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absolutepokemontrash · 3 years

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MC’s half Demon, and they look AWFULLY familiar...

‘Kay guys, I got a different kind of stupid Headcanon to throw at you. Get ready!

Part 2 Lessons 1-5 Part 2.5 Group Retreat Lessons 10-12 Lessons 13-15 Part 3 Part 4

*ahem* picture if you will, it’s the day the exchange program is set to start. The student council (nix Mr. Kill All Humans, Weeb-supreme, and our Scummy Sweetheart) have assembled to welcome the new human student. All is going according to schedule, the portal opens up at eight am sharp, they hear the pitiful screams of the selected human who was not given a heads up about the whole thing, and the poor little human falls straight onto the marble floor.

There’s something a tad... off about this human don’t you think? After they’ve peeled their sorry ass off the floor they observed the assembled student council with an air of sophistication and self importance that no one expected. Their posture was perfect, their eyes sharp and calculating... they bared a striking resemblance to-

“Lucifer,” Diavolo looked to his right hand man, then back to the human. “The human kind of looks like you!”

And out popped four pitch black wings from the human’s back and two small horns out of the sides of their head, one horn was a bit bigger than the other. They even still had some of their down feathers! How cute!

((Content warning: Swearing (I have a potty mouth, forgive me), but that’s it.))

Luci-dad

So, the MC is Lucifer’s kid! Of course Mr. Prideypants immediately tries to recall exactly what little romp in the human world uh... spawned this half-human half-demon child of his. Good thing MC’s got the other parent on speed-dial.

“Please note, MC,” Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose upon hearing Asmo take even more pictures of his newly discovered hellspawn. “I was not aware of your existence, if I was I’d-”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m not upset.”

Lucifer blinked a few times in surprise. “P...pardon? You aren’t upset?”

“No, my parent told me that my father was a high ranking demon, and they bare no ill will against you. Though, I am looking forward to this whole... exchange program thing.”

Oh wow, that was easier than Lucifer thought. Damn. Well, he was a father... (let’s be real, he’s been parenting his brothers for thousands of years, and a good chunk of you sinners call him daddy)

MC is probably the most protected student at RAD, despite the fact that they have no visible security detail whatsoever. They didn’t want to be seen as... weak and pathetic.

Something about this human just... set the lesser demons on edge. Any talk of eating them was stamped out on the first day when they walked by. It’s like Lucifer himself was staring at them, daring the demons to try and bother the human. MC’s powerful presence kept them protected and feared.

...at least until dear uncle Asmo decided to do their hair one morning. All those ribbons may have looked adorable but they kind of ruined the intimidation factor.

MC loved to mess with the other students, keeping their lineage a secret for the first little while just made it so much funnier when the other demons tried to scramble out of MC’s way without looking like they were running from the ‘weak little human exchange student’.

Oh wow, what a sadist. Like father like child

Flying lessons are a must. Poor MC isn’t terribly good at controlling their wings, and their horns are still growing in so when they pop into their demon form the first thing they get is a sore skull. Ow... it sucks that Lucifer isn’t outwardly very sympathetic.

“Ow!” MC crashed face first into the grass in the backyard of the House of Lamentation. “Father! My wings are cramping! Can’t we practice this tomorrow?”

The sight of seeing his dear child crash face first into the ground had lost its hilarity after the first three times. Lucifer slowly lowered himself to the ground and crossed his arms as he stood over his incredibly grass-stained kid.

“MC, we’ve been ‘practicing this tomorrow’ for the past month. If you want to learn to fly you’re going to have to actually manage to stay in the air for more than three minutes.”

MC shot Lucifer a withering glare that only preteens were capable of, Lucifer matched it with his own much more sophisticated glare.

“You’ve been flying for over a thousand years! Don’t you have any tips that can actually help other than ‘don’t panic, you’ll look ridiculous’?”

Lucifer dragged a gloved hand down his face and looked around, the two were alone as far as he could see.

“MC,” Lucifer began. “When I was a young angel, I needed to learn how to fly with someone else.”

MC perked up. “Who?”

“Michael. The smug bastard picked up flying quicker than I did.”

“What’d you do?!”

Lucifer smiled at his child’s intense investment. “I practiced flying every day for five extra hours until I could do everything that Michael could do, just better.”

MC’s starry eyed interest died almost instantly upon hearing about the extra five hours of practice. “Humph, I bet I could outfly younger you and Michael with only two hours of practice a day.”

“Really now?”

“Yes! Watch!” MC shook off their wings and took off in a running start before shakily making it into the air. Their form was decent enough, and they weren’t shaking as much as the previous attempts. “SEE?!”

“Yes MC,” Lucifer smiled. “I can see.”

You know what else Lucifer could see? MC crashing right into a tree.

“Ouch...”

Okay... maybe they could halt practice a little early and order a treat from Madame Scream’s. A little sugar to refuel is needed when the end goal is crushing a mutual rival beneath their heels. Just some good old fashioned father/child bonding time!

MC has a smaller seat right next to Lucifer’s seat in the Assembly Hall. I will not compromise on this one.

For all your fluff needs, I give you: Lucifer teaching MC how to play the piano. He has a proud little smile on his face when his kid finally starts getting it. That’s all. Enjoy the image.

That one Uncle who gives you Alcohol at Family Gatherings (Mammon)

Yeah, when Mammon burst in late to the party and whining about everyone’s spamming him with texts to haul his scummy ass to the Assembly Hall, the last thing he expected was to see a mini-Lucifer.

“What the fuck am I lookin’ at?!”

The glare the two Lucifers gave the poor Avatar of Greed was enough to make him want to turn tail (uh, wing) and book it down the hall.

“Mammon, this is MC. They’re my child.”

“Hello.”

“...whaaaa..?” Mammon looked between the two, same glare, same intimidating aura, same annoyingly good posture.

Mammon scratched the back of his neck and looked over at his older brother. “Do I uh... still gotta babysit em’ if they’re not human?”

“The lake of Cocytus will melt the day I let you babysit without supervision.” Lucifer grumbled.

“I don’t need a babysitter!”

Despite Lucifer’s initial denial, Mammon and MC ended up spending a lot of time hanging out when Lucifer was busy with paperwork. Of course Mammon’s first thought was ‘how do I profit off this situation?’

MC is now Mammon’s designated babysitter after they caught him picking up their feathers that had fallen off with the intention of painting them white and claiming they were Lucifer’s from back in the Celestial Realm.

Mammon does end up spoiling MC a little. Just a smidge. They’re the kid of his totally not his favourite brother after all! How could he not? Whether or not these gifts are obtained legally or are legal at all is subject to scrutiny.

“Mammon, I can’t drink this!” MC placed the bottle of Demonus back on the counter of the kitchen.

“Why not? That’s a bottle of the good stuff! We gotta celebrate you gettin’ an A on that test somehow!”

“I’m underage! Incredibly underage. I’m not legally allowed to drink.”

Mammon wordlessly plopped a silly straw into the bottle. “...does that help?”

“No.” MC then inclined their head to the bottle. “And I don’t want to get hung from the ceiling, that bottle was in my father’s study yesterday, I’m above theft.”

“How old are you s’posed to be anyway? Never mind... uh...” Mammon wracked his brain for something else he could do for MC that didn’t cost anything (don’t judge him, the poor bastard was flat broke!). “I could... teach you to drive!”

“Driving?”

“Yeah! Drivin’ is awesome! We can take my car!”

The bills for the damages done to the car and the Devildom were mailed to Lucifer the next day, and MC and Mammon got to keep each other company as they hung from the ceiling. Ah well! At least MC wasn’t upside down!

Mammon wasn’t that good of a flight teacher either, he also crashed into a tree (the same tree MC crashed into, actually) when he was cheering for MC. They were finally able to do a loopdy loop! He was proud and distracted! Okay?! Lucifer! Stop smirkin’ at him! It’s not that funny!

At least the vantage point from the tree was decent and the branches didn’t scratch him up too badly. Oh hey... that person walking by was wearing a very nice watch... he’d be right back-

That Uncle That is Always Absent From Family Gatherings and When He is Present He Leaves Early (Levi)

He missed everything. That is not an exaggeration. He was in the middle of an online raid battle and couldn’t look at his phone! No Lucifer he can’t pause an online game! That’s not how it works!

Okay, the human exchange student is half demon? WOAH! THAT’S JUST LIKE THAT ONE ANIME- W A I T. THE LITTLE NORMIE IS LUCIFER’S KID?!

Okie doke, he was fully convinced that MC just had to be an anime protagonist.

They binged every series that Levi compared them to. Sure MC might have missed a few assignments because of late night anime binges, but they were too good for this school crap anyway, right?

Nope. Lucifer put a ban on the two watching anime until both their grades improved. Surviving that hell brought the two together.

“Ugh!”

The sound of a pencil case being haphazardly thrown across the room made Levi peek out of his bed-tub. If his figurines got knocked over so HELP HIM-

“This is stupid!!I shouldn’t have to catch up with this!” MC crossed their arms and gave their Demonology textbook their best disapproving glare.

Lucifer Lite (tm) was having a hell of a time trying to claw through their missed work, and Levi sympathized, he really did, it’s just... he was playing Animal Crossing-

Levi paused the game to placate his anime-buddy when their wings popped out and he feared for his rare merch’s safety.

“H-hey, MC? Do you need help?” Levi’s offer was met with a bone chilling glare that lived rent free in his nightmares ever since. He had pulled a Mammon and forgotten he was talking to Lucifer’s child. Lucifer’s allergy to help must have passed down to MC.

“No! I don’t! It’s just... dumb!” MC hissed, she turned and looked over at the fish tank. “Right Henry 2.0?”

Henry 2.0 did not respond.

“MC, you need to finish your homework or we can’t watch anything together,” Levi sighed, he had finished his work over an hour earlier. He had mastered the art of all night anime binges and managing to do most of his work in the fifteen minutes between the time he woke up and the time school was supposed to begin. “We haven’t even binged all of volume 4 of TSL yet!”

“Mmm...” MC grumbled. “Fine...”

MC picked up their pencil case and began continued their work. Levi breathed a sigh of relief and went back to Animal Crossing.

The tiny normie did in fact finish their work, only after they caved and asked Levi for help. Swore him to secrecy, they did... very intimidating, they were.

Just saying, he most definitely sent that one Keanu Reeves meme with big Keanu and little Keanu but with Lucifer and MC to the wrong group chat. Poor bastard.

Flying lessons? No. Levi hadn’t flown since his time in the Celestial Realm, he had no advice to give other than: “Flap your wings!”

“THAT’S WHAT I’M DOING YOU-”

MC didn’t get to finish that thought, they lost their balance and fell right into RAD’s fountain. Ah well, Levi had a head start on running for his life that he squandered by laughing at MC. RIP.

The Uncle/brother/whatever the fuck that Starts a Fight With Your Dad at the Family Reunion. (Satan)

Oh... another Lucifer? Eugh. Gross.

Satan gave the kid a wide berth when they first met. Everything the kid said or did ticked him off. “Tsk. Look at MC. Making an omelette. So annoying.” “Oh wow, MC vacuumed? Roll out the red carpet, we need to celebrate their existence!” “Look at them. Breathing. Disgusting.”

MC’s pride wouldn’t ever let them admit it but... they knew Satan didn’t like them, and it hurt their feelings.

“Shhhh,” Satan whispered into his backpack.

“Meow.” The backpack replied.

“I said shhhhh.”

The backpack did not reply after that, which was a good thing considering the little princet of the HOL was nearby.

“Satan?” They asked. “Who are you talking to?”

Satan coldly brushed past them as he made his way to his room. “No one you need to concern yourself with.”

When the little calico kitten was safe in his room, Satan quickly realized a mistake in his foolproof ‘sneak a cat into the house’ plan. He didn’t have any toys for the kitten, and he didn’t want his books getting scratched...

It was alright, he’d just rush out to the a store that sold cat things and rush back! Five minute trip tops!

Well when Satan got back the cat was no longer in the room. Oh dear. He discreetly tore apart the house looking for the poor little thing until he ended up finding it in the library, happily chasing around a loose feather being held up by MC.

“Oh, hello Satan.” MC chirped as the kitten batted it’s adorable little paws at the feather.

“My... my door was closed. Did you let the cat out?”

MC shrugged. “I heard meowing.”

Satan ran a hand through his hair and grumbled. Stupid smaller Lucifer. Stupid original Lucifer. Everyone sucked.

“Let me guess, you’re going to run to Lucifer and tell him all about the meowing and the rule breaking.”

MC shook their head and glared at Satan. “Of course not. I’ve already gotten way too attached to this little guy anyway. We’re co-parenting this kitten like mature adults.”

With some coaxing, Satan did sit down and play with the kitten, maybe MC wasn’t... so terrible.

The two watch Unsolved Mysteries together, that’s their show. “This guy did it.” “Satan, we’re two minutes into the episode-” “Trust me.”

Thirty minutes later.

“He did it.” “See MC, what’d I tell you?”

Lucifer did find out about the cat, but with enough pleading, MC and Satan managed to warm up the cold spot in Lucifer’s chest where his heart should have been. The cat’s name is Detective Toe Beans (or just Bean).

Satan can’t fly, he has a tail, but he did read up on wing anatomy and how flight actually works in demons, his advice would be good in theory, but it’s full of so much technical jargon that MC can’t understand it.

At least MC didn’t crash into something, they barrel rolled through one of the HOL’s windows. Good thing it was the window to their room. The broken arm still hurt like hell.

The Best Dressed Bitch Who Brings The Booze to The Reunion. (Asmo)

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Lucifer’s kid was SO CUTE! A thousand pictures commemorating that adorable moment needed to be taken! Wait- Lucifer- GIVE BACK THE PHONE-

Asmo, surprise surprise, absolutely adores little MC! So cute! So small! He was just so excited to announce to all his Devilgram followers that Lucifer was finally a certified DILF.

That post disappeared five minutes after it was made but the damage had already been done.

Asmo made sure MC looked their best at all times, if they needed help talking to anyone? Asmo’s got their back!

Sure, maybe he’s a little pushy, but pushy’s a good thing sometimes, right?

“Asmodeus-”

“No, these shoes wouldn’t fit you...”

“Asmo-”

“No, not these ones either...”

“ASMODEUS.”

Asmo squeaked and jumped upwards, Geez Louise... little MC’s voice could sure be scary when they wanted it to be...

“I don’t need any fancy new shoes.” MC huffed, sitting up straighter in one of the chairs in Asmo’s room. “I thought this was supposed to be a sleepover.”

“Hmmm...” Asmo pouted. “Makeovers are an essential part of sleepovers... what’d you do with your human friends up in the human world that could possibly be better than a make-over?!”

MC began to list things off. “Ordered junk food, talked about people we hated, watched movies,”

“Greasy food is so bad for your skin...” Asmo cringed and shook his head violently. “But I’m totally down to watch a movie and bitch about people I hate!”

“Ah yes, human sleepovers, a tradition I never quite had the chance to enjoy.” Solomon said from Asmo’s bed. “Who are we bitching about?”

“Remind me what Solomon is doing here.” MC muttered as they sat down in front of Asmo’s TV.

“Because, I wanted to hang out with my two favourite humans.” Asmo cooed, reaching over and trying to pinch MC’s cheek, which they awkwardly dodged.

“Can we watch The Exorcist?” Solomon asked, propping his head up with his hands.

“Ew, no.” Asmo made a face at him. “That scene with the vomit? Hell NO.”

“Mm.” MC mumbled. Asmo turned to look at them.

“MC? Are you doing okay? You don’t look like you’re having any fun...”

“I’m fine.” MC grumbled.

Asmo pursed his lips, as much as it made his little narcissistic heart break, he nudged MC. “Why don’t you pick the movie, sweetie. I’m sure Solomon and I will like anything you pick!”

MC noticeably brightened. “Let’s watch Scream!”

The strangled noise that came from Asmo was... concerning, but to his credit, The Avatar of Lust held his tongue about his distaste for the movie, and the three slumber-party goers had quite the lovely time.

After the movie ended, MC went back to their room, sure it was a sleepover but their bed was right down the hall.

Good for Asmo and Solomon. Horny fuckers. We stan.

Asmo just claps and tries to cheer MC on when it comes to their flying lessons. (The idea that Asmo came up with to wear his cheerleader costume from the previous Halloween was immediately shot down by Lucifer)

“You’re doing wonderful, MC- WATCH OUT FOR THE POWER LINE!”

MC didn’t hit the power line, but Asmo’s scream of terror caused them to fall butt-first into a dumpster. Their injured tailbone served as a tragic memory of the incident.

Oh well, good thing Asmo had nice smelling soap to give that could mask dumpster-stink.

The Uncle that eats everything and tells you to eat your veggies while you angrily pick at your broccoli at the kid’s table. (Beel)

Lucifer... has a kid?! Beel choked on the cheetos he had snuck into the Assembly Hall when the kid’s wings popped out.

Oh wow, that’s nice :) maybe they can eat together. Belphie would probably like them.

Wait what is the gender neutral term for Niece or Nephew?

...Nibling? Uh... let’s not say that around Beel. We don’t need him to get hungrier and begin associating MC with nibbling on things.

The Underground Tomb incident probably went a little differently, but after all that nonsense, the two are closer than two peas in a pod!

Mmm... peas...

“Beel?” MC stepped into the Avatar of Gluttony’s room.

“Hi MC.” Beel was doing push-ups in the middle of the room, on the ground right beneath his head was a massive bowl of spaghetti that he bit into every time he completed a push-up. “Can you come stand on my back? I need the extra weight.”

“On your back?” MC padded closer. “Are you sure? It’s not going to hurt?”

“No, it’ll be okay.” Beel assured them. “Belphie and I did this all the time. Except Belphie is normally asleep.”

MC tentatively stepped onto Beel’s back. It was a balancing act to say the least, they eventually gave up on standing and ended up sitting cross legged between Beel’s shoulder blades.

“You did this with Belphegor?” MC asked.

“Yeah,” Beel sighed. “He was always too tired to exercise, but he’d let me bench press him sometimes...”

MC frowned and hugged their knees to their chest. Knowing full well that Beel’s twin wasn’t in the human world like Lucifer said was absolutely ripping them apart from the inside. Guilt felt just as rotten as their pride did when they were being belittled...

“Maybe you’ll see him again sometime soon.” MC whispered. “Maybe my father’ll come to his senses and let him come back down to the Devildom.”

Beel paused his push-ups for a brief moment, then nodded and went back to his eating exercising combo. “I hope so. He’ll like you, MC. I’m sure of it.”

MC nodded. “I... hope so.”

Beel’s a pretty decent flight teacher, but his wings are just so different from MC’s that it renders any tips he had next to useless.

“MC, maybe your wings aren’t flapping fast enough.”

“Beel, I appreciate the thought, but I’m not a hummingbird. Or a fly. I don’t need to flap my wings a million times a minute to stay afloat.”

Ah well, MC tried to take some of Beel’s advice, but their lower right wing cramped up and they ended up flying in circles until Beel was able to catch them. Ah well, better than the dumpster incident the previous week.

The Uncle That Passes Out in The Basement and You’re Not Allowed to Wake Him Up Even Though All Your Toys and Video Games Are Down There. He Also Picks a Fight With Your Dad’s New S/O Before He Passes Out. (Belphie)

Sitting in the attic was quite a drag, and this supposedly weak little human was quite the annoyance to try and call out to. It took a lot longer than expected, but when he heard little footsteps coming towards his prison, Belphegor nearly jumped with joy.

Oh... it... looked like Lucifer. Smelled like Lucifer. Stood like Lucifer. Quacked like Lucifer. Or... trilled..? Whatever sound a peacock made, this brat sounded an awful lot like Lucifer.

A... half-demon. Hmph. Belphie honestly thought Lucifer had actual standards. Not anymore, he guessed.

(Man I could fill a whole-ass fic with the Belphie betrayal thing, but for now let’s skip to post attic nonsense)

Okay so maybe MC wasn’t disgusting. They made a good nap buddy. It was cute when their wings came out when they were sleeping sometimes. Well... it was cute when they didn’t hit him in the face and make him wake up with his mouth full of feathers.

What Beel said had been true, Belphie made a good substitute when weights weren’t available, but Beel didn’t want MC to feel left out, so Belphie and MC ended up sitting on his back while he did push ups. MC once got bored and started playing Go Fish with Belphie on Beel’s back while he exercised.

Yes. MC is still a member of the Formerly-Anti-Lucifer League.

“Are you sure he’s not going to be too mad at us?” MC asked for the dozenth time that day. Detective Toe Beans was wrapped around their neck like a scarf (he had gotten so big!!!) while MC nervously sat in one of the Library chairs.

“Positive.” Belphie said with a toothy grin. “Besides, he’s like putty when it comes to you. Just give him your best puppy eyes and we’re not guilty on all charges.”

Putty..? Really..? Lucifer..? How strict was he before MC got there... they wondered.

“Sh! He’s coming!” Satan stuck his nose into a random book, it was the Oxford English Dictionary... and it was upside down.

Belphie pretended to pass out and MC decided that the best course of action was to stare deeply into their cat’s eyes. Yeah... that looked casual and not weird.

“Satan, MC, Belphie.” Lucifer nodded to the three of them as he walked towards the entrance to his study.

“Lucifer.”

“Afternoon, father.”

Belphie let out a cartoonishly loud fake snore that nearly caused both MC and Satan to break cover and start laughing.

Side note, Bean had adorable widdle eyes! That cute little face was just to die for-

“You three..!”

Belphie, Satan, and MC peeked their heads into Lucifer’s study, their handiwork was perfect. Everything was covered in red post it notes. Perfectly not harmful, but SO inconvenient!

“You’re all cleaning this up or so help me-”

“GO!” Belphie and Satan each grabbed one of MC’s arms (Satan also grabbed Bean) and sprinted out of the House of Lamentation. Maybe they’d move back there in twenty years... they hoped that Solomon and The Angels would let them crash at Purgatory Hall...

Belphie had used up his physical energy supply for the next four years. He passed out the moment they stepped into sanctuary. Time for a nap...

Flight practice? Ha. Belphie’s napping. Though, he was suspiciously awake and filming whenever MC did something stupid.

“Try not to suck so bad.”

“GO TO HELL BELPHIE!”

“I’m already there. Hell is every second I’m stuck here watching you fail.”

“YOU’RE GOING TO GET IT FOR THAT!”

Well... MC mastered the dive bomb that day. Lucifer bought them a cake.

Bonus! Your Dad’s New Husband! That Has Managed to Somehow Make Everyone Hate Him Despite the Fact That He’s A Cinnamon Roll. (Diavolo)

A mini Lucifer? A mini Lucifer!

Diavolo dotes on MC like he’d dote on his own kid. MC wants a crown? They’re getting a crown! A damn nice one too! MC wants a title? Here! MC is now... idk Ruler of the area between Majolish and Hell’s Kitchen.

Poor Uncle Mammon’s got some financial insecurity, he’s still the cool uncle... right?!

He is very much that ‘how do you do fellow kids?’ Meme.

He tries to do stereotypical ‘dad’ things but he’s not very good at them. Once he tried to host a barbecue...

Barbatos saved the day, but Mammon’s hair was still singed, Solomon’s cooking still gave Beel food poisoning (SOLOMON EATS TOXIC WASTE I SWEAR-), Luke still got hit in the face with a frisbee, and Simeon got an unhealthy dose of DAD NERVES and got so stressed everyone was almost blinded by the holy light he suddenly started blasting. We do not mention the water guns.

(Seriously whose bright idea was it to give Belphie and Satan water guns while they were in Lucifer’s presence?)

Praise Barbie. He’s too good for them.

“Um...” MC awkwardly held up the baseball, trying to look at it from all angles like it was a completely alien object. “Lord Diavolo... are you sure you want to play catch?”

Diavolo clapped his hands and bounced on the balls of his feet. “Yes! It’s a thing human fathers do with their children, correct? We must make up for lost time between you and Lucifer, right?”

Lucifer massaged his temples and nodded. “If you two would like to play catch...” Lucifer grimaced. “I will too.”

“Okay! MC, throw the ball to Lucifer!” Diavolo instructed.

Lucifer half heartedly held up his baseball glove as MC tossed him the ball. He caught it, and looked over at Diavolo, who was applauding like he just witnessed the greatest feat in sports history.

“Okay! Throw it to me!” Diavolo waved his glove in the air, Lucifer rolled his eyes and smiled. He threw the ball at Diavolo with... a lot of force. Enough force to probably dent steel... Diavolo caught it like it was nothing.

MC suddenly feared for their safety.

“Okay MC, catch!”

Diavolo threw the ball with enough force to break the god damn sound barrier. Well, maybe that was an exaggeration, but the ball sailed way over MC’s head and crashed right through a window.

“Oh my...” Diavolo put a hand on his hip and surveyed the damage to the window. “This isn’t so bad, I believe in human world TV shows this happens quite often. Look! The glass broke in a perfect circle!”

“Yay... property damage...” MC murmured.

Lucifer sighed and pulled out his DDD. “I’ll phone someone to replace the win-”

“Lucifer no! Now according to human world customs we must,” Diavolo took a deep breath, rushed forward, grabbed both Lucifer and MC’s hands and started sprinting away from the Demon Lord’s Castle. “RUN FOR IT!”

“Di- Diavolo!” Lucifer gasped.

“Who are we running from?! That’s your castle!” MC squeaked.

“I don’t know! Just run! That’s what the human TV show says to do!”

Weirdly enough, Diavolo was the best flight instructor. MC’s ability to fly increased tenfold after Diavolo found out that MC was learning to fly.

“You’re doing amazing MC! That was a perfect turn!”

“Thanks Lord Diavolo, I’m surprised I haven’t crashed into anyone or fallen yet!”

“Well, I highly doubt you’ll be crashing into anyone anymore, your flying is practically perfect now!”

Mammon proceeded to fly past them holding what looked like Lucifer’s wallet.

��M-mammon?!”

“Oh... I wonder what he’s doing. Look, MC! It’s Lucifer! Hello Lucifer dea-”

Lucifer ended up colliding with the two of them and sending them all crashing to the floor.

That was the last time MC fell during flying practice.

(We currently have a Go Fund Me set up for Mammon to get the funds necessary to flee the Devildom after that incident. Please donate to save- oh shit hi Lucifer-)

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jenomark · 3 years

Text

➔Pairing: Haechan x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: -.- ➔Genre: Fluff ➔Warnings: Angst | Mentions of death | Cursing ➔Word count: 6,865

➔Summary: He was always yours, even before you wrote a book about him, even before he disappeared from your life after high school, and even before he broke his promise.

➔Request: can I request a drabble of haechan friends to lovers? 🥺

➔ I hope you don’t mind that I turned this into a longer story that is more on the fluff side. I felt really inspired to do so. Thanks for sending in the request! 💚

You

You hated school. Not because you weren’t serious about your studies. You liked the subjects well enough. You liked eating lunch at a table, a little package of apple slices, and a chocolate milk that always tasted like the carton it was in. You liked hanging up your coat in the coat closet, little rain droplets dripping on the wooden floor when the weather was bad. You liked your teachers and how they would encourage your love of reading. You liked all the things to like except one: school hours meant time away from him.

Him. He pulled your hair sometimes when he was bored. You cried once, your mother saying something sexist about how he must like you. Your father never paid attention, just kept watching the television. You wondered if all boys were that stupid. He also made fun of the way your nose would wiggle when you talked. He had a smart comment for everything. He thought he was smarter than you, even. There weren't many nice things to say right off the top of your head, but you loved him anyway.

During the school year, the school hours especially, you never talked to him. He was off parading around with his squad of friends, each one more pigheaded than the last. They’d act like they didn’t care about school in the schoolyard, but all of them got decent grades. Sometimes they would pick on others boys, the principal telling others that that’s just what boys did. Sometimes he would raise his hand in class and answer the right question, and even though you sat next to each other in class, he’d never look at you.

Your school life was a little different. You were off spending time hovering by doorways, wishing the days would end until you could see him again. You looked at him from the corner of your eye, a question of whether you truly knew him or not always on your tongue. You didn’t spend time pretending other people were your friends, because your best friend had always been him.

After school felt like a different time zone. Neither of you took your time with homework. You would rush, a telltale sign being poorly erased letters and crumpled papers shoved into bookbags. Usually, he would walk to your house and meet you in the tent in the backyard, talking long before he reached the entrance. He always talked about his day as if you weren’t in it. He liked to talk a lot.

“I don’t want to hear it.” you would say. “I don’t know why you’re friends with those people.”

You were both at an age where you were figuring stuff out. You fought a lot, with him storming out of your backyard tent and walking home, and you resisting the urge to follow him. There was always a phone call from his concerned mother, eased by your own mother reassuring her that you’d both work out your differences soon. You’d been best friends since you were even younger, clinging to each other only when other people weren’t looking. It was too late to make a clean break.

Summers were your favorite because you had him all to yourself. At that age, you weren’t aware that keeping him was holding him back from other things. You were all too happy to lounge on a beach with him, watching him get stuck in the sand and laughing at him until your stomach hurt. To you, it was the purest form of love.

Time made things weird, as it does. The summers you used to love started fading out. He no longer came on family trips. Instead, he went to summer camps with other thirteen-year-old boys. He would come back boasting about being taught to shave his face by the older kids, and then he would show you his new skills. Even though you were disinterested, you always watched him intensely, thinking that if he let you in to this one valuable piece of information, he would open the door to the rest. He never did.

Gradually, after-school hangouts were taken away from you, too. Your father’s only contribution to any conversation was to say that your best friend would be more interested in girls now. Even as your parents left you alone, the words of “But I’m a girl!” leaving your lips until the last light was shut off, you never really understood what it meant. In fact, it wasn’t until he flirted with someone else in front of your face that you got the hint. You were a girl, but he never thought of you that way. And he would rather spend his time after school walking to someone else’s house.

None of that was as bad as high school was. Up until then, you’d been clutching at straws to make the friendship what it once was. You made the tent bigger to accommodate his growing frame. You offered to pay for movies if he’d come alone, and you would even sit through the boring ones just for him. On the rare chance that you’d guilt trip him into staying a little longer with you, it was enough to keep you enduring. When high school truly hit, the studying took up most of your time. The scraps that were left were spent having family time, or visiting schools your mother wanted you to attend after high school.

Though he no longer ignored you in school, things had gotten harder. He was dating often, sweeping girls off their feet with his wild, charming sense of humor. It was hard for them not to get jealous of you. Though you weren’t around much, the bond you both shared was obvious to everyone who watched the pair of you together. He never really wanted to choose between his childhood best friend and someone he was seeing, but the choice was always very apparent to you.

“Maybe you should date, too,” he had said.

You shut it down quickly, appalled that he would even suggest a thing. When you realized your dismissal must have hurt his feelings, you backtracked.

“Do you have anyone in mind?” you asked.

His smile made you feel like you were on top of the world. Of course he had someone to introduce to you. Thus, the double date was born. You could tag along with him and his girlfriend, with a friend of his you eventually started dating. It wasn’t the most ideal situation, but it had rekindled something in your friendship you didn’t know you’d been missing.

He had even come around to your house more. You came home from a study group one time to see him in your childhood tent, his long legs sticking out of it. He bent his body forward, holding up a bag of snacks you recognized.

“You still sit in here?” he asked.

You sat down next to him, the plastic of the tent hitting you in the forehead. “When I need to think.”

“You have a brain?”

“Funny.” you said. “Why are you here?”

He got a far away look in his eyes, like he did whenever he was truly going to say something stupid. There were times he spoke philosophically, because deep down, he was never the stupid little boy you said he was.

“Life is moving too fast,” he said. “Remember when we were kids and it moved so slow? I would suffer waiting for summer.”

“I remember it vividly.” you said. “Are you feeling nostalgic?”

He ate some of the snacks, offering you some. When you didn’t take it, he pulled on your hair a little bit. It pulled you to wherever he was at, back in time to when things felt much easier than they were. High school was ending, and you were all walking down different paths, none of them leading back to this tent.

“I want you to promise me something.” he said. “After high school, I want us to always be best friends. This last year has made me realize how much I missed you.”

You wanted to tell him how much you missed him, to take his hand and hold it in yours. There was something in you that couldn’t do it. You just kept chewing, waiting for him to keep talking.

“Let’s promise to call each other at least once a day when we’re adults.” he said, getting this excited look in his eyes. He felt more like the real Haechan right then than he ever had in the past five years.

“Promise.” you said, holding out your pinky and getting ready to kiss your thumb.

Haechan linked his pinky with yours, his thumb connecting to your thumb. You leaned down to kiss it at the same time, your faces coming closer to each other than they had in a long time.

Sadly, after high school, the promise was never kept. The image of him walking away from your backyard was the last time you saw him in any place you called home.

~♡~

You held the phone away from your ear because it was too hot. In your other hand, you held a cold, strawberry smoothie, the condensation dripping down your fingers. The sidewalks were busy, so it was tricky trying to weave in and out of the people, all while holding an unfinished manuscript for the next book you were writing. Years of dodging kids in school hallways made you a pro. As you were about to collide with a delivery man, you spun around gracefully and avoided disaster. After taking a sip of smoothie, you brought the phone closer to your ear.

“Do people still do book signings for physical copies?” you asked. “I thought everything was about selfies now. I definitely don’t look good with the flash on.”

“Of course.” your agent told you over the phone. “I don’t think anyone over the age of existence does. How old are you?”

“Twenty-four.” you said.

Your agent on the other end sighed. “You’re too young to be worried about any of this. I’ll book you for the signing and people will come, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You wanted to rattle off all the reasons you were freaking out over it, but you were in public. You took another sip of smoothie and looked at the manuscript tucked against your body. Twenty-four and published, with your book rising in the charts, and a second book underway. You shouldn’t be so scared to have human interactions with strangers who enjoy your work, and yet...

“Okay.” you said, closing your eyes for a moment.” Okay, you can do it. I don’t know why I get like this. Seriously, you’re the best.”

“I know. I know.” your agent said. “Take a bath and relax. Call me later.”

You hung up and threw your phone in the deep recesses of your bag. Your one hand was wet, and you didn’t want it touching the papers, so you tucked them deeper against your body and kept on walking.

~♡~

“A book signing. Can you believe it?” you said into the phone. There was no answer on the other end, not even a little static. You walked a little slower on the sidewalk, letting the outside world disappear from your vision. You took a deep breath. “I sold so many copies, mom. I know you would be proud of me.”

The message ended with a beep. You left the phone on your ear and stopped walking. You stood still, wondering if one day calling your mother and leaving messages on her old cell phone would eventually make you feel better. She died shortly after you graduated from high school, and the phone number was the only part of her still kept alive. You called it whenever you felt a little lost, or on days when you had exciting news to share.

Feeling a tightness in your chest, you turned off your phone and dropped it into your bag. You were almost home, but you felt like you weren’t ready to face your apartment again. You found it so funny that your professional life was so full and booked, but your personal life was so hollow and empty.

You turned away, thinking that you could retrace your steps and find yourself on a street with a cafe still open. You would gladly sit at that table and write, watching strangers living their lives, each one stuffed to the brim of character. Men that tried hitting on women who were disinterested, the click-clacking of their heels walking away from potential danger. Mothers with their children, each child holding a mushy, spit-covered ice cream cone. There was always someone who didn’t belong in the crowd, someone your eyes glossed over, and someone who brought up memories of someone you used to know. It was your favorite pastime: watching people who weren’t watching you. You smiled at the thought of getting to live those many lives, when you remembered that there was always a writing deadline to attend to.

Another time, you thought, before taking the remaining steps to your apartment and looking through the darkened glass front door. Maybe you would take up your agent's suggestion of taking a bath.

Feeling a little more jolly, you walked up the steps and let yourself in. You stopped to check your mailbox (empty), stopped to check your phone messages one last time (also empty), and lastly, checked your surroundings. When you were sure no one was around, you walked up the steps, feeling tired both mentally and physically. When you reached the top of the hallway, you stopped.

“Haechan.” you said, his name too quiet for him to hear.

Sitting outside your door, a hood over his head, sat the boy who used to pull on your ponytail. Only now, the figure in all-black clothes, a little 5 o’clock shadow on his face, the one that looked up at you like he didn’t recognize you, pulled at your heartstrings.

~♡~

You liked to remember Haechan often, especially considering the main character of your book was written with him in mind. Well, you changed his name in the book and made him a lot cooler, but the core of him was the same. Both men were the epicenter of your whole world, even though one of them had left years ago.

Looking at him sitting on your floor transported you back in time. Briefly, your mind tried to convince yourself that you were seeing a ghost from the past. But, when he got up from the floor, approaching you cautiously, and he paused for a second before reaching out his arms to hug you, your fingertips knew what your brain didn’t: he was real.

“Why are you here?” you blurted, pulling away from him, your body regretful that you had let him go.

“I don’t get a hello?” he asked.

You raised your eyebrows, the surprise on your face real. You were struggling with words, which annoyed you as a writer. All you could do was look at his face and how much it had changed over the last few years. He was a man now. He was a little taller, and the baby fat on his cheeks was gone. He still couldn’t dress right, and the old confidence faded, but he was still as handsome as ever. When he smiled to show that he was joking, you couldn’t stop looking at his teeth.

“How did you find out where I live?” you asked.

“Your dad.” he said.

Haechan didn’t so much as give his apologies for missing your mother’s funeral, and he had the good graces not to bring her up at all. You felt grateful, saving the pain of both things for another time.

“I don’t talk to him much anymore.” you said. “He only comes by to give me old things he thinks I want.”

Not knowing what to do with the piece of information, Haechan shoved his hands into his pockets. You hated how awkward it felt being in front of him. The silence outside of your apartment was magnified by your deep breathing.

“Are you here because of my book?” you asked.

Puzzled, Haechan blinked. “Book? I didn’t read your book.”

You adjusted your bag in your hands and thought of something to say. Before you could speak, Haechan motioned to the bag he brought sitting in front of your apartment door. You looked at it, the big black boulder holding no significance to you.

“I was actually just passing through town. I was wondering if you could let me stay a night.” he said.

Him

He said he hated the apples, even though they were his favorite fruit. He put them on your lunch tray when you weren’t looking, because if you’d seen him do it, you would have made a fuss. Then, he’d get up from your table and go back to wherever his other friends were, because that was what was expected of him. But his eyes always went back to your table to make sure you were eating well, and he would try his best to remember the way you’d smile when you looked down and saw what he had left behind.

He hated school. It was full of adults who tried to change him. Laugh a little less, they said. Don’t be a clown. Don’t make too much trouble. There was never any room for dreamers or troublemakers, never any kind of future for those who didn’t have plans by the time they were pulled from the womb. Behave and listen. Listen and learn, or we’ll call your parents. He had heard it all by the time he was thirteen, and he hated every bit of it.

Not you, though. You never tried to change him. You let him go on his way, even though he knew you felt like he was abandoning you. You were the only person he trusted most days, and in the tent in your backyard, he had felt most like himself.

“I don’t want to hear it.” you had said once. You were angry, he could see it in the way you tried not to say what you wanted to say. “I don’t know why you’re friends with those people.”

He hadn’t known, either. They liked the way he made them laugh, and he liked the attention they gave him. They were different, in the way that they didn’t remind him that friendships were temporary, that everyone you know might someday disappear. He was terrified of that, of the idea that good things didn’t last.

“Are you jealous?” he asked.

He wanted the words to sting. He knew you were jealous, and he knew you would never admit to it. He would have been jealous, too, if the roles were reversed. He wanted nothing more than for you to admit that you cared about him, that you loved him, or to rouse any kind of feeling in you at all. Those words spawned a fight that made it hard for either of you to bounce back from. He pulled and picked at you until you were deteriorating in front of his eyes. Choice words were said, and though the wounds healed as you both grew older, neither of you really forgot the beginning of the end.

Summer came and went, time never slowing down for anybody. The hatred burning in his heart subsided as he grew into himself more, though he never really learned how to savor the moments as they happened. He was always reaching for more, stuffing his greedy face full of anything that could keep him content.

His phone calls to you melted down to just one call per week. He didn’t stop by the tent as much, didn’t ask to catch up on homework. He was drifting through school, using the passage of time to measure the length of girls legs, and how they’d move in his direction any time he smiled.

“Maybe you should date, too,” he had said.

His bright idea didn’t rub off on you. You didn’t smile, didn’t look at him the excited way he looked at you. When you shut it down so quickly, he wondered if your rejection had something to do with him. He was trying really hard to keep your friendship alive, even catching up in the hallways before class to make sure you were taking care of yourself.

“Do you have anyone in mind?” you asked, a simple smile appearing and disappearing before he could blink.

Introducing you to one of his friends, in hindsight, wasn’t the best idea. He’d had better, but he could hardly take it back. You looked happy when his friend's attention was on you. You were radiant. And it was the perfect set-up. You both could double date and spend time together, just like the old days, even making both of your dates uncomfortable by how close of a bond you had together.

When the jealousy arrived in a perfect little handbasket, he was sure it was payback for treating you differently, as he was getting to know himself more. He burned whenever he saw you with the other boy, whenever you reached out for his hand, your lips quivering for a kiss. He would stay up late at night in a restless fit, his mind taking turns convincing himself that you were losing your virginity every waking moment.

“You’re spending a lot of time at my house.” you had said to him on more than one occasion.

“Do you mind?” he asked. “I can go home, if you want.”

“No.” you said quickly, your eyes sparkling.

He wanted to kiss you then. It was a fleeting , special moment, and it hovered in the air between you both from that moment forward. He thought maybe he was imagining it, but he had been close to many girls, and no one looked at him the way you did.

Sitting in your tent, his legs stretched out of it because he was too big, he thought back to every time you made his heart do backflips in his chest. Ever since you were small, he had feelings for you. In fact, his parents used to joke that the two of you would end up together one day, maybe have a wedding in the backyard, your inside jokes written into your vows.

Hearing leaves crunching underfoot, he sat up. “You still sit in this thing?” he asked.

You sat down next to him, the plastic of the tent hitting you in the forehead. “When I need to think.”

“You have a brain?”

“Funny.” you said. “Why are you here?”

He wasn’t sure why. He had been taking a walk and found himself there, his feet knowing exactly where to go. He had been thinking too hard about life after high school, and about what kind of man he wanted to be.

“Life is moving too fast,” he said. “Remember when we were kids and it moved so slow? I would suffer waiting for summer.”

“I remember it vividly.” you said. “Are you feeling nostalgic?”

He ate some of the snacks, offering you some. When you didn’t take it, he pulled on your hair a little bit. Getting you to eat properly was important to him. If he wasn’t around to remind you to take care of yourself, how would you survive the rest of life without him?

“I want you to promise me something.” he said. “After high school, I want us to always be best friends. This last year has made me realize how much I missed you.”

When he felt like he was going to cry, he shoved more food into his face. He was watching you out of the corner of his eye, wondering if he should continue. When you remained quiet, he began again.

“Promise.” you said, holding out your pinky and getting ready to kiss your thumb.

Haechan linked his pinky with yours, his thumb connecting to your thumb. You leaned down to kiss it at the same time, your faces coming closer to each other than they had in a long time. It would be so easy to seal the deal with a real kiss, one that had been years in the making. But he didn’t, and neither did you.

“I have to go.” he said, getting to his feet. “You’re going to keep your promise, right?”

“Have I ever broken a promise to you?” you asked.

~♡~

He was raised not to comment on the state of other people’s homes, good or not. Looking around yours, he wanted so badly to tell you how well you were doing for yourself, and how proud of you he was. He looked around, his fingers itching to touch the pretty ceramic birds on an end table, to run a fingertip on a dustless counter and hold it up to the light.

“You can put your bag down over here.” you said, motioning to a spot beside the couch. “My couch isn’t much, but it is comfortable.”

You were a little awkward, your eyes unable to connect with his. He could see your mind waiting to defend yourself against the little jabs old Haechan would have made about your space. When he didn’t, you didn’t let your shoulders relax. He moved further inside your apartment, and to your confusion, he said it was a nice place, and that he would be happy to sleep wherever.

Compared to your nerves, he was quite calm. He felt like he had walked into a time machine and transported himself into the backyard again. It was like nothing had changed at all. You still looked the same, with nicer clothes that looked more expensive than the average persons. It looked like you went to the hair salon to ask for an “adult” haircut, but your baby face made it hard to take you seriously.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

Haechan shrugged. “Sure.”

When you didn’t ask if he was hungry, Haechan made himself comfortable on the couch. You sat on an opposite chair, folding your hands in your lap. You kept looking around the room nervously, as if you were scared to be alone with a stranger. It hurt him a little bit, but he was mature enough to let it slide.

“Thank you for letting me stay.” he said.

“It’s fine.”

Haechan sighed. “This is much harder than I thought it would be.”

“What is?” you asked, touching your fingers to your neck.

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

You got up from your chair as if you’d been electrocuted. “I forgot I need to make a phone call. I will be right back. Don’t touch anything.”

Haechan watched you as you grabbed your bag and left the room. Never one to keep still, an old habit that never died, he got up and looked around. He came across the room you entered and saw that the door was ajar. He didn’t listen to the conversation, just grabbed little pieces of it regarding a book signing to take place the next day.

“So soon?” he heard you ask the person on the other end of the phone.

Haechan walked away, his attention set on the fireplace. On top of it sat a bunch of picture frames, one of which he was in. Haechan stared at it for a long time, his eyes tracing the outline of the little boy he used to be. In the picture, the two of you were hanging onto each other. You were maybe eight years old, ice cream running down your chin, and a blissful ignorance only a child can carry on your sweet face.

He didn’t know where things had gone wrong. The two of you should have been friends forever. It just made sense. He reached out to touch his fingers to the photo but reeled back when he saw your face in the reflection.

“My mother took that photo.” you said, appearing behind him.

He nodded. “I remember.”

The air was heavy. He wanted to apologize for not going to her funeral. He had been out of the country during that time, but he should have called you. He could have written a letter, he could have done anything else but ignore it.

“I was scared.” Haechan said, the words surprising himself.

You held up a hand, as if you didn’t want to talk about it, but Haechan continued, “I loved her, too.”

You turned your back and went into the kitchen. Quietly, Haechan followed. He wasn’t going to bring it up anymore. He sensed your sadness because it brewed in his chest, too. He sat on a stool as you got yourself a cup and poured cold water from a pitcher into it.

“How was your trip?” you asked, your voice shaky.” Are you still traveling?”

Since he left high school, Haechan felt aimless. He needed to explore the world in an attempt to further his education surrounding himself. He had traveled to many countries and met many people that changed him. Disappearing was never the plan, but it was addicting to not have phone calls, or to adhere to schedules.

“I’m seeing where it goes.” he said.

You took a sip of water and never stopped looking at him. When you were done, you placed it on the counter. “I guess I should ask the million dollar question.”

Haechan leaned back in his stool, “Hit me with what you got.”

“Why are you here?” you asked.

“I didn’t want to pay for a hotel.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I’m not a liar.”

“Haechan, I’ve known you all my life.” you said. “Lying is your calling.”

“I wanted to see you.”

You inhaled and exhaled slowly. “Stop lying to me.”

“I’m not lying.” he said. “I’ve never lied to you.”

The bitterness was morphing your face. He could tell you were thinking back to the promise, about how broken it had made you. After he left, he heard from his parents that you called his house often to ask where he had gone. You wrote him letters that were undelivered. You nearly followed him halfway across the world until your mother got sick.

“Okay.” he said. “It wasn’t a lie when I made that promise. I had every intention of being with you until we were old and wrinkly.”

“Please.” you said. “You knew what you were going to do before you did it. You booked the plane ticket two weeks in advance. You were with me at graduation. You kissed me.”

He remembered the kiss well. He had thought about it often on his travels, remembering the way your velvety lips felt, and how he never wanted to stop kissing you. The kiss made sense. It was the one thing time had every permission to slow down.

“I know.” he said.

He kissed you. You didn’t kiss him. He was happy about graduating. He was riding the high of the plane ticket, of the unknown waiting for him. He was scared it was the last chance he had to show you his feelings. When you kissed him back and it felt so good, he was then scared that he would never have the guts to leave.

You continued speaking, each word obliterating his thoughts, “ You want to think going away was just some spontaneous thrill, Haechan, but it fucking wasn’t. You could have told me it was what you wanted. I would have understood. You didn’t have to leave without saying goodbye. You didn’t have to-”

You couldn’t say the words, so he finished them for you. “-leave. I know. I’m sorry. This isn’t an excuse, but I...didn’t want to lose you.”

The words felt stupid as soon as he said them. You held your hand up to your head and said you had a headache. Haechan took the time to excuse himself and use the bathroom, locking himself away to figure out what he really thought was going to happen when he showed up at your door to get you back.

You

You collapsed onto your couch. The last hour felt like a whirlwind of thoughts and feelings. You were older and more equipped to handle confrontation, but there was something about seeing Haechan that made you want to curl in your mother’s lap like a child. You bit down on your thumb and thought of the ways you could ask him to leave your private space. There was a hotel down the street that was relatively cheap.

You looked at the photo on the fireplace. The little boy staring back at you had no idea one day he would break your heart into a million pieces. He was still a little unsure of himself, his smile unknowingly gearing up to be mischievous in a few years time. You thought of the grown man in the bathroom, and how the years had passed, but he still felt the same. A part of you wanted to pinch his cheek and wrap your arms around him like you would when you were young. An even bigger part of you wanted to kiss him to see if the feelings still lingered, even though you already knew the answer to that.

Moving your foot, you accidentally nudged his backpack. You looked down at it. It was worn in places, with band buttons adorning the front. One of the zippers was open and the edge of something was sticking out. You looked at your closed bathroom door and back to the backpack before gathering up your courage and unzipping it slowly.

Digging your hand inside, you pulled out a corner of his underwear. With a quick “Ew”, you shoved it back inside. Your knuckle touched against something hard. You wrapped your hand around it and unearthed it to see that it was your book. You pulled it out even more and audibly gasped.

“You liar.” you whispered.

Hearing the toilet flush, you panicked and pulled the book all the way out and shoved it underneath your couch pillow. Quickly, you zipped his backpack and sat back, crossing one leg over the other. When Haechan came out, he hardly looked at you.

“Coming here was a bad idea,” he said. “I don’t know what I expected.”

You stood up. “Wait.”

Haechan didn’t hear you. He grabbed his bag and threw it over his shoulder. You could see that his face was wet where he had thrown water on it. He didn’t make eye contact with you, just waved his hand and apologized for being an inconvenience.

“Leaving again?” you said.

Haechan stopped moving. He turned back. “I thought about you every day I was gone. Every day. And every day, my next thought was that I didn’t deserve you.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you said nothing at all. For a beat or two, you both stared, your eyes searching each other's. You could see every age of Haechan since you’d known him on his face, from the adorable child to the handsome adult.

You let Haechan leave this time. He closed the door with a soft click, his presence feeling like a fever dream. Mindlessly, you sat back down on your couch, and only remembered the book still laying there after some time.

You took your book and placed it on your lap. It was so worn that some of the pages were slipping out of the binding. You opened it carefully and flipped through the pages, the margins filled up with black pen ink. Haechan had written down his input on most pages with things like:

Am I really like this? There is no way this guy is cooler than me.

You know? You’re actually kind of funny.

Your mother was better than us all.

You closed the book with a snap and felt the tears falling. You put your head down and tried to feel everything all at once.

~♡~

Your agent walked next to you, her stride slowing to match yours. She didn’t outright say you looked like shit, though it was the truth. Your eyes were a little red, your cheeks were puffy, and you kept itching your neck all throughout the night until there were red scratch marks all on your skin.

She held open the door to the bookstore “Are you nervous?”

“Am I nervous?” you asked. “I’m shitting myself. I don’t think anyone is going to show up, but with my life, I’m pretty sure I can deal with the embarrassment.”

Your agent rattled on and on about how special you were to people. She dragged you throughout the two story bookstore, pulling you harder when you tried stalling. You mostly blocked out her words to save your sanity. You didn’t love when people tried buttering you up.

“Just over in this section.” she said. “It starts in twenty minutes, so don’t expect many people right away.”

When you both turned the corner, there was a sizable line leading up to a table stacked with new books. When the people saw you, they gawked. Some clapped, which made your face turn as hot as your neck.

“I can’t do this.” you whispered.

Your agent directed you to a chair, holding you down by your shoulders, so you wouldn’t run away. You took a sip of cold water sitting by your side.

“They’re all here for you.” she said. “Smile and try to be happy.”

“I’ll try.” you said, but when someone smiled at you in front of the line, you felt yourself returning a genuine smile.

Twenty minutes passed by faster than you wished. When the first person approached the table, you tried to remember your school teachers who believed in you. You recalled all the people who inspired your stories, making a mental bid to thank them for making the first signing so sweet.

“I really love how you write.” someone had said. Hearing those words made you feel touched. You tried your hardest not to tear up, signing your sloppy signature as best you could.

“Thank you.” you said, the gratitude you felt hopefully being translated well.

You signed for a long time, the line growing and growing as time passed. Some people came with their own dog-eared books, others with fresh copies. They asked what your upcoming book was about, which made you excited to finish writing it.

“There isn’t a set ending quite yet, but I’m writing like crazy!” you said.

You looked down at a book before you and smiled, your fingers touching the pages softly. You signed it and handed it back, giving the fan a smile that reached your eyes. When your eyes locked with his, you felt the world move. Staring back at you was Haechan.

“I would have given you my own copy to sign.” he said. “But I seem to have misplaced it.”

There was a knowing smile on his face that made you feel flushed all over. He took the signed book back and tucked it underneath his arm. Since yesterday, he looked freshly showered in a similar black t-shirt and jeans. His hair was carefully laid flat on his head like he cared what he looked like in public. He looked handsome, and his cheeks were definitely not puffy.

“Why didn’t you just tell me you read the book?” you asked.

“You and I both know I don’t make the best choices.” he said.

You smiled faintly. There was pain in the smile he returned. You wanted so badly to reach across the table and smooth away the lines on his forehead.

“I know this isn’t the best place.” he said, turning around to look at the line behind him. “But I came here to tell you the truth of why I was outside of your door yesterday.”

“Okay.” you said, your attention no longer on those people.

Haechan continued. “You see, I’m not traveling anymore. “

“You’re not?” you asked. “Then, what are you doing?”

“I’m coming home.”

You didn’t know what he expected of you, but he looked a little deflated when you held out your hand. He looked at the book under his arm and back at your hand, his smile unsure. He took the book out and placed it gently into the palm of your hand. You placed the book back onto the table and opened to the space where you had signed your name.

“I’m not going to ask for promises anymore.” you said. “I’ve always asked you for too much. For now, I would just like to tell you something.”

In the book, just below your name, you signed “I love you, Haechan.”

Before you could even close the book, Haechan came around the table and brought you into a big hug that certainly felt like home.

#haechan #donghyuck #lee donghyuck #lee haechan #nct #nct 127 #nct dream #haechan fluff #haechan fanfiction #donghyuck fluff #donghyuck fanfiction #nct haechan #nct fluff #nct fanfiction

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penaltbox · 3 years

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tell me what you want - jack ahcan/roman ahcan

i really hope you guy like this!! thank you to my anon for this amazing idea. if you like it let me know! i’m really interested to see what people favorite parts are. let me know what you think!

word count: ~11k

You swallow hard and look over your shoulder again, feet dangling above the water over Prior Lake. You grip the edge of the dock as you mumble just loud enough for your best friend to hear you, “he’s doing it again.”

Claire’s head whips around as she practically drops her sandwich into the water, food muffling her fiery response, “I’ll rip his dick off, I swear. Just give me the word.”

You laugh at her crude phrase but she knows you’d never give her the go ahead. She knew about the ups and downs though that your relationship had been through in the short time you two had been together. Roman had a hard time adjusting to the dating life whereas you went in full force. Opposite ends of the spectrum for very opposite people.

“We’re not beating anyone up today. Plus, I don’t think Brock would appreciate you seriously maiming someone on his property. Not the way to get a date with him, I’m guessing.”

Claire’s cheeks redden despite the slight sunburn they had and she knows she’s caught, “who said I wanted a date with Boeser? He’s gone half the year anyways.”

You smirk as you nudge her immediately, “you’re such a liar! You cry about how much you love him every time you get drunk and any time we’re here late at night you sit right by him. You two drunkenly flirt more than my boyfriend and I flirt period.”

“Yeah, well maybe if you’d dated the right Ahcan brother then we’d both be happily taken by now.”

Your jaw drops but your argument gets stuck in your throat. She gives you a look that dares you to tell her she’s wrong but you can’t. Jack was taken when you started dating Roman though so the opportunity wasn’t even there. Nowadays though… you let yourself look over at the aforementioned boy and watch as he laughs easily with Brock and a couple of their other friends.

Your own cheeks burn hot when he glances over and catches you staring, but he only offers a smirk in return. He looks for a second longer than he probably should, but eventually turns back to his own conversation. The little uptick in his smile let’s you know he’s aware you’re embarrassed and he loved every second of it.

“What the hell was that?” Claire asks, flicking your shoulder, “I was just kidding when I said it, but what the hell was that?”

“I… I have no clue. That’s never happened before,” you whisper, voice too stuck to say it any louder.

You turn around again and face the lake. You needed to brush it off. He was your boyfriend’s brother and that was a serious no fly zone. Even if he was more mature and nicer than the one you called your own.

—

“Why are you mad now?” You ask, rubbing your hand on your face.

You’re aware of how defensive your stance is but you really don’t care. You’re leaned back against the counters in Brock’s house, arms crossed over your chest, and staring down the boy standing across the island from you. You had no idea why he had an attitude and you really weren’t in the mood. He’d been difficult all day and you just wanted to relax.

“Why am I mad? You’re kidding, right? You don’t pay attention at all. I’m glad you live in such a daydream while I’m out here trying to be social and explain to people why my girlfriend doesn’t even hang out with me at my own brother’s house,” he explains, or so he thinks.

You scoff and look away from him, trying to keep your patience, “you’re mad because I didn’t follow you around like a puppy today? Is that seriously what this is about? And I’d be willing to bet no one asked you why I’m not hanging off you at every minute of the day.”

He jaw clenches as he realizes you’ve caught the embellishment in his story, “you hardly said a word to me.”

“The street goes both ways, Roman.”

He knows he has no upper hand and shakes his head, coming around island suddenly. You’re not sure what he’s going to do, but he moves toward you and opens the fridge to grab another drink. He looks like he’s about to say something as he closes the door but opts for a kiss to the side of your head before making his way to the backyard again. It was always a whirlwind with him.

You sigh, closing your eyes and letting your head drop forward. You were pretty sure dating wasn’t supposed to be this tiring, but you didn’t really have much reference either other than a high school boyfriend who broke up with you because you were “too much smarter than him”.

The sliding door opens again and you look up quickly, trying to pull yourself together. No one needed to know how often you and Ro fought. Jack happens to be stepping in and he gives you a soft smile, taking in your demeanor immediately.

“You okay? You look a little upset.”

He realized it far sooner than his brother ever could and something about that makes your heart stutter for a second. You shrug though, trying to play things off.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Maybe a little too much sun today but I’ll be alright,” you smile, watching as he makes his way to the fridge like his brother had just done.

“Did you need another drink? Water, white claw?” He pops his head back out, noticing you didn’t have anything in hand. Of course he was nice enough to offer and think of someone other than just himself.

“I’d love a white claw,” you nod, pushing off the counter and dropping the black cloud Roman had left over your head. Lake days were short enough and you weren’t spending any more of this one moping around because of what he’d said.

Jack hands you a drink, grabbing his own and squeezing by you. Except there was plenty of room and he easily could have gone around the island the way he’d come from. He lets his hand brush your hip with a whispered “excuse me” as he retraces his steps towards the door. He slides it back open but looks over at you again.

“I’m guessing my brother’s the reason you’re all holed up in here. I know he’s an ass, but try and shake it off. We all know you’re a good girl who tries hard in that relationship. Now, you coming along? We just got the fire going.”

You shiver a little at the phrase he calls you but you pray he didn’t notice it. You do note that he always seemed to have endless patience and you wonder if he took it all when he was born and left none for his younger brother.

You smile as you sneak by him but he politely keeps his hands to himself this time. You find yourself wishing he wouldn’t though and mentally scold yourself. The bonfire is double what it had been and you stop two steps out onto the deck.

Jack’s hand finds the small of your back as he leans down near your ear, “come on, if he’s a dick then you can just hang out with me.”

You look at him skeptically, not sure why he wanted to hang out with you so much suddenly, so the bold part of you questions it, “are you sure? I don’t want you to have to worry about me all night.”

He smiles and holds up his pinky, “yes, I’ll even pinky promise. Just shoot me a look and you’re all mine for the rest of the night.”

“Okay, I can do that. Thanks, Jack,” you smile back at him finally and head towards the bonfire, spotting your boyfriend.

He has a slightly sour look on his face as he stares at the fire from where he’s standing. His words from earlier bounce in your head so you make your way over, wrapping your arm around his waist and taking the spot next to him.

“Sorry for blowing up in there,” he mumbles, wrapping an arm tight around your shoulders.

You lean your head against him and stare at the fire, knowing it wouldn’t be the last time, “it’s okay.”

But was it? You find yourself thinking it over, tossing the words he'd said and the past fights he’d picked around until it all jumbled together. He shifts after a couple minutes and you’re brought back to reality, only to find yourself locking eyes across the flames with Jack.

He raises his eyebrows, a question for you, but you give him a soft smile in return. You were good… for now. It doesn’t stop him from constantly glancing over and checking in the rest of the night though. You were glad someone was at least.

—

You luckily never needed that pinky promise rescue from Jack and Roman seemed to mellow out after that for a couple weeks.

It was deep in the heart of summer now and the days were as long as you could possibly stretch them. Your tan was darker, your hair lighter, and you didn’t want anything dragging you down. Going to the bar for the night seemed like a great idea so you’d agreed easily.

Getting ready was easy. Meeting Roman at his house and talking with his mom for so long that you were almost late getting to Brock and Jack’s place to all leave at the same time was easy. It all seemed like the night would go by easily and you’d have plenty of fun.

You just didn’t expect to have such an easy and fun night with the person you ended up with.

You’re glad you didn’t have to drive and you take a deep breath before the group of you enter the bar. Roman had seemed to shift into party mode in the car and you know that means he’ll be out all night. You see an opportunity right before you though.

“Jack!” You call him, watching as he turns around with a smile.

“Yes?”

You try to bite back your smile as you hold your hand out in front of you, pinky first. He laughs and wraps his finger around yours, turning and pulling you along the sidewalk behind him. You giggle a little and fall into step next to him, letting go first.

“Yeah, I got you. Just give me the look,” he reminds you, reaching forward and holding the door open, “ladies first.”

“Thank you,” you say, blushing a bit for reasons you’re completely unaware of as you duck into the bar.

It’s not a bad night by any means. Everyone is in a good mood and getting along, but you manage to get tired quickly. Your stomach rumbling is the final straw and you turn to your boyfriend, lacing your fingers in his to get his attention.

“Yeah, baby?” He asks, leaning closer so he can hear whatever you’re about to say.

“I’m hungry. Can we leave?” You pout a little, hoping it’ll win him over easily.

He groans, giving you a glimpse at the attitude he’d dropped the last couple weeks, “I really wasn’t ready yet. We haven’t been here that long.”

“They don’t have food though…”

“So why didn’t you eat before we left then? You knew we were going out tonight,” he says, looking at you like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You’re about to plead your case again when you look across the group and catch Jack’s attention. The lightbulb seems to go off then and your eyes go wide. You nod slightly towards his brother and he moves quickly, heading your way.

“Never mind, I’ll make Jack take me.”

Roman laughs but it’s cut short when his brother steps in front of him, giving a quick punch to his shoulder.

“You two behaving over here?” Jack asks, having no clue what you’d just said to Roman.

“I’m hungry,” you blurt out, “and someone isn’t ready to leave.”

“I can take you. I’m not really feeling it tonight anyways,” Jack shrugs, looking to his younger brother for permission.

Roman’s eyebrows furrow a bit but sending you with someone he trusted probably wasn’t the worst idea, “yeah whatever. We’re staying at your place tonight anyways so we’ll end up in the same spot.”

“Have fun, okay?” You turn Roman towards you, leaning up to kiss him quickly.

Jack looks away as you do, not wanting to see it for some reason that night. He finishes the last sip of his water you had no clue he had and sets the cup on the high top table next to him. Roman hands you off to his brother but not before giving you a quick slap on the ass.

“Not in public,” Jack corrects him, pushing Roman square in the chest gently.

The younger boy lets out a laugh and swats his brother’s hand away, “she doesn’t mind it.”

You bite your tongue over how wrong he is and push Jack’s arm until he starts moving towards the door, looking back at Roman as you do, “I’ll see you later. Try and behave please.”

He throws a wink your way and let’s you go without even thinking twice. You’re glad you thought to make that deal with Jack before walking in and you’re equally thankful that he could tell you needed help when you did.

“Where to? What are you hungry for?” He asks, grabbing his keys from his pocket, but opening your door for you.

You’re happily surprised by his action but you slip into the front seat regardless. He makes his way around and takes the driver's seat, giving you an expectant look.

“I have no clue, Jack. Just pick somewhere,” you giggle, buckling up and settling into the seat.

“Taco Bell it is,” he smiles as he puts the car into drive.

You gasp a little, excited that he picked there of all places. You take advantage of being the front passenger and lean forward, turning the radio on to a low volume. The music floats through the space and makes you feel more calm than you have been in a while.

You glance over at Jack, “can we all go skating this summer? I know it’s a weird time to go but I haven’t skated with you guys since we were kids.”

Jack smiles over at you, his heart thumping from the innocent question, “yeah of course we can. Brock has some extra ice time at one of the rinks by my parent’s place.”

You sit back, happy and a little buzzed, feeling on top of the world. Jack drives smoothly and you try not to watch his arm flex as he turns the wheel with one hand.

The night is almost too easy after you leave the bar. Jack doesn’t force conversation and you’re surprisingly happy to just hang out with him whether you’re talking or not. He refuses to let you pay for your food and when he parks the car, the two of you end up talking for hours after.

You both end up having to sneak back into Brock’s house, but luckily for you Roman never wakes up when you slip into bed that night.

—

You kick yourself the next morning, wondering why you were wide awake at 8am. You’d only gotten five hours of sleep, if you were lucky, but somehow your body decided that was enough. You sigh and slip out from under the covers, tossing your hair in a bun before heading for the kitchen. You were well versed in where Brock kept the coffee.

You quietly make your way to the kitchen but you’re greeted with the smell of freshly brewed coffee and your boyfriend's brother in nothing but shorts and a sleepy smile. You suck in a breath and offer a smile back, heading right for the coffee pot he was standing near.

“Good morning,” Jack mumbles, his voice sounding as sleepy as he looked. He runs a hand through his hair quickly but it does him no good.

You laugh quietly, pulling a mug out of the cupboard and filling it up, “morning, sleepy head. You sure you’re ready to be up?”

He lets out a little giggle that makes you turn and look at him. It was so unguarded and cute that you don’t even stop yourself from trying to block it out of your memory. You want to remember that one.

“I’m not sure why I’m up so early but if I am then coffee and dock fishing it is.”

You nod, not the least bit surprised at his plans, but you can appreciate the simplicity of them in the early morning hours. The fridge holds the coffee creamer you loved and you wonder if Brock even realized it when he bought it now or if it was just habit. Regardless you put some in your cup, knowing Jack was watching your every move.

“Jack,” you say suddenly, a little smirk dancing across your lips as he looks at you with raised eyebrows, “I’ve been meaning to ask you this. I heard Roman used to always beat you in skating races. Is that true?”

He’s just about to take a sip from his mug when you ask but he hesitates, shooting you a wicked grin, “he’s a liar. He didn’t always beat me.”

“Oh, not always?” You tease, not sure where the tone even comes from, but you like it.

He matches the energy easily though, quipping back, “I’m older though so I’m better… at everything.”

Your brain blanks for a second but the way he looks at you pulls a thousand thoughts forward at once. You blush instantly, turning your attention to your coffee mug that suddenly had the most interesting design on it.

“Can dish it but can’t take it, huh? I see how it goes,” he nods, finishing his drink before you’d even taken a sip of yours. His comment strikes the competitive side in you quickly.

“Oh I can take it,” you say, blushing all over again as you hear the phrase come tumbling out of your mouth, “Uhm, I mean… just stop giving me that look! You know what I meant!”

He shrugs, trying to bite back the smile that was on his face, “hey, you started this. I just came through to finish it.”

Your jaw drops a little, ready to argue, but you’re not in time. He rinses his mug and sets it to the side. He keeps his eye on you as he heads for the back door, giving you one last big smirk before leaving you alone to watch him through the window as he heads for the dock.

You realize it sounds like a stupid scene out of a movie. You’re standing there, sipping coffee, watching a cute boy through the window, and having thoughts that you probably shouldn’t about him. A creak on the stairs brings you back to earth as your boyfriend’s arms wrap around you.

“Hi, beautiful. How’s your morning?”

—

You couldn’t lie and say you’d been on your game since that morning in the kitchen with Jack. He’d shook you up somehow after that but what was worse is that he seemed to be keeping to himself any time you were around. You couldn’t help but wonder if you’d done something wrong but Roman was making up for it at least.

A knock on your apartment door gets your attention a week after the “kitchen talk” as you’d dubbed it to your friends. Claire had all but lost her mind over the story and you had to reel her back in, begging her not to say a word to Brock.

Opening the door gives you a happy surprise when you find Roman on the other side with flowers and a coffee. You can’t help but smile at him and lean in to kiss him quickly.

“What’s all this for?” You ask, taking both things and heading for your kitchen.

He follows along, looking incredibly proud of himself, “you just have seemed off so I was hoping it might boost your mood a little.”

It’s a sweet gesture and you’re thankful that he still notices how you’re feeling even though the two of you had some bumps along the way lately. You set everything down without even bothering to grab a vase, opting to turn around and give him a big hug, wrapping your arms right around his neck.

He squeezes back, rubbing a hand up and down your back. You let out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding and lay your head on his shoulder.

“I did need this. Thank you,” you say quietly as he sways the two of you back and forth.

He kisses your shoulder and keeps you close, “how was food with my brother the other night? I thought I heard you two in the kitchen the next morning.”

You’re glad you aren’t looking at him because your eyes go wide at what he must have heard, “oh, it was good. We got Taco Bell so I was pretty happy after that. He was up in the morning though, yeah.”

“I’m glad you two get along. I know he’s still figuring out how to be single again so sorry if he’s been bugging you lately. I don’t blame him for wanting to hang with you.”

You press your forehead against his shoulder, rethinking a lot of the time you’d spent with Jack lately. He was just trying to replace the whole his ex left. He had no real interest in you and you needed to remember that.

“He’s a cool guy. I don’t mind having him around,” you pull back, giving Roman a smile to let him know things were all good.

“Why don’t we just hang out here today? My plans are clear for you today,” he suggests, leaning down to kiss you.

You agree, knowing it was probably best to spend some time with your own boyfriend rather than his brother for once.

“Oh, we’re going ice skating tomorrow night by the way. Jack said you suggested it or something.”

You freeze, realizing that you had indeed asked. You just hadn’t expected him to remember or deliver on that promise. And just like that, you know you’ll have to play it cool again around him.

—

You had less than 24 hours to mentally prepare yourself to skate with the guys. You knew you couldn’t ignore Jack, and you really had no reason to, but you were nervous about seeing him again for some reason. You had been so distracted in fact that while you were cutting up chicken for your lunch earlier in the day you’d cut your finger bad enough to need a pretty decent sized bandaid right on your pointer finger.

You realize what a pain in the ass that is as you’re sitting on the bench at the rink, trying to lace up your skates and struggling with it. Roman had slipped his skates on quickly and you usually had no problem doing the same. Your finger hurt though and the bandaid kept getting caught up with the laces, causing your patience to start wearing thin. You’re ready to give up on it all when a familiar body sits next to you and pats your knee.

“Put it on my leg,” he says, seeing the struggle you were going through.

You look over at him and duck your head out of embarrassment, “I can tie my own skates. I’m just having some trouble.”

Jack laughs a little, grabbing your pant leg and pulling your leg over his thigh, “I know you can tie your own skates but it’s okay to ask for help every now and then too.”

You can’t even argue with that, opting to watch his hands quickly work your laces into place. You bite your lip, trying to pull your mind out of the gutter, but it doesn’t work very well. He finishes one skate and has the second one done sooner than you’d have liked it.

“You ready to get out there? I haven’t seen you skate in years,” he smiles as he stands, grabbing his gloves and stick from the bench.

“I’ve still got it,” you smile, picking up your own equipment and following him out onto the clean ice.

Not two strides out there and Roman stops hard in front of you, hitting you with enough of a snow shower to coat part of your pants. You look up, ready to smack him, but his brother beats you to it.

“Are you five years old again?” Jack reprimands, “give the girl a second to get her feet beneath her before you start acting like a jerk.”

You can’t help but laugh, covering your mouth and looking away. You’d never heard Jack talk to him like that and even Roman has a shocked look on his face.

“Don't agree with him!” Roman pouts at you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and giving you a fake headlock.

You giggle, pushing him off and jokingly hiding behind Jack, “no way! At this rate you’re going to end up checking me into the end boards.”

Roman shakes his head as Jack lets out the same laugh you’d heard in the kitchen that may or may not be on a small loop in your head some days. You peak around Jack, knowing Roman wouldn’t do anything. You’re met with his smirk and his next words make your heart skip a little.

“Yeah, yeah, I know you like Jack better than me so you’re just using him as your defense. Don’t be mad if I score on you guys later though,” he shrugs and turns to skate off.

Jack turns to look at you and you just know your face tells the little scare you’d just had. He gives you a matching look and shakes his head a little.

“He’s just kidding. We’re good,” he tries to reassure you but it does the complete opposite.

He skates off then and you’re left standing at the blue line wondering what the hell he meant when he said you two were good. Good about what? You two hadn’t done anything wrong technically. You take a deep breath and start to skate, knowing you had to play it off. Things were fine.

—

“My team sucked, it’s not my fault!” Roman complains as he tosses his stuff in the trunk of Brock’s car.

You put your own stuff in after, reaching for his hand when yours are free, “it’s okay, Ro, we can’t all be winners.”

He turns and meets your grin with a tiny one of his own, “oh you’re all full of trouble today aren’t you?”

You nod and lean up to kiss him quickly. The little skate had turned into a competitive pick up game that had you all exhausted afterwards. Brock invited everyone over after and you jumped on the opportunity.

“You love it when I’m like this,” you mumble, leaning against him.

“Hey, don’t be gross in the parking lot,” Brock calls, “get in the car, kids.”

You blush at getting caught and climb in the backseat quickly. Jack turns around from the front seat and gives you a look you can’t quite place, but it makes you squirm a little. Roman is quick to put a hand over on your thigh once he gets in and you lace your fingers with his to try and ground yourself again.

The ride back feels like a blur but you suddenly remember what you’d packed in your bag. You tap the back of Roman’s hand and wait for him to turn his attention to you.

“Can we do a face mask when we get back?” You ask, knowing he probably won’t but it was worth a shot.

He makes a face, “do I have to? They feel weird.”

You’d maybe scarred him last time when you’d used a not so great charcoal mask and it had stuck to the end of his eyebrow pretty bad. You get his hesitation on it.

“It’s a different kind this time! It won’t hurt.”

He curls his lip up a little, still not believing you. You’re about to plead your case one more time when Jack turns around.

“I’ll do it.”

“Oh thank god,” Roman sighs, giving you a bashful smile.

“Deal. I just don’t want to do it alone,” you smile at him, thinking it would be just fine.

And it is. Until Brock suggests a late night fishing venture and Roman jumps all over it. Jack is two seconds from agreeing when you stop in your tracks halfway up the front steps, realizing they’d be leaving you instead of joining your impromptu spa night.

“You guys are fishing?” You ask quietly.

They all turn towards you and the three of them deflate when they see how sad you look. Immediately they all start talking at once, apologizing, suggesting that you do it a different night, and more that you can’t even make out as they all try and talk at once.

“I’ll stay,” Jack says, his phrase breaking through the most. Brock and Roman stop and look over at him.

“Are you sure, dude? We can just hang back tomorrow night and do that,” Roman reasons with him, knowing he loved fishing more than anything.

Jack nods, seeming sure of his decision, “yeah that’s okay. I said I would so I’ll stay back and do it.”

You can’t help but smile at the fact he’s willing to keep up his end of the deal. Brock turns and keeps heading into the house, still keeping his plan of fishing. Jack follows as well, but Roman holds back. He comes back down two steps until he’s even with you.

“You sure you want to stay here with Jack and do that? I can do it tomorrow if you want to wait,” he offers, his hand grabbing your waist. His expression is soft, letting you know he actually would if you wanted to the next day but you’re just in the mood for it.

“I’d rather do it tonight, if you don’t mind. Especially after getting all sweaty from skating,” you shrug a little, hoping he’s okay with it.

He nods and kisses your forehead, “if it makes you happy then go for it. If he complains that he didn’t get to fish enough once summer is over though we’re blaming you.”

You laugh, knowing Jack would end up saying that even if he went every single day. You’d accept that blame for one night of staying in and decompressing.

With that, Roman heads into the house, making his way to Brock’s side as a small cooler gets packed for the two of them. You toss a couple waters in when they’re not paying attention, knowing they’ll want them eventually.

A quick kiss and a ‘be careful’ leaves you alone with Jack one more time. The kitchen was quickly becoming the spot you two had the most alone time and something about that feels too homey.

“You ready for this?” You ask, turning and looking at him.

He smiles and nods, “ready as I’ll ever be. I haven’t done one before.”

“Oh even better then! Come on.”

You make your way up the stairs, Jack following closely behind you and grabbing your bathroom bag from the spare room. Like a puppy, he follows you through the rooms and halls, leaning against the door frame when you finally put your stuff on the bathroom counter. He watches carefully as you pull out the masks, eyeing it up.

“Do you want to watch me do it first?” You meet his eyes through the mirror, suddenly very aware at how closely he was watching your every move.

He nods, taking a couple steps closer and looking over your shoulder as you open the container up. He frowns when he sees the color of it, making you laugh right away.

“Don’t make that face already. You haven’t even felt it,” you gently elbow his side and he moves out of the way, standing behind you instead.

You look up and catch his smile in the mirror. He looks too cute as he stands closer than you thought and you feel yourself blush suddenly. You pull some of the face mask from the jar and apply it evenly on your own face. You finish it in no time and Jack makes an unsure noise behind you.

“What if I mess it up?” He asks, his face pinched with confusion, “you were so fast with it.”

You laugh and turn around towards him, “it’s not hard. You just have to get it even.”

“I don’t think I can do it.”

“Do you want me to do it for you?”

He nods quickly and you shake your head. Maybe he and his brother weren’t so different. You motion towards the toilet, knowing it would be easier to apply if he sat.

“Okay, no fidgeting,” you tell him quietly, pulling the jar over with you and putting some on your fingers.

He gives you a nervous look as you step between his legs to put it on him. He blinks hard and starts leaning back immediately, making you start to laugh. You move quickly, putting some across his cheek, but it doesn’t go as planned. He jerks back, yelling about it being cold, and you reach for him immediately.

“Why is it cold?” He bellows, only stopping after you’d smeared some of the mask in his hair.

“Jack, don’t! Just sit still! Now you got it in your hair.”

“Get it out! No wonder Roman didn’t want to do this,” he whines.

You put your clean hand on the back of his neck and pull him back closer, “just trust me okay. It won’t hurt you.”

He takes a deep breath and looks up at you, leaning forward. You leave your hand on the back of his neck just in case he decides to flinch again. He seems to relax after a second as he lets his eyes close. He seems to subconsciously lean back into your hand, but not to pull away. You realize you’re standing much closer than you’d expected to and you’re suddenly grateful that you’re in an empty house together.

“You’re all set,” you whisper, “well except the stuff in your hair.”

“Will you get it out?” He mumbles, eyes fluttering open as he looks up at you.

Your breath catches in your throat, a nod the only answer you can give him. You step away to grab a washcloth and find yourself looking back at him right away. His eyes follow your moves again, but the silence is comfortable. You wet the cloth, making sure the water was warm, and step back over to him.

“Why does it feel tight?” He asks, frowning a little.

“Don't frown. You’ll make it crack,” you put a finger under his chin and tip his face up towards you.

You start to wipe the spot near his temple that had gotten the mask on it and it cleans off easily. You almost step away from him but you hesitate for some reason and turn your attention to him then. He’s staring back and it makes your stomach flip a couple times.

“Jack…” you whisper, the air starting to feel heavy. You couldn’t do this. You knew your feelings were fading fast for his brother but you couldn’t just jump over the way you wished you could.

“I know.”

It’s the only explanation he offers but it sets your mood at ease. He gives you a tiny smile and pushes you back a step, hands on your hips, and stands up.

“Now how long does this stay on? It feels like cement,” he jokes, turning to face the mirror. He leans in and starts poking at his face, earning a smack on the shoulder from you.

“Don’t pick at it.”

He turns and looks at the shoulder you’d just hit and then at you, “my goodness, you’re bossy today.”

He smiles immediately, ruining the mask and reaching up to scratch his cheek right away. You roll your eyes playfully, handing him the rag you’d already wet.

“You can take it off, you big cry baby,” you tease, watching him start to clean his face.

He gets it mostly cleaned and starts to rinse his hands off but he suddenly smirks at you as he catches your eye in the mirror. You frown for a second, confused about his sudden demeanor change. He turns suddenly and throws half a handful of water at you, splashing you right on the front of your shirt.

You let out a surprised shriek, jumping from the shock. He starts to laugh hard and you realize he’s distracted enough for you to step in and throw water at him. It hits him and he realizes what you’ve done, reaching to do the same again but you grab his wrist and try to pull him back.

“Don’t you dare!” You laugh, trying to push him away from the water.

He’s bigger and stronger though so he uses his other hand to reach around you on the opposite side, this time only flinging a little up towards your face. You squeal and try to duck away but quickly realize he’s got you backed against his chest and you’re stuck. You’re both laughing so hard you can barely stand and when you look at him in the mirror you realize what the two of you were doing.

You slowly loosen your grip around his wrist and clear your throat, “truce, okay? I need to clean my face off.”

He sees your mood shift and steps back with a nod, “I’m, uh, I’ll be downstairs if you want to hang out. It’s getting kind of late though so I might head to bed soon.”

“Okay,” you say quietly, letting his wrist go when he steps back.

You watch him hang his head as he leaves the bathroom and you grip the counter. You were being irresponsible around him and you couldn’t risk getting caught by Roman. You have to check yourself before you got yourself in trouble.

You clean up in the bathroom, wiping the counter off from all the water you’d flung around and heading back to the room you’d share with Roman that night. You’re up all the way until he comes back, smiling when he crawls in next to you. He immediately curls up around you and you have to swallow hard.

He wasn’t always a bad boyfriend and you’d been friends for a long time before you dated. You may not see eye to eye every day but you didn’t want to hurt him ever. Especially not when it was his brother who was involved.

—

“Are you sure you want to go over to their place tonight?” You tease Roman as he lays on you, head resting on your stomach as you play with his hair.

You hadn’t been back to Jack and Brock’s in two weeks and summer was quickly drawing to a close. You only had about a month left and it felt like you’d blinked and time disappeared. You wanted to go, but you were hesitant too. Especially after last time you’d been there.

“Yes, my brother gave me shit for being holed up with you for the last couple weeks. He said I need to share,” he laughs, likely not thinking twice about the comment Jack had made.

You nod to yourself, glad he wasn’t looking at you, “I’m okay with going if you want.”

He leans up then and gives you the same trouble maker smirk that made you fall for him in the first place, “you just want to see Brock’s dogs, huh?”

You laugh,your heart having skipped for a second at who he was going to say, “of course I do. They’re the cutest boys I know.”

He shakes his head and you hope he can’t tell how quickly you’d almost panicked over the possibility of him bringing his brother up again. He leans up and kisses you, surprising you with how gentle it was. He usually wasn’t much for romantics in the middle of the day but apparently this was an exception.

“Let me grab a different shirt and we can go,” he kisses your cheek quickly and pushes himself off the bed.

You’re almost mad at yourself for how quickly your brain gets scrambled at the thought of Jack. You get up and head to the bathroom to fix your hair while simultaneously hyping yourself up for the night ahead.

You find yourself 3 drinks deep some odd hours later when a chill runs through your body. You shiver immediately, despite being in front of a bonfire, and the cold seeps in through the long sleeve shirt you’d worn. You didn’t think it was supposed to get cold but apparently the weather had other ideas. Go figure in Minnesota.

“Ro?” You ask, gently grabbing his forearm to interrupt his conversation with Jack.

“Hmm?”

“I’m cold and I forgot a coat,” you frown, crossing your arms and rubbing them for emphasis.

He shrugs slowly, nodding his head towards the fire, “I don’t know what to tell you. Stand closer I guess.”

“You ass,” Jack smacks his shoulder, “You better be nicer or I’ll tell mom. Come on, we can go get you one.”

Roman scoffs, “you better not! It’s not even that cold out.”

You hesitantly start to follow Jack as he makes his way towards the house, shaking his head as he goes. He was obviously annoyed with Roman, that much you could tell. You weren’t sure if it was your best idea to go in alone with him after last time but you figured this was a tight timeline kind of situation.

Jack is surprisingly quiet the entire way up to his room, but he opens the closet and steps in, motioning at the hangers, “whatever one you like. Most of them are from St. Cloud though.”

You smile and start to look through the row of sweatshirts, well aware his eyes were on you. You can feel the blush that starts to dust your cheeks and you can’t help but glance over at him. He smiles as soon as you do and finally looks away.

“Do you have a preference on it? I don’t want to take one you really love.”

“No preference. I know how to get it back if I need to,” he smirks, making you take a deep breath and turn back to the fabric that was still in your hand.

You tug the sleeve farther to get a view and realize it’s one from Providence this year. Something about it with his number on the chest stands out and you pull it out.

“This is okay?”

“I think it’ll look great on you.”

You slip the black sweatshirt over your head and you’re immediately washed over with warmth. You dig your hands into the front pouch and smile at Jack, knowing it was probably two sizes too big on you. He can’t help but smile softly at you in his clothes. He had to look away to remember you still very much weren’t his.

“Don't let Roman give you shit for it either. I’m still telling our mom what he said to you,” he elbows your gently as he walks by. He knows not to spend too much time there with you. He knew better but he was only human.

You snort, “she’s gonna rip him a new one. She always does when he’s mean to me.”

“We all like you a lot,” he looks back at you, his words saying more than he initially spoke, but you hear it loud and clear.

You nod, reaching forward silently right before he hits the top of the stairs. He glances down and sees, extending his hand and grabbing yours. He squeezes tight and makes his way down to the first floor. As he hits the last stairs he lets your hand go and you ball your hand into a fist instantly. It was over sooner than you wanted it to be.

He opens the door for you as always and follows an extra half step behind you. You find Roman quickly and he looks guilty for a moment before he sees what you’re wearing.

“I’m sorry about before. I’m definitely going to start bringing a sweatshirt though wherever we go. You don’t look good in his number,” he scowls, but reaches for your hand.

You take his but quickly find yourself comparing it to the boy who’d just held it inside. You kick yourself and tuck in closer to Roman’s side. You couldn’t keep playing these games. You had to make your mind up soon.

—

The bonfire was fun, both you and Roman ending up in a game of beer pong later that had you drinking more than you’d planned, so bed was a welcome sight the night before. You’d pulled your clothes off and stole the shirt he kept tucked in a drawer in the spare room you always stayed in, not thinking about it at all.

You wake up far too early, as always, the next morning and immediately crave a cup of coffee. You were already thinking about taking the dogs down to the dock with you to enjoy it and you happily head downstairs, not even considering the fact you had no pants on.

The sight you find in the kitchen makes you freeze, almost running right back up the stairs, but he looks up at you just in time. His eyes widen a little but respectfully looks up at you. You can’t even force a word from your mouth before he’s sliding a cup of coffee onto the island.

“I made coffee. Here,” he smiles softly, watching as you make your way closer to him.

You peak over the rim of the mug and see the color of it. A little creamer just the way you liked it. You give him a soft smile immediately. No one but your mom ever knew how you liked your coffee. Sure, Roman knew your Starbucks order, but the way you took it at home in the quiet morning hours meant way more to you than one store bought version ever would.

“Thank you. I really appreciate it,” you pick up the warm mug and take a sip. It was perfect, possibly even better than when you did it, and you let out a sigh right after.

Jack can’t help but watch. You look so content and happy, even with your hair a mess and a smudge of mascara under your eye from the night before. He wasn’t sure when he became so interested in you’d but it had hit him like a tidal wave the night before. Apparently seeing you in his clothes really got him thinking. He squints a little at the shirt you’re wearing and smirks when he realizes what one it is.

You hardly notice, too lost in how good your coffee is, so you hop up onto the counter next to where he’s standing and squeeze his face gently, his smirk turning to pursed lips with the tiniest smile on them.

“This coffee is amazing. Thank you,” you smile at him, finally a little taller than him for once.

“You already said that,” he laughs, pulling back from your hand and stepping in front of you.

You don’t know why you do it but you let him step between your legs, making room for him to get closer. He sets his own mug on the counter before taking yours from you and placing it next to his. You’re silently thankful because the last thing you needed was to drop hot coffee on the two of you.

His hands come to rest on each side of your thighs, his right hand rotating in until his fingers are gently dancing up and down your bare skin. Goosebumps break out immediately and you bite your lip to stay quiet.

“You know whose shirt that is right?” He asks, his voice so low you can barely hear him even with how close you two are.

His hand stops as his thumb rubs deeper circles into your skin and you have to grab his shoulders for support. The air is so charged you feel like you could snap with one wrong movement.

“It’s Roman’s,” you whisper, wondering why he was asking.

He shakes his head just the slightest bit, “no, we both played for Cedar Rapids. That’s mine.”

You frown, not believing him. How would he know it’s his when there was no way to tell? He can tell you’re unsure so he makes the move on his own accord. His slips his hand from the spot it had been massaging on your thigh up your side and under your shirt.

“Jack,” you gasp, hands quickly moving to squeeze his biceps.

He lets out a low chuckle and grabs the tag inside the shirt. He flips the shirt up, exposing half your side and tugs the tag out to see. There, in black sharpie ink, is a little J. You stare at it hard, suddenly feeling like you’d done something very wrong. Technically you had been for the past month or so when you started letting him in your thoughts so much but now it was heavier, more real.

“We can’t…” you mumble, looking at him again.

His hand lets go of the tag and settles back on your bare side under the shirt, “I know, but answer this truthfully. Do you really like him? Does he treat you the way you want to be treated?”

“We’ve grown up together. I know him so well. I know your family so well. He and I were just easy to start.”

“That doesn’t answer my question. Do you really like him? Because I know you’ve only been together three months but has it been worth it?”

The way he’s looking at you makes you feel oddly calm. You know no matter what you tell him he’ll respect your decision. He won’t ever push farther than you’re comfortable. You take a deep breath and answer him the right way.

“I think I liked the excitement of having him at first, but I don’t think he and I are right for each other,” you admit, pulling your hands from him and tangling them on your lap.

Jack nods, pulling his hands back and gripping the counter, “it’s up to you then what happens next. I’ll never be mad at you either way so don’t worry about me. Do what you have to.”

“Thank you,” you say for the thousandth time that morning, but you really did mean it.

He leans forward and kisses your forehead, all the air seemingly leaving your lungs at once. It’s so gentle you barely feel it but it burns your skin at the same time. A good burn, you decide. You cup his cheek when he pulls back, running your thumb gently across his skin.

“Are you hanging out here today? I think we’re having another bonfire,” he leans into your hand, the soft smile on his face seemingly permanent.

You shake your head, “your brother comes first tonight. He wanted a movie night.”

The words seem to shock Jack for some reason and he stands up fully, taking a step back, “I gotcha. Hopefully you come back around soon then.”

You slide off the counter, shorter than him all over again, and reach for your coffee mug, “I’m going to refill this and take Coolie down to the dock with me.”

You glance towards the living room and see the pup lift his head from the plush bed he was laying on. Jack looks over too and laughs a little.

“We know who the favorites are here, huh?” He calls the dog who quickly scurries over.

You refill your cup while he pets Coolie, smiling when you glance over at them. You’re struck with an odd sense of comfort from it and you give yourself an extra moment to watch. You don’t hesitate too long though, tossing a goodbye over your shoulder and leaving Jack in the one place that always led to trouble between you two.

Jack hardly has a moment to breathe before Roman comes pounding down the stairs, a grin on his face. He didn’t hear a thing luckily, Jack can tell that much. Roman looks out the window above the sink, seeing you heading across the yard. He smiles a little and turns to Jack.

“Did you ever think we’d end up together?” He asks, genuinely wanting his brother’s input.

Jack winces, shrugging a little, “not really. We’ve all known each other so long and you two are so opposite.

Roman nods, looking back out at you again, “yeah that’s fair. I feel like she’s been off the last couple months though.”

“She seems fine to me,” Jack defends you, crossing his arms across his chest.

“I’m sure you’d know all about that. You’ve been hanging off her side all summer. Listen, I know you haven’t been single in a while but you don’t have to hang out with my girlfriend all the time.”

“Maybe if you treated her better she’d hang out with you more than me,” Jack argues back, kicking himself as soon as the words slip out.

Roman’s jaw tenses for a moment, “you don’t know anything about how I treat her or our relationship.”

“I know a hell of a lot more than you think.”

He’s surprisingly calm as he says it, so much so that Roman even hesitates to think about it. Jack had been the one in a long term relationship and Roman usually talked to girls for a bit and moved on. He files that away for a different time to ask you how you felt about it.

“I don’t want to sound like a dick,” Jack mumbles, “I hope that doesn’t come across wrong. You know you're my brother and I’d do anything for you.”

Roman nods, knowing he’d only said it with everyone’s best interest in mind, “no, you’re right I think. As much as I hate to admit that.”

Jack smiles at him finally and pushes his shoulder. Roman shrugs it off but knows what he needs to do before your movie night later that day.

—

You should feel cozy. You’ve got comfy clothes on, you’re under a blanket on your own couch, and there’s a movie queued up and ready to play. Except Roman can’t seem to sit down and he’s all keyed up. You feel the emotions rolling off him and finally you snap.

“Would you sit down? Or at least tell me what’s got you all worked up?” You sit forward, reaching for his hand.

He looks over at you, seeming shy suddenly, “do you think I treat you okay?”

“Uhm,” you stutter, instantly taken off guard by his question. You think for a moment, trying to get your thoughts in order before you follow up, “what makes you think you don’t?”

“I was just thinking about it earlier today. You’d call me out on it if I wasn’t, right?”

You nod slowly, “I mean I think so? It’s kind of an awkward thing to bring up to someone but I’d let you know.”

“Okay, good. You deserve to be happy so I want you to be treated well.”

You smile, feeling a little at ease when he finally sits down next to you. You settle into his side for the movie but your brain is spinning in overdrive. You’d heard murmurs from Jack when Roman does something to you that he doesn’t fully agree with. He wouldn’t have said anything though, would he? A week ago you would have said no way, but after the kitchen incident that morning… you weren’t sure of anything now other than the way your heart had flipped from Jack’s touch.

—

The movie night ran so long that you and Roman ended up sleeping on the couch. The only reason you get up that morning rather than staying nestled in his arms is the fact you need a bathroom break immediately after waking. You’re careful to untangle from him and before you go back, you start a pot of coffee. It was better when you woke up to someone having it ready for you, but you were independent. You could do this.

You end up staring at the pot as it brews, jumping when Roman comes behind you and wraps his arms around your waist.

“I’m sorry,” he laughs, kissing your shoulder.

You don’t put your hands over his arms like usual, but you do pat them for a second, “sorry, I was zoned out.”

“I see that. What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

“Too much,” you laugh, trying to play it cool.

“You want to darty with some of the boys today?” He asks, letting you go and reaching for a cup to get water.

“Not really,” you answer honestly, “I wanted to get some groceries and clean up around here.”

He frowns immediately, “why are you such a buzzkill? Why can’t we ever have fun?”

“Why do we always have to party, Ro? Why can’t we relax for one day? I can’t keep up with you,” you shake your head, instantly aggravated by his mood shift.

You take a deep breath, finally losing your cool, “we haven’t even dated for three months, Roman, and all we’ve done is fight. What are we even together for if we can’t get along?”

You were tired of it. You were so tired of always fighting over differing opinions. You and Jack barely disagreed but his brother could hardly make it a week without an argument with you. Roman doesn’t expect the bluntness but he’d been asking himself the same thing lately.

“We do fight a lot, huh?” He sets the still empty glass down on the counter.

You feel guilty then, knowing you shouldn’t have blown up like that, but you couldn’t hold it in anymore, “I’m sorry.”

He steps back over to you and turns you towards him, “no I’m sorry. I think we tried too hard to make this a thing when we should have just stayed friends.”

You nod, laughing a little, “of course the time we agree so easily is when we’re calling things off.”

Roman laughs too, shaking his head, “yeah, go figure. Is that what you want then? You want to go back to just friends?”

“I think it might be for the best. I don’t want to lose you as a friend, too.”

He pulls you into a big hug and you swear you couldn’t hold him any tighter. It’s an odd finish but you don’t feel any hard feelings from either side. He kisses the side of your head as he pulls away, giving you a gentle smile.

“You know if you ever need anything to just call me, okay? I’m still here for you.”

“Thanks, Ro. Same for you,” you nod.

He grabs the few things he had sitting around and slips his shoes on. An awkward wave is all he leaves you with and suddenly you’re all alone in your apartment, but you don’t feel alone. You feel an odd sense of calm instead as you go about your morning. You had no worries now. Well, none except for a certain brother of someone you’d just let walk out your door.

—

You spend two weeks doing your own thing. Whatever you want, whenever you want, with whoever you want. You saw friends more that week than you had all summer and you were out to eat at least half the days of the week. You were having fun and enjoying the last little bit of time before summer ended and the real world set back in.

You felt amazing from the reset. It’s not that Roman had suppressed you by any means, but there was something about knowing you wouldn’t be fighting with anyone that made your chest feel lighter.

You’re happily cleaning up after dinner, singing along to the song that played through your speakers, when your phone buzzes on the counter. Your heart always stops for a second before you check the name. Part of you may have hoped it was Jack, but in the two weeks since you’d had your moment that changed things in the kitchen you hadn’t heard anything. You figured things only changed for you and not him. You were silly to think you could go from one brother to the next.

Your friend had texted you about brunch the next day and you quickly tap a reply before skipping the current song you had on. You finish loading the dishwasher and dry your hands on a towel, looking around to make sure your kitchen was all cleaned up.

You’re about to pour another glass of wine when a knock on the door gets your attention. You pause your music and check the peephole, quickly opening the door when you see who it is.

“Jack?” You're surprised, shocked even, but he smiles like there’s not a problem in his world.

“Hi, stranger. Haven’t heard from you in a while,” he answers.

“What are you doing here?” You question, not having expected him, but realizing you wouldn’t have wanted to see anyone else standing where he was.

“I just wanted to make sure I didn’t do anything wrong? I heard what happened.”

His question has you reaching for him and pulling him inside quicker than you have time to think, “What could you possibly have done? If anything you got me to hang on longer than I thought I would.”

His worried expression doesn’t drop when you pull him in and he’s quick to shut the door behind him.

“Hang on longer? To what?” He asks, a little confused but also trying not to get too excited about how quickly you’d reached for him.

“If it weren’t for you, I maybe would’ve given up the fight a little sooner than I did. But you always see the good in people and it made me want to see the good in my relationship, but then I realized maybe I was hanging on for the wrong reasons… for the wrong brother. I wanted to keep my ties with you as much as I did him.”

Jack is shocked by what you say but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t happy to hear it, “the wrong brother? That’s a big statement right there. Are you sure?”

The thought was scary and you had no clue what the fallout might be from it, but you knew you liked him. You liked being around him, spending time with him, and keeping each other company.

“I definitely picked the wrong brother I think,” you laugh nervously.

He had every right to shoot you down. You had just broken up with his little brother after all. When you really thought about it, which you had been doing a lot lately, he was the one that was always looking out for you, making sure you were comfortable and happy, always someone who could make you laugh despite whatever had led to making you feel like you could cry. Jack knew the situation could be messy considering who you had just broken up with but he couldn’t deny that the way you fit in his life wasn’t something he was willing to give up.

He can’t help the little smile that comes onto his face even though you look so nervous you could cry, “I always knew Grant would win one of these days.”

It’s so ridiculous that you do let out a couple tears but you’re laughing so hard you almost double over. Jack matches it, but starts to move a little closer until his hands find your hips.

You take a deep breath and grab onto his arms, “would your mom hate me? I really miss her already.”

“I’m probably 99% sure my mom loves you more than any of her actual sons,” he shakes his head, but it wasn’t a lie. She thought the world of you, “you know she pulled me aside the other day after Roman told her about you guys. She said I needed to look out for you still.”

Your face shows the shock you feel but there’s something else with it too. A sense of excitement that you hadn’t messed up a major part of your life by dating a childhood friend and having it go wrong.

“Oh she did?” You finally ask, smirking up at him.

“That’s a troublemaker’s look if I’ve ever seen one from you. What are you thinking?”

You shrug, but quickly look down at his lips before looking back up, “I can think of a few things.”

“I leave soon though. Two more weeks and I’m back to Providence,” he warns but neither of you pay attention to that.

“Make it worth it then.”

“Oh I plan on it. Now we can actually do this without sneaking around in kitchens,” he smirks.

You laugh and pull him closer, wrapping your arms around his neck, “no one I’d rather sneak around with.”

You knew it wasn’t ideal and you’d have to be careful with how fast things went but you knew he’d treat you the way you deserved. He’d always treat you better than anyone else.

#roman ahcan #jack ahcan #wisconsin hockey #providence bruins #hockey fic #my writing #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #college hockey fic #brock boeser #he's mentioned lol #a lot #mine

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cades-outsider · 3 years

Text

Eli/Hawk X Reader

Warnings? Seven minutes in Heaven, language, and hawk being hawk

I’m only a fool for You

You had fallen, and you had fallen hard. You couldn't help it, Eli was such a sweet, caring, and handsome boy, and one he loved someone he devoted his heart to them.

You always thought of his lip as a battle scar and it showed how strong he was. You would always help him when people were picking on him or doing mean things to him and Demetri.

Demetri thought you were a complete fool for getting in the middle of it. But none the less he liked you even more for it, platonically of course.

He was to in love with Yasmin to even think nor look at another girl. You always had your eyes on Eli and Eli only. Demetri knew, he might've been clueless sometimes but he seen the small glances you played, or how you would run your finger over Eli's lip and tell him he was beautiful.

Even the one time you kissed just above his lip to show him that you loved everything about him. Oh and who can forget the time Kyler and his friends bullied both Eli and Demetri in the library that day.

Kyler holding Eli's chin roughly saying "what girl would ever kiss this" with a disgust look on his face. You quickly stepped up and said 'Me' then you proceeded to slap Kylers hand away from Eli and placed your lips on his lovingly.

To say Eli was head over hills for you was an understatement, he was IN love love with you. Ever since the first day you came up to him in 5k he knew that he was in love with you.

Of course he was to young to know what love was like, but he felt something and as time grew he realized that he was in love with the Y/n L/n and he couldn’t be happier.

Though he felt like you deserved someone who could protect you and stand up for you, so once Cobra Kai came out he took the opportunity and joined.

That was two months ago and in the time Eli had no longer became the sweet, shy, and innocent little boy. Oh no, he was.... turning out to be his worst enemy.... a bully.

Today was like any other day, you worked up the courage as you walked over to Eli who was laughing with his new 'friends' the sight broke your heart, remember how he would laugh with you.

Draining all the courage you had down the sink you finally came face to face with Eli, or now as he calls it Hawk.

"Eli?" You say softly catching his attention as he stops laughing and turns around towards you.

"What?" He asks rudely.

"We need to talk" you say holding your head up high, confidence you didn’t know you had now sparking.

"We are" Hawk says bluntly as his friends began to laugh behind him.

"Fine but just know I tried" you say harshly as you turn and walked away, walking to your first class of the day.

As Hawks friends began to laugh, Eli’s head falls down as he can feel and hear his heart crushing. But he replaces it with a confident smile before turning back around with his friends. Trying to push his feelings and thoughts of you away.

Man he’s such a fool for you.

Your feelings were crushed yeah, but we're you going to let yourself suffer by crying over a boy? No you were not.

You needed to get your mind off of things, so instead of driving to the strip mall you decided to walk. Plugging in your earbuds and listening to one of your favorite songs of all time you start walking down the side walk in no rush seeing as the day was very beautiful and you wanted to take in the fresh air.

The walk really felt like it was what you needed, it was soothing plus the music helped get Eli off your mind a lot more.

Finally coming up to the famous well only grocery store there is around here you noticed a red Mohawk, knowing that famous hairstyle anywhere.

You curse yourself finally having him out of your head, but of course he'd have to be in the one place you were hoping to get peace alone.

You walk with a not-so-much pep in your step, more of a dragging your feet alone the pavement. Yeah that sounds about right.

"Look who it is Miss. Desperate" Hawk says as him and his friends bust out laughing.

That was the final straw for you, you had tried for months to get him to talk to you alone so you could finally confess but if he wanted to play that game then so be it.

"You know what Eli? I am so sick and tired of your bullsh*t!" You yell causing both Hawk's friends and himself to go quiet.

"I spent the last TWO months trying to talk to you, trying to tell you the thing I've been wanting to say since pre-school! But with this new facade it'll never happen" you scoff as you turn around, walking as fast as you could.

Finally making it back home you run upstairs to your room and slam the door out of frustration 'who does he think he is?!'

As if on cue you get a call from Moon "hello?" You say trying to calm yourself down.

"Y/n babe hey!" She yells excitedly.

"I’m having a party over at my place tonight at 8 be there pleaseeee" Moon begs.

You sigh "alright Moon I’ll be there" you say knowing she wouldn’t back down until you said yes.

You were going to look your best tonight, knowing Moon she would most likely invite everyone and say "come on guys we all should just get alone" as she always does, trying to uplift people.

You grab your favorite tight black dress and some red heels, doing everything in the bathroom making sure not to miss anything.

Sighing happily at your appearance you grab your purse and make your way out. Less than ten minutes later and you pulled up in Moon’s drive way to see literally the whole school in her backyard.

Getting out of your car you find yourself getting stumbled into a circle by other drunk kids. It was seven minutes in heaven, wait. When did you even get inside?

Whatever. Deciding to play you sit down completing the circle, as Hawk who didn’t even notice you were here yet spun the bottle.

'Please don’t land on me' you repeated over nearly 100 times as everyone kept there eyes glued to the body. Low and behold the bottle landed on you.

Hawk's eyes travel up to you, excitement spreads through his eyes as he soon shuts it down not wanting others to witness.

You groan as you both get up and some random guy leads you into a small spaced closet before closing and locking the door setting a timer for seven minutes.

The first two minutes you both spent in awkward silence, soon giving up Hawk breaks "look Y/n I’m sorry for treating you the way I have" he says looking down guiltily.

"I never meant to hurt you or push you away.... I just wanted to impress you" Eli mumbles the last part.

"Eli.... what part of bullying people would impress me?" You question really wanting to know.

"It wasn’t meant to go this way.... why didn’t I just admit I was in love with you? Oh I know why. Because I was scared!" He yells, soon gasping as he realized he just spilled his secret.

You place a hand on his cheek "Eli.... I’m in love with you to" you say gently not wanting to alarm him.

"R-really?" He asks as his voice cracks.

"Really" you say nodding as you lean in just above his lips and kiss his scar.

"I love all of you" You smile softly as his cheeks redden, your Eli finally coming back.

"You missed" He says cheekily as he wastes no time in pressing his lips against yours closing the gap.

The kiss was slow, sweet, and genuine you knew Eli meant it through every little movement, until you both pull away "I’m only a fool for you"

_______________________________________________

Thank you @peachymelon69 for requesting I hope you enjoyed!

#wattpad #robby keene #cobra kai imagine #cobra kai x reader #eli moskowitz x reader #hawks x reader #hawk #hawk x reader #hawk imagine #eli moskowitz #eli moskowitz imagine #daniel larusso #johnny lawrence x reader #johnny lawrence #requests open #any requests?#requests #request

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futurebicon · 3 years

Text

New Prompts

Made another one (it's a simpler one)

Send in the prompts and which couple you want it written about

cold hands in warm hands

running their thumb over the other’s hand

squeezing hand for comfort and encouragement

linking hands together during sex

grabbing hand to show them something

holding hands while skating

playing with each other’s fingers

grabbing the other’s hand to pull them back from something

holding hands under the table

grabbing the other’s hand so they don’t fall

bandaging the other’s hand and not quite letting go

holding hands while driving

raising the other’s hand to their lips to kiss it softly

holding hands while jumping down from somewhere together

comparing hand sizes, then linking fingers together

touching foreheads

running fingers through hair

hiding face in neck

feeling their pulse

listening to the other’s heartbeat

pushing a strand of hair behind their ear

putting an arm around the other’s waist

massaging them

holding the other’s chin up

high fiving

bandaging/stitching up an injury

falling asleep on the other’s shoulder

carrying the other one in their arms

whispering in their ear, lips touching the skin

stroking the other’s arm soothingly

kissing the top of their head

pulling the other one towards them

tickling the other one

doing a pinky swear

caressing the other’s back

kissing their bruises and scars

putting their head on the other’s chest

braiding the other’s hair

giving them a piggy-back ride

sitting on the other’s lap

feeling their temperature

putting a hand over the other’s mouth to shut them up

fixing someone’s tie

smiling at them from across the room

asking them about things they enjoy talking about

watching movies and shows together

offering to help with chores

remembering things they told them

listening to each other rant

writing each other notes

giving small gifts without special occasion

soft laughs

laying their hand on the other’s leg

guiding them with a hand on the small of their back

placing their chin on the other’s shoulder

calling them nicknames

winking at them

teasing each other good-naturedly

putting an arm around the other’s shoulder

washing the other’s hair

taking a photo of the smiling or in their element

looking in each other’s eyes

putting a blanket on them

tugging at the other’s clothes to keep them close

randomly face-timing just to hear their voice/see their face

pressing their foreheads together

laying awake, watching the other sleep

smiling for no reason, other than looking at each other

head in the other’s lap and both reading

bringing them their favorite takeout

smiling when the phone rings and their picture pops up

saying ‘I love you’ for the first time

giving each other keys to their homes

getting engaged

going through tough times together (optional: send prompt for what that tough time is)

being fiercely protective

goodnight kisses

morning kisses

slow kisses

kisses on the cheek

kisses on the corner of their mouth

kissing each other breathless

short pecks

forehead kisses

kisses on head

kisses in the rain

giggling while kissing

neck kisses

gentle stroking of cheeks

hushed conversation in-between kisses

kissing it better

jaw kisses

wake-up kisses

kissing away tears

kisses to shut them up

slowly kissing down the body

sleepy kisses

feather-light kisses

secret kisses

hug around the waist

hugging while twirling around

hugging and gently holding the other’s head

pulling someone into a hug

hiding their face in the other’s neck

clinging to each other

hugging while lying down together

hugging with head on shoulder

‘not wanting to let go’ hugs

hugging from behind

cuddling

hugs and kisses

hugging while straddling the partner

‘picking them up’ hugs

"God, I love you" Kisses

Kisses that end with laughter

Never wanting to pull away kisses

Multiple face kisses

Kisses accompanied by happy tears

Kisses accompanied by sad tears

Kisses that get interrupted

Kisses to help them concentrate

Kisses as a reward

Matching Tattoos

Kiss on the back

Exhausted parents kiss

Hiding/hoping not to be caught kiss

Against a wall kiss

Holding their hands when they are shaking.

Giving them a kiss before going to work and they are still in bed.

Sitting in comfortable silence

Singing and dancing to their favorite song (optional: request the song)

Calming them down when they have a bad dream.

Having a tickle fight until you’re breathless.

Tracing your names together in the sand.

Sharing a drink with them from the same straw.

Letting them warm their cold hands under your shirt

Making a goofy face until they notice and laugh

An accidental brush of lips followed by a pause and going back for another, on purpose.

A kiss that lasts so long, they are sharing each other’s breaths.

A hello/good-bye kiss that is given without thinking - where neither person thinks twice about it.

One person pouting, only to have it removed by a kiss from the other person.

Deep kisses where they have their hands tangled in each other’s hair to pull them closer.

Kisses exchanged while one person sits on the other’s lap.

One person tracing the other’s lips with a fingertip

Staring at each other’s lips for a moment before moving closer

Cuddling in a blanket fort

Sparring/training and coughing/sneezing.

Broking Down

Oxygen Mask

Heat Exhaustion

Panic Attacks

Chronic Pain

Withdrawal

Exhaustion

Migraine

Concussion

Power Outage

Extreme Weather

Emergency Room

Intubation

Reluctant Bedrest

Ignoring an Injury

taking each other’s hands during a stressful situation, instantly relieving the pressure of the situation

Swapping all their clothes, even though they have different body types

calling the other by a nickname only they use

being cute with animals

both waking up in the middle of the night and going on an adventure to find the perfect snack

playing Mario Kart

having a water balloon fight in their own backyard

surprising the other one with a picnic

brushing their teeth together and smiling at each other in the mirror

having a secret signal for parties that means “Let’s go home now”

taking a walk through a park or a forest and admiring the colors

going to the zoo and pointing out the coolest animals

making pottery together and carving in their initials as a memento for the cute date

playing board games in a small café

swimming in a lake together

going to a fair and playing games and going on the Ferris wheel

going to the movies and buying their favorite treats

watching the sunrise or sunset together

going camping nearby and enjoying the time without distractions

making excuses to be close

stealing each other’s clothes and not admitting to it

calming down when the other one is close

Kissing on sofa

Twirling a strand of their hair

Heart eyes

Leaning into the others hand, turning their head and pressing a kiss to the palm

giggly cuddles

chasing someone’s lips after they pull away

play wrestling

skateboard

play guitar

skip rocks on water

wrapping your arms around your lover's neck

surprise kisses

pulling your lover closer by the waistband

kissing under the stars

kitchen counter make-outs

stopping a kiss when it gets too heated

Hugging them as they're crying.

Taking their hand as they're about to hear bad news.

Making them a friendship bracelet.

Staying by their side when they've been hospitalized

Catch and release fireflies

crying over how lucky you are to be loved by your lover

Promise ring

Chronic illness

Home alone

Getting grounded by parents and not being able to see each other

#prompt list #lumosinlove #coops #oknutzy #odarwin #jarc #adlila #dumo #send prompts #also send prompts for part 3 of The Lions for Dummies #tw

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stargazer-sims · 2 years

Text

28 - Faith

Davian is inside the house on a bright summer afternoon, and he's surprisingly not restless. Typically, he'd be itching to get out and do something, even on a Monday. He'd want to go to the beach or the park, or maybe he and Félix would be playing tennis, a sport Davian is terrible at but which Félix loves. Instead, he's spending this Monday afternoon on the sofa, playing games on his Switch, tired from a weekend that had somehow managed to be both eventful and... not eventful.

Félix hadn't fared particularly well after having the implantation procedure on Saturday morning. He went to bed almost immediately when they arrived home and slept until nearly dinnertime. When Davian had gone up to check on him and tell him dinner was ready, he found him tossing around fitfully in his sleep and burning with fever.

Davian isn't ashamed to admit he'd panicked at this development, and phoned his mother for advice. Charmian St-Jean, perhaps the world's most unflappable woman, informed him that the first thing to do was to settle down, as he'd be no good to Félix or anyone else in such a state. Then, she gave him a list of instructions, which she finished off with, "Keep checking his temperature every couple of hours. If it's still that high in the morning, don't even bother calling that strange little clinic. Just take him directly to the hospital."

That thought had utterly terrified Davian, but he tried his best to stay calm. Unable to convince Félix to eat even a few bites of food, he made him a smoothie with fruit and yogurt, and then had to hold the cup for him while he drank it with a straw. Coaxing him into a lukewarm bath was even harder than getting him to eat or drink, and it broke Davian's heart to see him sitting in the tub, shivering and tearful, pleading with Davian to stop torturing him and just help him back to bed.

Davian got into bed with him after they were done in the bath, and it seemed all Félix could do was cling weakly to him and cry as if nothing would ever be right again. Davian didn't know how to comfort him, other than to hold him and tell him that he'd be better soon and everything would be fine.

"Why did I let myself do this?" he'd sobbed against Davian's chest. "I hate being sick!"

Saturday night had been a very long night.

By Sunday morning, they were both exhausted, but Félix's temperature was down and he was in better spirits. He still had a slight fever and was still complaining that his belly was sore and that he was generally achy all over, but he willingly ate the oatmeal with blueberries and maple syrup that Davian fixed for him, and asked for some coffee and some orange juice to go with it. He'd spent most of the day in bed, only making a brief foray to the roof for some sunbathing in the afternoon.

He's been about the same since Sunday morning. Although Davian is still concerned, he remembers Dr. Zira saying the flu-like symptoms could last for up to five days. He hopes Félix is fully recovered by mid-week, but he's not going to let himself stress over it too much until then.

He's battling virtual monsters when he hears a noise at the foot of the stairs. At first, he ignores it because he thinks it's probably just Mrs. Picard doing something downstairs in the flower shop. Sometimes, she likes to open both the door that connects the stairway to the interior of the shop and the one that opens from the stairway into the backyard, to let fresh air in. Or maybe it's her new employee, who hasn't quite figured out that there's also a stock door at the back of the shop, and they don't have to drag supplies through the stairway that leads to Félix and Davian's flat.

It's only when he thinks he hears footsteps ascending that he starts to pay attention. Now, he knows it's not Mrs. Picard. It's not as if she doesn't come up here, but she'd let them know in advance if she was coming. She wouldn't simply show up unannounced.

Whoever it is, they're practically stomping up the steps.

A moment later, their visitor is revealed as Sophie. She looks both worried and pissed off, and it's a dreadful combination.

She glances around quickly, and her gaze locks onto Davian. "What are you doing here?"

Davian puts his game controller on the end table. "Excuse me? I live here."

"I wasn't expecting you."

"You weren't expecting me? In my own house?" Davian says, incredulous. "I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be. I should be asking what the hell you're doing here."

"I'm here to check on my brother," Sophie says. "I've been texting him repeatedly for the past two hours, but he wasn't replying, so I thought I'd better come over, just in case he was alone and needed something."

"You thought he was alone?"

"Where is he?"

"He's upstairs in our bedroom," Davian says. "He's sleeping. And there's his phone." He waves in the direction of the TV stand, where Félix's bright orange phone is lying next to the remote. "I didn't hear any alerts, so it's probably on silent."

"Is Félix okay?"

"He hasn't been feeling well since Saturday night, but if you were actually texting with him at all this weekend, you'd already know that." he gets up from the sofa so he doesn't have to crane his neck to make eye contact with her. "What are you really doing here?"

"I told you," Sophie says. "I came to check on Félix."

"To see if he was alone or not?"

"Yes."

"You didn't have to come in for that," says Davian. If you drove past the shop, you would've seen the truck out front."

"Your truck being here doesn't necessarily mean you're here."

"Seriously, what is your problem with me?" Davian folds his arms across his body and glares. "Saturday morning, you were acting like you didn't trust me to look after Félix, and now you're barging in here, assuming he's alone, like I'd just leave him when he's sick."

"Can you blame me for being concerned?" Sophie says. "If you did leave him, it's not as if it'd be a surprise."

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means exactly what it sounds like,” says Sophie. “You’re not great at staying in one place for too long, are you? And we all know you’ve walked out on Félix before.”

“You make it sound like I’d just abandon him,” Davian says. “I’ve never walked out on him. He always knows where I am, and we keep in touch, and if he needed me while I was away, I’d come home.”

“I’ve got news for you, Davian. He always needs you,” Sophie says. “You don’t know what he’s like when you’re not here.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Every time you leave, it’s like there’s another crack, and the next one might be the one that shatters him. Do you want that on your conscience?”

“What do you expect me to do? Never travel for work again? Just go back to delivering pizza full-time and let Félix support me with his pay cheque? But then you’d probably bitch about me not doing my fair share, wouldn’t you?” He spreads his hands in a gesture of exasperation. “There’s literally no way to win, is there?”

“It’s not about winning.”

“Then what is it about?”

Sophie regards him for a long moment. “Félix loves you, and you’re hurting him.”

Davian fights with all his will to keep his anger under control. He can feel it boiling just beneath the surface, wanting to explode outward in a fierce burst. The only thing that prevents him from losing it completely is the thought of Félix, asleep upstairs.

He doesn't deny that he has hurt Félix in the past. Félix had said as much himself on Saturday morning. But, he's hurt Davian as well, and Davian would be surprised if he couldn't or wouldn't acknowledge it. Neither has ever done anything to harm the other deliberately, though. Neither wants the other to suffer. It's just the way relationships are; sometimes people make bad choices and end up hurting their partner without meaning to.

Davian has promised to do better. He intends to, because despite what everyone around him apparently thinks, he does love Félix. He wants to protect him, wants him to feel safe and happy, and if that means some sacrifices on Davian's part, then so be it. He knows it'll be difficult, and he expects he's still going to mess things up, but he has to try his best, at least.

And what was the first thing Félix had said he needed to do to make things better? Communicate how you're feeling. He supposes there's no time like the present to attempt this approach, rather than giving in to his usual methods of dealing with situations he doesn't like or finds overwhelming.

He takes a deep breath and holds it for a few seconds, forcing his mind to focus, to respond rather than to react. He exhales slowly.

"Sophie," he says. "Mine and Félix's relationship is none of your damn business, and I don't appreciate you trying to tell me what I should or shouldn't do. It's insulting."

"Someone needs to tell you," says Sophie. "Because obviously you have no clue."

"You don't think Félix is capable of telling me? That doesn't say much about what you think of him either, you know."

"Even if he did tell you, would you listen? As far as I can see, you think everything is all about you. It's whatever works to your advantage and whatever suits your lifestyle. You do a good job of acting like you care, but when things start getting inconvenient, you disappear and leave the rest of us to deal with the mess you made."

"Get out," is all Davian says. It's all he can manage without losing control and raising his voice.

"I won't,' Sophie says. "Not until I see my brother."

"I told you, he's sleeping."

"I want to see Félix." She enunciates each word, as if she thinks Davian is incapable of hearing or understanding her. "I'm not leaving until I know he's okay."

"Sophie, he's fine. Do you think I'd lie to you about that?"

“How would I know what you’d lie to me about? If you're not above lying to your own husband, I don't imagine you'd have any problem lying to me."

"That's it!" Davian is unable to contain himself any longer. "That's enough! I might be a lot of things, but I'm not a liar and I don't break my promises. You've got no right to come in here and talk to me like that, especially when I literally spent the last three days inside this flat, looking after my husband. If you were so worried about him not being okay and me supposedly lying to you about it, you could've showed up before now, you know. But I guess you were too busy working on your tan and making out with your man on the beach."

"Leave Katie out of this! It has nothing to do with her," Sophie says. "And she's not a man."

"Then she needs to hide that package better," Davian says. It's unnecessarily mean, but at this point, he doesn't care. Being angry about Sophie's intrusion was one thing, but now he's hurt and offended, and he can’t quite hold back the urge to fight pain by causing pain.

"You—" Sophie begins

Davian holds up a hand. "No. I don't even want you talking to me right now. I want you to listen, 'cause I'm not done," he says. "I know you don't like me. Most people don't give a shit about me, but I can live with that, and you know why? It's because of Félix. He's the only person in my life outside my family who ever accepted me for who I am, and he's the only one who actually believes I can be better. To him, I'm not just some poor, stupid college dropout from the wrong side of the canal. If you think I'd repay that by lying to him and deliberately hurting him, then go ahead. Hate me all you want, but I want you to know that while you and the rest of the world are busy hating me, I'll be loving your brother like he's the only good person left on Earth."

By the time Davian finishes this speech, he's shaking all over and he's clenching his hands so tightly that his nails are cutting into his palms a little.

Sophie watches him impassively, and then she says. "Davian, you are so full of shit."

"Get out!" This time he shouts it at her, with as much power as his lungs can generate. "Get the hell out of our house right now!"

For one awful second, it looks as if she's going to defy him, like she's going to turn and head up the stairs to the bedroom. They engage in a staring contest that feels like it lasts an eternity, but which is actually far less than a minute.

Sophie blinks first.

"Fine," she says. "But, I'll be back."

"Not if I have anything to do with it," he says.

"You can't stop me from visiting my own brother."

He's about to say something when he hears Félix calling to him from upstairs. His voice sounds pitiful and a little scared. "Davian? What's going on down there?"

"It's your sister," Davian calls back, "She's just leaving."

A moment later, Félix appears on the stairs. He's holding onto the wall for support, and makes his way down slowly.

"Félix!" Sophie says. "You look awful. Are you all right?"

He walks past her and straight into Davian's outstretched arms. Davian draws him close, and Félix rests his head on Davian's shoulder. "Why were you shouting? Is everything okay?"

"No, everything's not okay," Davian tells him. "Sophie came over here because she thought you were by yourself. She thought I left you alone."

He looks up just enough so he can see her. "Sophie?"

"You didn't reply to any of my texts," she says.

"Because my phone was down here, and it was off," he tells her.

"I tried to explain that," says Davian.

"Why were you shouting?"

"It's between me and Davian," Sophie says. "It's nothing you need to worry about."

"Actually, I think it is," Davian says. "Sophie, what was it you were saying about lying to Félix a minute ago? You might want to try a page from your own book now, don't you think?"

Sophie stares daggers at him. "Maybe I do hate you," she says.

"Sophie!" Félix exclaims. "What's going on?"

"What's going on," says Davian, "is that your sister doesn't trust me. She thinks I don't care about you and that I lie to you and that I'm only with you because it's convenient."

"That's not true," Félix says, sounding hurt. "Sophie, how could you think that?"

"A couple of weeks ago, you were worried about him leaving you," Sophie says. "How can you not think that?"

"So, nobody's allowed to have insecurities now?" Davian says. "Anyway, like I already said, you don't know anything about our relationship, and what goes on between us is none of your business. We weren't in a great place a couple weeks ago, but now we are. That's all you need to know."

"Sophie, you don't... you don't really hate Davian, do you?" Félix asks.

Sophie makes a frustrated huffing noise. "No, but I hate what he's doing to you. How long are you going to let this go on?"

"Let what go on?"

"He's taking care of you now, but how long will it be before he disappears again?"

"He's not going to," says Félix. "He promised. No more vanishing. Even if we're not always in the same place, from now on he's always going to tell me before he goes anywhere."

"And I'm still going to bring you flowers before I go," Davian says.

"Yes," says Félix.

"And that'll make it okay? Flowers?" Sophie says.

"It's not about being apart," Félix says. "Of course I don't like that, but it's our reality, isn't it? The problem was never about being apart. It was about not warning me that we were going to be apart, and not communicating enough when we’re not together. And yes, the flowers do make it better."

"We'll see if he sticks to what he says.”

"He will," Félix says. "We're working on our communication, aren't we? That'll improve other things, too. We’re going to make this work.”

Sophie looks annoyed. "This all sounds too familiar to me, like we’ve heard those empty words before.”

"Look," says Davian. "We're doing what we gotta do for us, not for anybody else, and that includes you. Feel free to believe whatever the hell you want. Your idea of the truth doesn't change what the actual truth is."

"Right," Sophie says. "Obviously, nothing I say matters to you, but if you hurt my brother one more time—"

"Sophie," Félix interjects. "I'm really tired and I'm not feeling well. I don't want to hear any more of this. I think the best thing for you to do now is to leave. I can call you tonight, okay?"

She looks like she might protest, but she acquiesces with, "Okay, fine. If you want me to leave, I will. You don't have to call me tonight. Just let me know when you're feeling better. We can go someplace and talk like civilized adults."

"You can't say—" Davian starts.

"Dav, don't," Félix says softly. "Please."

Davian sighs. He rests his cheek against the top of Félix's head and whispers, "I'm sorry."

"It's all right," Félix says, as they watch Sophie march down the stairs. "I should be apologizing to you. She's my sister."

"You have no control over her."

"No, but I still feel bad about this."

"You shouldn't," Davian says. "I could see this coming, and in a way it's my own fault. Neither of you are wrong about me being absolute shit at communicating. I know I have to work on that. But, I swear I've never lied to you, and I never want to hurt you."

"I know," Félix says. "We're going to work on everything we need to work on. You promised we'd have an amazing family, and I know we will. I believe in you. In us."

Davian doesn't remember the last time he actually cried, but right this second, he feels like he might be close. He has no idea what the future might look like, and the uncertainty terrifies him, but there is one thing he does know. Whatever he needs to do to make himself into someone who's more than just a waste of space and oxygen, he'll do it. He doesn't know exactly what or how, but he knows he has to figure it out. For Félix.

Félix believes in him. He looks at him and sees more than anyone else ever has. In return for that extraordinary faith, Davian is determined that he'll do anything, even if it's overwhelming and scary and difficult. He has to, because the last thing he wants is to let down the only person in the universe who sees him as valuable and worthwhile.

#ts4 #sims 4 #eagames #Willow Creek #Davian St-Jean #Sophie Blanchet #Félix Blanchet #aucieletoile #stargazersims

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jamiemackenziefraser · 3 years

Text

All That Was Fair

Chapter 30: Slipping Through My Fingers

Summary: Jamie grasps at straws for a way to ease Claire

Read on AO3

Read chp 30 on tumblr below the cut

Previous, master list, next

Chapter 30

***

Jamie didn’t remember dozing off, but he must have, because he was dragged out of sleep so abruptly it was like cold water had been dumped over his head, shooting adrenaline into his system. It wasn’t apparent at first what had woken him until Claire made a sound that clearly wasn’t the first time she’d cried out.

It was a whimper, weak but plaintive, piercing to Jamie’s soul. He shot into wakefulness as it tore from her throat again, and he pushed himself up on his elbow, blinking sleep away so he could see her.

She was still asleep. Her eyes were clenched tightly closed while her head jerked back and forth in an unconscious mimicry of shaking her head no. Before Jamie could even reach out to bring her out of the dream, she was shooting up in bed, eyes open and wild with panic.

Her frantic gaze met his eyes, and her chest heaved as she drew in a sharp breath that was halfway between a gasp and a sob.

Jamie was crushing her to his chest without a second more of hesitation.

“It was jes’ a dream, a nighean,” he said as he held her fiercely, “it’s alright. It wasna real. I’m here.”

He tucked her head under her chin and made shushing sounds. The puir lass butted her forehead into his chest, but instead of bringing her arms around him— which she likely lacked the strength to do— she simply leaned her whole body into him.

“It’s alright now, my fair one,” Jamie hushed, “it wasna real. Was jes’ a nightmare.”

She gave a tiny tilt of the head that may have been a nod, but Jamie still felt her trembling against him. His heart broke for her. Clearly whatever she had dreamt had shaken her to the core. It had been a while since she’d had a reaction with this much energy to anything, and now her body was alight with fear.

Jamie nudged his chin down to kiss her hair and softly asked, “what were ye dreamin’, lass?”

Her swallow was audible and her breath shuddered before she answered.

“It was dark. Pitch black, but somehow I could see the darkness swirling. And I was ripped apart— over and over. And I—“ she inhaled sharply, “I was alone.”

“It wasna real, mo nighean donn. Ye arena alone. I’m right here. And I’m no’ goin’ anywhere.”

Jamie hated not being able to see her face and meet her eyes when he said that, so he carefully laid her back flat on the bed. She complied, boneless and allowing him to maneuver her, but he spotted a flash of distress in her eyes.

“Dinna fash,” he quickly soothed. He laid down next to her, bracing his head up on his elbow so he could stare down at her, but he brought his other hand to stroke her arm. “I’m here, aye?” He met her eyes this time, trying to impart the solemnity of his words, “We’re together. And that’s all that matters.”

She let out a breath that was as much of an agreement as she could muster.

“Just…” she said suddenly, surprising Jamie, “don’t leave my side.”

In another show of vigor, she reached up to twine her arms around his neck and cling to him. He knew what she wanted without being told. Sliding a hand underneath her back, Jamie gently lifted her into a sitting position, careful not to put much distance between them that would upset her. When there was inevitably a bit of space between their midsections, Claire scooted closer to press herself to him.

“Sassenach?” When she didn’t respond, he said again, “Claire? Is this alright?”

She laid her head on his shoulder, “I just want you to hold me for a bit.”

His stomach twisted, and he withdrew his hands from where they were flat on her back so that he could wrap his arms tightly around her instead. He pressed his lips to her forehead and then tucked her head underneath his chin. Tears burned at his eyes.

“I ken ye’re scared,” he murmured into her hair, kissing it softly, “but we’ll face it together, mo ghraidh, always.”

A shuddering breath against him was the only response.

He wished he had more words for her— something more to say that would ease her— but even language seemed to fail him. He could only say the same thing over and over, promising to be with her. Finding himself at the end of the power of words, he relied on touch.

Bringing a hand up, he began to stroke her hair gently. It occurred him how she seemed impossibly small. There was no trace of his vibrant, curious, and even mischievous faerie. She just clung to him, quiet, and allowed him to hold her.

She was somehow muted. Everything about her seemed almost… serene, only in all the wrong ways. She simply didn’t have the energy to do anything more than listlessly be.

Jamie found himself missing her, even though she was there with him at that very moment.

Adso was meowing insistently outside, demanding that his morning meal be served, but Jamie wouldn’t dream of letting Claire go. He patiently rocked her, swaying slightly as she rested in his arms.

“When I was young,” Jamie began to speak, not sure exactly why this story came to his head, “my older brother Willie and I wanted tae build a treehouse sae badly.” Claire nestled her head further onto his shoulder, settling in, and Jamie took that as a sign to continue. “A treehouse is jes’ a tiny room made of wood that you put high up in a tree and have tae climb up to even get into it.” The usual Claire would have definitely had something to say about that, some snarky remark about the oddities of humanity, but she was too fatigued to do anything but listen and breathe against him. “My da didna trust us wi’ the tools, and he was workin’ full time and tryin’ tae keep up wi’ the farm. We begged and pleaded for him tae jes’ let us do it ourselves, but he said it’d have tae wait until the summer. But then Murtagh showed up in our backyard one day without a word, hauling pieces of wood and his tools, and Willie and I couldna believe our eyes. We worked every afternoon for weeks. When it was finally done, Murtagh, Willie, and my Da spent a night up there— cuddled up in blankets side by side, looking out the windae at the stars and listenin’ to Da and Murtagh tell stories. I remember Willie and I fell asleep huddled together for warmth, listenin’ to the soothing sound of their voices. It was the best night.”

Jamie swallowed the lump in his throat. What he had left out was the fact that it was after Willie’s cancer diagnosis. As they’d built the treehouse, he’d watched Willie grow more and more fatigued. That night in the treehouse was one of the last perfect memories he had with his brother.

He realized suddenly that it’d been foolish to tell such an emotional story to Claire at that moment, and as lungs clenched, he wished he could take his words back inside. Sensing his grief, she whispered, “you miss him.”

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement— an acknowledgement of his sorrow and longing for his brother.

“I’m sorry, I didna mean…”

“You can’t help what you feel, Jamie, don’t apologize,” she said softly. When Jamie tilted his head down to look at her, he saw she’d lifted her face from his shoulder and there were tears glistening in her eyes.

“My sweet lass—” he croaked.

The reason for his telling the story— the reason why it had come to his head in the first place— hung in the air, heavy and unspoken between them.

“I’m okay, Jamie,” she said, straightening up and blinking her brimming eyes at him, “really. I’m just… tired. I’ll be alright. I don’t want you to worry like this.”

So she could feel that too.

“Of course I worry for ye, mo nighean donn,” he whispered.

There was a flash of panic inside him, sudden and sharp. Jamie had lost much in his life. He’d lost his brother to cancer, his mother and newborn brother to a traumatic birth, and he’d watched his father die of a stroke. He wasn’t sure he could bear to watch Claire fade away.

But he couldn't jump to conclusions yet— he told himself firmly as he shoved all of that as far down inside himself as he possibly could.

“I don’t want you to worry,” Claire argued, laying her head back down on his shoulder. Stubborn as ever. Her lips brushed over it in the slightest, the barest hint of a kiss.

“I’ll try no’ to,” he promised.

“Let’s go down and get the cheetie his breakfast,” Claire said abruptly as another urgent meow came from outside the door, although she made no move.

“Are ye sure?” Jamie wanted to argue, at least insist that she stay in bed, but he knew deep inside him that there was no way she’d part from him even for a moment, so he offered instead, “we can stay a while longer.” He squeezed his arms more tightly around her, holding her close.

“As long as we go together,” she said.

As they got up from the bed, Jamie was careful to keep an arm secured firmly around her. He abided by her residual clinginess and indulged her desire to stay pressed close to him. It was no real task; he would have her in his arms every minute of every day if he could. The length of her body pressed down his arm as she leaned slightly against him.

The moment they made it downstairs, she sat on the couch, curling her knees to her chest under the fluffy throw blanket as Jamie went in the kitchen to grab some breakfast.

When he returned, she was antsy for his presence. He settled down on the couch next to her, holding a simple granola bar in his hand (he didn’t want to spend time preparing anything else when she was like this). Nearly instantly, he had a lapful of faerie. She climbed up, straddling his legs, and hugged her arms around his neck so their fronts were pressed together. Nearly every inch of her was touching him, and he thought if she was physically capable, she would have made the rest of her body touch too.

It broke his heart damn near in two to see her suffering like this.

To be helpless to do anything.

“Want tae watch another movie, lass?” he asked gently. He had no idea what else to suggest. She needed rest and recuperation, and he ached for her to be distracted, even if just for a short while.

She gave a little murmur of assent but didn’t raise her head from where it was burrowed into the crook of his neck.

“Hey,” he said softly, trying to get her attention. When he didn’t receive anything in reply, he smoothed his hand up her back to gently cradle the nape of her neck. He suddenly felt the need to reassure her— or, if he was being honest, for her to reassure him. “Hey, mo ghraidh. I willna let anything happen, aye?”

“I know,” she said quietly.

But that was a lie. Both of them knew it was.

There was no telling what was happening, no assurance that it would pass. He was making promises he couldn’t keep. But everything inside of him had been screaming the words until he had to say them.

“What should we watch?” Jamie changed the subject before his brain could dwell on his fears long enough for Claire to sense them.

“You pick, Jamie,” she said.

The way she said his name... It made his heart clench terribly. She said it like it was an endearment, only his name meant the same as “love” to her.

Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Jamie grabbed the remote and turned on Aristocats, knowing that cat movies and shows tended to be her favorites. His faerie had a bit of an obsession now. How different from when she’d first cowered in his arms at the sight of Adso.

But she didn’t turn around to watch the movie. She stayed facing away from it, curled into Jamie. As the movie played, he simply held her and didn’t say a word. He would do whatever she needed for the rest of his life if only it could help her feel the slightest bit better.

As the movie went on, Claire gradually began to melt. The paradoxical mix of listlessness and clinginess seemed to dampen, and she shifted off of him so she could curl underneath a blanket with her head in his lap instead.

His hands settled into a rhythmic stroking of her hair. In the worst type of deja vu, Jamie realized this was just like the previous day. Claire had no energy even for the simplest of demands on her body.

She needed rest— he reminded himself. There was need to fash. He’d wanted her to sleep more, hadn’t he?

Then why was there such a pang in his chest?

***

Claire woke feeling disoriented. Weariness had settled deep in her bones. It was like she was underwater with a hand clutching at her ankle and dragging her downward while she constantly tried to battle toward the surface. For a second, she couldn’t figure out where she was. There was something soft underneath her cheek, comfortable, and she didn’t feel a sense of panic. Only vague unease.

The weight on her chest didn’t abate as she sat up. She hadn’t even managed to open her eyes yet, but the dizziness that struck her full force would have been debilitating if not for the darkness encasing her. She sank back down to lay on her side.

“Claire?”

The voice of her beloved tore her from the swirling that was taking place in her brain. Her heart skipped a beat at his voice— the first thing she felt acutely since she’d woken. She clung to that with all her might and opened her eyes.

Jamie was hovering over her, his eyes swimming with concern and his expression so boyish in the way he looked at her. She felt the slight ease of relief looking up at him. Seeing his face always seemed to anchor her to the ground, to the solid reassurance of his strength.

“Any better this morning?” he asked, but there was little hope in his voice. He already knew the answer.

It broke her heart to say it to him. She hated to make him worry, but she didn’t have the strength anymore to hide from him.

“No,” she answered, finding her voice breathy even to her own ears.

She closed her eyes again and was surprised to feel the heat of a tear leak from one corner.

Jamie sighed— a heartbreaking sound— and then his big hands came up to stroke her hair. His touch was comforting; it made her feel like she could breathe, even if only for a second before the waves crashed over her again and drove her head beneath the water.

“I dinna ken what tae do,” Jamie said softly, helplessness straining his voice in a way that tore her open.

That was enough to force her into wakefulness again.

Jamie looked haunted. His eyes were swimming with concern, the features of his beautiful face tight with anxiety. His jaw clenched as he tried to keep himself in check. Claire was too weak to sense how distraught he was, but she didn’t need to. It was painted loud and clear over every inch of his body. It killed her to see his distress and not be able to do anything about it, but she was just too tired even to try to pretend she was alright enough to reassure him.

“I don’t know either,” her hoarse voice answered.

His hands were moving again, coming to cradle her face between them. So warm and strong, so gentle when he touched her. Her eyes must have fallen closed again because her world narrowed down to the single point of his thumb smoothing over her cheeks.

“Rest, mo ghraidh,” Jamie said softly.

Her forehead tingled as he kissed it with the barest brush of lips, and then his hands disappeared from her face.

Her eyes popped open enough to see Jamie rising from the bed to his feet.

“What—?” she asked foggily, finding her mouth filled with fuzz, “where are you going?”

“I’ll leave ye to yer peace, sweet one,” Jamie said tenderly, returning to her side to run his hand down her face, over her shoulder, and then down the length of her body until it rested on her hip, “go back to sleep.”

“Please don’t go,” she found herself pleading, voice airy, “please stay, just for a little while longer?”

A whine tore from his throat as if she had struck him with a blow. He hadn’t meant to let it out, but she knew he was so pained by seeing her like this. She nearly regretted asking him until he slipped back into bed, eager, and gathered her again into his arms. He was so big, his broad chest like a wall behind her and his arms like trees that wrapped around her body. His solidness, his strength— they gave her a sense of security. Comfort like nothing else could.

“I’m sorry,” she said, repressing a shiver that tried to wrack her body. She hated hurting him like this. She knew he was hurting because of her. But she needed him so badly it frightened her.

“No,” he sounded devastated again, and it was killing her to keep hearing him like that, “no, mo ghraidh. Dinna say ye’re sorry. It became my job the second I decided to love ye wi’ my whole heart. I’ll always be here for ye, as ye are for me. We take turns, aye? Now it’s yer turn.”

Jamie always knew exactly what needed to be said to assuage her guilt. The tightness in her chest eased and she relaxed back into him, feeling more grounded. His words were a reminder that this wouldn’t last forever. She would be okay— with him— and until she was better, he’d be there to hold her.

“Go back to sleep, mo nighean donn,” Jamie said gently, “I willna leave yer side.”

Safe in the knowledge that Jamie would keep her afloat, she let herself drift back into the murky grey depths.

***

Jamie rubbed his face wearily as placed his dishes in the sink. After she’d woken up, Claire had told him to go make himself a real meal and not just throw something together as he’d been doing recently. As much as he didn’t like leaving her, he indulged his love of cooking and made an extensive chicken parmesan for himself. Before Claire, cooking used to be one of the ways he relieved stress, but he hadn’t had any time for it as of late. He certainly was stressed with watching Claire suffer from whatever was dragging her down, but of course cooking was powerless in the face of that worry.

The thoughts consumed him, circling him like vultures. He tried to beat them back as best as he could. It had only been a few days— it was foolish to go to extremes so early. But after google searches turned up nothing helpful about sick faeries, and Claire herself had been at a loss, Jamie was left with only the theories that his own brain could come up with. Maybe she had caught a cold or some human disease that her body didn’t know how to handle? Maybe with some time and rest she would be back to her usual self. Since a doctor's visit was out of the question, Jamie had to wait and pray.

Pray that this was nothing like watching his family get sick.

Pray that it would pass soon.

And try not to lose himself to the gnawing of worry inside of him.

Once he was done cleaning up, having barely managed to eat much at all, he walked into the living room looking for Claire.

“Mo ghraidh?” he called.

There was no answer. Figuring she went up to the bedroom, Jamie climbed the stairs with eager energy. It wasn’t that he couldn’t stand being away from her for an hour, but… well… he didn't like being away from her for an hour.

His face was just beginning to break into a smile at the thought of holding her again as he swung into their bedroom.

The sight inside stole it instantly, and he froze, looking at the scene in front of him with a feeling that somehow took endearment and twisted it into anguish and sympathy.

Claire was lying on the floor, curled up on her side under her fluffy throw blanket from downstairs.

Jamie’s heart clenched as affection warred with soft worry. He could see her chest rising and falling in an even rhythm where her hand was clutching a fold of the blanket to her chest. She wasn’t asleep— he could tell— but she laid curled up on the floor and didn’t seem to even notice him.

“What are ye doin’ on the floor, sweet one?” he asked quietly as he knelt down next to her. He brushed a bit of her hair back from her face as her eyes opened.

She blinked up at him slowly for a second and allowed him to gently stroke her hair before answering.

“I’m tired,” she breathed.

“I ken,” he said, his heart breaking and the bubble in his chest expanding painfully, “but why no’ on the bed?”

“‘S more comfortable here,” she answered, sounding foggy.

Jamie was perplexed for a moment before he came to the realization. She had slept on the ground her whole life. On mossy beds and leafy piles, if not just plain grass.

A choked sound escaped him as he thought about her laying down on the ground, seeking comfort from a more familiar surface.

“Can I lay wi’ ye a moment?” he asked through the sympathy coating his throat.

She nodded, just a small movement of her head sliding back and forth over the carpet. As soon as he got permission, Jamie slid behind her so he could curl up against her back. At the feeling of him pressing up behind her, Claire straightened her legs a bit so Jamie could slot his own into the curve behind her knees. He draped an arm over her middle and held her close.

“Is this alright, mo ghraidh?” he asked softly.

“Yes,” she breathed in barely a whisper.

So Jamie laid there on the ground with her, holding her. He wished fervently that she could find the slightest comfort— anything to ease her suffering. He more than wished.

“God,” he prayed silently, “dinna let her slip away from me. Please. Please.”

It took most of his willpower to keep himself from shaking under the pressure of worry. There was already enough trembling between the two of them— Claire’s body was nearly vibrating in its distress— she didn’t need him adding to that.

“Sleep now,” he whispered in her ear, “and dinna fash. I’m here.”

He was there. Only he was completely powerless to do anything but lay on the floor beside her and offer what little he could in the face of… Jamie didn’t even know what to call it other than suffering.

An idea suddenly popped into his head.

“Hold on, mo nighean donn,” Jamie said quietly into his hair. He pressed a kiss to her temple, watching her eyelashes flutter in response, and then tore himself away before he could regret leaving her.

He all but ran down the stairs, nearly tripping in his haste, but for the first time in a long while, he felt like there was something he could do. It was small, maybe it would be insignificant, but perhaps it could ease her. And that was something. When he had grabbed the item in question, he returned upstairs. Even as he plugged it into the wall, Claire remained motionless on the ground with her eyes closed.

The moment he turned on the space heater, however, those beautiful golds popped open to regard it with a wide gaze. It wasn’t excitement— the puir lass was too muted to look excited— but the gravity and regard that she held for the device was present.

Jamie made sure it was pointed right at her before he made his way back over so he could take her in his arms again, positioning her in the cocoon of his body.

“I promised ye an hour in front of the space heater, did I no’?” he said softly, trying to keep his tone light even as he felt like his heart was being thrown into a blender.

She didn’t have a witty jab about her victory nor an attempt to swindle him for more time. Instead, she was quiet for a moment before she added, “with you.”

“Aye. With me. I wouldna forget that part of the bargain, lass. It was my favorite part.”

He felt like he was choking. This wasn’t at all how either of them had imagined the spoils of her game. She was supposed to tug him downstairs with a smirk on those lovely lips. She was supposed to force him to hold up his end of the deal as he playfully refused to turn it on. She was supposed to turn around in his arms and kiss him only a few minutes into the offered hour.

It was supposed to be anything but this. Anything but lying quietly on the floor while Jamie scraped the bottom of the barrel for anything he could do to help her.

“Can ye feel it, Claire?” he couldn’t help but ask, “does it feel alright?”

She let out a shaky breath and nodded against the carpet. “Yes,” she breathed, “Thank you, Jamie.”

That was it. Quiet and empty, her words rattled around in Jamie’s heart until they lodged like a sprinter in the beating flesh.

“Anything else, lass? What else can I do?” he couldn’t help but ask. Beg. Plead.

“This is nice,” she replied quietly.

Jamie expected some sort of gesture to go with the words. A rub of his arm. A tilt of the head behind her to smile at him. Even just a shift of her body. Claire always expressed herself so physically. Only now she was still, and nothing accompanied her words except silence.

And Jamie was left in his helplessness.

“Alright, a leannan. Go back to yer rest now. I willna leave until ye wake again. I promise.”

And when the second hour passed, the space heater still buzzing in front of Claire and Jamie’s back aching, he was still there with her on the floor, praying over her in whispers.

***

a/n: Please also accept my apology that this particular chapter was the gift I had for World Outlander Day. I am offering lots of hug gifs over on my twitter (@jamiemackfraser) and here if anyone needs one. Much love to you all!

Also, next chapter will be following very shortly!

#happy world outlander day!!!#all that was fair #update #claire x jamie #outlander fanfiction #fae claire

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nsheetee · 4 years

Text

20cm

Pairing: Jisung x Reader Genre: Childhood Friends to Lovers AU, Summer Love AU || Angst, Fluff Length: 7.3k Summary: You and Jisung were childhood friends for several years before he moved away. When Jisung comes back to visit for a summer years later, you realize he’s grown taller, his voice has dropped, and it’s almost impossible not to fall in love with him. Warnings/Details: female reader, inspired by “20cm” by TXT A/N: a big thank you to @kmdys for making the banner and the gif! I hope everyone enjoys this fic ♡

Making sure to read the epilogue, Love Again, when you’re done!

Warm summer air never felt better than when riding a bike in the late afternoon. The air caresses your hair and carries the smell of wheat from the fields that are on your left and right. It takes all of your might not to close your eyes at the relaxing and restful feeling of summer break, especially now that you’ll never be going back to school again; that chapter of your life now ended and the next is slowly beginning.

You languidly pedal your rusty green bike, mindful to not ride into the gravel next to the road so that you don’t come home with a bloody knee and bruised apples. The bright green granny smiths sit in your basket, two fabric bags encompassing them. Your neighbors grow some of the best apples in the county, and it’s a dream to be able to ride over to their house and pick up a dozen for the apple pie your mom will make for dessert tonight.

At the thought of tonight’s events, your heart springs into light thuds, like a little bell that signals to your heart the beginning of your future.

Jisung, your old childhood friend, will be coming back to town for a few weeks this summer.

You never thought you would see him again, his moving away almost five years ago brought you so much sadness and the displacement of your closest friend. Jisung was the person you’d sit next to at lunch. You always gave him your carrots and in return he gave you his strawberry milk, puncturing the straw into the bottle for you. He was the one who walked you home after school; the wheat fields were so much younger back then, just like the two of you.

He was the one who made you laugh, who took all of your teasing about how much shorter he was than you, who consoled you when your pet frog died in 7th grade. He was your best friend, someone who’ll always hold a special place in your heart.

When your rusty tires roll up your long driveway, you see an unknown parked car, and your heart jumps to your throat, nerves and excitement filling you from fingertips to toes.

He’s here. Your childhood best friend is here.

Slowly stopping your bike and setting it down on the grass, you pick up the two fabric bags of apples and slowly walk up the porch stairs, your heart pounding in your throat when the screen door opens. You stop on the top stair, looking up at the boy— no, young man, who has just walked onto the porch.

“Hey, ___.” Jisung chuckles lowly. You’re sure you look stupefied. Jisung stands less than a yard away, biting his bottom lip with hands shoved into his short pockets. Has it always been this quiet on the porch? You can’t even hear the birds chirping or the cows in the farm across the street mooing.

“Jisung?” You finally speak up and he laughs, a deep and boyish laugh that fits him, but it’s not what you’re used to hearing come out of his mouth.

“Yeah, that’s me.” Out of habit, you take a step back, for some reason needing to make more space between you two. Unfortunately, you forget about the stairs behind you and yelp as you begin to fall backwards. Jisung takes two big strides and catches your wrist in one hand, stopping you from falling down the stairs. Despite the possibility of you almost spraining your ankle or hitting your head in the last few seconds, you can only think about Jisung’s large hand gripping yours.

“You saved the apples.” You chuckle nervously, rolling your lips between your teeth when Jisung doesn’t laugh back.

“I saved you, bumble bee.” He pulls you up to the porch. Now that you’re closer, you can’t stop looking over the features of his face; his tanned skin, and pink lips, and the laugh lines that are starting to crease the sides of his eyes. It’s like the more you stare, the more features you can find that you’re not familiar with.

“You still remember that nickname?” You ask, holding your precious apples in both hands in front of you.

“Of course. How could I ever forget you?”

It’s a few hours later, and you still haven’t gotten over how much Jisung has changed. You examine him under the ceiling light of your dining room, the way his now dirty blonde hair reflects the artificial light and how much baby fat he lost from his face. Not to mention the size of his hands as he pops open a soda can for you and helps pour it into your glass, his skillful hands mesmerizing you in an almost embarrassing way.

“I’m so glad you’re back in town. I’ve missed you guys like crazy, and I’m sure ___ missed Jisung, too.” Your mom speaks up, the mention of your name making you rip your attention off of your childhood friend to focus on the other side of the dining table.

“O-Oh, yes. I was… very surprised earlier.” The adults laugh, acknowledging your comment on Jisung’s changes from over the past few years.

“By the way, have you guys made plans for the next few days yet?” Your mom asks you and Jisung while forcefully adding more salad to your plate, your fork of defense no match for her skillful aiming.

“No, not yet.” Jisung answers.

“Great! You guys should help Uncle Henry pick strawberries tomorrow. You guys used to love picking strawberries every summer with him.” Your fork stops moving, sending a glance to Jisung’s way at your mother’s proposition.

“Sure, why not.” Jisung smiles. Despite being five years older and a whole foot taller, Jisung’s shy and bashful actions make him seem like he hasn’t aged a day. You go back to forking your carrots, eventually they find their way to the edge of Jisung’s plate.

“What’s this?” He asks with a muffled laugh, “My welcome present?”

“Oh,” You realize just how many wavy carrot slices you’ve piled on his plate and laugh awkwardly, “Sorry, I guess it’s still one of my habits. I know you love carrots.”

“Actually, I hate carrots now.” Jisung scrunches his nose and forks the vegetables, putting them back on your plate, “They’re too hard.”

You stare at your plate, wondering why his comment pulled a string in you and made your heart fall to the bottom of your stomach. Then you remember it has been five years. Of course his preferences would have changed in that time. But why are you getting upset over some carrots?

“Did you guys plan anything during your stay?” Your attention is once again drawn to the other side of the table as your mother speaks.

“We were thinking of hanging around for a couple weeks, then going to the beach like we always did during the summer.” Jisung’s mother answers, and then gasps as she turns to you, “___, you should come with us!”

“Me?” Your eyebrows rise in surprise, “Oh, I don’t want to intrude…”

“Oh, hush, you always used to visit the beach house with us. It wouldn’t be the same without you and you know it.” You move two carrot slices around your plate, feeling Jisung’s gaze hit the side of your head and his knee rest against yours under the table.

“Okay, yeah. I’d love to come.”

After sharing a slice of apple pie, you and Jisung walk to the back porch to witness the blazing sunset that sets over Uncle Henry’s strawberry field, which is coincidentally neighboring your backyard. Jisung looks up; the fresh summer air ruffles his shirt and hair as he takes in the sound of grasshoppers a few feet away. The moon lovingly gazes at the setting sun from the other side of the sky.

You walk past him down the stairs, still trying to figure out your new feelings towards Jisung. The hammering of your heart and the sweating of your palms was never an issue around your best friend, but neither has the awkwardness that strings between you two. You wonder what else has changed about Jisung within the past five years. You want to ask, but you feel like there’s an invisible wall that time and distance has built between you two.

You never expected you and Jisung to go back to the way you were before he moved away, but you didn’t know your relationship would be so different. That he would be so different. That you would feel so different.

“Is that-” Jisung gasps, “Is that your old swing?” He looks past you, walking down the stairs and to the rope swing that hangs off of a sturdy branch on the old oak tree in your backyard. “Come here! I’ll push you.” He laughs as he reaches the swing, testing the security of it before you sit down. You shake your earlier thoughts and feelings away, wanting to just spend some time with your old and dear friend.

“Do you remember when I pushed you off of this once?” You ask as Jisung gains some momentum, pushing you higher and higher into the sky. “And you broke your finger?” You call back to him, hoping he hears you.

“Of course, I remember.” You hear his melodic laughter in return, “I remember you crying because you thought you killed me since I had to go to the hospital.” You laugh in return, reminiscing your silly worries at the time. You let Jisung push you some more, your hair getting caught in your mouth and your skin cooling off from flying around your backyard. Eventually Jisung slows you down, and you’re only idly swaying back and forth as he watches the sunset bleed into the sky.

“There’s never these types of sunsets where I live now.” He muses, “I never thought this would be something I missed.”

“Did you miss me?” You tease, fingers wrapping around the rope to support yourself as you bend your head back to look at him. He steps forward, so close that you have to sit up straight and turn to face him properly. His hands find the rope, gently sliding down as he leans to your height.

Nothing prepared you for the butterflies that erupted in your stomach when his pinkies touch your hands, or how clear and glassy his eyes are when they look over your face. Could that look on his face be adoration? Affection? Or are you just getting your hopes up? He’s barely twenty centimeters away, yet he feels closer to you than ever before.

“In all honesty, when I stepped foot into this town, I felt like a little kid again.” He whispers over the grasshopper’s chirps, “I mean, I’m still a kid, but you know what I mean.” He laughs, and you’re paralyzed by how soft his cheeks look while raised up in happiness like that. “I feel like I walked into my past in an older body, and I have never been more thankful to see you here waiting for me.” He nods, solidifying his words, “I missed you a lot, bumble bee.”

The humidity rises the next morning, the sun is moving slowly through the sky and showers its rays down on everyone below. You think maybe it’s not a good idea to pick strawberries today, but Jisung’s excitement makes you put on some rubber boots and a sun hat, and guide him to Uncle Henry’s farm.

Uncle Henry, despite his name, is not your uncle, but rather an old man who has grown strawberries in this large field behind your house for over twenty years. Even though he’s old and his back is crooked, he does not plan to stop farming any time soon. Picking strawberries was your way of helping Uncle Henry when you were a child and he enjoyed the company of youth, saying it made him feel younger whenever you and Jisung would joke around with him.

“My God, I never thought I’d see the two of you together again.” He exclaims when you two walk to his porch, “How has city life been treating you, Jisung?” The old man asks as he hands out some baskets and you start making your way to the strawberry fields.

“It was different at first, but I got used to it pretty quickly.”

“You still remember how to find a good strawberry, right?” Uncle Henry jokes and Jisung nods, assuring him he still remembers how to do the job. “So, how did you finish school? Were you at the top of your class?” Uncle Henry muses as he finds a good place to start picking.

“Uh,” Jisung laughs curtly as you all bend down to the ground, “Not really, I was too busy dancing to worry about school.” You and Uncle Henry stand up straight at Jisung’s words, looking down at him still crouching.

“Dancing?” You both ask at the same time. When Jisung lived here, he never spoke a word about dancing. You would’ve never guessed that’s what he spent most of his time on during high school.

“Yeah, I was on my school’s dance team and did some underground dancing on the side. But don’t tell my parents that.” He holds up a finger to his lips in a “shush” motion and Uncle Henry erupts in gulfs of laughter, patting Jisung on his back as they both get back to work. You, on the other hand, are still dazed by Jisung’s story. It makes your thoughts from the night before come back to the forefront of your mind.

Jisung has changed so much in the past few years. It’s almost like getting to know a whole new person, but still having so many memories with them. That singular thought kept you up last night, tossing and turning in confusion. Something in you wants to learn more about the Jisung who stands next to you.

The smell of strawberries is almost suffocating in the best possible way. Sweat glides down your back and makes your shirt stick to you, your work gloves make your hands sweaty too, but hearing Uncle Henry and Jisung talk about anything and everything under the sun reminds you of a slice of youth, back when things were much simpler and you weren’t even aware of it.

It’s strange how different you and Jisung are; from growing up so much in the past few years and changing your views and tastes, but in the small strawberry field, you feel like time hasn’t passed at all. It tricks you, making your heart feel secure everytime you look over at Jisung and see him smiling like a fool.

You forgot how fun picking strawberries with Uncle Henry and Jisung is. They love to pull at the strings of your sunhat to puff out your cheeks, and Jisung lets you piggyback him while moving from one area of the field to another to relax your feet. Slowly, you and Jisung remember what it’s like to be around each other. You remember how well your humor matches each other and how you can almost guess what the other is thinking with one look. Out of all the things that have changed about Jisung, you’re glad this part of him has not.

At noon, when the sun is the highest in the sky and the humidity feels like it’s burning you from its intensity, Uncle Henry tells you to go home and eat so that you’ll be energized to pick some more fruits later that afternoon. You walk back to your house through the strawberries field, careful to not step on any plants as you do so. Jisung takes off your sun hat, turning it upside down and filling it with fresh strawberries from the ground. You don’t complain about the loss of shade, and you’re sure Uncle Henry won’t mind you stealing some strawberries either.

Instead of going inside, you and Jisung wash the fruits outside and sit under your beloved oak tree, the shade providing a pleasant difference from the beating sun you spent all morning under. You knock your boot against Jisung’s as you both sit with your legs in front of you, sunhat filled with bright red strawberries sharing a place on both of your laps.

“Ahhh.” Jisung says, holding a strawberry next to your lips. You laugh, but open your mouth anyway and he pops the fruit in. You do the same to him, laughing when the strawberry you picked is too big for him to eat in one mouthful.

“Do I seem older to you?” You ask, swatting a bug off of Jisung’s shoulder, not making eye contact with him. Your thoughts from yesterday and earlier this morning still haunt you. The difference now being that you’re less worried about Jisung feeling weird since you spent the whole morning chatting and interacting together.

“What do you mean?” He looks for a good strawberry to feed you.

“Do I seem different from the last time you saw me?” If Jisung has grown up and changed so much in the past five years, that means you should have, too.

“Oh, definitely. You’re prettier than before.” A momentary silence falls over the two of you. Your cheeks heat up, this time not from the direct sunlight, and Jisung thinks he said something wrong. “I mean, you were pretty before. But now, you seem to know yourself better and that makes you look prettier to me.”

He holds up a strawberry to your lips again. “Does that make any sense?”

You eat the fruit, nodding afterwards. “I get what you’re saying.”

“Why?” You pause at his question, unsure if you want to tell him the truth, the partial truth, or lie. At one point, you could’ve talked to Jisung about anything. But at that same point, you were only fourteen years old and didn’t really have anything serious to talk about. So, you decide on option two.

“You grew up a lot in the past five years and everyone was talking about it. I wondered if I had changed, too.” You let some of your fears show in your words, and Jisung smiles adoringly at you. You don’t catch his loving gaze as you pick at your sun hat. Jisung tickles the bottom of your chin, making you look up as he leans into you on one arm.

“We both changed a lot, definitely with the things we like and how we look, but I don’t think we changed that much as people. You didn’t transform completely into someone I don’t know.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because even five years later, you’re still clumsy enough to step backwards on the stairs and you still have that mellow look on your face whenever we pick strawberries.” Jisung explains with a shrug. You don’t say anything back, biting the inside of your lip as Jisung moves you to rest your head on his lap. “You look sleepy, bumble bee. Rest. You deserve it.”

He waves your empty sunhat to create some wind, fanning warm air at both of you while you close your eyes and try not to fall asleep on his lap. His words don’t comfort you, instead they make you think even harder about the thoughts that kept you up last night. If neither of you have changed in the past five years, why is your heart fluttering at the sight of Jisung? Why does your gaze fall back to him any chance you get? Why do you feel so alert at his presence?

And the most important question of them all: are you feeling these things towards your childhood friend, or for the boy that has you resting in his lap? Because you’re starting to think he is not one and the same.

Uncle Henry always told you and Jisung that the best thing about farming is to share what you’ve grown with other people, otherwise your effort could be meaningless. And what’s a better way to share than with a farmer’s market?

After finishing picking strawberries with Uncle Henry, he invited you and Jisung to the framer’s market that would open Saturday morning. Since you and Jisung had nothing else to do, you woke up early and got yourselves ready to head over to Uncle Henry’s place to help him load his truck.

You’ve gone to several farmer’s markets before, but you’ve never had the opportunity to sit on the other side of the table. The side that sees little kids smile when their parents buy them bunches of grapes, that sees the eldery who look forward to the market all week just to try on hand-crafted jewelry, adorning smiles brighter than the summer sun. It’s all so energetic and loud and it fills your heart to the brim with content.

You don’t even notice that half of the day has passed by when you get to sit down in a lawn chair by Uncle Henry’s truck. Jisung plops down next to you, rubbing his calf muscle to get rid of any tension from standing up for so long, but a permanent smile rests on his lips.

“Ah, you kids helped me out so much. Go enjoy the rest of the market for today.” Uncle Henry hands you and Jisung a carton of strawberries.

“Will you be okay by yourself?” Jisung asks with worry.

“I’ll manage. I can’t let you kids not spend some time together.” With the tone of Uncle Henry’s voice, you tilt your head in confusion. You don’t get to think about the look he sends you and Jisung for too long because you’re being pulled away from the stand and into the crowd on the other side of your table.

“Where should we go first, bumble bee?” Jisung asks, popping a rich strawberry into his mouth. You don’t answer because you can already see where you want to go. Like a habit, you interlock your arm with Jisung and pull him to a honey stand. As you look on to see several mason jars filled to the brim with sweet honey, Jisung pops a strawberry in your mouth.

“You two kids want some honey or are you just gonna keep staring like a pair of honey bears?” You and Jisung simultaneously turn to who you presume is the owner of the stand. She laughs at your synchronous movement and nods towards the strawberries. “Let me give you guys some sweetener.”

“Oh, it’s okay. I was just looking because I didn’t know there was a bee farm in town.” You explain, but the lady opens a fresh jar of honey anyway, the smell pulling you and Jisung closer to the table.

“I’m from a few towns over. There’s not a lot of competition here for honey, so I think the car ride is worth it.” She drips the thick liquid sugar over your strawberries with a honey dipper, making yours and Jisung’s mouths almost water at the sight and smell. “Plus, you guys are such a cute couple, you deserve something sweet.”

You almost choke on air at the comment, now hyper aware of Jisung’s arm folded into yours. Jisung doesn’t seem to mind the comment as much as you, smiling his gummy smile and lending a strawberry for the owner of the stall to taste.

While Jisung is having the time of his life, you’re only a short ways away, sweating about how your stomach is doing acrobatics and how your heart won’t shut up. It’s been a few days since your shared moment with Jisung under the oak tree in your backyard, and you’ve felt more like yourself when you haven’t been this close to him.

But when you feel yourself react like this, some twisted part of you never wants it to stop. You want the acrobats in your stomach to keep moving, you like the way your heart screams in delight at the sight of Jisung’s smile. It confuses you and enlightens you at the same time. You’ve never been so perplexed yet so peaceful in your life.

Jisung has to pull you away from the honey stall, saying a goodbye to the nice seller and walking further into the market.

“Where to now?” He asks, taking a moment to lift a strawberry to your lips. You eat it, not noticing how the thick honey melts onto your lips. But Jisung notices, and it takes everything in his right mind to not lift his thumb up and drag it over your soft lips.

You hum, looking around the area while getting your head out of the clouds. You see a blaze of reds, oranges, and blues and your heart tells you that’s where you want to go. As you pull Jisung closer to the stall, the blend of colors turn into individual flowers. The smell hits you harder than any other stall; you feel like you’re transported to the field where these flowers were picked.

“Which one do you like?” Jisung asks and you point to a striking batch of blue cornflowers. Your eyes have been pinned to them from the second you saw this specific shade of blue out of the corner of your eye.

“How much for a bouquet of cornflowers?” Jisung steps forward to ask the seller.

“$10.” Jisung sucks a breath in between his teeth, remembering that he barely has any money to begin with.

“What about… just one?” The seller laughs at Jisung, not in a condescending way, but out of joy.

“Is it for your girlfriend?” The seller tilts his head at you. Once again, you’re left breathless by the second person who has assumed you and Jisung are dating.

‘Your girlfriend.’ What an interesting feeling the words bring to your soul.

“Yeah.”

Oh.

“Then I’ll take those strawberries for one cornflower.”

“Deal.”

Jisung knows the deal is not fair on his part, but walking over to you with the flower in his hand and seeing your eyes light up is so worth losing a few strawberries. Little does he know, your reaction is not for the flower, but for him. Jisung rips the long stem, his warm fingers stabilizing your head by placing them on your jaw. He whispers a “don’t move” while tucking the flower behind your ear, his gaze slipping from the charming and bright blue flower to your sparkling eyes, his gentle fingers lingering in their spot.

In the busy farmer’s market, with hundreds of people moving around you like busy bees, sights and smells hitting you from different directions, and the never ending summer sun gazing into your irises, you can still only look at Jisung. He can only look at you. You captivate each other and it’s not something you, him, or the people around you can deny. It’s a fact of nature, and the sweet truth that you bite into like a strawberry.

Unfortunately, things were not tied up perfectly that day.

You didn’t get to talk to Jisung once you got back to Uncle Henry’s stall, your hands that were practically tied together unwoven the moment you saw the old man. The week and a half that followed was a whirlwind of Jisung and his family trying to shove as many things as they could do in a day. From going to the lake, to visiting the limited amount of sights the area has, to saying hello to the people who missed them while they were gone.

You barely saw Jisung for that time, and when you did it was while surrounded by your families, only secret looks of sweetness passed between you two. It was fun at first, playing coy and drifting between making your feelings obvious and not, but after a few days, you just wanted to spend some time with Jisung and work out the feelings between you two.

And then, the day to go to the beach came.

You were glad that you accepted the Parks’ invitation to join them at the beach house. Not only has the weather become even more humid and hotter as the days krept along, but the lack of rainfall or even a mist from the sky made it unbearable to go outside for long.

You sat in the backseat with Jisung while his parents sat in the front of their van, a box of beach towels sitting between you two. You would glance at Jisung from behind the stack of colorful towels, meeting his shy gaze before looking away.

You love the beach. The smell of sea salt and sand makes you close your eyes and stand still, taking in the ambiance of the seemingly never ending water in front of you. You take off your socks and shoes before stepping onto the sand, the therapeutic landscape making you feel one hundred times better when you didn’t even know the extent of your own disarray. You arrived at the beach house later than expected, the sun has already set behind the horizon and only its light shines over the waves. You don’t hear Jisung walking up behind you until you feel someone tapping on your shoulder.

You turn to look but see no one, immediately turning over your other shoulder to catch Jisung standing behind you with a bright smile.

“Gotcha.” He laughs, making you giggle along with him, not minding the small prank.

“I thought you were supposed to be unpacking your things?”

“I snuck out. I can finish it later.” Jisung waves his hand carelessly, turning to the ocean. You both fall into silence, it’s comfortable and not completely quiet, the sound of waves hitting the shore and the stars poking out into the sky filling in the empty space between you. You dig your big toe into the sand, drawing random shapes that have no rhyme or reason. Jisung notices and joins you; his pants are rolled up a bit and his shoes are off, laying next to yours a few feet away.

“Hold on.” He stops you from moving by placing his hands on your shoulders, then moving away from you and tracing big lines in the sand around you. You follow his foot with your eyes, heating up when he finishes his picture and tip toes to stand in front of you.

“It’s a heart.” You mumble bashfully, not being able to look up at him.

“Yeah, it’s my heart. Big and spacious, and you’re right in the middle of it.” The suddenness of his indirect confession makes your heart pound. You look up at him in surprise and he takes quick steps closer to you.

You’re not that far away anymore. You’re not even twenty centimeters away. No, you’re only one breath away, only one deep gaze away, only two heartbeats beating loudly away from each other.

Jisung kisses your lips, a small peck, and then moves back to gage your reaction. When you look at him, wide eyed and a splutter of laughter leaving your body, he’s confused.

“Was that a mistake?” You ask. Jisung is about to lie and say that yes, it was, but instead he shakes his head.

“No. I meant it.”

“Then come here and prove it to me.” Under the shade of night, Jisung gently grabs your hand and interlocks his fingers with yours as he kisses you again, this time with more purpose. He pulls away, still trying to figure out your reaction, his hooded eyes curious and excited and all on you.

You pull him back to you using your interlocked hands and kiss him again and again and again. He tastes like honey and feels as plush as cotton. You never want this feeling to stop, you don’t even want to remember what it was like to live without Jisung’s lips on yours. You never want to let go.

The few days spent at the beach were no doubt some of the best days of your summer. You don’t think you left Jisung’s side the whole time, and it didn’t look like he minded too much. Mornings were spent walking along the shore of the beach just as the sun came up over the horizon. You collected seashells of different sizes and colors and gave them to each other as presents.

The days were spent exploring the town or lazing around the beach house with some lemonade, Jisung’s chest under your head as you napped the day away with the sunlight streaming in through the window as your only time keeper. Nights were spent eating delicious food with Jisung’s parents, sneaking out to the balcony to share secret kisses that had you both loving the feeling of doing something daring and exciting.

But as quickly as Jisung came to your side, he just as quickly left.

Your journey back to your home felt shorter than when you were going to the beach, and you almost didn’t want to ever come back, happy enough to stay at the beach with Jisung for the rest of the summer, or even your life. This is when you and Jisung realized what dead end you both walked into.

“Jisung, you can leave your bags in the car.” Jisung looks up at his dad from attempting to tug his suitcase out of the trunk.

“What?”

“We’re leaving to go home tomorrow morning, you don’t need to dig out your suitcase.” And with that, Jisung’s parents leave you both by the car, staring after their retreating figures.

A part of you knew this was coming from the very beginning. From the first day you saw Jisung, from the day you spent picking strawberries, from the day you spent at the farmer’s market, and from the kiss on the beach. You knew it would all end tomorrow, but you decided to erase that fact. You fell so deeply for Jisung in the past few weeks that time didn’t seem real. Now, time is going to be the deciding factor of the relationship you and Jisung have created.

“Bumble bee…” Jisung trails off, shutting the trunk of the van and stepping closer to you.

“It’s been three weeks already? I didn’t even notice.” How do you fall in love with someone so quickly? Maybe you always loved Jisung, but you only now realized it. Why is time playing such a cruel trick on you?

“What do we do?” You turn to face Jisung. He sees the tears that are falling down your cheeks, unknowing to you, and gently wipes them away with his thumb. His touch gives you comfort, and so it’s almost impossible for you to pull away from him. You know you have to stay away now, no matter how much it hurts you.

“You have to leave, and I have to stay. I guess this… ends here.”

“Don’t say that.” You’ve never heard Jisung answer so quickly, or so sternly, before.

“What else am I supposed to say? How will this work out when I’m not even sure when I’ll see you again?” You sigh frustratedly, “We should’ve never done this.”

“Stop it.” Jisung’s face twists in agony, his deep voice unusually fragile sounding. Your heart pains to see him like this, but a part of your mind wants you to continue, knowing that this is for Jisung’s own good. As if he can tell there is a battle going on inside you, he steps closer, tiling your chin up to meet your eyes with his own teary ones.

“Please, hear me out.” He says, and when you don’t move, he continues. “I haven’t known how special you are to me until these past few weeks. Your words and your touch and your little hands, too.” His voice cracks as he takes your smaller hand in both of his and looks at how perfectly it fits into his own. “I was so shocked to see you again for the first time in years, but I was more shocked at how much we both changed. But still, you’re the same person I remember from when we were younger, and I thought that meant we were perfect for each other. That even time couldn’t keep us apart.”

You can’t help your bottom lip from quivering at his words. He stutters and cracks his voice, but his conviction is present and it has your knees shaking.

“I was so shocked that you’re still the same bumble bee that I know and love. I was so shocked that I looked at you and my heart ran wild. I was so shocked that my shoulders have grown to fit you perfectly between them.” He pulls you right in front of him, unable to move anywhere else. “You belong here in my arms, with me. We’re just a step away, a handspan from me to you, just twenty centimeters apart. Please, we can solve this.”

He waits among the chirping of the birds and the sway of the wheat from the light wind. Sweat rolls down his cheek and the sun creates an orange tint on your face, illuminating your eyes and lightening your hair. He’ll never forget how pretty you looked when you broke his heart.

“I’m sorry, Jisung. I think fate is pulling us apart. Who are we to go against that?” You counter, leaving Jisung stunned by your answer to his heart-felt confession. Your mind wins the war, and your hands leave his as you turn and walk away. Taking these few steps away from him and to your home is hard, you feel like you’re walking through mud— through heavy lovesickness just to get away from him. Your heart keeps singing to turn around and run back to him, to fall into the space between his arms and never leave.

But you keep walking, up the porch stairs and to your room. Your heart hurts, and Jisung’s heart hurts even more.

“Did you already say goodbye to Jisung and his family?” Is the first thing your mother asks when you walk down the stairs the next day. She’s washing dishes, her back facing away from you, and therefore not noticing the gloomy look on your face.

“Yeah…” You lie, feeling your chest constrict with the sounds of car doors opening and closing outside. Jisung and his family must be getting ready to leave. You know they had breakfast before completely packing up and going home, but you couldn’t make yourself walk down the stairs to join them, unsure of how to face Jisung after rejecting him so harshly.

“Oh, that’s good. It was so nice of them to visit us.” Your mother speaks casually. She doesn’t know that all of her words etch cracks into your heart.

“Is there something you needed from me?”

“Oh, right. Can you take this money to Uncle Henry?” She nods to an envelope on the counter, “For some strawberries we bought from him.” You don’t say another word, snatching the envelope and putting on your rubber boots to walk through the strawberry field. “You should take an umbrella, it looks like it’ll rain.”

“I’ll be gone for a minute, it’ll be okay.” You mumble to her before closing the back door of your house and marching to Uncle Henry’s. The weather outside feels weird. For what seems like the first time this summer, the sun is hidden by gray clouds, but the hot air sticks still to your skin like cling wrap. It feels uncomfortable and irritating to you, or maybe that’s just because of your disposition today. You knock on Uncle Henry’s door, waiting for a minute before he opens up.

“Hello, this is from my mother.” You try to act polite, but you can’t help your harsh mood speak through your words. Uncle Henry looks like he doesn’t care, but gives you a confused look.

“Thank you. Isn’t today Jisung’s last day here?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I thought you would be more happy today.” His words confuse you.

“Why would I be happy?” You blink at him. He laughs wholeheartedly at your response before looking up at the ceiling of his porch as he reminisces.

“I remember when you and Jisung came here to help me pick strawberries, you went back to the house to get water and I chatted with Jisung for a bit. About you.” You shift on your feet as your heart starts to speed up. “I made him promise that if nothing happens between you two during the time he’s here, that he’ll definitely confess his feelings for you before he leaves today.”

Your heart is in rhythm with the pattering of the rain that begins to fall on the ground outside.

“He had feelings for me back then?” You stare at Uncle Henry with the widest eyes.

“Oh, ___.” He laughs again, “I could tell he had feelings for you since you were kids. I guessed that now you’re older it would seem more obvious, that’s why I made him promise that he’d definitely confess.” You’re not sure what to say about this new fact, but you answer with your true feelings on the whole situation.

“Fate obviously didn’t want us together. I don’t know when I’ll ever see him again.” Your words are met with a smack to the side of your head with the envelope in Uncle Henry’s hands.

“Ow!” You’re shocked by the gesture, your mouth opening at the impact and your hand coming up to your head.

“You stupid kids. When you have a love like that you don’t let fate decide what happens with it. You take it and run with it. You don’t know if you’ll find another one like it.” Through the pattering of rain, through Uncle Henry’s words, and through the thudding of your own heart, you hear a car engine start up in the distance. Your fight or flight instinct kicks in, and your legs move down the porch stairs before you can even register what’s happening.

You run through the lonely strawberry field, mud kicking up behind you and rain beating down onto you. You try your hardest not to slip but still run as fast as you can. Your throat burns, your calves ache, you’re slightly blinded by the rain, and you’re sure you’ve stepped on a few strawberry plants, but you keep running in spite of it all. This is you, taking your own fate by the reins and pulling it your way.

By the time you reach your beloved oak tree, you slow down and lean yourself against it, watching Jisung’s family car drive down your long driveway and onto the main road, out of sight.

You’re too late.

You slide down the tree, not caring about the mud on your shoes and the ground dirting your skin and clothes. Somewhere between the drops of rain on your face falls tears. They’re salty and hidden by the gloomy clouds above you. You don’t know what’s more sad: breaking apart from Jisung when you know there is still love between you or being too late to do anything about it. You truly are stupid for letting Jisung slip from your fingers like that, for giving up so easily. The pain in your chest physically hurts you, sobs leave your chest in waves of sadness and meet the thudding rain around you.

“I didn’t even get to say goodbye.” You cry out to no one in particular, watching the driveway as if waiting for Jisung’s car to come back. It doesn’t, and guilt fills you as you remember how ruthless your words were, probably the last words you’ll ever say to Jisung.

He’s no longer just a few breaths away, a few heartbeats away. He’s now miles and miles away, the distance between you two stretching after every minute. Your hope shatters as you lean your head against your old and strong oak tree. You remember the new memories that you and Jisung made over the past few weeks. They add to the existing ones of him from your childhood, and that’s where he will live on: in your heart, in your mind, and in your memories of a bitter first love.

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luminousjellyfishy · 2 years

Text

Hey guys, I hate to do this to you, but I am asking for help without my parents knowing.

My family and I live in a crappy part of town. We rent from my uncle because they can’t afford to buy a house. In the last four years that we’ve lived here, we’ve had a lot of stuff happen that made us uncomfortable. Things like people breaking into our garage and stealing our bikes or expensive tools. Someone broke our basement window. Graffitied our porch. Time and time again, people break into my dad’s car and steal whatever money they can find. We’ve had a drug addict knock on our door, and it’s always “fun” to see what type of alcohol bottles or cigarette butts are left on our steps. There was a stabbing next door.

But this past weekend was the last straw.

Someone broke into our house. I was at work, and my parents went out for a Valentine's dinner. My two younger siblings were home. A woman came around the side of the house and let herself in through the back door. When my siblings thought our parents came home, they were scared to see a strange woman holding a deer antler as a weapon. She said things like “Come on, let’s just go for a walk” and “I’m friendly, it’s okay.”. My younger sister lured her outside and then quickly rushed back inside the house, but the woman caught the door with the antler and prevented the door from being shut all the way. Over time, the woman sat down on the back steps and just seemed to give up. My sister opened the door quickly and tossed the antler out the door, then shut and locked it. During all this, my brother was calling 911. The cops came quickly and found the woman lying on her side in the backyard. Shortly after all this happened, my parents and I came home and found my siblings crying inside the living room. There’s no doubt about it that they’re traumatized by this experience.

So, I’m asking you for help. My parents work hard and have tried to save money over the last four years, but it never seems to be enough. I am asking that you give us just enough money that it will finally be enough so we can buy a house and get away from this horrible, unsafe area. We need to get out; none of us feel safe in our home anymore.

0/10,000

https://paypal.me/luminousjellyfishy?country.x=CA&locale.x=en_US

Remember that both art and writing commissions are open, so please, donate to that if you want something out of it haha

#taco talks #taco rants #paypal #help post #sorry guys #but I have to #I'm in a tight spot right now #and my job doesn't pay enough to help #if you guys could please spread this around so people could see #plus commissions are open for art and writing so that's there too #thanks #signal boost #boost

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rebelcap · 3 years

Text

We are not just friends — Part 19

Chris Evans x bi!latina!character (Sofia is a people of color, she’s brown.)

Chris and Sofia meet when their best friends started dating, it all started at friends with loads of bumps on the road.

Warnings: drinking, smoking, drug use (weed), assault, Chris being Steve Rogers, commitment issues, my girl Sofia kinda messy.

This is slow burn at its best, at least emotionally.

Series masterlist

Sofía had definitely closed up, she became a recluse in her own apartment and the only thing she did was go to work and back. She felt mostly okay, she wasn't crying her eyes out or seeing a random photo of Chris and crying.

She was hurt, deeply hurt but all she did was avoid thinking about him. This wasn't like the first time they broke up, this felt different. Like, this was it.

She loses one of her most precious friends and gains another failed relationship, another ex that probably will end up resenting her because they couldn't reach her and when she opens up she gets shot down.

After Chris…

Sofia was sure that she was meant to be alone and she was mostly okay with it.

On the other hand, Christopher was devastated—he honestly thought she was the one, he felt it in his gut, his heart, his whole being made him feel that she was the one. She just kept pushing him away in all the ways that she could find and he took it, until he couldn't anymore and that alone made him feel like he was failing her, he didn't know how to help her and she won't let him.

They were so far away from each other—it was exhausting and the fact that he had just started talking with Jenny again made him feel insecure about his relationship.

But he love her with all his fucking heart that it hurt his whole body knowing that she might ever be able to love him back the way he does.

"I miss him," Sofia said, putting her eyeliner on. She was going out as Amanda was very pregnant to even move.

"He does too." She said rubbing her belly. "It's been, how much time now?,"

"Four months , so he's dating Jenny. That's what I heard…" Sofia tried not to get emotional about it but… Fuck.

"Yeah, Luke told me about it… but it's going anywhere and he knows. Not sure about her though."

"He always gets back with all his exes. Got us on rotation, fucking idiot. He wants to commit but he can't actually commit with anyone. Then in the one with commitment issues," Sofia shook her head and let out a groan. "I love him, I swear to you I love him, he's a good friend but he's a terrible boyfriend."

"Right back at you," Amanda laughed and Sofia had to, because she was absolutely right about her too.

"I don't go back with all my exes, though"

"Mostly don't, Chris it's the exception."

"Because I thought it was going to be okay for once." She made a face and began putting the make up back on her little make up bag. "I can't believe he's back with Jenny, she's funny and intelligent and great—but God, I don't fucking like her." Sofia said, throwing the make-up bag on her bag and pout. "I don't want to go out now. More because I know he's here in Boston and it's not leaving until next year and I'm seeing his brother today."

"You don't wanna run into him?,"

"Of course I wanna run into him, I miss him so much but I'm totally not over him yet." Sofia explained sitting on the toilet seat looking at Amanda that was leaning in the door frame. "I don't know if I'm ever going to be over Chris."

"I'm sad now, you're make me feel sad and my boy too—

"I'm sorry—

"Don't be, I'm feeling sad because I can't go out with you and drag Chris's name all over Boston even though he's great but he left you."

Sofia smiled looking down and felt Amanda's hand running through her hair and she sighed deeply.

Sofía was vibing or at least trying, the place was comfy and she knew almost all the people that were there—witch where all of fucking Christopher closest friends and some random girls that the guys bring from somewhere.

Apparently he wasn't coming, which Sofia didn't know if she was actually relieved or not.

"Jesus fucking christ." She murmured to herself tried of her own fucking mind noise. She stood up and walked to the little bar area and started pouring a drink, straight whiskey and downed it all and poured herself a second and then a third walking away with the drink on her hand.

He saw her first, saw her leaning on a wall, talking with some dude —younger than her, brunette and with a fucking man bun, he was built, lean and tall. She laughed, at whatever fucking thing he said she laughed and looked at him with the little fucking straw on her lips. Oh, boy he was mad.

Chris rubbed his face and went about to hang up with his friends and mingle a little bit. But he couldn't stop looking at their direction every fucking second.

"They sure look cozy," Luke said and Chris looked at him. "Did you talk to her yet?"

"I can't talk to her, man." Chris muttered and downed the warm beer on his hand and his friend handed him another. "What I'm supposed to say?, hey, long time remember when I dump you because I'm a fucking imbecile and i cant fucking wait." He said dropping sarcasm on every word.

"That's a good opening," Luke laughed and Chris just stared at him, murdering eyes directed at his very own best friend.

"Who the fuck is that?" he asked referring to the guy she was talking with.

"A friend of Ryan's cousin."

Chris made a face and rolled his eyes. "The fuck he doing here?"

"It's Ryan's house, dude," Luke said and was a little amazed at Chris, he definitely hasn't seen him like this in a really long long time. "Man. .." Luke said, kind of amazed. "You're still head over heels in love with her, don't you?"

"I wonder what gave it away," Chris said, drinking his beer and rubbing his face. "imma talk to her,"

"Ah—don't think it's-uh," Luke was looking at them and saw them share a kiss, it was quick and he kinda went for it.

"What?," Chris said turning around and saw them just breaking the kiss and that's the moment Sofia saw him.

And her stomach dropped, her whole ass body dropped—

"Oh, woow. Are you okay?," Alex, asked her when her knees buckled and he caught her.

"Ah, yeah, yes. Just," She smiled at him and looked at her empty glass. "Little drunk, imma get more—" Sofia made an attempt to leave but Alex, bless his fucking kind heart, offered her to get her those drinks and something to eat.

As soon he leaves that was a cue to Chris, who literally strutted to the wall she was leaning and Slfia just… started.

"Hi," He said, hands on his pockets as Sofia kept looking at him. "How-how are you?"

Sofoa kept quiet and simply walked away from him, ahe couldn't possibly do the whole small talk bullshit they alwaus did and it emeded up al fucking badly. Chris looked at her go and he was the one that stormed after her.

"Sofia, come on," Chris said and walked besides her. "Sof, it's going to be like this?"

"I can't talk with you Chris, like…" She sighed and sat down on a bench, they weren't completely away from the people and there were some girls sitting on a couch messing around with their phones and minding their business.

"Why not?," He asked, looking at her. He just wanted to reach out and hug her, he missed her.

Sofía finally looked up at him and asked him, "How's things with Jenny?," Chris looked away and rubbed his beard and stayed quiet at her question for a moment.

"We're not together anymore," He said and Sofia made a face and sigh. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Are you seeing someone?" He asked looking at the bar where the dude was talking with Ryan, probably giving him the talk.

"Look, Sofia is off limits."

"What?, why? She told me she's single." Alex asked and looked back at where she was supposed to be and found Chris looking back at him with that death stare he did when he was annoyed.

"Yes, she is. But it's also Chris ex and they still didn't figure it out and he's my friend, so kid. Off limits,"

"Do you care,?" She asked, sassy.

"If I didn't I wouldn't be asking, wouldn't I?," He asked right back at her, also sassy.

"Last time I tried that, it didn't go well," Sofia said, rolling her eyes at him. "And the one before that, worse." She said at their obvious relationship and Chris just grunted. But couldn't blame her, it was a mess…

"Yeah," He murmured and dug into his pockets and fished out a packet of cigarettes. "want one?" He offered her and she took it.

"Thanks, we should smoke outside though." Sofia said walking out to the backyard where the other guys were doing the grilling.

They waved at them but kept their distance, not Scott though because it was Scott.

"So…" He said walking up to them and putting a hand on each shoulder. "You two are actually talking,"

"Not really," Sofia rolled her eyes and Chris grunted again.

"Sof," He said, putting those little blue eyes to work on him and it worked, of course it will work.

"Okay, okay…" She agreed and lit up the cigarette giving Chris a look. Thinking that the moment she found him unattractive was when she stopped looking at men all together and dedicated herself to pussy forever.

He was so fucking attractive, jesus fuck.

"Either way, is there a point here?," She asked looking at both of them. "We're good, I guess," She shrugged.

"Are we really good?," Chris asked.

"I don't know, you left me." Sofia took a drag and Scott made a face.

"And that's my cue to leave, I love you both." He said and Sofia laughed.

"And I do too." She wink at him and Chris was staring at her, waiting for Scott to leave.

"I shouldn't have done that—

"Chris, don't." She waves a hand at him. "You seriously need a new woman on your life, this thing about getting back with all your exes ia getting old as fuck."

"Ouch," He said and actually smile and so did she. "I do miss you, you know that."

"I miss you too, come on. We were really good friends for a moment there,"

"Yeah," He smiled and bit his bottom lip, shaking his head. "We fucked up, don't we?"

"Yeah, and I told you so."

"You did. Guess I didn't listen,"

"You never listen, stubborn Gemini man." She said punching him on the arm.

"Yeah, you're right but I don't regret it though."

"Me neither," She smiled and sigh, just thinking for a moment. "So, there's a wedding coming?"

"You mean ours?," He joked and Sofia barked a laugh.

"I mean our better halves, idiot. Besides, we will be divorced in the first four months."

"What?, come on I gave us at least… a year," Chris saif and Sofia made a face, disagreeing.

"Six months, tops." She said and put her hand on his month. "The thought of me being a wife, ew."

Chris laughed out loud. "You look pretty in white,"

"I look pretty in everything because I'm pretty," She rolled her eyes with a smile. "But, jokes aside. Do you see yourself married?"

"I like the idea of marriage but… Honestly, I don't know."

"I preferred to have a kid before marriage, it's just a fucking paper in the end. You can divorce, I think I'll know when I have a kid, if I have a kid."

"We never had this talk before," Chris said and pointed at a little bench for them to sit. "About us,"

"Did you think about it?" Sofia asked as she sat down beside him. Chris was holding his beer between his legs and looking forward.

"Yeah, I mean…" He looked at her. "I have never been this in love with someone like I am with you, so yeah. I did, a couple of times actually."

Sofia was dumbfounded at what he said, and she did toyed with the idea a couple of times…

"I almost propose to you, actually…" He laughed and Sofias head snapped so hard to look at him. "After you met my mom, I bought that ring you liked. I thought that maybe someday…" He shrugged and Sofia's eyes watered up and just stared forward.

"Chris, I…" She whispered and he looked at her.

"What's wrong?," He asked, frowning.

"What's wrong!?," She said, wiping her tears. "Dude, are you hearing what you are saying to me?."

Chris realized it at that moment, what he did. Bomb after bomb he just dropped on her.

"Sorry, I got carried away." He muttered slouching on the bench and drank the rest of his beer.

"You'll find someone, Chris…" Sofia said in a small voice.

"Already found her," He muttered and stood up and walked away.

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x latina!#chris evans x poc!reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x ofc #chris evans x you #chris evans angst #Chris Evans x reader #chris evans imagine

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everythinggeeky · 3 years

Text

Back To You | Javier Peña

Javier Peña x f! reader

Warnings: angsty, a tinge of fluff, alcohol, divorce/separation

Word Count: 1.8k

Request: Okay but uhhh 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 Javier Peña where he has a kid back in Texas with his ex and he flies in to see them 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 and maybe they uhhhh get back ✨together✨(anon)

A/N: this is it. I’ve plummeted myself into the Javier wormhole. I’d appreciate feedback! Texas Javi is the reason I breathe.

masterlist

You had to keep reminding yourself that this was just a conventional meeting. A meeting to satisfy the requirements of the courts, fulfill the needs of the custody agreement. You rocked your daughter Sofia side to side in your arms, desperately trying to get her to soothe herself back to sleep. Perhaps she sensed your unease; this would’ve been the first time in three years that you’ve seen Javier since he ran off to become DEA and ignore all of his life’s problems that came along with being married to you.

Something itched in the back of your mind; he had ignored the court’s previous attempts to get him to come home, but for some reason, in the thick of Escobar’s destruction on Columbia, Javier had decided that now was the best time to see his daughter for the first time since her birth.

As you watched the clock tick, your pulse elevated one point. There was less than an hour left until his estimated arrival. God help you if he was on time, or early. You quickly whisked the thought away. Javier Peña was never on time, let alone early. He always found something...or someone to occupy his time.

There was a moment in both of your lives when that was each other.

It was a photographic life of domesticity: you had a beautiful ranch on a piece of land that once was owned by Javier’s father, whom he was very close with. Papa would make loving visits to say hi, share a meal, or just to bug Javier about fixing the leaking faucet in the powder room. You would have dinner on the kitchen table by 5 pm, and Javier would drop his keys in the bowl on the credenza next to the front door.

You had gotten married in the backyard of the ranch. It was a special ceremony; just for the two of you and your closest friends, family, and Javier’s coworkers. The ranch was your happy place; there were so many special memories that were kept there.

It was the stereotypical American dream, and it felt like bliss….until it all came crashing down around you.

A year after you had gotten married, you found out you were pregnant in the bathroom of the Piggly Wiggly. You had been feeling sick for the last week and when you missed your period, you decided it would be best if you bought a test on your weekly outing for groceries. The anticipation was practically eating you alive, so you bit the bullet and took the test in the grocery store bathroom. You nervously bounced your feet against the faintly sticky floor and flashed your eyes to the test two minutes later.

You watched the two faint lines develop and before you could process it for yourself, your whole life had changed forever.

You brought the test home to Javier that afternoon, passing it over after dinner.

“This is yours?” he met your eyes.

You nodded, smiling a toothy grin, “you’re gonna be a daddy, Javi.”

“Shit!” he stood, excitedly, a wide smile on his own face, pulling you into a tight embrace.

As happy as Javier was on that day, the fresh excitement dwindled and was replaced by the harsh reality of parenting.

The months leading up to Sofia’s birth had been the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Javier would come home from work, drop his keys in the bowl, but the drop became more half-hazard and louder with every passing day. He came to expect a perfectly cleaned house and a hot, well-balanced meal on the table, and when your health slowly deteriorated because of your pregnancy, things had gotten harder for you and it just wasn’t as easy as it was six months ago. Javier was frustrated with the little things, and in your naivety, had contributed it to the stress from work. Those two combined created the perfect scenario for life-altering meltdowns that ultimately ended your marriage.

The screaming fights were ugly, ending in one of you crying and breaking down, as Javier typically took a breather in his Jeep with a loop around the neighborhood. You pushed one another away, the distance eventually caused him to find an apartment in the next town over, file for divorce, and encouraged him to leave for Columbia before the divorce could even be finalized.

Javier had left your life just as easily as he had come into it.

And suddenly, Javier has weaseled his way into your life once again.

His invitation had come in a letter, and as unconventional as it was, was endearing. He admitted to his shortcomings, wanting to make up for them and make a consistent appearance in his daughter’s life. Perhaps foolishly, in a lapse of judgment, if you will, you accepted his offer and allowed him to make the visit.

He was due to arrive in just over half an hour, and you were dreading it, but you also couldn’t deny that a part of you had a grim curiosity about what his visit would entail.

You heard the Jeep putter outside, and silence after Javier parked on the street. You inhaled a deep, cleansing breath, hoping to rid yourself of the anxiety you had been carrying for the last week. Sofia stirred once again on your hip, looking out the window and gawking for herself.

“That’s daddy, baby…” you hushed to her.

“Da-...?” she stumbled over the foreign words.

“Yeah, Dad,” you sighed, walking to the front door to greet Javier as he knocked.

“Javier,” you reacted plainly, swinging the door to the modest three-bedroom rancher you now kept to yourself, a town over from the ranch.

“Y/N…” he sighed, looking to you first, and then Sofia, “Sofia…you’re so big.”

“Wanna show daddy how old you are, Soph?” you modeled three fingers, to which she mimicked with her childlike chubby fingers.

“Wow….” he sighed in a dreamlike tone, his absence suddenly becoming real.

He had missed what every first time father hopes to see; the first birthday, the first tooth, the first peanut butter (Sofia had handled that one like a champ, scraping the residue off the roof of her mouth, immediately begging for more) and of course, the big ones; the first steps, first words, and so on. You had held those precious memories close to your heart. Sofia was your precious princess; and you had wanted her to blossom into an amazing girl, even if you had to do it on your own.

“Come on….we can go sit in the playroom…” you led Javier into the playroom which neighbored the kitchen.

You sat Sofia down for playtime, to which she immediately seized the opportunity and started playing with her favorite toys. You sat down on the couch, and Javier sat next to you, a comfortable distance between you two. Too close for friends, too far for partners who once shared the same bed.

“Y/N…”

“Listen, Javi….I know you’re here to make good...but I’m happy, and so is Sofie. And we’re doing just fine.”

“That the thing, Y/N, I’m not.”

“That’s not what you said before you left us to chase drug lords in Columbia….”

“I know.”

“Then what? Why are you here?”

“I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“Listen...I forgave you a long time ago, Javi….but I’m much better off now. And maybe that’s because you’re not here.”

“I want to be here. For Sofia.”

“You don’t get to decide when just to come into her life and then leave again when it’s convenient for you.”

He sighed before starting again, looking down at the toddler playing with a stack of blocks on the rug, “I realized when I was down there how much I needed this….needed a family.”

“What? The War on Drugs is changing your heart? Just like that?”

“Y/N...let me. While I was down there I realized that I was bigger than myself, that I needed something else to live for. My career is about me and what is the best for me, and who knows...maybe someone else. But when I go home at the end of the night to my empty apartment and my empty bed….I can’t help but think back to you. I’ve been thinking about this a lot...and what it means to be a dad...and I want to be that again.”

You inhaled a deep breath, considering his proposal. If you were as naive as you were when you first met him, you might have believed him, but the two years where you were actually married to the man eventually dwindled into the most catastrophic two years of your life.

The fights were incredibly violent when Javi was stressed; he would pour himself a heavy glass of bourbon and would suck it down before you could say anything. Of course, as you floated around him, tending to his every need, he poured another glass, and another, eventually rendering himself intoxicated in the pale light of the hood above the stove, long after you had decided to go to bed. He would stumble up the stairs, mumble something about how the ranch was “too damn big for him to manage like this” and you would roll over in bed and hope he wouldn’t try anything in his current state.

He never touched you when you said no. He was a respectful man. His father had raised him well like that. As a matter of fact, when things started to go downhill, Papa was one of the first people you reached out to, before your own parents. Papa mentioned something about “talking some sense into the boy”, knowing what was best for him; you.

Nevertheless, you fought with Javier. And it went beyond your average, everyday couple domestics. Your fights were brutal and dug deep, riddled with personal attacks and jabs that left a heavy scar in their wake.

As Javier begged for his place back into your life, you couldn’t help but think of the lonely nights spent crying into the duvet of the queen sized bed, while he slept on the couch downstairs. You didn’t think you could bear anymore nights like that, and you staked your claim.

“Javi...I can’t just let you waltz back in here on the promise that you’ll become a better man. I just can’t do that to Sofia.”

“Y/N...I promise I’ve changed. I mean it. I’ve seen what happens to the world when men become too powerful...and I can’t raise my little girl in a world like that without a father.”

“I’m going to need you to prove that to me.”

“I promise. I’ll do anything. Absolutely anything. Once this is all over, and there’s a bullet in Escobar’s head...I’ll come back to you and Sofia and I’ll be the man I’ve always promised to be.”

“Javi?”

“Yes, mija?”

“You better not be lying to me.”

tagged: @smokahuntis

#javier peña x reader #javier peña drabble #javier peña oneshot #narcos netflix #narcos #javier peña #texas javi #javier peña x reader angst #javier peña angst #javier peña fanfic #javier peña fanfiction #back to you #everythinggeeky

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tloujm · 3 years

Text

Part XVII: Funnel of Love

Author’s Notes: Sorry it took so long.

Genre: Fluff + Angst = this chapter

Summary: This takes place right after the last chapter. The newly engaged couple share the news with their loved ones. The wedding planning pressure is on.

Ship: Joel x Reader

“Well, well, well. Big bro is doing it for real this time, huh.” Tommy began with a wide grin on his face. “Congratulations, Joel. I mean it. I always knew it was gonna be the two of you since the first day y’all showed up at the gates.” Joel relieved one of the watchtower guards so he could talk to Tommy about the proposal. They were both up in the small wooden shelter, rifles in hand, glancing between each other and the world beyond the gates.

“Thanks, brother.” Joel donned a bashful smirk.

“So do I get to be best man?” Tommy asked.

“Weren’t you already best man?” Joel countered.

“Yeah, but that time didn’t really count.” Tommy explained. Joel shot him a glare as a response to the dismissal of his first marriage. He knew that this time was different though, so he couldn’t blame him.

“‘Course you’re my best man.”

*****

“Joel? Miller? Of the infamous Miller brothers?” Jesse exclaimed.

“You knew we were together.” You said. Jesse was your closest friend at the settlement, therefore, he was the first person you told. You had reservations about sharing the news with him because, for a moment while you and Joel were broken up, you grew feelings for Jesse. It was something you never shared out loud or in your journal. Not sure of whether the feelings truly stemmed from Jesse himself or your emotions from Joel, you didn’t feel right giving weight to those thoughts. Despite Joel’s suggestion, you always figured Jesse’s feelings were purely platonic anyway.

“Yeah, I know. It just seems very official. I didn’t think people still did that these days.”

“He did manage to surprise me. It was very romantic. You should take some notes just in case you feel compelled to do the same with a special somebody.”

“Take notes? From Joel? Miller? I can be quite romantic on my own, thank you.” Jesse turned to you. “But listen, I’m happy for you. Whatever you need for your upcoming nuptials, let me know.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that.” You responded. It fell silent for a moment while the two of you were cleaning up the stable.

“I bet you Joel can get you guys a senior discount on a wedding cake from the bakery.” Jesse spoke up. He broke into a fit of laughter as you dropped your broom and threw a handful of hay at him.

“He is not even that old.” You responded defensively.

“No, no. He’s just regular old.” Jesse reasoned jokingly.

“He’s young at heart!”

“(Y/N), He plays the guitar on a rocking chair and whittles for fun.”

“He does other things for fun that I can tell you right now he is not too old for.” You replied with a coy tone in your voice.

“Alright, alright.” Jesse shook his head playfully and continued sweeping up the straw on the ground. “The jury is still out on how old he is, but I suppose we can both agree that he’s not geriatric.” He reflexively ducked when he heard you drop the broom again to pick up some more hay.

“So I’m invited to the wedding then?” He asked seriously.

“Of course you are! You’re my best friend.” You replied.

He clears his throat. “Yeah…”

*****

“Honey, I’m home.” Joel said. The words flew out his mouth in a jovial tone. He had never said those words before. It reminded him of a husband from the 1950s coming home from a day at the office. That particular visual didn’t enthuse him, but the idea of seeing you again did. He knew that he’d never wear a suit and work in an office, but he hoped that the rest of his life consisted of coming home to you.

“My love, I’m in here.” Your voice carried from the kitchen. He quickly followed until he stopped right behind you. His arms snaked around your waist as he kissed the top of your head. “What did you do today?”

“I spent some time with Tommy.” He went to go sit down at the island.

“Oh?”

“He asked how our trip went.” He began. You turned to face him.

“You told him about us?” You asked, smiling. He nodded.

“Yeah,” He chuckled. “He asked to be my best man. Did you tell Maria?”

“Yeah, I told her after Jesse.”

“Oh good. He knows.” He began sarcastically. “I better stop catchin’ him gazing at my bride then.”

“Joel, stop. He always knew we were together. But as for Maria, she was super excited. She started talking about wedding stuff like we weren’t living in some fungal zombie infested world. It’s not like I can go dress shopping, or cake tasting or pick out venues. I mean honestly, what’s the point of a wedding?”

“You don’t wanna have a wedding?” He asked.

“I don’t know.” You shrug. “All I want is to get married to you. She was just planning it all out the second I told her and I was feeling overwhelmed.”

“She’s just excited. Take a breath then go back and talk to her. If anyone’s got the connections to throw a wedding, it’s her.”

“What was your wedding like?” You asked.

“You wanna know?” You nodded. He sighed. “It wasn’t much. We cut costs wherever we could so I wore a hand-me-down suit from my dad and Tommy wore a hand-me-down suit from me. The only thing that matched on our suits were the buteniers. It was in one of her aunt’s backyard. It was dead in the middle of summer after school let out, but the only decorations were red, green and blue Christmas tree lights that she put on the bushes. I remember her aunt tasked me and Tommy with going to get some flowers. She gave us some money, but my God, I had no idea how expensive real flowers were. I bought Sarah’s mom a bouquet from the florist while Tommy dumpster dived for some dying flowers that they had just thrown out for the rest of the wedding party.” He shrugged. “The ceremony was quick. The reception was a potluck; everyone brought a dish and their own fold out chairs. Outside of my cousin singing a song, the music was from a boombox. It was simple, but it all came together. I had my own issues with my parents and her side of the family didn’t like me much after I knocked her up, but for that one day, we all got along and it was nice.”

“Oh. Wow. At least everyone got along.”

He chuckled. “I know it was nothing impressive. It was a shotgun wedding for a couple of teenagers. But I don’t want you to worry about how that went. What matters is now and how we want things to go for us.”

You smiled. “Our wedding can go the exact same way and I wouldn’t care so long as you’re there.”

****

“So,” Maria slammed down a stack of wedding magazines on the coffee table. “I think looking through these would be a good start.”

Maria invited you and some other women over one evening to have a girls night. She had never done this before, but she felt your impending marriage was a good excuse to have one. You didn’t have many female friends. Most were acquaintances, so none of them were as close as Maria and Wendy to you. They were there, but so were a handful of others you’ve only ever spoken to in passing.

Maria had a growing wine collection. She would trade for a bottle or two every so often. For your special occasion, she dusted off two bottles. Wendy made you a homemade pin that said “Bride to be” which she insisted you wear all night. Maria passed the magazines all around the circle you guys made on the floor.

“Maria, where did you get all of these.” You asked.

“I’ve had them all this time. While I was on a scavenging trip one day, and this was years and years ago, I saw them and grabbed them. It was impulsive. I don’t know. Me and Tommy had been together for a while and you know, naturally I started hearing wedding bells even though he never really proposed. I know it's silly to expect happiness in the middle of all this craziness, but it became normal for him and I and despite all this, he stuck by my side. I spent my whole life pre-outbreak wanting a wedding. I mean I wasn’t obsessed with it, but what girl doesn’t want a little fairytale wedding?”

“Tommy never proposed? I thought you guys were married?” Sheila spoke up in between sips.

“We’re basically married. Obviously not under law, but we committed ourselves to each other. I wanted to stop running and just build a future, even a tiny one, for us. He wanted the same. So we settled down and built this place. Well ‘settle down’ as much as we can in this type of world now. But, it was all casual. He brought it up one day while we were eating. He asked if I’d ever want a husband. He asked if it mattered to me.”

“What did you say?” Wendy asked.

“I told him, of course it mattered. At least to me. He gave me that famous Miller half smile,” Maria looked to you as to say ‘You know what I’m talking about’. “And asked if I thought he was husband material. I kinda strung him along for fun. I told him ‘As close to husband material as he can get’. He let out this little laugh and said ‘Well it’s settled then.’ and I thought to myself, I get to be someone’s wife! But not just anyone’s wife, his wife. At that point I couldn’t stop smiling. It wasn’t a proposal in the traditional sense. I guess it still counts, but we never did anything about it since. I guess we just assumed marriage from that point on. We expressed our love for each other, but never spoke the traditional vows. He never called me his fiance. As a matter of fact, the first time I heard him call me his wife to another person was when you and Joel showed up at our door.” She spoke in a roller coaster of tones, switching between enthusiastic and disappointed. “So I want you to have something special to commemorate this moment with. It’s not going to be a big, fancy wedding, but something nice nonetheless.” She said to you.

“Thank you.” You replied.

“Ohhh, look at this dress! I think this would go great with your figure, honey.” Darlene stated as she handed you the opened magazine. You admitted it was nice, but you couldn't see yourself in it.

“That’s a bit plain, don’t you think? How about this one.” Maria handed you her magazine. The dress was exceptionally grand. It had a train and was adorned with crystals and lace.

“That’s quite the dress, Maria.” You commented, not wanting to hurt her feelings.

“But do you like it?” She asked.

“I do,” It wasn’t a whole lie. “But what’s the point in looking at dresses? I’m not gonna be wearing any of them from these magazines. I don’t own any white dresses at all. Just a white t shirt with sweat stains and holes in ‘em.”

“It doesn’t hurt to fantasize a little bit. Besides, maybe we’ll go out and find a store with something nice to wear inside.” She replied.

“Drink up, honey, you're supposed to be happy.” Darlene said as she watched you nurse your glass.

“I am happy.” You replied with a straight face.

“Let’s play This or That and let’s pretend it was 13 years ago and the world was normal again. I’ll ask you to choose between two different things, wedding themed of course. I want you to give me an answer quickly to ensure it’s the truest answer.” Maria suggested.

“What were you doing 13 years ago?” Darlene asked you.

“Just graduated college. Didn’t even get a chance to apply my degree anywhere.”

“Oh, you were just a youngin’. Still had milk ‘hind your ears.” She playfully slapped your thigh. “And let’s see...Joel must have been how old…” She pondered seriously.

“Vanilla or chocolate?” Maria spoke up.

“What?” You asked.

“Cake. Vanilla or chocolate for your wedding cake?”

“Uh, chocolate.”

“Outdoor or indoor venue?”

“Indoor, I guess.”

“DJ or band?”

“DJ?”

“Lillies or Peonies for your bouquet?”

“I don’t think I know what peonies look like, to be honest.”

For the rest of the night, you and the other women played wedding themed games that you were sure Maria made up. They fiddled with your hair and dabbed beet juice on your lips and cheeks to appear as makeup. Despite Darlene rubbing you the wrong way, you took her advice and ‘drunk up’. Getting loose helped, but it still was all a bit overwhelming to you. Part of you wanted the fairytale like Maria said, but part of you didn’t even want it at all. While a fairytale would look nice, it would come with too many cons and then you would think ‘what was the point’. There would be too many people, and as an introvert, you weren’t prepared for that. Having to coordinate a large amount of food to feed the party, acquire a form of entertainment to keep everyone busy, ceremony rehearsals, picking loyalties when choosing between your sister in law and your good friend for made of honor and so on. Honestly none of your female friends were as close to you as Jesse, though, but you didn’t think he nor Joel would be cool with him being your main bridesmaid.

Still buzzed, you walked into your empty house and beelined it to the bathroom. You sat at the edge of the tub, warm water running through your fingers as you watched it fill up. You grabbed your portable CD player and headphones out the drawer next to the toilet. You adjusted yourself into the inviting bath and immediately slipped your head under the surface. Being underwater was always a relaxing feeling for you so long as you knew you were in control. Your hands held onto the sides of the tub, keeping you under. You stayed there with your eyes closed until you couldn’t take it anymore. The curls of your hair laid flat against your head as you took in a large breath. As weird as it was, it helped the anxiety that you were currently harboring. The cherry on top was your music. You reached over the edge and felt for the play button before sliding the headphones over your ears. Again, you closed your eyes. You weren’t thinking about anything in particular: your patrol duty tomorrow morning, your promise to have lunch with Maria and Darlene, and sure as hell not your wedding.

The buzz was wearing off, but the warm water took over the job and continued to relax your muscles. You were three songs into the album you were listening to when they abruptly tensed up. Your eyes popped open at the sudden splash of water that landed on your chest. It felt as though only a moment ago you were alone in the world and now sitting on the edge of the tub is Joel. He watched as you scooted up, sloshing the water around.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to splash you that hard.” He chuckled before pointing to your CD player. “You gotta be careful with this, (Y/N), you know. Gotta have your wits about you even in a place like Jackson---”

“I know, I just wanted to unwind for a moment---” You butted in.

“I don’t mean to chastise you like you’re a child, but I just want you to be safe. What if it wasn’t me here.”

“All the doors are locked.” You reasoned.

“Still.” He gave you his famous glare for a solid moment before his eyes drifted down to your body in the water. “Room for one more?” He lifted his eyebrow.

You frowned. “I was about to get out.”

“Didn’t look like that to me, darlin’. If I’d chosen to watch you for longer, you’d still be laying there with your eyes closed.”

“How long were you watching me for?” You asked, starting to feel a mix of self consciousness and arousal.

“Doesn’t matter.” Joel’s face was rid of emotion save from his eyes. His eyes were lit up with lust despite your rejection.

“The water was getting cold. I was just waiting for the song to end before getting out.”

He lifted the same eyebrow. “Is that so?” His eyes followed your body as you stood up in the tub. He unfolded his arms and grabbed the towel on the back of the door. Holding it out, you stepped out of the tub and into the soft fabric. He slid his hands up your arms before massaging your shoulders. His hands were rough and ungentle, but you still let him continue. “Baby, tell me what’s wrong. Who hurt you? I’ll go grab Tommy’s bat and smash their kneecaps in.”

You chuckled. “While I’m sure you would,” You turned around, releasing your shoulders from his grip. “No one hurt me. I’m just...I just got some stuff on my mind.”

“Care to share?” He asked. You shrugged. “Was it something that happened at Maria’s?”

“She threw me a bridal shower.”

He sat on the toilet and pulled you down onto his lap. “That was nice of her.”

“I mean yeah, it was nice. It just...It felt forced. Women were there that I hardly knew. We were planning the wedding, imagining details I knew would never work. I feel like Maria wants this to happen more than I do and I hate that. I should want this the most. I mean I do want this,” You point between you and him. “But I just don’t know how I want to go about it. I thought seeing her again would help me make up my mind about things, but I feel just as confused and flustered.”

He kissed your shoulder. “I don’t want you to stress out over this. It’ll all work out, because the most important thing in the end is that we have each other. I promise,” He kissed your shoulder again. “Ok?” He waited for you to say it back before tapping your thigh. “Now, just because you didn’t want me to get in with you doesn’t mean I don’t want a nice, relaxing bath too. Last chance before you put your clothes on.” He pointed between you, him and the tub as if asking for you to join him.

You smile with a shake of your head. “No, my skin is all wrinkly but I promise to only keep the towel on if you promise not to make me wait long.” You winked at him.

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hopelikethemoon · 4 years

Text

the three of us (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}

Title: the three of us Rating: PG-13 Length: Warnings: discussions of pregnancy planning, angst, heartache Notes: this chapter made my heart hurt. Set in 1996. You can find the Maybe Today, Maybe Forever Timeline here. Summary: Javier and Reader have not had the success they hoped for.

Taglist: @grapemama @seawhisperer @huliabitch @pedropascalito @rogrsnbarnes@thewallpapergoesorido @twomoonstwosuns @gooddaykate @livasaurasrex @ham4arrow@hiscyarika @plexflexico @readsalot73 @hdlynn @lokiaddicted @randomness501@fioccodineveautunnale @roxypeanut @just-add-butter @snivellusim

Maybe Josie had been a fluke.

Your doctor had given you a full bill of health — both times you visited the doctor. There was no reason for why nothing had taken hold. Five months. Four negative tests. Four periods. Even Javier had visited the doctor, just to make sure his swimmers were in working order. They were. Everything was right and yet…

You swallowed thickly as you pushed the bathroom door open, eyes lowered to the floor as you shook your head. Another unsuccessful month had slipped by.

“C’mere.” Javier murmured, holding his hand out and gesturing for you to join him at the foot of the bed. “It’ll happen.” He reassured you.

“Yeah.” You almost wished you hadn’t decided you were ready to try. To actually plan on having another kid.

Javier curled his arm around your waist, drawing you into his side. “It’s okay baby.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I just thought that this time…” You shifted, laying back on the bed and bringing him down with you. You stared up at the ceiling, brows furrowed. “I was two days late and I was certain.”

“I know.” He slid his arm out from under you, rolling onto his side. You could feel his eyes on your face, “Hey.”

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eyes. “Hmm?”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It’s neither of our faults.” You said a little quickly. You were both healthy, but you were the one that wasn’t pregnant. You had been so certain this time around. For a fleeting few days you had felt different. Maybe you had been, maybe it ended before it even began.

“We’ll just keep trying.” Javier draped his arm over your middle, giving your waist a reassuring squeeze. “If you want to.”

“I do.” You sighed heavily. “I just didn’t realize how hard it was going to be.” Your eyes drifted back up to the ceiling. Josie had been easy — one night was all it took to give life to a beautiful baby girl. Sure, it had been sheer hell, but she had been easy.

This time, you were actually trying and nothing was working.

“I’ll go back over the calendars the doctor gave us. Maybe we’re off by a day.” You scrubbed your hands over your face, before you looked at him. “I’m sorry.”

“Baby, you haven’t got a damn thing to apologize for.” He cupped her cheek, rubbing his thumb over the rise of your cheekbone. “And as much as it pains me to leave you right now…”

“Get to work, Professor.” You teased, trying to put on the emotions you would rather be feeling. You were depressed. But you didn’t want to ruin his first day back in the job force.

“I am just a teacher.” Javier countered, “And it’s just orientation.”

You curled your fingers around his tie, pulling him in closer so you could kiss him. “But Professor sounds sexy.”

Javier bumped his nose against yours. “I love you.” He whispered, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “Are you going in today?”

You pursed your lips thoughtfully. “Probably. It would be a nice distraction.” You forced yourself to smile. You needed the distraction, otherwise you’d spend the day in sweatpants with a bottle of wine trying to forget your inadequacies.

“I’ll pick up dinner on the way home so you won’t have to worry.” Javier told you as he pulled back, straightening his tie. “Pizza?”

“Sounds nice.” You nodded, peeling yourself off the bed. “Good luck today, Javi.”

“Thanks baby.” He murmured and you could feel his eyes on you as you moved around the bed room to get ready for work. You knew he was hurting too — maybe not the same way as you were. But he wanted this baby as badly as you did. Each month that slipped by killed you. At one point in your life you had prayed for a negative test, but now it was all you saw.

——

Your 1 PM meeting took you by surprise. Not the meeting itself; but the person leaving the meeting ahead of yours.

“Lance Collier.” You remarked, stopping dead in your tracks. “What are you doing here.”

He held his hand out to shake yours, “Working with the local law enforcement on a case. How the hell have you been?”

“I actually have a meeting.” You glanced at your wristwatch. “It’ll be about forty five minutes.”

“I’ll wait.”

“Great.” Lance nodded. “Hope they don’t bore you to death.”

“Chances are slim.” You quipped, before you headed into the conference room. He certainly was a welcome distraction from the thoughts weighing on your mind. And one of the last people you expected to see from your time in Colombia. Second maybe only to Chris.

——

It was surreal to have Lance Collier standing in your little office with an obscured view of Dodge Island. The last time you had seen him was the night you broke up with him and promised to call him in a week or two. You hadn’t.

“Niece?” Lance questioned, nodding to a picture of Josie you had framed on your desk.

“Daughter.”

His brows shot upwards, “Wow. When did that happen?” You couldn’t exactly blame him for being surprised. He’d actually mentioned having kids with you when you dated and you had been pretty against the idea. You had a whole career you were building.

“She was born in ‘93.”

“And who’s the lucky father?”

You arched a brow, “Would you believe me if I told you I’m with Javier.” You turned one of the pictures on your desk towards him — a family shot Connie had taken for you in their backyard at Easter. Josie was clutching a stuffed rabbit, nestled in between you and Javier.

Lance’s jaw dropped. “Peña? What the hell did I miss after I left Colombia? I figured you must’ve moved on — you never called.”

You grimaced. “It didn’t feel fair to string you along, Lance. It’s not like I moved on to Javi right after we broke up. Far from it, actually. I just wasn’t—“

“There’s no hard feelings.” Lance cut you off. “I’m getting married next month.”

“Oh, wow! Congratulations.” You smiled at him. ”So what has the CIA poking around here?”

“Clearing up soon loose ends from Medellín. We received intel that La Oficina de Envigado was laundering money out of Miami. Due diligence, really.” He lowered his voice, pointing at Josie’s pictures. “Is she why you’re persona non grata with DEA? I was down at the embassy a year ago and—“ He whistled as he shook his head. “They’re not fond of you.”

You shrugged a shoulder. “Javi and I lied about our relationship for a year. I was already on thin ice for being pregnant and…” You made a face. “Straw that broke the camel’s back.”

“Jeeze, I’m sorry.” He gestured around the office. “But check this place out.”

You laughed. “Yeah, who knew Miami had the budget to give consultants offices with windows?”

Lance shook his head, staring at the family picture on your desk. “I can’t say I’m surprised, but… I just can’t picture Peña as a father.”

“He’s amazing.” You told him, your eyes drawn to the picture. “Josie is a complete daddy’s girl.” You glanced back at Lance then, “What do you mean you’re not surprised?”

He gave you a look. “Do you remember the first time you brought me along to drinks with him and Steve?” You nodded. “I realized pretty quickly that night that he was my competition.”

“Really?” Your brows furrowed together. “I just remember him being a dick that night.” Then again, he always got pissy whenever Lance turned up with you.

He was going to lose his shit knowing that Lance was in town.

“I’m glad you’re happy.” Lance told you with a genuine smile. “That’s all I wanted for you.”

“Thank you.” You sank back in your seat, “I mean, look at us. You’re getting married next month and I’ve got a family.”

“With Javier Peña no less.”

A laugh bubbled out of you, “Right? I’m still waiting for the pigs to fly.”

“Any wedding bells in your future?”

“Not our thing.” You shook your head, “But we’re good. He’s started teaching a criminal justice course at the university. I’ve got this.” You gestured to your office. “Life is good. Miami was the right move for us.”

Lance pursed his lips and nodded in agreement. “You deserve it.” He glanced towards your office door, “I should probably get going. I’ve got a deposition to sit in on later.”

“It was good to see you Lance.” You offered with a warm smile, watching him leave. Once upon a time you probably would’ve settled for him. But there was nothing about Lance that made your heart skip a beat — even back then. That would’ve been an easy path. Everything with Javier had been difficult. It still was difficult.

But all that difficulty made the quiet moments worth it. The uphill battle was justified every time Josie roped Javier into wearing a princess crown and attending tea at her make believe restaurant.

You couldn’t imagine a life where you didn’t have both of them. And maybe it was okay that you weren’t having any luck. Maybe it was meant to be just the three of you.

———

“I don’t know why we bother trying to expand her dietary options,” You remarked as you picked a piece of cut up pizza off her abandoned plate as you took it to the trash to throw away. “She’s always going to just want chicken nuggets.”

“In futile hope that she’ll kick her chicken addiction.” Javier remarked from the living room, where he was fastforwarding through the trailers on the VHS he’d rented. Four Weddings and a Funeral seemed like the right kind of movie to unwind to.

You grabbed two beers out of the fridge, gripping them in one hand as you snatched up the pizza box off the counter and headed into the living room to join him. “I wish it were that easy. I think she’s hooked, Javi. Our baby’s a chicken addict.”

Javier looked back at you over his shoulder, a grin spreading over his lips. “Guess there’s worse things she could be hooked on.” He settled down onto the sofa, loosening his tie. “I’ve got a full class. I guess everyone wants to meet the guy who helped bring down Pablo Escobar.” He swept his fingers through his hair, before taking a beer from you.

“They’re going to love you.” You said as you took a swig of beer before sitting it down on the coffee table. “You’ll never guess who I saw today.”

“Who?” His brows drew together.

“Lance.”

Javier huffed, “Really?”

You nodded, leaning back on the sofa. “He’s still chasing down money launders from Escobar’s predecessors.” You explained. “Still a CIA suit.”

Javier gave you a wary look, before he leaned forward to grab a slice of pizza. “That’s good.” He said before taking a bite.

You chewed on the inside of your bottom lip, heart pounding a little quicker as you stared at him. “Are you going to be an asshole about this?”

“No.”

“Our entire conversation basically revolved around you.” You told him, lips drawn into a faint smile. “It was a nice distraction from everything else.”

Javier grabbed the remote and paused the movie. “I’m not going to be an asshole about this, but I just never liked the guy.”

“I know.” You reached out and stroked his cheek, before sliding your fingers into his hair. “He wasn’t surprised that I was with you.”

His jaw rocked tensely before he relaxed under your touch. “What? Did he tell you about the time I pulled him aside and told him he better take care of you?” Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth.

You shook your head and tilted your face to look up at him. “When did you—“

“You had just started seeing him.”

“Well, that explains everything.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest. You could easily picture Javier pulling that shit. He had been in fine form that evening from the second that Lance sat down at the table. It was a miracle it hadn’t run the poor man off then and there. You had a sneaking suspicion that he had said a lot more than just ‘take care of her’. Everything had been so new back then — Colombia, Javier and Steve, your outlook on the future. Maybe things didn’t turn out how you had planned, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Javier gave your shoulder three little squeezes, pulling you in close to his side. “Is he going to be around for awhile?” He questioned as he picked up the remote with his free hand, loosely holding onto it.

“I didn’t ask, but probably not.” You reached out and took the remote out of his hand, sitting it aside. “We should talk about this morning.

He exhaled heavily, pinching at the bridge of his nose. “I’d planned for us to talk about everything but that.”

A nervous laugh escaped you as you interlaced your fingers with his. “I know.” You swallowed thickly. “It’s not bad… it’s just—” You squeezed his hand tightly. “I think we should try for another month and then I think it’s time to accept that it’s just the three of us.”

Javier lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to it. “The three of us are perfect, baby.”

“Yeah.” You whispered, sinking into his side feeling defeated. You wished you could make it happen. That tomorrow you’d magically wake up pregnant. The thought of both of you being able to enjoy this from the start seemed like a vain wish now. “Are you excited to start teaching?”

He rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand, “I met a couple of the students this afternoon and they seem keen. We’ll see.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “They even gave me an office with a window.”

“We both ended up with windows,” You mused.

Javier chuckled. “I wanna bring you and Josie by later this week so you can see it.”

“That reminds me.” You squeezed his hand before you got up off the sofa. You headed down the hallway to the bedroom to get the gift you’d wrapped and hidden on your side of the closet. You returned, holding it out to him. “I meant to give this to you this morning, but…”

Javier took the parcel from you, unwrapping it slowly. “Baby, you shouldn’t have.”

You had taken the negatives of the photos from Colombia and had duplicates made to be framed. Four photos that captured so many memories from that era of your lives. Josie resting on Javier’s chest, both of them fast asleep a few days after you had brought her home; you and Javier kissing, a slightly blurry photo you’d relied on the timer for; Josie’s first bath; and a photo of the three of you when Josie was still so tiny.

“I thought you might like taking us to work with you.” You smiled at him as you settled down onto the sofa beside him.

“Maybe we should stop now.” Javier suggested as he looked up at you. “I hate how much this is stressing you out, baby.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, “Maybe we can just try to see if it’ll happen naturally.” You still weren’t ready to call it quits. Not entirely.

He nodded his head, staring down at the frame. “We’re good as three, aren’t we?”

“We are.” You leaned into his side. Part of you regretted that you had started this whole endeavor. You had thought it would be easy, free of heartache. But you had been wrong. Maybe he was right. Maybe it was the planning and the stress that was causing it to fail.

#javier pena #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal x reader

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