattle, right in the heart of the neon lights as they're still glimmering on in the wake of all the dense morning fog surrounding us. I'm leading the whole pack through the airport with my scarf around my neck, my leather gloves and chained boots on, and my mirrored sunglasses upon my face, like I'm the big Italian mob boss. Don't mess with me: I've got a sack full of blades and a hockey stick just waiting to come out if I get any looks.

There's just one foreseeable downside with all this and that's we actually have to compete with a team now.

Fine by me, as long as they don't try and intimidate us because I've got an album to record on top of everything else.

Marcia and Sonia meanwhile have the keys to our rental hydrogen cars, one for the two of them to head on up to a little town called Everett, and one for the five of us. Sonia pats me on the back as she hands me my key. I really don't know if she's telling the truth about calling Spence after the accident, but I also haven't heard a word from Dominique on the whole matter, either.

Anyways, if I recall correctly, this place is right near the heart of downtown so we'll get a good look of more than just the neon lights there. And there is a Denny's nearby, much to Barney and Billy's rejoicing. The hydrogen hum here is virtually silent; Lars is right next to me in the front seat with his mask already on over his face.

“Relax, dude,” Spence tells him from the backseat. “It's gonna be a bit before we start playing and even then we've got to warm up.”

“I think he's a little wary of all the neon here,” I suggest as we pull up to a stoplight.

“I really am,” Lars replies through gritted teeth.

“It's alright, it's just a little light. It's not gonna hurt ya.” But I peer out the windshield at some of the little buildings here in this part of town. Some otherwise small, nondescript shops, garages, and places that are perfectly fine otherwise but have these odd flat black screens on the front sides. They're odd because they seem to follow the outer corners, like they're wrapped around. And the buildings themselves almost look abandoned: we pass a leather shop which has the lights out even though it's still early in the day.

This fog meanwhile is growing thick and heavy over our heads with each passing intersection. I hope it's not too cold as we reach the intersection of the street leading over to the recording studio Soundgarden recorded Ultramega OK.

This part of town was not nearly as advanced back then when I first met Soundgarden as it is now. The buildings all look like they're made entirely of polished silver: even the Space Needle is looking extra shiny and clean and crisp at the moment, its blue and green neon as bright as a lighthouse. The glimmers of neon are in full swing here up on the rooftop gardens and over the awnings. Then I catch the sight of something small and shiny flying against the dense fog.

I think back to what Angeline told me about the drones. They make a sound that's below human hearing, such that it can cause paranoia. I think about the hydrogen car that we're riding in right now and I wonder if it's the case here, too. But then again, probably not. I feel fine.

But then there's Lars with the mask already over his face.

That one drone itself is floating over the heart of downtown Seattle, right where we're headed.

The light turns the brightest neon green I have ever seen in my life and we roll onward to the hockey rink.

Lars peers out the window at the heart of downtown and I catch glimpses every so often on my part. Everything is so smoothed out and polished: all the lights are suspended by those spindly white wires. The street itself is black and in need of those street cleaners.

I think about Maya, how she spent all that time here, running around the puddles and the blacktop with nothing more than her own mind. At least I think she did.

But that copy of After the Watershed was real. Surely she did. I touched that booklet. I felt it, I read it, I tucked it under my jacket to protect it from the rain, and I wound up losing the stupid thing after the accident. But there's too many sides to this story. I can only make a guess and right at the moment, I don't feel like taking a shot in the dark because I'm looking around for the hockey rink—

“Ah! Here we are.”

I spot the Denny's, nestled on the corner right across the street from the tall matte silver light posts surrounding a good sized outdoor hockey rink. I pull into the tiny sliver of pavement right near the entrance right as those light posts flicker on and bathe the ice in pure white light.

“Okay, so I just have to sit and make sure the puck doesn't get in?” Lars relays to me, still through gritted teeth.

“Exactly,” I reply as I kill the hydrogen engine. I don't think it goes off at first but I turn the key again, and yes, it's off. I climb out first to take in the cool dampness lacing throughout the corridors of Seattle; embedded in that dampness is the chill of cold metal and stone. I shiver and close my coat as I shut the door behind me. Barney, Billy, and Spence climb out of the backseat so we can fetch our things.

“I assume that's where we change?” Spence nods to the little shed to our right.

“Maybe?” I wonder aloud. I really have no idea. “It's worth a shot.”

Billy puts his arm around Lars so as to help him out and Spence takes off his gloves before following them over there.

“I've noticed something, Joey,” Barney starts as he closes the trunk lid.

“What's that?”

“There's no people.”

I glance around the block. Indeed, it's just us here. I didn't even see any passersby at any of the crosswalks. There weren't even any other cars on the other side of the street. I just saw the drone up in the sky and that was it.

“Yeah. On top of that, I haven't heard a bird or anything since we left the airport, and even then it was just the whir of the waters.”

“Oh, from the Puget Sound?”

“Yeah. It's weirdly quiet right now. But let's get changed, though—surely the team will be here any second now.” We head on over to the shed and step in through the door on the other side. There's a few wooden benches in here plus a single row of metal lockers that look very old. Billy and Spence have already changed into their jerseys while Lars is still trying to change out of his jeans. Poor guy.

He finally gets it once I open up my bag and take off my coat, my gloves, my scarf, and then my shirt. I put on my jersey, only to take off my boots and replace them with my skates.

As I'm lacing up, Spence calls me from outside.

“What's up, man?” I reply back once I straighten myself upright. He stands in the doorway with his hands resting on the edges of the door frame.

“The team's here,” he tells us, “but it's not what you think.”

“What do you mean it's not what we think?” Barney asks him. I put my gloves back on and pick up my mask before standing onto my feet; Lars stands up with his cane in hand and follows me out. I poke my head out to see a half dozen of narrow white human shaped things. Robots, I think. Everything about them is perfectly smooth and they're faceless, and they're so skinny they make me look overweight.

They shuffle about the pavement in total silence: their metallic feet don't even make a sound as they walk towards the rink. Spence glances back at me with a befuddled look upon his face.

“Who did you talk to when you said you wanted to play a game up here?” he asks me, his tone of voice unsure of where any of this is going.

“Some lady,” I reply to him. “An actual person. I forget her name but yeah. I sealed the deal with her and I thought for sure. What is this, some kind of gag?”

“I think not, Joey,” Lars tells me; I turn to see him pointing at the edge of the rink and the bots' feet narrowing and turning into something that resembles blades on skates.

“We better get to it,” Barney advises us.

“Yeah—” I turn my head even more so as to come within sight of the doorway to the shed. “Hey, Bill, you coming?”

“Yeah! Just need to get my laces secured—okay!” He emerges from the shed with his stick over his shoulder. I wonder how this is going to go as we pad over to the entrance of the rink and, once we remove the guards from the blades, we file onto the ice, one right after the other. I pass the shiny blue metal posts on our end of the rink and I make out the shiny green ones on the far side.

I've got my mask resting upon the crown of my head and my stick firmly in my leather gloved hand. I make my way over to the middle of the rink right as the one robot shows me a hand which morphed into the head of a hockey stick at some point. Gotta be brave. Surely this can't be that bad. Five guys versus five robots that look like a bunch of mannequins.

This can't be that bad.

It was in fact that bad.

Spence fell down so many times trying to catch the puck: probably two of those times right on his ass. Barney, the resident badass, lost patience with one that he deked twice and ended up high sticking and wound up in the penalty box. Billy, the well behaved one, also deked and almost hit me in the head. Poor Lars, the stand-in, could hardly keep the puck out of the goal posts. Meanwhile, I, the quick one, was about to hobble the captain on the other side because the son of a bitch was moving too fast that I could hardly catch up to it.

These damn bots are good. Too good in fact. It's like they were specifically made to beat humans at hockey.

The only time I did score was when Marcia and Sonia arrived and the former chucked a milkshake at one of the bots which allowed me to scoop up the little black puck. I pretty much sprinted down the rink with the puck right in front of me, and I was moving so fast that I hardly paid attention to where I was going. I leaned so far back that I almost fell on my hip shooting the puck into the goal posts and between that goalie's legs.

“YES!” I shouted, and that's when I fall right on my ass. The goalie sidles away from there, right around me to the other side of the rink.

Spence flies over to me with his hand outstretched for me. I climb onto my feet as if I'm on firm hard ground instead of ice. I strip off my mask, and rub my eyes and my nose with the back of my glove. I notice the robots are filing out of the rink.

“Is that game?” I ask him in a broken voice.

“It is,” he informs with a look of disappointment on his face. “What the fuck was that?”

“I'll tell you what the fuck was that,” I quip to him, “we bombed, that's what the fuck was that.”

“That was brutal,” Barney joins in from the side; he's out of breath and his face is flushed. This is probably the one time I've ever seen Barney truly exhausted.

“How's Lars, by the way?” I ask him, and he points down the rink to where Lars is laying flat on his back on the ice. Billy is approaching us from behind Barney: he, too, looks beat.

“He was working harder than I imagined,” he answers me.

“Oh, I don't believe this,” I scoff at that. I lead the three of them to the other side of the ice, where the robots have already left and Marcia and Sonia are congregated at the entrance huddled down in their coats. Once I come closer, I make out the look of agony on Lars' face.

“You alright?” I ask him, reaching out my hand for him to take.

“My knee,” he moans, “one of those—bloody machines—strained my knee so much. Oh—God dammit.”

I lift my gaze to the two girls at the entrance and I make my way over to them.

“Here, hold these.” I hand Marcia my stick and my mask before doubling back to the goal posts. I stoop down to pick him up: it's tricky doing so on ice but I managed to do it anyways. I hold Lars close to my chest as I make my way towards the entrance.

“Sonia—on the wall to your left is a pair of long grayish blocks. Those are the guards for my skates. Could you be a dear and help put those on for me please?”

“Yeah, sure—”

Still cradling Lars in my arms, I lift up one leg for her to put on the first one, followed by the other. And at that point, Lars is feeling rather heavy against my arms and I stagger over to the shed so as to set him down on one of the benches. I lay him flat on his back with his legs stretched to ease the pain on his knee. Breathing hard, I collapse right on the bench next to him. I give my curls a toss before proceeding to untie my skates. Sonia emerges in the doorway with Marcia right behind her.

“We were not expecting all that,” Sonia remarks to me.

“You're telling me!” I reply to her, taking off my gloves so I can better unlace my skates. “That last shot I did was one for the money, I know it.”

“We should tell you guys,” Marcia begins, poking her head over her sister's shoulder, “Chris and Matt told us that there's a little band playing just to the south of here tomorrow night that we think you boys'll really like.”

“How far south from here?” Lars asks her, lifting his head from the bench.

“Little town called Hoquiam,” she replies. “Not too far from here. They're called—Nirvana, I think is what Chris said.”

“They said they're like their little brothers,” Sonia adds.

“Sweet,” I tell them, unlacing my skates. “By the way, you ladies gonna join us over at Denny's?”

“We might as well,” says Sonia with a shrug. “We owe the two of you a lunch anyways.”

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daisychains4 · 5 years

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Strings (5/16)

Chapter 5: In My Blood (Masterlist)

Warnings: Scroll to the end of the chapter for warnings!

Note: Italics are song lyrics

AN: This is the Shawn Mendes x reader AU teenage heartbreak story you didn’t know you needed.

You had started school, and were spending every spare moment at your new dance studio. Although still not supportive, your mum kept quiet. Your mood had improved and you were staying away from boys. That was all your mum wanted.

Tori had made a deal with you. You could take classes for free if you helped out around the studio. You cleaned, worked at the front desk, helped with accounts and billing, placed orders, and, as often as you could, you taught classes, too. You loved teaching almost as much as you loved dancing. You could spend countless hours putting together dance combinations to teach your students, and you had a gift for pulling just the right emotions from the dancers to bring your choreography to life.

Tori began to lean on you more as competition season began. You had an eye for movement, and an ear for music. Tori frequently sought your opinion on routines, and even began letting you choreograph solos and small group numbers. You were thrilled with the money choreography and private lessons provided. You put all of your earnings away, hoping to be able to move out of your mother’s house the minute you turned eighteen.

You had spent the last three months distracting yourself from your broken heart. Things had improved, but you still desperately missed Shawn and the life you had left behind. The only time you felt better was when you were dancing. It was the perfect outlet for your pain.

One night, after the studio was closed, you were working through some of your pain on the dance floor. As you finished a particularly difficult set of turns, you stumbled. It was unlike you to fall out of a turn, but you figured you had pushed yourself too far. You were dizzy from spinning, so you allowed yourself a moment to rest. You collapsed onto your back and closed your eyes, concentrating on the feeling of each muscle. Your body was stiff and you were exhausted; you’d been working nonstop and hardly allowed yourself a break. Getting out of bed each day was getting harder and harder; you knew that if you allowed yourself, you could sleep entire weekends away.

Help me, it's like the walls are caving in.

Sometimes I feel like giving up,

But I just can't.

You felt weak and your heart raced. Your breathing became shallow and you struggled to sit up. The most you could do was curl into a ball on your side and wait for the panic attack to end.

Tori came into the room, and when she saw you hyperventilating on the floor, she raced to your side. She helped you sit up and hang your head between your legs. She stroked your back soothingly as the panic subsided.

“Shhhh, you’re ok,” Tori whispered. “You’ll be ok.”

You had told Tori about what happened back home. Tori was old enough to be your mum, but she was a good listener and treated you like a little sister. She didn’t judge you the way your mum had.

You allowed your head to rest on Tori’s shoulder.

“What’s going on with you, (Y/N)? You look worse than you did the day we met. And you looked awful that day.” She nudged you with her shoulder.

You managed a small smile. “I don’t know, Tori. It hurts. Everything hurts.”

“What do you mean? Your heart?”

“Yes. And my whole body. My muscles are on fire, I feel nauseous, and I’m tired all the time. I feel like I’m falling apart without him.”

Tori turned her head to look at you concernedly. “(Y/N), I’m not sure this is heartbreak you’re feeling.”

It isn't in my blood.

Laying on the bathroom floor, feeling nothing.

I'm overwhelmed and insecure, give me something

I could take to ease my mind slowly.

You were sitting on your bathroom floor with your back against the wall. You were staring unseeingly ahead of you, and had been there for hours. The tears you cried had left faint tracks on your cheeks, but you weren’t crying anymore.

How could you have been so stupid? How could you have missed what was right in front of you?

Suddenly, you shook your head, waking yourself from your stupor. You stood purposefully and walked to your bedroom. You grabbed a duffel bag from your closet and began throwing clothes into it haphazardly. You ignored all of the unpacked boxes that were still stacked carelessly in your room. You reached into your nightstand and grabbed your phone charger and a photo album.

You went back into the bathroom and threw your toiletries into a smaller bag. You turned to leave the bathroom before you remembered one last thing.

You reached into the bathroom trash can to pull the pregnancy test back out so your mum wouldn’t find it.

Just have a drink and you'll feel better.

Just take her home and you'll feel better.

Keep telling me that it gets better.

Does it ever?

Tori heard a soft knock on her apartment door at six the next morning. She opened the door to find you standing there, looking lost and afraid. She understood immediately what you needed.

“Come on in,” Tori said kindly. “You’ll stay with me and we’ll figure this all out.”

Help me, it's like the walls are caving in.

Sometimes I feel like giving up,

No medicine is strong enough.

Someone help me.

I'm crawling in my skin.

Sometimes I feel like giving up,

But I just can't...

It didn’t take your mum long to track you down at Tori’s place. You’d had your worst fight yet, and although you hadn’t told your mum you were pregnant, you’d made it clear that you weren’t coming home. When your mum raised a hand to slap you across the face, Tori had intervened. She marched your mum to the door and told her in no uncertain terms that she was not to come back.

“Fine!” your mum hissed. “But you’re on your own. Don’t you dare come running back to me, (Y/N).”

“I won’t,” you said with finality. Tori slammed the door in your mum’s face. You wondered how you and your mum could possibly share the same DNA.

It isn't in my blood.

Three months later, you were living on Tori’s pull-out couch and working at the studio full time. Tori had put up a good fight when you told her you wanted to quit school. In the end, you compromised and you applied to be homeschooled through an online program.

Tori had also helped you find a free clinic to ensure you had a healthy, safe pregnancy. You went to regular checkups and, once the news you were having a baby had really sunk in, you found that you were excited to meet your baby. Shawn’s baby.

You found it impossible not to think of Shawn. You carried a constant reminder of your love and heartbreak. Even if you hadn’t, it was impossible to avoid him. His songs were on the radio every time you turned it on, he was all over social media, and he was even touring with Taylor Swift. He was everywhere, and he seemed so happy. Like he didn’t miss you at all.

I'm looking through my phone again, feeling anxious,

Afraid to be alone again, I hate this.

I'm trying to find a way to chill, can't breathe, oh…

Tori was the only person you confided in. She didn’t push too hard, but she regularly encouraged you to reach out to Shawn. She said he deserved to know you were pregnant with his baby.

There was a part of you that knew Tori was right. As you neared the end of your pregnancy, you caught yourself accessing Shawn’s number in your phone more and more frequently.

Is there somebody who could

Help me? It's like the walls are caving in.

Sometimes I feel like giving up,

No medicine is strong enough.

Someone help me.

I'm crawling in my skin.

Sometimes I feel like giving up,

But I just can't...

One night, at eight-months pregnant, you sat curled up on the couch in your tiny studio apartment. You were making enough money at the studio that you could afford to live, very modestly, on you own.

You were finally ready to call Shawn. Your heart raced as you heard the first ring. Before you could lose courage, a dial tone sounded.

“We’re sorry. Your call cannot be completed as dialed. Please hang up and try again.”

Your shoulders slumped in defeat. You took a deep breath, then dialed the Mendes family’s house phone from memory. You waited nervously while it rang once, twice, three times. “You’ve reached the Mendes family,” Manny’s recorded voice came on the line. “We’re sorry we can’t come to the phone right now. Please leave your name and number, and we’ll get back to you as soon as we can. Have a great day!” The recording ended with a loud beep!

“Hi Shawn,” you began nervously. “It’s (Y/N). I, uh—” you stammered. “I’m sorry about everything. Please call me as soon as you can.” You ended the message with your new phone number.

You were still crying when you fell asleep on the couch hours later.

It isn't in my blood.

I need somebody now.

I need somebody now,

Someone to help me out.

I need somebody now.

You were in the middle of teaching a contemporary class when you felt a sharp pain in your lower back. It was quickly followed by a trickling sensation. You looked down to find your leggings were soaked. You called for Tori, panicked.

The older dance teacher swept you into your car and off to the hospital. You struggled to focus on your breathing; you were terrified.

Help me, it's like the walls are caving in

Sometimes I feel like giving up

But I just can't...

You weren’t in much better shape lying in the hospital bed. Tori was trying to help you breathe through the contractions, but your nervous state was making it difficult.

You hadn’t heard from Shawn. You weren’t ready to have the baby. It didn’t feel right.

Tori worried that you would send the baby into distress if you didn’t calm down. She squeezed your hand and begged you to breathe, to get control of yourself.

“I can’t Tori!” you cried. “I can’t do this! I’m not ready!”

“(Y/N), yes you can,” Tori said. “You are stronger than you know. And you’re not alone. You have me.”

“I need Shawn!” you sobbed.

Tori was beside herself with worry. She didn’t know what to do, and the nurses made it clear that if you didn’t pull it together, you’d hurt the baby.

“I want Shawn!” you cried again. “Please, Tori!”

Not knowing what else to do, Tori grabbed her phone from her purse. She opened her music app and typed in Shawn Mendes with shaking hands. She selected the first song that came up: Shawn’s latest hit single.

It isn't in my blood.

Although Shawn’s voice seemed as anxious as you were, Tori immediately noticed a difference in your breathing. Slowly but surely, you were beginning to calm down.

I need somebody now.

It isn't in my blood.

I need somebody now.

It isn't in my blood.

Five hours later, you held a tiny baby boy in your arms. You stared at him, wonderstruck at how perfect he was.

Tori came into the room with a bouquet of flowers. She leaned over to place a motherly kiss on your forehead.

“He’s beautiful,” she said, staring at the baby.

You smiled, but didn’t take your eyes off your son.

“What will you name him?”

“I think I’ll call him Shade,” you replied. “Shade Peter Raul (Y/LN).”

Warnings: Unplanned pregnancy

#shawn mendes #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes army #shawn mendes au #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes songfic #shawn mendes song fic #songfic #song fic #shawn mendes in my blood #in my blood

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choicesfanatic86 · 6 years

Text

TTS: Part 36 (Liam x MC)

DISCLAIMER: All characters belong to Pixelberry Studios, except characters unique to my story. Those belong to me. ;)

PAIRINGS: Riley (MC) x OC, Riley (MC) x Liam, Liam x Riley (MC) x OC, Olivia x Drake, Bertrand x Savannah, Maxwell x OC

SUMMARY: With her friends unexpected ambush, will Riley lose her nerve in telling Liam about the baby?

If you are new to the series and would like to catch up by reading previous parts, please check out my master fan fiction listing. CATCH UP HERE

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5/27/18 - I was intending to post two parts today, but alas, I have a wedding to go to in the next couple hours and I don’t want to rush the next part. Not even a little. =P So, THE part will be released tomorrow morning. ;)

PART 36 - Well, This is Awkward

God, why did he have to be so handsome? She couldn’t stop staring at him. She knew better to fall into the same trap she had fallen into in Cordonia. She felt herself falling for him all over again, and she mentally kicked herself. She couldn’t let her feelings cloud her judgment. She had the lima bean to think about. She forced herself to break the gaze, and turned to the rest of the group. “Soooo, shall we take this party inside?” Riley broke through the uncomfortable silence. “I’m fairly certain my neighbors are all looking through their peepholes waiting for some excitement. This is New York after all,” she chuckled, forcing a smile on her face.

She searched her purse for her keys and the silence was deafening. No one spoke. It was so incredibly awkward. She didn’t know what to say . . .what to do. She knew they were all staring at her. She’d had enough looks in the lobby. She knew how bad it was. Her face looked terrible, and she was self-conscious. She bit her lip in frustration, searching frantically for her keys.

“Here, let me get it,” Andy said, grabbing Riley’s wrists. She pulled out her own key, letting everyone into the apartment. Riley felt even more uncomfortable. The place was trashed. Having three women in a two-bedroom unit wasn’t exactly the easiest considering everything that was happening. With her being in the hospital, household chores had taken a back seat. She had barely cleaned the bathroom well enough after she had thrown up all over. Clothes was everywhere, dishes remained unwashed. She only hoped that the guys would stay out of the bathroom. She still couldn’t believe this was all happening. She barely had a moment to adjust to everything, and here she was having to fake the fact that she was fine in front of everyone. In front of him.

She found her crutches laying near the couch, and grabbed them. “I’ve got it from here, Alicia. Thank you,” she murmured quietly. “So . . . I guess introductions are in order,” she looked to the men. “Guys, this is Alicia, she’s a good friend and my assistant,” she motioned to the blonde woman who was staring at the group a bit nervously. She couldn’t blame her. The situation was tense to say the least. “Alicia, these are my friends from Europe . . . Bertrand over there is wearing the ever-present scowl, Drake is next to him, Maxwell is Andy’s boyfriend, and . . .” she trailed off, her eyes meeting his once again. “That’s Liam,” she said softly, her eyes turning away from him. Alicia gave a tiny half-wave, still clearly intimidated by everything that was going on.

“Well, I don’t want to crowd in on your fun, so I’ll just head back to my place – “

“Stop, Alicia. You are staying,” Riley raised her hand up. “No excuses.”

Alicia blushed a little, before nodding and taking a seat on one of the stray chairs in the corner. Riley took a seat on the couch, eyes gazing up at all of them. “So, what’s new?” She smirked, trying to lighten the mood. It wasn’t working. She was putting on a brave face when really she was freaking out inside. She was just trying to keep what little sanity she had left, and it was teetering close to flying out the window. Seeing him again, after everything that had happened . . . knowing about the lima bean. It was intense.

“We’re sorry for the intrusion,” Liam began, his eyes turned down in a bit of sadness. She looked at him, the same sadness entering in her eyes.

“I’m not,” Drake said seriously as he interrupted him. “Forget proper etiquette, I had a hard enough time staying away from the hospital,” he said gruffly. “We’ve been worried sick about you, Lawson. Couldn’t just stay back and wonder what the hell was going on with you,” he said honestly.

Riley shook her head. “I know . . . I know things look really bad right now, but things are going to get better,” she started. “I’ve been working a lot, and I haven’t been getting much sleep. Plus my diet was just awful. I’m turning over a new leaf,” she said optimistically.

They looked at her skeptically.

“Lady Riley . . .” Bertrand began, his hand reaching out to grasp her own. “I’m pleased to see you up and about,” he said genuinely. “I second Drake’s sentiments about being quite worried about you, which is why we’re here,” his eyes scanned warily over her apartment.

“Thank you. All of you, but really, I’m okay,” she started to say once again.

“But – “

“No buts,” she said sharply. “You came here to check on me; you came for a visit, so let’s visit. No more talk about the accident or afterwards. I’m fine. The hospital discharged me. I know what I need to do to get better, so let’s just drop it okay? And for God’s sake, stop looking around at each other like I’ve gone crazy,” she sighed. The others zipped their lips, a bit taken aback by her sudden outburst. She knew it was wrong of her to blow up at all of them. All they cared about was her health and her safety. She just couldn’t take it anymore. It was all too much. All too overwhelming. The silence lingered for what seemed like hours, but in reality, it was only a few minutes.

“So . . . Who wants Chinese?” Maxwell asked hesitantly, breaking through the awkward silence.

“I could do Chinese,” Andy agreed.

The others nodded in approval, all except Bertrand who rolled his eyes in dismay. This was going to be a long night.

Dinner went on with mostly small talk, with Liam and Riley remained quiet throughout. To say things were incredibly awkward would be an understatement. She noticed him glancing at her several tmes throughout the meal, and she wanted him to knock it off. He was confusing her. She had everything set in her mind what she was going to tell him, and here he was looking at her with his handsome eyes and she just about melted. She wondered if she could blame the pregnancy hormones on her attraction to him.

Halfway through her meal, the familiar rumble of nausea made its presence known in her tummy. She started to feel very unsettled; perhaps it was too soon to indulge in the chow mein noodles she had been looking forward to. Either that or the lima bean was not a fan of Chinese food. She excused herself awkwardly from their tiny dining table, and ran to the bathroom. She heard the murmurs around the table as she bolted, but she couldn’t worry about that now. She needed to make it to the bathroom.

Once she had emptied her stomach, she rested her head on the seat of the toilet. This was just perfect. Their minor concerns were going to turn into genuine issues when she went back out there. There was no avoiding things now; they weren’t stupid. How long would she be able to sell the exhaustion story? If Maxwell . . . her lovingly, adorably, oblivious Maxwell had figured it out, how long before someone was cunning as Bertrand would piece the puzzle together? Or Drake? Or even Liam. She sighed; the thoughts were making her feel so much worse. She wished she could turn her brain off just for a few hours to regroup. Her mind shifted to the anti-nausea pills that the hospital had given her. It couldn’t hurt to take one. Maybe it would help her survive the rest of the night.

“Sorry,” she murmured when she returned to the table. She pushed her plate aside, no longer eager to dive in and finish her food.

“Is that normal?” Drake asked worriedly. Leave it to Drake to have no fear and call Riley out on her bullshit.

“I’m fine,” she waved off their concern. “I’m okay now,” she murmured quietly.

The others at the table exchanged glances. Alicia and Andy tried their best not to look alarmed. They’d had their fair share of the vomiting and nausea and knew that it could get fairly bad very quickly. Maxwell gave her a long look, worry clear across his face. He opened his mouth to speak, then promptly closed it back shut.”

“So, have you thought about what’s going to happen after Andy comes back?” Drake asked.

“What do you mean?” She frowned. Of course she had. She was freaking out about doing all of this alone, but she’d manage. Things were going to get better. They couldn’t exactly get much worse. She wished she could scream at them that she was fine. That she was just pregnant, and once things settled down she’d be fine, but she couldn’t. That wouldn’t be fair to Liam. He deserved to know first, and she had already taken that right away from him considering three of her friends had learned about the lima bean before he had.

“How you’re going to get around and work and do everything else,” he motioned around the apartment.

“Well, I have Alicia,” I sent her a small smile. “And really, I only have to stay off my leg for around four to five weeks. I’ve almost got one week down,” she shrugged. “I’ll manage.”

Bertrand slammed down his plastic utensils. He was clearly disappointed that it didn’t make quite the statement he had been hoping it would make. He sneered in disgust at everyone around him. “Am I the only one thinking it?” he said angrily. When no one answered, he frowned, his eyes scanning over the room until he met Riley’s gaze.

“A woman in your condition shouldn’t be by herself,” he shook his head in admonishment.

Riley paused, shooting a glance toward Andy who merely shrugged, returning the glance with a confused look of her own.

“I’m sorry?” she asked, a bit frazzled by his statement. She tapped her fork nervously against the table. “What do you mean?”

“You have severe facial injuries and a broken leg. Lady Andy will be returning with Maxwell to Cordonia, at which time, you will be left with your assistant who is single-handedly keeping your meager source of income afloat. This apartment is a closet. You will hardly be able to maneuver by yourself in such a limited amount of space. This is another disaster waiting to happen, which will force us to fly down here again to assist you. So really, you’d be doing everyone a great service by simply ending this façade of being an independent woman who can ‘manage.’”

In the course of the last five minutes, he had managed to insult her ability to take care of herself, the success of her business, and the size of her apartment. Leave it to Bertrand to criticize things in such an eloquent way that you aren’t too sure what just happened. Sighing, she closed her eyes in frustration. She loved them. All of them, but they were crossing into dangerous territory. They weren’t going to guilt her or bully her into going back with them. Her life was here. She had so much to still take care of. As much as her friends meant to her, as much as Liam had meant to her, her life was back in New York. She didn’t have anything waiting for her back in Cordonia except more scandal and a broken heart.

“Guys,” she announced loudly. “I’m done talking about things, okay? I’m fine. I’m better than fine, okay? Eventually the bruises and gashes will heal, and I’ll look like me again. But for now, just stop the coddling,” she sighed. “You came here to eat, so let’s eat,” she sighed in exasperation. “I don’t want to talk about going back to Cordonia. Got it?”

She eyed the room, their anxious faces hadn’t expected another outburst. God, this had to be pregnancy mood swings. Right? She wasn’t this unbearable all the time. Her eyes fell on Liam’s, who looked a bit saddened by her words. Why did it suddenly matter? He was the one who had wanted her to leave after all. He even offered her an escort out of the palace. He had no right to be upset with her not wanting to go back. After all, it was his brilliant idea for her to leave for good in the first place.

As if things weren’t awkward enough, the group finished their meals in silence. The awkwardness grew steadily, the little glances and murmurs continued throughout dinner. Riley had had enough. She was just about to announce that she was tired and was going to bed when Andy stood up and started to trash their used paper goods and put the leftovers into the fridge. She grabbed her crutches and went to help, but she got sent right back to her seat. Before she knew it, everything was gone, and everyone was sitting around her living room. She could see the light at the end of the tunnel. Soon, they’d all leave and maybe she’d be able to ask Liam to talk . . . although after everything that had happened, she was suddenly very wary of breaking the news to him tonight.

“Who wants to go for some ice cream?” Andy asked in excitement, standing up. “I think ice cream makes everything better, and it’ll be nice to get out of here for a while,” she suggested. She knew she was just trying to help and clear a bit of the awkwardness in the air, but Riley was in no mood.

“I’m game!” Alicia said cheerily.

“I think I’ll pass,” Riley murmured, leaning up against the hallway wall near her bedroom. “I’m really glad I got to spend time with everyone,” she said honestly. “Sorry . . . for getting so upset. There’s just so much going on . . . Thank you . . . for being so worried about me, for coming all this way.”

“Oh Little Blossom, we’d go around the globe for you,” he said genuinely.

“Yeah, Lawson. When you’re all better, you’ll have to show me a good bar out here. Your old one sucks,” he said honestly.

“I like to think it sucks because I’m not there anymore,” she winked at him, laughing.

“Yeah, and they had crap whiskey,” he chuckled. “Maybe before we head back home, you and I can go out for drinks like old times. If you’re feeling better by then,” he added in, pausing at the doorway.

Riley only nodded. She missed alcohol. It was a good friend when things went bad with Liam the first time. Thank God she had only had maybe a drink or two before knowing about the lima bean. She made a mental note to ask the obstetrician about all of that tomorrow. She knew that Dr. Roderick hadn’t seemed to worried about it, but with everything that had been happening lately, she wanted to be certain. Poor Drake. She’d be out of commission as his drinking buddy for at least a year. Between the pregnancy and the breastfeeding after he was born, the lima bean was going to be keeping her alcohol-free for quite some time.

“Alright, Lawson. I’ll catch you later. Just call me if you need anything. And rest up, alright?”

She nodded, her gaze turning to a fast-approaching Bertrand.

“Lady Riley . . .” Bertrand stood next to her, still looking as forlorn as when she had first seen him at her apartment door.

“Yes, Your Grace,” she sighed, shaking her head at him.

“I trust that you’ll do well to take care of yourself. We aren’t leaving until the end of the week, so I want to remind you of my suggestion. The Beaumont Estate’s doors are always open for you to return. We can hire the best nursemaid to help you on your recovery,” he began.

She shook her head. “Thank you for worrying about me,” she grabbed his shoulder to pull him in for a hug. They were getting better at this whole affection thing. Too bad it had only taken two years. “I’ll be fine, okay?”

He cleared his throat, smoothing out his cardigan. “Well then, we’ll see you later this week.” He gave her a curt nod before leaving the apartment.

It was just Maxwell and Liam left, and the silence of course. She couldn’t forget about the awkward silence. She had been warring with it all night. That along with the side glances. She thought the night would never end. She knew the side glances Bertrand and Liam were exchanging meant something. She just didn’t know what. Perhaps the jig was up. They saw through her lies about exhaustion, overworking herself, her poor diet . . . maybe they were just too polite to call her out on it. Maybe the joke was on her and they all knew she was hiding something from them. She shrugged the thoughts off, turning her attention back to the two men. “Well, I suppose this is goodnight,” she murmured quietly. “The ice cream shop around the corner closes at nine during the week. You don’t want to miss out on it. Best ice cream in the whole city,” she gave them a half-smile.

“Liam, are you coming?” Maxwell asked, his eyes drifting between Riley and Liam when he noticed that Liam hadn’t moved from his seat on the couch.

“Actually, I think I may just go back to the hotel. Thank you for the lovely invitation, but I’m afraid I’m still a bit jetlagged and I really should check in with Bastien on affairs back home,” he politely explained, still not making any movement to stand up or show any indication of leaving.

Maxwell shot him a knowing look. “And you can make it back to the hotel by yourself?” he asked. “It took us a while to find their apartment” he began to say.

“I’m sure I’ll figure it out, Maxwell,” his eyes darting momentarily to Riley. “Please don’t let me hold you back from enjoying the rest of your evening.”

Drake popped his head back into the apartment, “Are we going or not Maxwell?”

“Right then,” he nodded, shooting a look at Riley. “I’ll see you both later,” he nodded. “Call us if you need us,” he added as he closed the door behind him.

Riley exhaled a deep breath. They were alone. Her skin started to prickle with goose bumps. The last time they were alone together hadn’t ended well at all. It destroyed her. She wondered if he had any regrets about that day about how broken he had left her. She wondered if he even cared about her at all . . . or if this was just a way for him to alleviate his guilt about everything that had happened to her. Hell, maybe he had come back out of pity.

The little glances throughout the night had done nothing but make her even more anxious than she already was. She wondered if, like Maxwell, he had his own suspicions about what had been going on with her.

He stood from the couch, staring at her, lingering between her in the hallway and the kitchen. It was as if he were waiting for her to ask him to leave . . . waiting for her to ask him to stay . . .waiting for her to ask him anything, really. It was as if he had been waiting for her to make the first move.

“Liam . . .,” she trailed off. “Did you really have work to do? Back at your hotel?” She asked. If she were going to break the news to him tonight, she wasn’t going to let other things cloud his mind or his judgment. She needed him with a clear head. Having him distracted would just not do.

He shook his head, running an anxious hand across the back of his neck. “No,” he murmured. “I was just hoping to steal a few moments with you. I believe there’s quite a bit to talk about,” he said honestly.

“I suppose we do,” she whispered.

#the royal romance #theroyalromance #choices #choices: stories you play #choices fandom #playchoices #choices the royal romance #the royal romance fan fic #royal romance #trr fanfic #trr #choices trr #trr fic #trr au #liam x mc #liam x riley

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