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moonlit-imagines · 2 years

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Headcanons for being Matt Murdock’s child (Part 1)

Matt Murdock x child!reader

warnings: teen!dad matt. it’s not portrayed as like, a weird or horrible thing, it’s more of a growing up together type of deal. also blood, injury, death, alcohol AND there is a mention of the SA that made matt become daredevil (i put a tw in red right before it’s discussed and a couple red dots where it ends)

a/n: this gonna sound weird but the humor in this gives me the same vibes as me and my own dad’s humor. ALSO im cutting this off after season 1 because it got REALLY LONG

prompt:

part 2 part 3 part 4

matt wanted you to have a more stable life than him

which was a little hard considering when became a dad

by the time he went to law school, you were about 8

“is this room 312?” -matt

“yeah, who you looking for..? oh, sorry” -foggy

you dragged in your tiny suitcase behind him

“blind and a single dad? you’re getting all the ladies, aren’t you?” -foggy “how did you even manage to get a kid in here?”

“special arrangements were made, i’m quite persuasive. good thing i’m in law school” -matt

one time, your dad revealed (without much cause for worry) that he “always knows when you are lying” because he can “hear your heartbeat” and instead of that being a cute little motivation for you to always be honest, you literally spent months training yourself to outmaneuver him and you can pass just about any lie detector test. now he just has to take your word for things

being a little shit

“you smell really bad, foggy” -you

“that’s a little harsh…nevermind, thanks for letting me know” -foggy, sniffing himself

matt definitely didn’t want you to fight or be vigorously trained, but he did teach you a few moves because, well. they could help

he also got you some karate lessons to keep you occupied while he had class or internship stuff when you were done with school (which you loved to show off when you got home)

basically abusing foggy (but you were widdle so it wasn’t too serious)

“matt, can you ask your gremlin to stop kicking me?” -foggy

“y/n, stop kicking foggy” -matt

“never!” -you

“that’s it!” -foggy, throwing you over his shoulder

don’t get me wrong, foggy grew to love you, he was family for sure

you cant really draw anything for your dad so all of your masterpieces started going to “uncle foggy”

but when you made stuff out of clay or something…those ones went to your dad

“oh, thank you! is it…a dragon?” -matt, feeling the details

“it is a dragon, do you like it?” -you

“i love it” -matt

“how come i don’t get a dragon?” -foggy, pouting

“because your eyeballs work” -you, using your fingers to stretch your eyelids wide open

eventually, matt and foggy graduated and you moved back to hell’s kitchen, where things got…crazy.

by then you were about 13 or so, so much more experience in being the worst (jk your dad loves you)

*you, trying to sneak a beer without even having your hand on the bottle yet*

“absolutely not, don’t even think about it” -matt

“blindness gave you omnipotence? ugh, you suck” -you

“then you half-suck. it’s hereditary” -matt

matt being REALLY worried about you in hell’s kitchen, but you insisted you’d be perfectly fine walking back and forth from your bus stop

he got u a taser

that was just a horrible idea you love the sound of the zaps

foggy felt threatened

it wasn’t very long before your dad turned to vigilantism, and it wasn’t very hard for you to figure it out

“what’s up with the mask, dad?” -you

“what, uh, what are you talking about?” -matt

“did you think i was actually asleep on the couch last night? are you crazy?” -you

you happened to have an uncomfortable tether on reality that happened somewhere down the line

and your dad knew he could be real with you, but he hated to be. he really did

matt didn’t exactly love growing up in his “reality,” he wanted things to be so much sweeter for you

but coming home bloody and bruised every night wouldn’t make your life any sweeter

in a way, you did think your dad was awesome and kind of badass, but he was literally all you had and from the stories he told you, you could fall into the same boat any day now

“holy shit, are you…are you okay?” -you

“what’d we talk about with your language?” -matt, very injured

“what’d we talk about with your ass getting beaten?” -you, grabbing the med supplies

you reminding your dad of a young him fixing up his own dad after fights.

he didn’t know if that was good or bad

hanging out at nelson and murdock after school

“didn’t say you could drink coffee either” -matt

“you’d think with a blind dad i’d have an easier time sneaking around but noooo” -you

you and him had a great sense of humor

“his greatest accident was me” -you

*karen nearly spitting out her coffee*

“his worst accident was meeting my mom, though” -you “it ties with being blind”

oh yes your favorite joke was definitely the “i was a mistake” one and you milked it frequently, matt got in on the action too

“the teacher said i made a grammar mistake” -you

“i made a mistake once…you” -matt

oh and you both milked the hell out of the blind thing

“every time i look at you—” -you, trying to sass him

“every time i look at you i can’t see” -matt

oh and then

“actually, i’m the reason he’s blind. that’s what you get when you lay you eyes on the most beautiful baby to ever exist” -you

“you were an ugly baby, i literally felt it” -matt

it’s actually a birthday tradition for him to touch your face and “see how much you’ve grown”

“oh, a new pimple!” -matt

“alright, that’s enough from you” -you, laughing

karen and you having a pretty sick friendship (she likes when you tell embarrassing stories about matt and foggy)

“and then foggy threw up and—” -you

“why don’t i get you some coffee, y/n?” -foggy, wheeling your rolling chair far, far away

knowing more than you should, about life and the city. especially the fisk dealings

which kind of freaked you out, especially when death and destruction became more and more common

“dad? please be careful out there. you’re all i’ve got” -you

“i know…just stay put for now. please” -matt

he makes breakfast for you on special days. or when he needs to say sorry for coming home at 4am with intense injuries you have to care for

“i made waffles…” -matt

“i’m still mad at you” -you

“can you be mad at me while you eat the waffles?” -matt

claire thought you were pretty neat

loved your attitude and all

“met your kid on my way in, real character” -claire

“oh…god. what did they say?” -matt

“‘please identify your relationship to my father. friend or booty call’” -claire

“and your answer?” -matt

“the former, of course” -claire

every once in a while, your voice would boom through whatever room you found yourself in, yelling:

“en garde!” -you

“y/n, put down my walking cane” -matt

“you will have to earn it in combat!” -you

if you were in front of foggy or karen or anyone else, he’d just laugh while you poked him

but if you were home alone…

“oh, it’s on!” -matt

obviously, you both knew you couldn’t quite best him, but you could get a few hits and blocks in, for sure. and he always took it easy on you

“do you yield?” -you, poking him in the stomach

“i yield, oh no, how ever will i be able to walk the streets of new york without my cane” -matt, completely monotone

feeling bad that you keep hiding matt’s secret, especially from foggy. like, especially from him

but saying the darnedest things to throw them off the trail

“how do we know that the man in black isn’t johnny cash, hm? i’d like to know…when the man comes around” -you

“what the hell?” -acceptable answer from anyone

whenever matt goes out for any endeavor, whether masked or merriment, you always get the same trusting warning. no really, he trusted you on your own

“be good” -matt

“no” -you

other acceptable answers include: “absolutely not” “you wish” “‘good’ is a point of view” “that’s subjective” “if all your beer is gone, someone robbed us” “i’d throw a party if i had friends” “will you?” “yeah, right” “oh, okay, i’ll try that” “well, i was planning a murder tonight, but just because you said that—” “if i’m not, minors still get lighter sentencing, and i know a good lawyer. you know, at landman and zack”

matt doesn’t push his religion on you. he encourages religious debates if you have any. if you do, he steers you clear of the church. if you don’t, maybe you go to a service every once in a while.

“that’s not very catholic of you” -you, every time matt does something “bad”

working out with him at fogwell’s gym (when he’s not a complete and utter mess)

punching bags are your jam

every once in a while, he’ll teach you something new

sometimes, you get real with him

“do you ever like, put on that outfit or get the shit beat out of you and think ‘wow, maybe i am crazy for doing this?’” -you

“why, because im blind?” -matt

“because you’re a father” -you

when foggy found out, he was pretty mad at matt. but he didn’t know how to feel with you

you were a kid, matt’s kid, but he was family to you, he was devastated you didn’t share

a/n: this is where SA is talked about, there will be a line of red dots where it ends and the font goes back to normal size (also keep in mind that the hypothetical situation that y/n explains does not automatically imply reader is fem)

you decided to go after foggy on your own and talk to him since matt had revealed the injustice that set him down his path, the abused girl down the street

“foggy, you have to understand—especially as a lawyer—that the legal system doesn’t always work. dad did what he needed to do” -you

“i’m not saying i don’t understand that, but it’s matt. your dad, matt. my best friend, matt. he’s getting his shit rocked every night because of some domino effect?” -foggy

“foggy, do you blame him for going after some sick and twisted father for doing that to his daughter? what if it were me, foggy? what if you were put in his shoes and you found out that was happening to me?” -you

“dont—please don’t go there. that—it doesn’t—” -foggy

“he figured out he could do more than just that. do you think i’m not afraid of losing my father? i absolutely am, but he’s not easily stopped or slowed down. believe me, i’ve tried” -you

••••••

“well, why didn’t you just tell me?” -foggy

“uh because snitches get stitches” -you

“w-what?! no, no. crazy guys who run around in their pajamas get stitches! there’s one laying on your couch!! snitches get deals, you should know this!!” -foggy, very urgently slamming his hand in the other

going back to your dad like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ “i did my best”

putting stickers where they dont belong (3D/puffy stickers for matt)

getting frequent calls from foggy when matt is late to work

“foggy, i’m at school! what??” -you

“did matt come home last night?” -foggy

“don’t know, i didn’t check” -you

“you didn’t check to see if your dad was still alive?!?” -foggy

“well, sorr-y, i was under the assumption he was a big boy who could take care of himself” -you

“well, he’s not!!!” -foggy

kinda being the awkward “middle man”/messenger for foggy and matt while they fight

“foggy asked me to ask you to…hold on” -you, uncrinkling paper “‘go fuck yourself, you selfish, blind asshole.’ okay, i was mistaken. it was not a question”

as stresses from the city, your dad, foggy, school, and then some really started setting in, your hardened, sheltered emotions started surfacing for the first time in a long time, shocking many

but matt was there to hold you when you cried

and foggy, too

and even karen. and she always asks about you when you’re not around.

when fisk was brought to justice (or so it seemed), celebration at the office was called for…and foggy snuck you some alcohol

“don’t tell your dad, you swear?” -foggy

“y/n, were you…drinking?” -matt, 5 mins later when karen left the room

“shit, i forgot about your freaky sense of smell” -you

“alright, kiddo, wrap it up. let’s get you home before ‘uncle foggy’ sneaks you anymore alcohol. shame on you, franklin” -matt

“i know, i’m the worst” -foggy

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @locke-writes // @sweetheartlizzie07 // @queen-destenie // @johnmurphyisqueer // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @canarypoint // @procrastinatingsapphictrash // @lxncelot-recs // @swanimagines // @randomfandomimagine // @petersgroupie // @summersimmerus // @scarthefangirl // @bad4amficideas // @sheridans-dynamos // @simsrecs // @prettysbliss // @popeheywardssecretgf // @skdkdkckfk // @simp-legend // @zoeyserpentluck // @wild-rose-35 // @confessions-of-a-adhd-teen // @itachisdangos // @nekoannie-chan // @punk-rock-raven //

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pastelwitchling · 3 years

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Alex had been quiet all day. Michael had stalled on his front porch for what must’ve been hours before Max and Kyle showed up in their dark suits.

Kyle looked solemn, his brows pinched like he didn’t quite know how to handle today either, and Max looked like he was there out of duty. He was needed, so he’d come. Michael found enough thought to be grateful for that at least. Every other piece of his mind was consumed with Alex inside.

Kyle had taken one look at the cowboy, clearly realized that he was not going to knock himself, and raised his own fist. The second Alex opened the door, his eyes fell on Michael, and something like relief settled in the slump of his shoulders.

He visibly swallowed and stepped aside to let them in. Kyle put a hand on his shoulder as he passed, but Michael only glanced up, holding his gaze for a second before looking away. He was afraid his eyes would reveal themselves to Alex like they always did; he was afraid Alex would know how happy he was that the bastard was gone.

They stepped into the living room, and Michael found Flint on the couch, in his own black suit. He was staring out the window, unfocused, his fingers interlocked on his lap.

Without a word, Alex nudged Kyle’s elbow and led them to the kitchen where Gregory and Clay, in their own suits, were preparing the trays of whiskey glasses and champagne bottles. Michael resisted the urge to down half a vodka and replace the other half with the acetone he had ready in his jacket pocket.

Alex squeezed Gregory’s arm as he walked past him. Nobody asked Alex why he was still in his jeans and flannel, why he hadn’t put on his suit yet. Michael imagined Alex saying he would do it just before the guests arrived. He wished he wouldn’t put it on at all. Jesse Manes, he knew, didn’t even deserve that much.

Was that why Michael’s fingers had been twitching since he’d gotten into his truck, why he couldn’t sleep at all last night, why seeing Alex now pressed a heavy weight on his chest? Was it because he knew they shouldn’t be preparing for a funeral now, that they should be celebrating?

Alex didn’t seem to think so as he wearily ran a hand through his hair, and pointed in the direction of the fridge when Kyle asked where they’d kept the bottles of water. He’d been there, after all, to help. Kyle Valenti and Alex Manes, eager to contribute to the funeral. All it took was Michael handing out ice for the drinks, and it really would’ve been Jesse’s worst nightmare come to life. Which, he supposed, seemed fitting.

Alex didn’t find it so funny. Michael caught him slapping his own cheek a few times in the corner, as if trying to keep awake. He used his crutches despite keeping his prosthetic on, as though he’d made it halfway to pretending he was fine, then given up.

That, Michael realized, was what had been driving him crazy. The very innate, very accurate, very inexplicable knowledge that Alex very much wasn’t fine. And it was killing Michael not to know why. The scariest monster under his bed was finally dead, shouldn’t he have been happy?

Max had joined in to help the brothers prepare, including himself in their murmured conversations, as if careful not to scare the shadows and ghosts. Or maybe it was just habit for them to whisper when they were together. Maybe they knew better than to be heard and risk the wrath of the cruel man that had once ruled them.

It was Clay that interested Michael the most after Alex. Interest, for someone like Michael, who’d known his share of bad guys that were meant to be good, came from wariness. He knew he liked Gregory, he knew he disliked Flint, but Clay was a mystery. He had graduated when Michael first found out about the Manes men at all, and the stories about him were few and far in between. He had no idea what to expect. All he knew was that Clay looked like Gregory, so he looked like their father. He had the same hard forehead that Gregory had, the same blue eyes that Jesse did, the same mouth that could easily turn to a sneer.

But Clay didn’t have the kindness to his eyes that Gregory did. Gregory looked like he was assessing you, Clay looked like he’d already decided what you were. Michael only knew what to make of him when he put a hand on Alex’s shoulder and told him to go get some rest before the guests arrived.

“No,” Alex started weakly, but Clay was looking at him as a captain would at his unit. A look Alex had when he talked to almost everyone else.

“Alex,” he said more firmly, “get some shuteye, I’ll come wake you up in an hour.”

He didn’t say it like he was terribly worried for Alex’s wellbeing, but like it was the logical course of action. It was the language the Manes family understood best. Michael didn’t care. Alex looked like he was going to fall on his feet, and he backed up whatever side encouraged him to sleep.

Alex looked hesitant, and his eyes flitted to Michael, as if worried to leave him alone amongst his brothers. There was nothing else for it. Michael nudged his chin towards the narrow corridor, the silent message clear; Where you go, I go, Private.

Alex swallowed, like he was nervous, and went down the hallway for Michael to follow. Michael came into Alex’s bedroom to find him setting his crutches against the wall. He sat down on the edge of his bed, his palms rubbing busily up and down his thighs. He pressed his lips together in an awkward smile.

Michael hated that. He hated that they didn’t know what to say to each other. Even when their relationship had consisted mostly of staying in bed, they liked talking. He sat next to Alex so that their thighs touched, and reached a hand up, brushing back Alex’s bangs.

Alex leaned into the touch, eyes fluttering. Michael’s heart hammered. Before he could cup his cheek, Alex turned away and rubbed his face.

Michael leaned in until his nose was almost brushing Alex’s hair. “Talk to me,” he whispered.

Alex shook his head, and buried his face in the crook of Michael’s neck, inhaling deeply. Michael had the feeling it was his first breath in a while. He cupped Alex’s neck this time, keeping him in place.

His thumb reached up, caressing Alex’s jaw. “Please talk to me.”

Alex hugged Michael’s waist tightly, and turned his face into Michael’s collarbone. When he spoke, his lips brushed Michael’s skin and sent a pleasant shock throughout his body.

He breathed, “Can you sleep with me?”

Michael could only nod. He kicked off his boots and did the same to Alex’s. They lay on their sides on top of the blanket, Alex’s back to Michael’s chest. Michael took his jacket off and gently placed it over Alex’s shoulders, keeping him warm as he wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him in tightly against him.

He listened to Alex breathe while he inhaled the airman’s scent, his eyes fluttering to the soft strands of his hair, tickling his nose and cheeks.

“I’m not sorry he’s dead, Alex,” he confessed in a whisper that Alex shouldn’t have been able to hear if he was asleep. He wasn’t though, so he had.

Alex didn’t push him away or look disgusted. Instead he burrowed deeper against Michael, scrunching his shoulders under the warmth of his jacket.

“I know,” he murmured.

A long moment of silence passed, then Alex said, “I am.”

Michael swallowed and pulled Alex in closer. “I know.”

Why suddenly didn’t matter, because when Alex said his next words, his voice trembled, like he feared the answer. “Do you hate me?”

It broke Michael’s heart. He held Alex unbearably tight. “Not even if you’d saved him.”

Alex sniffled, but Michael didn’t need to see his face to know that there were tears. “Don’t leave,” he pleaded.

Michael pressed his face to the back of Alex’s head, kissing the nape of his neck. He felt Alex take his wrist in a tight hold, keeping them together. He didn’t know, and Michael blamed himself for that.

“I’m yours, Private,” he promised. “Where you go, I go.”

***

Let me take you into the garden, into the gard-eee-eeen, I’ll be the-eere 💐🎶

#alex manes #michael guerin #malex #malex fic #malex fanfic #malex fanfiction #roswell new mexico #roswell nm #malex angst #malex fluff #tyler blackburn #michael vlamis

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lucientelrunya · 3 years

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Like a lonely house pt 2

Chaotic me deciced to switch back to present tense (already edited part one) and I'm still quite clueless how to tag. But it gave me so much joy to see people enjoy my little idea.

Please feel free to point out any mistakes you spot, I'm always trying to improve my writing and stop myself from agonizing over every sentence and constantly rewrite everything...

I think Zhang Rishan might be a tad bit dramatic in this part, but I hope you enjoy this anyway :)

The blackness and cotton in his head only slowly recede, permeated by the sound of muffled voices Zhang Rishan knows. The voices carry an urgency, an impalpable sense of importance that drags him back to consciousness with a sudden harshness. Still it takes more effort than it should to blink his eyes open and for a moment he is confused why there is a stone ceiling above him and why little white flakes are clinging to his lashes. He rubs at his eyes, his movement sluggish and his arm feels heavy, a dull ache that causes the memories to come rushing back. The strange tomb, the force controlling him, the ritual, the pool - Ba Ye. It’s not a dream - nightmare? - or at least not all of it and he sits up way too quickly for his body to adjust. Thankfully someone grabs his shoulders - again - to keep him upright.

It takes Zhang Rishan another long moment to blink away the black spots and recognize Luo Que beside him, offering him an already open bottle of water, which is considerate and much appreciated. He really needs to drink something, at least to get the taste of copper and something he can’t even begin to describe out of his mouth. The strange pale liquid has dried all over his skin and clothes like some sort of clay, cracking and peeling off in flakes and powdery dust when he moves. He opts to ignore it for now, content with getting it off his lips and out of his eyes.

Luo Que doesn’t say anything and patiently waits for him to gulp down most of the bottle before he sits back again, letting go of Zhang Rishan’s shoulders and looking at him with a barely there question in his eyes. And, yeah, Zhang Rishan would like to know what’s going on here himself, thank you very much. With his vision mostly free of black spots and blurring edges he dares to look around him, having already spotted Zhang Qiling’s black clad legs next to him from the corner of his eye. He is lying on a sleeping bag right next to him, with Huo Daofu examining him quietly and unhurriedly.

And Zhang Rishan’s brain is still mushy enough to take a long moment to truly comprehend what he is looking at when he finds the source of the voices. Liu Sang and Pangzi arguing is not some rare occurrence (as he has learned in the last two days), although it's not really arguing and more of a friendly stage of bickering, but Liu Sang and Wang Pangzi arguing with Ba Ye is not normal, not in the least. So it really hasn’t been a dream or his imagination.

An illusion then, maybe? A hallucination, like the meteorite inside the tomb and Er Ye getting back his dead wife? Maybe he is still in the pool and all of this is just a hallucination? But back then the whole fake world had frozen once Ba Ye had started to doubt and Zhang Rishan is absolutely doubting the possibility of this being real. It feels too much like Er Ye’s illusion of getting Yatou back and Zhang Rishan has lived long enough to know that there is no way to truly bring a dead person back to life.

No one freezes and no one vanishes, not even when he puts his hand on his arm to push a thumb into the wound beneath the bandages and elicits a spark of pain that is absolutely and undeniably real. It quickly vanishes again, his body cataloguing it under ‘inconvenient but not life threatening’ and opting to ignore it like he had been trained. But it leaves Zhang Rishan fairly confident in his assumption that this is not an illusion.

He must have been staring, lost in his contemplation of what is real and what isn’t, because suddenly Ba Ye is turning towards him, a look of relief flashing over his face. “Lieutenant! You are awake! Please, please tell these people who I am!” He sounds worried but also a little irritated and whiny, and so much like the Ba Ye Zhang Rishan remembers. For a moment he allows himself to just watch Ba Ye come over and squat down in front of him. He had obviously tried to wipe his glasses off on his equally stained scarf resulting in smudged pale lines all over his glasses and his face.

And he has to fight the urge to reach out and touch, to convince himself that Ba Ye is real, because he has been dead and gone for almost 80 years. Even if they never found his body, even if he had been hidden somewhere by Qiu De Kao for whatever reason there is just no way for him to be alive right now, alive and the same, he is no Zhang, he has no qilin blood.

Wu Xie kneeling down beside him, half on Zhang Qiling’s sleeping bag, breaks the moment. “You know him” and although it’s not a question Zhang Rishan nods. He glances at Wu Xie, who looks worried but also curious and intrigued, always drawn to mysteries. Pangzi and Liu Sang come over, too, placing themselves behind Ba Ye like they are prepared to grab and restrain him if he tries anything, but they look at Zhang Rishan. With at least 5 pairs of expectant eyes on him, probably six, he has to squish the feeling of vulnerability and helplessness that wants to crawl out and drape itself all over him. Instead he consciously straightens his back, squares his shoulders and shifts to sit cross-legged.

He has no idea what’s going on here, no idea how to tell Ba Ye where or rather when he is now (because right now he can’t fight the acceptance that this is a living, breathing Ba Ye who just hasn’t aged a day) or what happened in the pool or if everything did really happen like he thinks. If that being had been there, in the pool and had granted him a wish he hadn’t ever put into words, had made a fleeting thought into a new reality. Each of them is looking at him like he has all the answers and he hates that he is sitting here on the floor of a dimly lit cave, on a sleeping bag someone else has rolled out for him, with bandages around his arms and feeling so utterly helpless. He can’t suppress the bitter thought that Fo Ye would have known what to do.

Taking a deep breath he decides to start with what he is sure of, which is the answer to Wu Xie’s “You know him”. “I do know this man, his name is Qi Tiezui, also known as Ba Ye”, and the name and the title should mean something to at least Wu Xie and maybe Huo Daofu, even if they obviously don’t recognize him from old photos. Maybe because they never paid attention to those pictures, which are faded and grainy compared to what even the simplest smartphone camera is able to capture nowadays or maybe because Ba Ye looks like he took a mud bath. Maybe both.

On to the second thing he is quite certain of: “As to what happened, I’m not really sure myself. As soon as I entered the tomb some force took over my body and I suppose Zhang Qiling's as well and we came to this cave to enact some kind of blood sacrifice ritual for whatever deity they are worshipping here.” No need to point out he had been meant to be the sacrifice, that bit is quite obvious, although he is not sure why Zhang Qiling is the one still unconscious then. “There was chanting, but I wasn’t able to understand it”, he adds, which makes Liu Sang nod at him. “Yeah, I heard you through the wall, but wasn’t able to identify the words either.”

Zhang Rishan considers asking why they hadn’t followed them into the cave and tried to stop the whole thing, if only to give him a little more time to try and find words for what happened after that, but he doesn’t have to voice his question. “Yeah, almost broke my damn nose trying to follow you two through that convenient little magic wall that suddenly turned into a real wall after you two went through, and we couldn’t find a mechanism or another entry or hear anything. Imagine our immense joy at hearing this idiot here say there’s ‘eerie chanting’!” Pangzi grumbles and there is no need for him to add that the use of some explosives had been on the table. Or had they used explosives?

“Did you blow a hole into the wall?” Zhang Rishan asks, eyeing a pile of broken stone in the vicinity of the wall, but Pangzi shakes his head. “Nah, I wanted to, but then the ground started to shake and - poof - the entrance was back and actually visible.” It takes Zhang Rishan another moment to realize the rubble is what’s left of the statue he had only glimpsed upon entering the cave. Had the earthquake destroyed it? Had it even been an earthquake?

Wu Xie humms beside him, following his line of sight for a moment before he points to the wall behind the rubble. “There are some murals depicting locals worshipping a deity that I have never seen before. But it seems to be for protection against droughts or bad harvests, your garden-variety-harvest-god to ensure plenty of food and the likes. Nothing that can bring dead people back to life.” Ah, right back to the burning question.

Ba Ye sputters quite helplessly at that. “Dead? What do you mean dead? Do I look dead to you? Lieutenant, what is going on here, who are these people?” Considering that Ba Ye’s face is still mostly covered in white it wouldn’t be that unreasonable to mistake him for a ghost. But beneath that he doesn’t look dead or like a walking corpse, he looks just like Zhang Rishan remembers him, just like the last time he had seen him before he had vanished. And he still has no idea how to tell Ba Ye that everyone he knows is dead. Well, everyone except Zhang Rishan.

“I’m Wu Xie, this is Wang Pangzi, Liu Sang, Luo Que and behind me are Huo Daofu and Zhang Qiling.” Wu Xie blindly pats Zhang Qiling’s lower leg when he says his name, his eyes never leaving Ba Ye’s face, gauging his reaction to two familiar family names. And Ba Ye doesn’t disappoint, confusion clearly written all over his face. He is mouthing ‘Wu’ and ‘Huo’ while his eyes scan Wu Xie’s face before he looks at Zhang Rishan with a mixture of confusion, incomprehension and helplessness.

“He is Wu Laogou’s grandson”, Zhang Rishan says softly, because their relation is the most obvious to emphasize how much time has passed and the most obvious in terms of resemblance, Ba Ye must have seen that. And Zhang Rishan holds his gaze until Ba Ye looks down, takes a deep breath, closes his mouth and lets himself plop back down to sit on the ground, his whole body curling inwards. This would be a lot to take in for everybody and Zhang Rishan would like to give Ba Ye a moment to compose himself without everyone else staring at him. There are things he hasn’t told them yet, but he is still not sure how to put any of that into words.

“Did the murals say anything about something being confined here?” Zhang Rishan asks Wu Xie, who just looks puzzled. “Confined? What do you mean?” And he really has to try and put it into words, there is no way around it, is there? He takes another deep breath through his nose. “For the ceremony I was kneeling in that pool and when the tremors started I fell into whatever liquid is in there, and it was like - like there was something in there with me. Like it was a living thing with a consciousness and whatever we did in that ceremony it set that thing free.” He can already feel some doubtful looks but nobody starts to interrupt him and Wu Xie actually nods thoughtfully like he can imagine that, so he continues: “It was communicating with me, not with words, more like with feelings and impressions,” and he just waits for Huo Daofu to interrupt him, to say something about blood loss and hallucinations, but he doesn’t, he just doesn’t - “It made very clear that it had been imprisoned here for whatever purpose and that it was just so very thankful that I set it free.”

Everyone is quiet, mulling over those words. There are still so many questions, like who or what had controlled them to enact this ceremony? Had it been the imprisoned being? Or something else? But why? And who had sealed the tomb? And why?

“So you set some ancient being free and someone from your past turns up. What if he is no human but that being in the shape of someone it saw while it was inside your mind?” Liu Sang questions, looking at Ba Ye thoughtfully who stops his calculations to stare back incredulously. “What? First I’m dead, now I’m some preternatural being? Let me tell you, I’m just a fortune teller!” He acts and sounds just like Ba Ye, but Liu Sang has a point, that being had looked into his mind, had probably had access to all his thoughts and memories. It makes his head hurt even thinking about it.

Pangzi and Liu Sang start bickering about how to test that theory, to find out if someone is human and it only gets more chaotic when Zhang Qiling wakes up and Wu Xie starts worrying over him, asking him how he feels and if he is alright while Huo Daofu tries to rule out a concussion. Zhang Rishan tries to ignore them for the moment, even though he would like to get Zhang Qiling’s version of the ceremony. He feels torn between the possible explanations for this situation, but why would some ancient being that had been trapped in a cave for centuries if not millenia take human form and stay with them? To play tricks on him? Or maybe-

“Lieutenant, if so much time has passed that the grandson of Wu Laogu is at least as old as I am, how come you haven’t aged a day?” Ba Ye’s question jolts him out of these thoughts. “It’s a Zhang-family-thing”, he answers, because Ba Ye already knows so much about their family that it should be enough. Ba Ye nods, visibly brightening at the answer, as if he had hoped for something along those lines. “So, why don’t we just ask Fo Ye for help to prove I’m just a normal human? I mean, if that being was in your head and knows what you know it doesn’t know everything about me.”

Of course he would think of Fo Ye as the answer to everything and of course Zhang Rishan has to say it now. He shakes his head slightly and forces himself to watch Ba Ye’s face and catalogue his reaction. “No. Fo Ye is not with us anymore.” It’s cruel, so cruel to tell him like this and Zhang Rishan hates it even more than he hates saying the words at all. Ba Ye’s whole face crumples but he visibly tries to hide his distress. “How on earth am I supposed to prove I’m just a normal human, then?” he bristles, obviously trying to distract himself with anger. “Tell me! What should I do!” Those last words are directed towards Pangzi and Liu Sang behind him who actually stop their bickering and have the grace to look embarrassed.

“Why would that being even want to stay here? What could be in it for... it?” Pangzi voices Zhang Rishan’s thoughts from before. “Maybe it needs help to leave the cave?” Wu Xie suggests, joining the conversation again after assuring himself that Zhang Qiling is fine aside from a cut on his forehead. “Or maybe it’s just lonely and looking for some company?” Huo Daofu throws in and Zhang Rishan isn’t sure if it’s meant to be a joke or a real suggestion. But if they are just casually throwing around theories he can add one, too.

“Maybe it’s an illusion.” Even if there is no meteorite around and even if he had set that theory aside before. Ba Ye inhales sharply at that suggestion and slaps Zhang Rishan’s knee a little harder than necessary. “Aiya! An Illusion? Does that feel like an illusion? Is there a meteorite around that you haven’t told me about? Shouldn’t you be able to tell the difference?” Ba Ye slaps him again and Zhang Rishan just lets him, flinching only a little. It makes Luo Que beside him tense noticeably, like he contemplates grabbing Ba Ye’s arm and stopping him from hitting his boss, but in the end he doesn’t move and just watches.

“Should I? I mean you were the one who realized it was an illusion back then, and you guided us out of it.” Ba Ye harrumphs at that, knitting his brows. “It’s not an illusion”, Wu Xie says and the certainty in his voice makes it easy to just accept it. After all Wu Xie had come with him and should be a real person, even if they stepped into some fake world at some point, just like Fo Ye, Ba Ye, Er Ye and Chen Pi had been real people who stepped into the meteorite.

“Thank you!” Ba Ye says, giving Wu Xie a small bow. “And if you let me, I can show you that I am perfectly capable of leaving this place all on my own.” Which leaves them with: a lonely godly being looking for company (or a bored godly being looking for some fun?) or the possibility that it is really Ba Ye.

For a moment everyone is quiet again and Zhang Rishan takes the chance to ask Zhang Qiling how he had experienced being possessed or remote controlled or whatever it had been. His answer is disappointingly simple and his experience almost the same as Zhang Rishan’s, except that he had not been in contact with another consciousness but had been knocked out really hard by something as soon as the cave had started to shake. Which confirms Zhang Rishan’s suspicion that there had been something with him in the pool.

He gets up, startling both Ba Ye and Luo Que with the sudden movement, making them stand up with him as if they are preparing to catch him again. It’s endearing and disconcerting at the same time and he opts to ignore the way it makes him feel for the moment, but tucks the feeling away to pick it apart later.

The pool is surprisingly dry and empty, but covered in the same white flaky residue both Zhang Rishan and Ba Ye are covered in, which is reassuring because it means there had been something before. For a moment Zhang Rishan just stares at the empty pool, trying and failing to find a hole or a crack in the stone through which the liquid could have vanished. Surely it did not just evaporate into thin air? His memory is not clear enough to dispel the thought that maybe the liquid had not vanished but changed its shape and made itself into a human being.

“Huh? Why is it empty?” Pangzi asks which makes Zhang Rishan release a breath he hadn’t even been aware of holding. “It wasn’t empty when you could get in?” he reassures himself, looking at the other man. “Hah! Wish it had been, do you have any idea how hard it was to get you out of that stuff?” Pangzi snorts and points at the smudged edge of the pool, where a very visible track of white covers the ground all the way over to their sleeping bags. It also makes Zhang Rishan notice the white smudges all over Pangzis clothes only to find the man grinning at him when he looks up again. The corners of his mouth twitch involuntarily in quiet amusement and he nods his thanks, which makes Pangzi grin even more.

With the pool providing no answers at all Zhang Rishan walks over to the wall to look at the murals, soon joined by Wu Xie who points to the parts of the murals he had mentioned before. It shows a group of people in clothing Zhang Rishan has never seen building this tomb. Maybe some minority? They have no idea how old this tomb is, after all or how long it had been sealed. In the next part of the mural it almost looks like they are summoning the unknown god and not merely worshipping and some part of Zhang Rishan’s mind resonates with that thought. The ceremony looks just like what the two of them had enacted, one person in the pool and the other at the altar with a dagger. But it almost seems like the sacrifice on the mural dissolves into the pool, a thought he really doesn’t want to dwell on.

After that the mural gets quite confusing, depicting the statue that is broken now and people celebrating rich harvests, without any clear connection. He looks back at the picture of the god, tracing the faded lines with his fingers trying to recall everything the being in the pool had tried to tell him through thoughts and feelings and suddenly he understands. Or at least he thinks he does.

“They didn’t worship the god, they captured it and confined it in here because as long as it was here everything around it would be thriving, rich harvests, no sicknesses, people living long and full lives.” As soon as he says it he knows it’s true and he finds Wu Xie nodding next to him. “So, you set that god free and as a gesture of thanks it returned a dead person from your past?” And Zhang Rishan knows dead people don’t come back to life, but this is a god they are talking about and it had made everything else grow, had kept people healthy and strong. Maybe it could do this too?

“I’m still not dead and I was never dead!” Ba Ye protests from beside him and reminds Zhang Rishan that he still doesn’t know what happened when Ba Ye vanished back then, how or when he died. He looks at him and contemplates asking just that but somehow he is afraid of the answer. “Maybe you died and you just forgot.” Pangzi says, pushing at one of the larger rocks left over from the statue with his foot.

“How would someone forget his own death, this is ridiculous! An hour ago I was just in my room, enjoying a nice cup of tea and suddenly I find myself in this cave, almost drowning in that pool!” Ba Ye gestures wildly and angrily with his arm, almost slapping Zhang Rishan in the face in the process, but Pangzi is unimpressed. “How could you not forget your death? Or the fact that you died. Maybe you just dropped dead drinking your tea, things like that happen. Who knows.”

“He didn’t drop dead, he vanished without a trace, leaving everything behind”, Zhang Rishan interjects. If Ba Ye had just dropped dead there would have been a funeral and it would have been just as sad and hard, but there wouldn’t have been a mystery, no reason to wish to know what happened.

“Well, maybe he did drop dead and that god plucked his body from the past, brought him back to life and put him here”, Wu Xie shrugs, “I mean, my terminal lung cancer got healed by magic golden coffin water in thunder city, so it’s not that far-fetched.”

And - oh, oh - realisation hits him like a punch to the sternum, taking his breath away, almost making him double over and sink to his knees. It had been him. Ba Ye never just vanished, had never been kidnapped by the Japanese or Qiu De Kao. He had never died, he had been snatched away by this being - god - whatever - and placed here and now, with Zhang Rishan, because it had wanted to give him something he had lost. But Ba Ye had never been lost, he had been stolen, stolen because Zhang Rishan is selfish and thoughtless and cruel and - He has done this. He has done this to Ba Ye. And to Fo Ye. And -

He can’t breathe. How can he ever say this? How can he ever tell Ba Ye? He can never be forgiven for this, there is no way, absolutely no way. Look out for Ba Ye, that had been his order, the one most important to Fo Ye and thus the most important to Zhang Rishan. And he had failed, miserably - no, he had done the opposite! And for the first time in quite a while he wishes Fo Ye was the one with a long life and not him. Fo Ye would never have done something so stupid.

Unbidden he remembers the illusion he had fallen victim to below the Chen tree, Fo Ye with his gun pointed at him, disappointed, so disappointed and he wishes it had been real, that he had died that day so he would have never been able to come here today. But Ba Ye had been missing before, he had vanished before Zhang Rishan had ever been to this tomb and shared his memories with a god. There would have been no reason to wish to know what happened that day if nothing had happened. And that really makes his head hurt, how is it even possible? How does this work, today and the past linked like this? Like it had always been meant to be this way?

#I wrote this instead of sleeping #dmbj fic #mystic nine #zhang rishan #qi tiezui #fuba #wibbly wobbly timey wimey #ba ye

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achliegh · 3 years

Text

Golden

SORRY FOR THE WEIRD SCHEDUALE RIGHT NOW!!!!

Yeehaw Leo… it's all because this song came on one day (I don’t even really listen to country anymore so it really is fate). Leo is based off that song, each chapter is going to be based off a yeehaw song too.

Characters belong to @lumosinlove

Beta: @the-most-slyterin-hufflepuff & @punkkkboi

TW/CW: Smut, terrible yeehaw sayings and jokes, injuries, mentions of past death/suicide, minor character death, underage drinking, mentions of past arrests, cringe

Chapter Songs (listening in order is recommended):

Chapter 11:

Monsters

I Think I’m Okay

Clay looked so good, and it was making Noelle feel some type of way. He was sprawled out on the couch, one arm over the arm of the couch by his head while his other hand was holding his phone. The leg on the inside of the couch was straight and his other was bent. He was wearing a pair of running shorts that he only wears at home that are just a little snug around his thighs. He was wearing a shirt that was old and well worn, it was short enough that it rested above his belly button, showing off his happy trail that Noelle can’t help but follow down with her eyes as she finishes sorting some clothes that she wants to donate.

Thomas and Noelle haven’t done anything sexual with Clay yet because they want to have a talk about boundaries and everything before they just… jump into sex. But, she was reaching her limit, Clay has been driving her insane lately. Even if it is little things that he doesn’t mean to be sexy, it makes her have to take a breath and calm down a little. Sometimes she even has to leave the room to give herself a moment to collect her thoughts.

She couldn’t take it anymore though, she was at the edge. She stands up and walks over to him, standing in front of him she puts her hands in her sweatpant pockets and just looks down at him. Waiting for him to look up at her.

“What’s up, Buttercup?” He clicks his phone off and puts it on his chest, putting both his hands behind his head and smiling up at her with his stupidly sweet smile. She swallows the cotton feeling in her mouth. She doesn’t say anything, she just straddles him, obviously taking him by surprise from the way his hands flew to her hips. “Feeling lonely?” He is rubbing his thumbs up and down on her hips in soothing circles as he looks at her full of adoration.

Making her stomach flutter.

Smiling, she leans down and kisses him. He returns the smile and the kiss, he expects it to stay gentle and innocent like all their kisses have been. But he is surprised when she grabs his face and deepens the kiss. Soon they are in a heated make out. Noelle is pulling his head by his hair into deeper and more intense kisses. Their tongues dance around each other but Noelle is in control. They pull away just far enough that they are basically breathing each other in, Noelle has this wild look in her eye that makes Clay feel hot all over. That dull heat all over turns into a sharp spike of heat when she starts kissing by his ear and whispers.

“I want to fuck you.”

He pulls away and looks her in the eyes again, it sends a shiver of excitement straight to his groin. Clay is someone who loves being used, loves being submissive, and thinks he loves her as well. His brain is almost gone into a submissive state but he picks her up and carries her to Thomas’ room. He sets her down on her feet next to the bed.

“You really want to fuck me?” He takes his shirt off and sits on the bed. Looking up at her with his big brown eyes in a way he knows drives people insane. Especially people like Noelle. She nods and walks towards him, placing a hand on his chest and pushing him so he lays down. Her hand travels down to his waistband with featherlight touches, she looks up at him for permission to take his shorts off and he gives it to her.

She yanks them off him and just about pulls him off the side of the bed, causing both of them to laugh, leaning down for a couple of kisses, Clay pulls her tank top off as she pulls away.

“You’re beautiful.” He looks at her and places one of his hands on her ribs and pulls her closer so she is straddling his waist. He smiles at her and sits up a little so he can start kissing on her collarbones and chest, he remembers Thomas mentioning how sensitive her boobs are. He smiles and wraps his arms around her waist as he starts showing her boobs some attention, she starts to squirm but doesn’t pull away, instead hugging his head to keep his face in her chest.

He loves boobies.

After a while she reaches around and grabs his wrists and pins him to the bed, so they are face to face.

“Let’s get you ready for me to fuck you, yeah? I can already feel just how much you’re dripping for me.” She smirks at him as she runs a finger up his shaft of his leaking cock. He swallows down a moan but his breathing starts picking up. “Get comfy while I go get some things.” She gives him a kiss and gets off the bed, wandering into the closet to get her things.

She comes back after a few minutes with a couple of fun things. First off, she is wearing a bright pink strap-on the dick is dark dark fuchsia and it was about the same size as Clay.

She also tosses a bottle of oil based lube on the bed and crawls over to him. Laying down between his legs and giving his thighs a few kisses.

“Have you ever been fucked before?” Clay was watching her but not answering as he had mostly slipped into his submissive state of mind. So, she pushes herself up and looks at him with a serious look. “Answer me Clay.”

“Yes, I have. Only once because I’m usually with women, who don’t want… this.” He gestures between them as Noelle rubs his thigh and grabs the lube. “Have you fucked Thomas before?” He watches her fingers rub together to warm up the lube as she starts lowering her fingers towards his entrance.

“Not Thomas, I’ve asked but he has never been into it. But… I have fucked a few people before and have been wanting to do it since. This strap is very special, not only does it go into you and make you feel good.” She bites her lip as she slips a finger into Clay who is nice and relaxed as well as extremely horny. “It also goes into me and makes me feel good.” She smirks as Clay takes a shaky breath as she starts moving her finger in and out of him.

“Fuck, really? That's uh- so hot!” It has been a few minutes and Noelle has added in another finger and is curling them to press into his prostate. She definitely knows what she is doing. Clay moves his hands under his thighs and grips them to pull them up higher. He hears Noelle curse under her breath and he whines, arching his back as she adds another.

“You’re doing so good for me baby, so amazing. I’m so proud of you.” Noelle watches as a flush appears in Clay’s chest and a sappy smile rushes onto his face. She moves her hips a bit so the dildo that is in her attached to the strap relieves her with some pleasure for a moment.

“Noelle.” Clay calls for her attention and she looks into his eyes and sees he is in another place. “Please, I need you.” She kisses his hip hiding her smiles and slides her fingers out of him, she grabs the lube again and pours it onto the dildo and spreads it over the plastic appendage. She smiled and happened to take a look at the clock.

“I think it’s time to call Thomas, is that okay?” Clay nods, she grabs her phone and was first going to just call him but decided that facetiming him would be more effective. She sets the ringing phone right next to them and teases Clay by tracing his entrance with the dildo. Thomas answers and she enters Clay, holding his hip and slowly pressing in, until Clay grabs her ass and pulls her in harder. He moans loud and Noelle joins him as she is also fucked.

She tries to talk to Thomas but his connection is too bad. So he hangs up and calls back with a normal call. She answers.

“Hi!” Noelle answers, out of breath and panting. “I was trying to facetime you to show you something beautiful but sadly we don’t have a good connection. Sad~.” Noelle purrs into Clay’s ear, which is also right next to the phone as she continues to slowly pull out and push in, groaning quietly herself.

“I- What are you doing? You have your sexy voice on!” She smiles and feels Clay wraps his arms around her and his legs as she starts moving fast, causing his moaning to get louder and squeezing her with every jolt of pleasure he feels from her grazing his prostate.

“Mm I’m doing Clay.” She smirks and nips at Clay's jaw. “You know what I meant right~ I’m doing Clay.” She hears fumbling on the line and knows Thomas is taking off his clothes. She whispers to Clay. “Let him hear how pretty you sound. Let him know you’re here.”

“T-Thomas! Ugh-ah I-I FUck.” Noelle would thrust in deeper or harder when he would try to speak and watch as his eye would roll back in his head. She herself was starting to feel herself getting closer to the edge and she knows Thomas doesn’t last long in bed. “Fuckfuckfuckfuck- FUCK!” Clay was gripping onto her anyplace he could, his back was starting to arch, his toes were curling on her back where his ankles were crossed.

“You sound so good, Clay.” Thomas was getting off to this by the sound of his voice and the random groans they could hear. Noelle taps Clay’s arm so he loosens them and takes him by surprise by pinning his biceps to the bed and starting to pound into him, hard and fast, but not too deep. Clay starts basically screaming, Noelle’s moans weren’t any quieter, both focused on their own orgasm’s getting cloers as Thomas listened and imagined what was happening.

Noelle and Clay start to sloppily make out as they get close, Noelle actually breaks first. As she is cuming she pounds into Clay, riding out her waves. Causing Clay to fall over the edge completely untouched and the hardest he has ever came.

Thomas muffled himself with his hand a few seconds after Clay. All of them panting, Noelle having collapsed onto Clay who is still out of it but is petting her hair.

“You two- are going to kill me.” Thomas huffs over the line, causing Noelle and Clay to smile. “What brought this on?” His phone call was becoming spotty and they don’t know if it was like that the whole time or if it was just starting.

“I was horny.” Noelle laughs a little as Thomas makes fun of her. “Your call is starting to break up, Doll.” Thomas said a glitchy goodbye after a while, staying with Clay as Noelle cleaned them up and made sure Clay was alright.

Noelle hasn’t been in this good of a mood in a while.

Leo and Clay knock on the door of Reg’s house, waiting patiently for their bestie to open the door. When Reg opens the door he is met with a rather uncomfortable looking Clay leaning against Leo who has the biggest shit eating grin on his face.

“Ummmm, did I miss something?” Leo’s grin gets even bigger as Clay turns red.

“Well-”

“Noelle fucked Clay so hard he can’t stand properly.” Leo cuts Clay off and receives a backhand to the stomach causing him to fold over a bit as he laughs. Reg can’t help but snort at them too. Walking, or limping, into the house the trio makes their way to the kitchen where a makeshift barber shop was set up.

“Okay so, Leo, you just want your head shaved right?” Leo nods and sits on the chair as he is scrolling through Finn and Logan’s joint tik tok account. Reg has noticed that's a coping mechanism for him when he isn’t around his boys. He can still see and feel the love from them even when they aren’t there.

Yes, Leo has somehow gotten the whole tiktok community to think he is homophobic… because he always duets their tiktoks in a way of making fun of them in a way they all know is just leo missing them, but some people don’t see it that way.

Like dueting their coming out video with him shoving popcorn in his mouth and then spitting it out when they kiss and acting disgusted and offended.

Leo lets Reg work on shaving his hair off while his eyes are closed and he just enjoys the chitter-chatter of his friends while his head becomes lighter physically and emotionally because his boys come back home tomorrow night.

They are coming back to him, willingly.

Leo is brought out of his meditative mindset when Reg pokes his head right above his left temple and says something that Leo misses.

“Huh?”

“You have a strawberry on your head.” Reg smiles at him and pokes his tattoo again.

“Oh yeah! I always forget I have that one until I shave my head again.” He smiles as he takes the mirror from Reg and looks at his hair and said tattoo. “I got it… in Georgia after I lost a bet. It’s my sweetest tattoo.” He hands the mirror back and Clay narrows his eyes at the chair from where he was leaning against the counter.

“Do I have to sit? Leo is taller than me and Eloise usually cuts my hair soooooo…. I vote he does it.” Clay sends them his usual blinding smile that convinces way too many people into giving him what he wants.

“Fine, but I can’t promise it will be good.”

“Thomas can always fix it.” The little smile that tugs at Clay’s lips is frankly adorable in Leo’s opinion. Leo has been with Clay through all his ‘relationships’ and no one has ever made Clay react like that.

He deserves to be this happy.

Leo gets to work on Clay’s hair, Clay usually gets the normal short on all sides and long on top. The top of his hair that he likes to have longer needs a trim though, so Leo lets Reg tell him what to do because they have been cutting their own hair since they were 12 because his parents said barbers and hairdressers were dirty.

Does Leo shave a bit too high in the back?

Maybe…

Does he tell Clay?

Nope! Because it’s kinda funny.

“What's the plan for your hair Reg? It looks nice long, honestly. 10/10 would smash. But, you said you had an idea but wouldn’t tell us.” Leo hops on the counter next to where Clay is leaning and causally bumps Clay a little. Making him catch himself and jolt a little from the soreness of his booty. Which again, bring on another smack to the stomach.

“I think.. I want a mullet.”

“The country lifestyle has really taken over you!” The two yeehaws high five and whoop a little.

“Non! I want a more, I don’t know, punkish maybe alternative style mullet? Does that make sense?” When the response is crickets Reg decides to pull of the photo of the man he saw with this hairstyle. “Make sense?”

“I think so, but your hair is curly and his isn’t so it isn’t going to look the same.”

“No shit Clay.”

“I was just saying!”

Reg smiles and rolls his eyes, Leo takes his phone. Looking closer at the picture he looks at Reg and then back at the picture.

“You can definitely pull this off. Let’s do it!” Setting the phone on the counter and hoping back off Leo pushes Reg down in the chair and gets to work. After cutting the first strand of hair he asks Clay to stand in front of Reg and hold the phone so he can look at the picture and work on the hair. Asking Reg how to do certain techniques.

Once the last cut is done, Leo once again looks at the picture and back at Reg.

“I think I did it…? I tried my best, dude.” Clay hands Reg the mirror. Holding the mirror up and looking at himself, Reg notices a few odd cuts but his hair is so curly that is styled right no one would notice. He feels this feeling, he doesn’t know what it is, but it fills his tummy and makes him feel like the person in the mirror is really him.

“I love it, I really really love it.” They stand and hug Leo, taking him off guard but Leo hugs back in the tight way he always does.

“I’m very happy I didn’t fuck it up. Also, point to me for making you happy enough to hug me.” They pull away and Reg can’t help but look at himself in the mirror again. He’s just waiting to look again and his hair is back to the military style cut he has had his whole life. It never does though.

“We should probably clean up, maybe we could sell our hair online and get some money.” Clay is looking into the closet where all the brooms are and pulling out three. “I would like to make it at least twenty more years before I keel over and if your brother sees this mess.. I give us two minutes after he gets home.” Tossing a broom at Leo, he does catch it, but accidentally hits the mirror out of Reg’s hand and it smashes to the ground. Loud enough to hear the mirror break.

Oh shit.

“Leo! That’s seven years of bad luck!” Leo rolls his eyes, Reg always talks about superstitions and Leo being the smart man he is. Doesn’t believe in them.

“Reg, that's not real. I have broken many mirrors and have never had bad luck.” He starts cleaning up the glass with said broom, he makes a pile of glass and hair. Going to grab a dust pan he just does his thing while he feels two sets of eyes on him. “What?”

“Leo, you literally have the worst luck.”

“No I don’t! Now get to cleaning maid boy!” Clay flips him off.

“I’m gonna turn on music as we clean like the children of god we are, after we should make food because I’m a hungry bitch.” Reg is tapping on his phone and turns on Monsters by All time Low, before grabbing his own ‘broom’ which is the only one left.. The little hand broom, so they are on their knees like Cinderella.

Leo walks into the apartment, it's empty, obviously. He sets his keys on the counter, automatically turning on some music from the same station he was listening to at Reg’s while they made dinner and cleaned up. He sits on the couch, scrolling through his phone for a bit, just mindlessly looking at things when he gets a text from his mom.

Text from: Mother Goose

8:27pm

Hi Merigold, I wanted to text you and tell you about how my check up went. I meant to do it a while ago but forgot when Peanut decided to try and eat my hair while I was grooming him. I was told I need to get another aid for my right ear because my hearing has deteriorated too much for me not to have one anymore. So now your mama is definitely going to start learning ASL, I think you should too.

8:29pm

Mama you know I don’t want to learn how to sign

8:29pm

But I’ll try for you

8:30pm

Thank you Goldie Locks! I need to go do my beauty routine before heading to bed! Peanut and I miss you baby.

Image.4457

Leo smiles at the picture of his mom sticking her tongue out in the same way Peanut is in the photo, he misses them a lot and it was really really hard the first week he was living here because he couldn’t take Peanut out and just escape the world.

But now he copes by letting Logan color in his back tattoo with scented markers as Finn lets him rest his head on his lap while he reads to them. Leo has learned that Logan shows his love in many different ways, but his favorite is drawing on the people he loves.

Connecting Finn’s shoulder freckles into shapes.

Coloring in Leo’s back piece.

Drawing a mustache on Sirius when he is asleep in random places.

He paints the Dumias’ kids nails and ‘tattoos’ them with a washable marker. Ever since they met Leo and Clay they have been interested in tattoo’s, having never seen Logan’s own tattoo.

Randomly drawing tiny smiley faces with an ink pen on his teammates.

Once he colored Dumo’s toes orange while he was sleeping on the couch while Celeste and the kids watched.

He writes little quotes on Celeste's left palm.

He can’t express his feelings with words, so he does with actions instead. Leo loves it, Logan has never colored the tattoo on his back in the same way more than once, and it always looks beautiful.

Fuck… He misses them. Then remembers the game is on live right now, so he turns it on to watch his boys play against Ravenclaw. He ends up falling asleep as Kuny gets interviewed in the locker room.

He will see them tomorrow.

#leo knut #logan tremblay #finn o'hara #james potter #thomas walker #Clayton Bruss #o'knutzy #o’knutzy #lumosinlove #sweater weather #coast to coast

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frostedfaves · 4 years

Text

Sharp Edges

Masterlist

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: “They say home is where your heart is, but what if my heart is six feet underground with you?”

Warnings: heavy angst, grieving, major death, depression, brief mention of implied vomiting, funeral at the end

A/N: sorry if you came here for a good time, but this is not it! based on these Sad Sunday and Fluff Monday blurbs! I’d recommend reading them first since they’re referenced in this, but not entirely necessary. anyway, excited to hear your thoughts! also I meant to post a request today and save this for next week but I started writing this during work and couldn’t stop. so I’ll work on getting requests out next week since I’ve got Sad Sunday tomorrow!

marvel requests?

Wanda Maximoff misses you.

When the news broke that you’d died from your injuries before she could get to you, her body collapsed on the spot. Her mind instantly recalled the memory of the last time she’d seen you truly happy.

For a week straight, your hands were covered in clay. Due to your lack of a childhood, you’d never gotten to experience normal things like attempting pottery in an art class. When you finally discovered it, the team never heard the end of it. You’d annoyed Tony into buying a kiln after coming home with enough clay to build a small village and got to work.

You worked a while on making tiles and carving winter trees and flowers into them, eventually moving onto dishes. You’d perfected plates and bowls but couldn’t figure out mugs, which only made you work harder to the point where Wanda had to drag you to the kitchen and bed each day.

On that seventh day you’d run into Wanda’s room, tackling her into a pile of laundry she was sorting because you were just that excited. You’d finally made a mug worth putting into the kiln, and a celebratory kiss was in order. She’d helped you pick out colors to paint it with, sporting a proud smile and eyes full of adoration.

She pressed repeat on your ecstatic screams echoing in her thoughts, hoping to drown out the cries of pain she’d heard over the phone. You’d been taken by an enemy from her very last mission, someone who had no knowledge that when Wanda disappeared months prior, she left you behind. They could only assume that you would be the easiest way to find her, not aware that you were just as in the dark on her whereabouts.

She’d listened with tears streaming down her cheeks as your captor made you beg, packing her belongings frantically while each whimper of her name turned her stomach a bit more. The regret of leaving her Lovely behind was immense, and she wanted nothing more in the moment than burning her enemy alive and bringing you into her arms forever.

There was a mixture of emotions in everyone when Wanda finally reached the compound, much slower upon receiving knowledge that your body rested there. Broken spirits lay behind defeated and tearful eyes, but looking into Steve’s nearly sent her crumbling to the floor again.

They were cold and dark, as they earned the right to be. The eyes of a man who comforted his best friend for weeks, day and night, when the love of her life deserted her in her sleep. He was no stranger to your heavy sobs in the shower, overheard when he put sweaters in the dryer and left them in the bathroom because you shivered constantly. Your lifeless eyes at the dinner table when he forced you to leave your room. Sitting with you in the medical wing after breaking your wrists on the punching bag.

As far as Steve Rogers was concerned, Wanda deserved every bit of pain she felt.

This thought mixed in with the flashes of his memories of your suffering is what sent her to the floor, gasping for air with a wet face. Through Natasha and Tony’s legs as they approached her she caught him walking away, and it only made it harder to breathe.

Your funeral came days later, and Wanda spent the entirety of the time in your room. The scent of your favorite lotion on her hands pulled her into a nightmare filled sleep, and she found comfort in it knowing that her reality upon waking up was far more painful. After taking a shower and checking with FRIDAY on Steve’s location in the building, she found herself staring at an empty space in one of the kitchen cupboards.

“Wanda, what’s going on?”

She turned at the sound of Pepper’s voice, heart clenching painfully at the sight of her formal dress. “Where’s her mug?”

“She smashed it.”

“What?” She wanted to ask why, but stopped herself in fear of the answer.

“She used it for the first time a month after you left. When she went to wash it, she saw where you’d painted on the bottom ‘Lovely’s Mug, Do Not Use’ and threw it against the nearest wall.”

Wanda pushed past Pepper and sprinted to the closest bathroom, not even caring if anyone walked past and heard the violent act of everything she’d held back spilling out. Gentle hands came a few minutes later, one rubbing her back and the other wrapping any loose hairs around her poorly formed bun. When she’d finished, the toilet was flushed for her and a half empty bottle of water was shoved into her shaky grip.

“Rinse.”

She blinked in surprise at the stern tone, turning her teary gaze to meet eyes much softer than days prior. She stood on shaky legs after following his instruction and using the water, her confusion only growing as he helped her lean against the sink for support.

“I thought you hated me,” she voiced her concern into the quiet room, and Steve sighed.

“I want to, trust me.” He took the bottle from her and used his free hand to scratch at his beard nervously. “I loved--love her like family and when you left, it felt like she left too. Just when I thought I was getting her back, she was taken from me for good. As much as I want to hate you, I can’t. Especially knowing that until her last breath, she loved you.”

He stepped forward again, pulling Wanda into a warm embrace as tears rolled down both of their cheeks. The air grew still, heavy with emotion and silence punctuated with their sniffles.

“I hate that I ruined something she was so proud of making. Everything I touched of hers, I destroyed. Her mug, her heart. I wish I’d never left, and sometimes I wish I never met her. She would’ve done much better without me.”

Her next sniffle was cut short when Steve pulled away just enough to make eye contact.

“You may have made a small part of her life hard, but you spent much more time making her happy. Because of you, she stopped being so afraid of nighttime storms, instead associating it with time to spend close to you. She tried new things and worked harder on missions to help create a safe future for the two of you to exist in. And if anything, she’s inspired me to do the same, for you and all of us.”

Wanda remained silent as she mulled over his words, continuing to do so as she got dressed for the worst event of her life, only tied with Pietro’s funeral. She sat in the front row between Steve and Natasha, a numbness taking over as she listened to everyone speak so highly of you. Her arms held tightly to Tony in comfort as he cried in the middle of his speech, allowing Pepper to take over as she took his place in front of everyone.

“This is--for the second time--the worst thing I’ve ever had to do, but I’m not here to talk about me. I want to talk about my best girl, the one I only ever referred to as Lovely, from the moment I met her. In fact, I’d like to talk directly to her, if you don’t mind.”

She turned her gaze directly above the crowd toward the sky, smiling a bit when a bird crossed her line of vision.

“Lovely, I’m so sorry I left you behind. I thought I was protecting you from the monster I believed myself to be, but instead I just made everything worse. I should have stayed. We never got to finish that show we were binge-watching, and I don’t think that I ever will. Not without you.”

She paused for a moment to breathe, also taking the time to clear space on her cheeks for the next round of tears.

“I should have stayed to be around for the next thing you got into after pottery. You deserve to be that excited about something again. I loved the way you’d say my whole name with that shiny look in your eye that just made me love you so much more, and I remember you telling me that if you weren’t so afraid of annoying me, you’d call me by my full name all the time.”

Her eyes blinked as tears clouded her vision once more, allowing them to fall as she turned to your picture beside your covered body.

“I want to say thank you for being an amazing friend and even better girlfriend, Lovely. I didn’t deserve to have you, but I’m glad I was gifted with being a part of your life anyway. I hope that wherever you are, you’re as happy as you made me, and I want you to know something that will forever be true.”

She cleared her throat as her emotions began to choke her there, hands coming to wrap around the pendant of a necklace you gave her as her final words came out in a whisper.

“Wanda Maximoff misses you.”

Tags: @littlegasps @imnotasuperhero @creepingwolfberry @marie-03

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x fem! reader #avengers x reader #avengers #avengers fanfic #avengers imagine #the avengers #avengers x you #avengers x fem!reader #marvel x reader #marvel #mcu x reader

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five-miles-over · 3 years

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Misery Loves Company (Clay Bidwell x Reader)

Summary: After leaving his hometown and all of its chaos, Clay Bidwell meets the reader at a strange bar and the two of them have a much-needed break from their troubles.

Word Count: 2,262

Warnings: swearing, mentions of death (allusions to suicide), and some references to the film Clay Pigeons

If there was one thing that Clay Bidwell could change, it would be his decision to trust Lester Long. I mean, what the hell was he thinking, trusting some new guy in town with a big old grin to keep him safe. That guy's self-appointed nickname said it all: Lester the Molester. What a son of a bitch. What a smiling, cheery, fucking son of a bitch.

He should've seen something wrong when Lester opened his mouth and laughed like a goddamn coyote. He should've seen something wrong when Lester kept a cheery spirit around a corpse floating around in a river. Who in their right mind wouldn't be freaked out by something so creepy? Clay himself vomited at the sight, way before he could even catch any of the stench from the rotting body.

Until his best friend Earl shot himself in front of Clay, he'd never even seen a dead person before. Even though he was from a town so small that everyone knew everyone else and their business, death was always something so…covert. It was a covered-up thing, something private. The family would have their little funeral, and next week the obituary would show up in the newspapers. No one ever really kept the casket open, and it was just assumed that the deceased were off to a better place.

It turned out Earl was just the first one in a morbid domino effect. Next, Clay's ex-girlfriend was shot dead…while she was fooling around with Clay. Finally, Earl's widow, who was fooling around with Clay before Earl died, was found dead in her own home.

And of course, Clay was found to be the common thread linking all of those murders. The cops tried to string together a bunch of bullshit and frame him - Clay fucking Bidwell - as some serial killer with women issues or something like that. He could still hear Agent Shelby interrogating him. "You're dating one victim, you're having an affair with another, and you find the body of the third. Kind of a coincidence, wouldn't you say?" The agents even came into his house one night and conducted some stupid raid for no reason. Right, they thought he had weapons. But hunting was a tradition in his hometown; almost every guy his age had at least one shot gun in their house, even if it was their dad's or uncle's.

So much for having faith in law enforcement to punish the guilty.

Thank goodness they finally came to their senses and went after Lester Long instead. Clay didn't remember much after watching the police cars chase after Lester. All he wanted to do at that time was leave. Leave this small town, and never look back.

So he did just that. As soon as the sirens began to quiet down, Clay jumped into his creaky pick-up truck, stepped on the gas and drove as far from town as possible. He didn't know where he was going, what direction, what road, or any of that shit. All he knew was that he was leaving the town that had nothing left for him anymore. He drove and drove for hours until the sun went down.

It was a long journey, and Clay found himself thanking his past self for leaving a few beers in the passenger seat. They were all empty by the time that twilight turned into night. Though, if Clay was being honest to himself, it probably wouldn't be enough alcohol for him to forget about spending a night in jail on false accusation, or erase all the death he'd seen.

With some of the money left in his glovebox, he pulled over at some gas station and filled up the tank. According to a sign on the road, he was about fifty miles from some city called Great Falls. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea, Clay thought to himself as he held the diesel nozzle, to try his luck in a big city. He heard stories about people having their own rags-to-riches story by leaving their small hometowns behind for busier places. And if nothing else, it'd be great to try and drive around the state just for the hell of it.

With a sigh, Clay watched as the meter reached its limit and the gasoline stopped flowing through the nozzle. The price wasn't all that bad for its mediocre quality, though it probably meant that Clay would have to sleep in his car tonight. It was hard to gauge the quality of the motels around this unfamiliar place, but he was sure that it would cost a lot more than whatever spare change Clay had left. Better to buy a drink, and get some sleep in the backseat, than to risk sleeping at some flea-infested room and wake up to a missing truck.

He parked the truck close to a neon sign - probably some saloon founded by a jaded business fellow - and walked inside. The place wasn't too crowded, with a few heads turning as soon as Clay walked in. Some of the guys were sitting around a table playing cards, and a lot of the customers seemed like they were regular patrons. Were they outlaws? Probably not. Based on the kinds of guys Clay saw in the saloon he used to go to, those guys drinking were probably just looking for an escape from their deadbeat jobs.

He almost smiled a little when he saw a pool table in the center, though it was strange to him that there was no one playing at the moment. Nevertheless, it reminded him of the good days when Earl and him would perfect their skills. By the time Clay turned nineteen, he was one of the best players in town. If he wasn't so blue right now, he'd be willing to show this new place a trick or two.

Clay looked out the window for a moment as he lit a cigarette. No cops in sight tonight? Good.

Taking a seat at the bar, he continued to people-watch until the bartender came up to him and asked for his order. Just as Clay told the bartender the kind of beer he wanted, you walked right inside and sat next to him.

While the bartender went behind to get the cold bottle, Clay looked you up and down, his lip curling upwards into a tiny boyish smirk. Maybe it was the after-effect of the alcohol from this afternoon, but you looked gorgeous to him…and almost a little mysterious, but also approachable. And you definitely looked nothing like the other customers in the saloon. Maybe you didn't come here often, or you were from another town, just like him.

"Hi."

"Oh…um, hi," Clay stammered, realizing you'd caught him staring. "Um…"

Taking control of the conversation, you introduced yourself to him and reached out to shake his hand. "How do you do?"

"I'm fine. You come here often?"

"Not like this." You shook your head and chuckled to yourself before ordering a drink for yourself. Clay sipped from his beer, listening to you tell him that you used to come here with a partner, on a Friday night after the two of you were done with work. "We had a lot of fun," you told him. "But things eventually just went south, we started fighting, and…I found them in bed with someone they'd been seeing on the side. So I packed my things and left…straight here. My stuff is literally sitting in my car right now."

"I'm sorry," you apologized casually, taking your drink. "I just met you. I don't even know your name and I'm already telling you about my break-up."

"It's fine," he replied with a crooked smile. "I'm Clay, by the way."

"So what brings you here, Clay?"

"Um…just, rough times. Needed to leave." He lied, not wanting to talk much about the things that really forced him here. "Sorry about your break-up. I know what it's like. It really sucks."

"To sucky lives and leaving shitty things behind." You toasted in a mock-celebratory tone, raising your drink and clinking it against his bottle. Clay's smile grew just a bit wider, and he even laughed a little.

The next hour felt like it passed by in the blink of an eye. Over the course of two beers (and who knows how many songs on the jukebox), Clay felt like he'd known you for years. Just by the way you talked about how you were almost done with school, and how much you hated your own little town just like he hated his…it was refreshing, to say the least. You seemed earnest, decent, and probably not tangled up in some kind of crime.

"Do you, by any chance, play?" He asked you after a bit of silence.

"Play what?"

"Um, pool." Clay pointed to the table at the center.

"No, never tried it before."

"I could…I could teach you if you like," he suggested. Now the beer was really taking his toll, making him want to show off a little for you.

"I'd love to learn."

You let him lead you towards the table, where the balls were already arranged for a new game. Clay was really friendly in teaching you the basics, on how to hold the pool stick (which was called a cue). He came up behind you, carefully guiding your hand to the right place on the stick and telling you to keep a good grip. Placing a hand over yours, Clay told you that a good shot involved getting the right angle. With another hand on your waist, he shifted you around nonchalantly so that you faced the right pockets of the table.

The alcohol was quite present in his breath while he spoke, but his voice…damn, you could listen to him talk all night. It was nice that you could get him out of his shell by agreeing to learn. And the way his hands felt on you was pretty nice. Eventually, you were able to make a few combination shots, and Clay was pleased.

"Damn, you're a fast learner."

"Thanks. You're a good teacher."

"Put enough quarters on a table like this one, I sure as hell have to be a pro." Clay bragged a little before the two of you laughed.

Suddenly, you put the stick down and walked closer to him with a smirk, not sure about what had gotten into you. "I…uh, I like the way you put your hands on me," you confessed in a whisper.

Catching your tone, he leaned against the table with a raised eyebrow "You did?"

You gave him a nod and mimicked his posture, leaning against the table as well. "I kinda like you, Clay."

"Yeah…I like you too." He goofily admitted, saying your name like it was something absolutely precious.

Making the first move, you gently pecked him on the cheek and ran your fingers through his messy, dark brown hair. A naughty glint in his green eyes, he took your gesture as encouragement…for something he'd shamelessly thought about since he led you over to the pool table. Boldly wrapping his arms around you, he crashed his lips into yours.

You moaned a little, surprised by how dizzying his kiss felt. "Take this…somewhere else?"

"Fuck, yeah."

The two of you made your way over to a slightly more private booth in the saloon, not wasting any time and continuing your make-out session. Clay didn't hesitate to pin you against the wall, bringing your leg up to get closer to you. Soon, his kisses grew sloppier and hungrier, covering your jawline and your neck. Right now, everything else seemed pretty much like a blur to him.

Kissing him back and lightly tugging at his hair, you painfully gasped his name the moment he got a bit too carried away and sucked at your collarbone. That was definitely going to leave a mark for the next morning…but it was totally worth it.

"Stop," you panted, breaking your lips away from his when you both needed air. "That was…that was...wow."

"Yeah, it really was." Clay agreed, his fingers still brushing your thigh. "You're really pretty. Like movie pretty."

"Maybe you're pretty drunk," you retorted. "A cute, pretty drunk who happens to be great at teaching pool."

"Maybe I'm drunk on you."

"What a line." Giggling, you smoothed your hair before going back to the bar, placing some change for the drink you had.

"You leaving already?" Clay followed you with a surprised and crestfallen expression.

You told him it was almost closing time, pointing out how empty the saloon had gotten since you arrived. "I'll tell you what, Clay." Taking a a pen lying around, you wrote your phone number on a napkin and handed it to him. "It's actually my friend's number, but they'll take a message. Besides, that's where I'm heading to stay until I can find my own place."

"That sounds great. I'll, uh, see you around."

"See you around. Thanks for a great night, Clay." You smiled, leaving him with one last kiss before walking out.

Clay took a long look at the napkin before folding it up and keeping it in his jeans pocket. Throwing some of his change on the bar, he left the bar and sat down in his truck. Closing his eyes, he rested his head on the wheel and hoped he'd be sober enough to drive again tomorrow.

#clay bidwell #clay pigeons #joaquin phoenix #joaquin phoenix fic #clay bidwell x reader

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13-reasons-ideas · 3 years

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Can’t Go Back Part 18

A/N: This chapter got away from me a bit. It’s over 6 thousand words so tuck in guys. I hope you like it. And as I’ve said before, any time a character gets sick in this, it’s nothing more than a flu or common bug. Given this is a Before chapter, COVID didn't exist, but just given the situation currently. I feel like it is important to say that. Just a note on temperature. According to Google 52 degrees F is roughly 11 degrees C. 45 degrees F is roughly 6 degrees C. For my fellow non-USians. Feedback is appreciated as always and much love. -Em

Winter formal was upon us. It was only one day out now. Jeff was still on me about going, like he had been for weeks. I still had no intention of going. And as luck would have it, I had just run into the perfect excuse not to go. I woke up Friday morning to my stomach cramping and churning. Oh god this is awful. I feel like I got hit by a truck. Before I even had time to wake up wake up, I rolled over and grabbed my trashcan. My body shook as I coughed. Sitting up, I flung my legs over the side of my bed. My mom knocked on the door. “Addison? Are you alright honey?”

“Yeah Mom. I’m okay. Just not feeling very well.” She opened the door and peeked inside.

“Let me check your temperature.”

“Can I brush my teeth first?” Mum looked around the room cautiously.

“Of course. I’ll be downstairs. Come down whenever you’re ready.” I nodded and held my stomach.

I went downstairs once my teeth were cleaned and I had rinsed my mouth several times. Mum and dad were in the kitchen. I groaned. The smell of coffee brewing was making me queasy. “I already called the school. You’re staying home today.” Mum said, coming to fawn over me. I waved her off.

“Okay. I’ll call Justin and tell him he needs to get himself to school.” I grabbed a pack of saltines and a Gatorade to take upstairs.

“Feel better.” Dad called after me. I heard him say to mum that it probably wasn’t really that bad. “She should still go to school.” Mum didn’t answer. I changed into a different pair of pyjamas and crawled into bed. My crackers and juice were set neatly on the nightstand by my bed. I grabbed the book I was reading last night. As a last-minute decision, I grabbed my trash can and pulled it closer to the bed.

I called Justin after I got comfortable. “Hello?”

“Morning Justy.”

“Morning Addy.”

“I’m sick.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. You’ll need to find your own way to school today.”

“I can do that. Are you sure you’re sick? Or are you just trying to get out of going to Formal?”

“I have crackers and Gatorade. I wasn’t even out of bed yet.”

“Oh.” He exclaimed. “Um. Yeah. You stay in bed. And remember to drink water. And dry toast.”

“I will. Can you grab my homework? And tell Jeff Atkins that I’m sorry I won’t get to enjoy the magic of Winter Formal tomorrow.”

“Sure thing. Feel better.”

“Mhmm. Love you.”

“Love you too.” I rolled over in bed and tried to get a little more sleep. It was a useless venture. I spent half an hour tossing and turning. I couldn’t get comfortable. It was too hot with the blankets on. It was too cold with them off. One leg out didn’t feel much better. My head was starting to hurt. My stomach was doing flips and cramping. Frustrated, I threw the covers off and went to the bathroom. The bottle of Tylenol was shoved in the back of the medicine cabinet. I took two of the foil packets and went back to bed.

Briefly, my mind went there. I had a flash of another kind of foil packet. And a flash of a calendar. My eyes widened slightly before I counted. Then I remembered that we hadn’t not used a condom, ever. I had an IUD. We were protected either way for…. I couldn’t think the word. We also hadn’t had sex in a month. And I had gotten my period between then and now. I sighed in relief. That thought did make me realize I hadn’t texted Monty yet. I took my phone again and saw that he had texted me about fifteen minutes ago.

Morning Addison. I swiped left and his message opened.

Morning Montgomery.

You’re up late this morning.

I’ve actually been up.

Oh? Everything okay?

Yes and no.

I’m kind of sick. But it’s nothing to worry about.

You sure?

Yeah. I’m alright. Just need to eat my crackers, drink my juice, and sleep. On the plus side, I can get out of going to the dance without lying to Jeff Atkins.

I can come by tonight if you want.

I’ll think about it.

Okay. A few minutes later he sent me another text. Why do you call him Jeff Atkins and not just Jeff?

I dunno. He calls me Addison Hawthorne. No one else does it. It’s kind of just a thing we do.

Can I call you by your full name?

No.

Not even occasionally?

No.

Why?

Is your name Jeff Atkins?

No?

Then there is your answer.

Fine, fine. Feel better, okay?

I’ll try.

I’ll text you later baby.

Mmkay. The Tylenol I took was starting to kick in and my eyelids were getting heavy. Before I could drop it, I put my phone on the nightstand. I woke up again around noon. My stomach was feeling a little better, so I sat up and ate a few crackers slowly. The medicine had worn off by now. I grabbed my phone and scrolled through my missed notifications for a bit. Nothing too interesting had happened. I sighed heavily and tossed my phone to the side of my bed.

My book was more interesting than I expected it to be, and soon enough I was almost done. The tri-tone buzz of my phone distracted me. I rested the book in my lap and grumbled to myself. “Who’s texting me now?” It was Jeff Atkins.

Hey Addison Hawthore. Justin tells me you’re sick. I hope you aren’t trying to just avoid the dance.

Jeff Atkins. I would NEVER. I am definitely sick. Doesn’t seem like anything major though. Probably be at school Monday. I trust you will give me a very thorough report on all things Clay Jensen and Hannah Baker?

Glad to hear. Leah says feel better by the way. I’ll find you.

Tell her thank you. Now. I don’t want to be rude, but I’m almost done my book.

See you Monday Addison. I didn’t answer him. I texted Monty instead.

Don’t worry about coming over tonight. I should be fine by Sunday. I’ll see you Monday.

Sounds good.

The rest of the day I lounged in bed. My mum came in to check on me when she got home. Saturday was much of the same as Friday. I stayed in bed. I read another book. I slept. My illness was doing better. Not well enough to go to the dance, but I could handle toast which was a good sign. Justin called me while he was getting ready at Bryce’s.

“Hey Justin, what’s up?”

“Getting ready with Bryce and the guys.” I could hear the boys roughhousing in the background and Justin’s voice seemed far away. He must have had me on speaker.

“Hi boys.”

“Hey.” They called back.

“You stuck me with him tonight.”

“I’m sick Bryce. I would not be very much fun or help at the dance tonight.”

“You say you’re sick.” Bryce kidded back. He must be in a good mood.

“Would you like me to describe to you in detail what I spent my day doing yesterday?”

“Not really.”

“Didn’t think so. Now boys.”

“Yeah Addy?” Justin asked.

“I need all of your attention.”

“We’re listening.” Zach laughed.

“Oh no. Is she going to give us the lecture?”

“What lecture?” Anders asked.

“Yes. She is.” I said. “Please try to keep the shenanigans to a minimum.”

“But they’re fun.” Justin complained.

“So is not getting arrested. Do not add to the population. Remember that is often a permanent commitment. However, I do support the right to choose. Do not fight anyone tonight. And please, for the love of God, if you are going to drink, do not spike the punch bowl. Do not be that guy. And don’t be messy drunk. I want to hear no stories about messy drunk athletes come Monday. And another thing, do not drink and drive. If you need a ride, my mum is perfectly happy to go get you and take you home.”

“She took the fun out of a dance in two minutes.” Someone grumbled.

“That was not me taking the fun out. I’m more than okay with some shenanigans. I encourage some. Please have fun for me. I just don’t want you getting anyone pregnant. You’re all old enough to go to the drugstore or the corner store and buy yourselves some damn condoms. If I can go do it, so can you. As for the drinking and driving thing, a DUI is bad. Especially when you’re underage. My mum likes Justin. So she will gladly give someone a ride if they need.”

“Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Back up. You have condoms?” Bryce asked.

“I’m not the Virgin Mary.”

“Who could you possibly be having sex with?”

“None of your business. And I swear Bryce if you say Justin.” I laughed. I may have said too much.

“You’ll what?”

“She won’t anything. I will.” Justin laughed.

“Oh! One more thing. Don’t screw up Clay’s night.”

“Fine. We won’t. Gotta go, bye.” Bryce said. I could hear him grumbling before Justin hung up. “Wonder how far she’ll go with Jensen, hey Justy?” I rolled my eyes. How can he go from fun and not horrible to a disgusting pig in thirty seconds flat?

By Monday, I was back to feeling like myself. I grabbed a soft cream sweater from my closet and paired it with a floral skirt. A worn in pair of black combat boots and silver studs rounded out the look. I left my hair down to let it air dry without a weird kink in it. Bounding down the stairs, I smiled brightly at my parents. “Morning mum. Morning dad.”

“Morning sweetie.” My mum laughed brightly. My dad looked at me strangely.

“You’re awfully happy this morning.” My smile faltered slightly.

“Well, I’m not physically sick today. I think that warrants being happy. And it’s the last few days before winter break.” There was a voice in the back of my head I tried to ignore. I was happy. I plastered on a smile and grabbed a packet of oatmeal. Silently, I warmed my milk and stirred my breakfast. My parents were going over their schedules for the day. It was just about grade deadline for mum, so she had a stack of tests and papers in her office. Dad was already prepping for tax season in a couple of months. The office at work was stacked too, I’m sure.

“I’m going to take this to school.” I mumbled.

At school, I grabbed my cup of oatmeal to eat before class. “Peaches and cream. Interesting.”

“Jesus.” I gasped. “Morning Monty.”

“Morning Addy.” I began walking to my locker. He fell into step beside me.

“Did you need something?” I was sure people were watching us.

“No. Just wanted to say hi.”

“Okay? You know we are at school, right?”

“Yes. We have chemistry together. Is it really so bad to walk to your locker together?”

“I don’t know Monty.”

“For all anyone knows, I’m looking for Bryce. Who will probably be with Justin. Who will be at your locker.”

“I guess.” I sighed. I handed him my cup of oatmeal. “If you’re going to follow me to my locker, hold this while I get my spoon.” Pulling my bag around me, I took the spoon from the front pocket. Monty handed back my breakfast for me to eat while we walked.

“Peaches and cream oatmeal.” He muttered.

“Huh?”

“Nothing. Just making a mental note.” He smirked. I could see the smile behind his eyes though.

“It was on sale. It was this or plain and plain oatmeal is….”

“Plain.”

“Exactly.”

We made it to my locker, where it just so happened that Justin was waiting for me. With my least favorite white boy in tow. “Hey Justin. Walker.”

“Addy.” Bryce nodded.

“Feeling better?”

“Much. What did I miss Friday?”

“Not a whole lot.” Justin shrugged.

“A better question would be what did we miss?” Bryce asked, looking between Monty and I.

“I was on my way in when I saw her pull in. Figured I’d stop and tell her about what she missed in chem.”

“Which apparently wasn’t much.” I shrugged, scraping the last of my breakfast up. “I need to go to class. I expect a full report on what I missed at the dance at lunch.”

“Jeff will give you one. Don’t worry.” Justin laughed. “You’re awfully invested in Clay and Hannah.”

“I could have been invested in you and Hannah. But….” I looked at Bryce briefly. “Here we are.”

“I don’t think she put out for him, if that’s what you’re wondering.” Monty added.

“Gross.”

“Don’t think he would even know how.” Bryce laughed.

“And I’m leaving. Be nice boys.”

My classes were abuzz with talk of the Winter Formal. Mostly talking about what so and so wore, or who such and such was dancing with, or that one song Tony played that went like this or that. Clearly, I hadn’t missed much. Apparently, Jessica had had one or four too many nips off Bryce’s flask. I rolled my eyes internally. I mean, at least the boys weren’t messy. By the time lunch came, I was excited to hear about anything that wasn’t the dance. I knew, of course, that wouldn’t be the case. But still.

Sliding into my usual seat next to Justin, I placed my head on the table. “What’s eating you?” Scott asked.

“Nothing. I’m just bored of hearing about the dance.”

“It wasn’t that bad. And you haven’t heard Jeff’s retelling of Clay Jensen and Hannah Baker’s dance.”

“I want to hear about that. And then nothing else.” He nodded in understanding.

“Seriously though, are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah. Just had a long weekend is all. Guess it knocked more out of me than I thought.” I heard him hum. Jeff laughed jovially as he sat down. How can one man be so damn happy all the time?

“You missed quite the dance on Saturday, Addison.”

“It seems that way. Though, anything would be better than what I spent the weekend doing.”

“Fair. You’re feeling better?”

“Yeah. Just tired now.”

“I bet. Now. About the dance. More specifically, Clay and Hannah at the dance.”

“Yes. And then no more dance talk please.”

“Okay. So, Clay was being a wallflower.”

“As usual.”

“Yes. But he was sitting on the bleachers across the gym from Hannah. And he waved and nodded at her. When I told him to go, he was all ‘I can’t dance’ and so I was like ‘no one can dance. It’s a dance.’”

“Of course. No one likes the ones who can dance.”

“That’s what I said! He was awkward as hell and then they were cute. Danced around like idiots. Had the best time. Leah thought it was fantastic. I was waiting for the slow song that was coming. Or I hoped it was. And then it did. They were awkward again.”

“Right.” I adjusted my position and leaned in to listen to him better.

“Hey gu-.” Justin said, sitting down.

“Shh.” Charlie cut him off. “Jeff is telling a story.”

“They almost kissed.”

“Almost?”

“But then Jess….”

“Ah, this part of the story I know. She was messy. And Hannah cleaned it up.”

“Yes. But that was the dance. Good time.”

“I’m sorry I missed it.” The boys around me spent the rest of lunch having their own conversations. Or giving me their own rundown of the dance. I tuned most of that out. It was hard to pretend not to notice the small glances Monty was sending my way. I sent a few his way too.

Christmas break, finals, and January flew by. Before any of us knew it, it was February. Valentine’s Day was fast approaching. Which, if you didn’t know from looking at the calendar, you certainly knew by the annual Oh My Dollar Valentines posters. There were little heart shaped boxes of chocolate at all the stores in town. The price of roses soared exponentially. I rolled my eyes as I passed one the first day of February. Justin tried to get me to buy one that day.

“No. I’m not interested in paying for cheer camp.”

“You’re always on my ass about school spirit.”

“Yeah. Because like it or not, you and your friends run this school. School spirit is not paying for the wonderful cause of sending the squad to cheer camp.”

“Fine.” He grinned mischievously at me. I watched him reach into his pocket as we passed one of the many tables lining the halls. “Two Dollar Valentines please.” My eyes widened.

“Justin. No.”

“Oh but it’ll be fun.” He laughed.

“I don’t care.” I couldn’t help but smile. He held it out to me, but I shook my head. “No way.”

“Suit yourself. I know you well enough to fill it out for you anyways.” Justin grinned and stuck his tongue out at me. You little shit. I reached out to grab the paper from him. I was going to return it. He held it above his head. I tried to grab it again and he waved his arm around.

“Give it to me.” I laughed.

“Nope. Get taller and maybe I’ll consider it.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Well then I guess you won’t be getting the survey.” I huffed at him. He lowered his arms and I tried to take it again. He pushed my hand away and took off running. “It’ll be an exciting surprise.” Justin yelled as he ran.

“Justin Foley!” I yelled back. I love that boy. But sometimes I just want to…. Oh. What am I going to tell Monty?I sighed and turned around, intending to cut Justin off at his first class and steal the stupid survey from him. When I turned however, I collided with someone.

“We should really stop running into each other like this. People might think we are together or something.” Monty said.

“Or they’ll think you have a thing for me. Since you seem to be the one who always approaches me.”

“That is definitely a possibility.” He handed me my keys. “Might need these later. Wouldn’t want someone finding them and trying to use them.” He started to walk away backwards. I followed after him.

“I highly doubt someone would try to steal an ’09 Camry.”

“Never know.”

“Besides. It’s Evergreen County. Nothing ever happens here.”

“True. I’ll see you at lunch?”

“Yeah. I need to have some words with Justin Foley.”

“Uh oh. Trouble in paradise?”

“Maybe.” I rose a brow. Monty gave me a funny look. “I’ll explain later.”

At lunch I stopped Justin in the hall on the way to the cafeteria. Pulling him into an empty classroom, I locked the door. “I need that survey back Justin.”

“Why?”

“Because I have no interest in going on a valentines date with someone. You know I hate Valentine’s Day.”

“It could be fun.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“Well, you have thirteen days to change your mind.”

“What do you mean?”

“I submitted it on the way to second period.” I blinked at him. Did he just say…?

“You what?”

“I submitted it already. You’ll be receiving a list of ‘promising matches’ on Valentine’s Day.” Oh no. Throwing my head back, I sighed very heavily.

“I hate you.” I groaned.

“I love you too Addy.” Justin brushed past me to leave. “I’ll save you a seat?”

“Nope. That’s okay. I need a break from the testosterone today.”

“Okay.” As soon as he was gone, I texted Monty.

Hey. I need to talk to you. Can you meet me in the library?

Yeah. Bring a book?

Please. My locker was on the way, so I grabbed my books for the rest of the day.

There was a table free in the back of the room. I snagged it so Montgomery and I could have some privacy. He found me a little while later. I was pretending to be taking notes. In actuality, I was doodling and trying not to think about his reaction to Justin’s little stunt. Or reactions. “What’s going on?” He asked as he sat down.

“Hi to you too.”

“Sorry. Hi. What’s going on?”

“So don’t freak out.”

“Don’t start with don’t freak out and I won’t freak out.”

“Justin uh,” I paused.

“Justin? What?”

“Justin filled out and submitted a Dollar Valentine for me.” I quickly added, “I didn’t ask him to. He just bought it and did it. I was going to get it back from him at lunch, but he submitted it on his way to second.” I looked up. Monty was staring at me. And he was… what is he doing? And then his lip twitched. He was trying not to laugh. “What?”

“That’s what this is about? That is what was so urgent?”

“Yes?”

“The fact that Justin Foley filled out a Dollar Valentine for you?”

“Yes?” I was extremely confused.

“Addison. I really don’t care if he filled out a stupid survey for you. Are you going to go on the date?”

“Of course not!”

“Then I don’t give a shit.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s good.” I was still a little hesitant to say anything. “Oh. I should probably mention. I hate Valentine’s Day.”

“Really?” He frowned in confusion.

“Yes. Is that really so hard to believe?”

“Honestly? Yes.”

“Why?”

“You’re a romantic.”

“I know. Which is why I hate Valentine’s Day. It’s the least romantic holiday. If you want to do something nice for me, or get me flowers, show me that you like me, do it on a random day. Not when you have to because it’s a Hallmark holiday.” I was careful not to say the word love. It may have been five months, which is a long time in high school, but we weren’t there yet.

“So, you’re a romantic who hates Valentine’s Day. Okay. Coffee date though?”

“Sure. But not because of what day it is.”

“No. Of course not.” Monty winked at me and then got up to leave. “Come find me after school.” I nodded.

“I’m going to stay here and make Justin sweat a little.”

The next couple of weeks passed slowly. I had forgiven Justin for filling out a Valentine for me a couple of days after he submitted it. After school on the thirteenth, I ran to Walplex to get ingredients for macarons. I browsed the aisles in search of almond flour and raspberry flavouring. Before I left the lot, I texted Monty. Turns out you’re worth it after all. He was busy with practice. I didn’t expect an answer any time soon.

At home, I unloaded my ingredients and put the carton of egg whites in a bowl of lukewarm water to come to room temperature without overheating them. “Hey Siri. Play State Champs on Spotify.”

“Playing State Champs.” I sang along quietly while I went about making my macarons. I said very kind and loving things to the batter aloud. In my head, I was swearing at them with words that would make a sailor blush. He really is worth it.

Dad came home while I was piping the batter onto the Silpat.

“Hi.”

“Hi. What are you doing?”

“Making macarons for my friends.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s Valentine’s Day tomorrow.” I shrugged. Dad scoffed and shook his head. “What?”

“Nothing.” He snapped. My face didn’t react. Inside, I felt the familiar sensation of becoming smaller and my insides closing in on themselves. Just ignore him. It’s okay. You’re okay.

“Okay.” I replied meekly. Instead of responding, he went and shut himself in the office. I sighed softly to myself and started on my macaron filling while the cookie batter sat on the tray.

Once my cookies were baked and cooled after dinner, I began to fill them. I picked a Wilton number 18 tip, a small star, and piped chocolate ganache around a raspberry on half of the cookies. When they were all filled, I topped each one. Then I carefully placed them in a container and grabbed several napkins. I also put five each in two disposable aluminum containers. One for Justin. And one for Montgomery. “They won’t notice if one is missing.” I muttered to myself. I took a bite, and it was perfect. Not hollow. Still had a chew to it. The outside was crisp. The slightly bittersweet filling complemented the sweetness of the cookie Perfect. I moaned softly. Setting the containers in the fridge so they didn’t melt overnight, I went upstairs to take a shower and get ready for bed.

The next morning it was Valentine’s Day. As much as I hated the holiday, I wasn’t opposed to dressing up. I dug around my closet for something to wear. I had a red circle skirt in mind. I just needed to find something to wear with it. “Hey Siri, what’s the weather today?”

“It’s currently cloudy and forty-five degrees. The high is expected to be fifty-two degrees and the low will be forty-five degrees.”

“Thank you.” Only fifty-two. I can wear a sweater. I pulled out a couple. The red cable knit was too match-y. The plain black was too plain. My last option was a black sweater with white hearts. This is nice. Shrugging it on, I pulled on a pair of black tights to cover my legs. Topping off the look with my favourite diamond studs and a simple charm bracelet, I checked the clock. I had time to paint my nails.

Soon, I was ready for school. I redid my nails in a nice nude shade. Knowing I was going on a date today, I went quite neutral on the makeup. I wanted my skirt and top to be the focus of my look. My parents were putting their breakfast away when I went downstairs. “Morning guys.”

“Morning sweetie.” We exchanged pleasantries with each other. “You look lovely Addison.”

“Thanks Mum. May not like today, but it’s an excuse to wear this sweater.”

“Very true.” She kissed my cheek gently, so her lipstick didn’t transfer.

“Why are there three containers in the fridge Addison?” Oh crap. Uh….

“Because one is for Justin, one is for my friends to share, and the other one is for me when my friends inevitably leave me with none.”

“I see.” He didn’t sound convinced. Or interested for that matter. When does he ever sound interested? He called after me as I was leaving. “Remember your mother and I are going out tonight for dinner and date night.”

“I know.” I smiled at him. “You kids have fun. I’ll see you in the morning.” I smiled brighter when he dipped my mom and kissed her. Gross but so cute.

“I love you, Margot.”

“I love you too, Brooks.” My mom replied.

My friends were waiting at my locker when I got there. “Hey guys. What’s going on?”

“Justin said you were bringing macarons to school.” Charlie grinned.

“Ah yes. You’re here for snacks. Of course. Hey Clay.”

“Hey Addy.” I shooed the boys away from my locker so I could put my bag in and take out the large container.

“These are for sharing.”

“We know. We can share.” Bryce nodded. Sure, you can. I rolled my eyes playfully. Then I set about passing each of the plethora of boys gathered around my locker a napkin. And then I gave them one macaron each. Jeff got two so he had one to give to Leah.

“Why does he get two?” Luke complained.

“Because he has a girlfriend. And I like her. Do any of you have girlfriends I like?” My eyes shifted to Monty minutely. He smirked softly and quirked a brow quickly. No one seemed to notice. “No? Then you get one for now. You can have more at lunch.” The bell rang. The boys began to disperse to their respective classes. I grabbed Justin and gave him his container.

“You’re the best.” He grinned and kissed my temple when he pulled me in for a hug.

“So are you. Now go get educated.” I texted Monty as I walked to class. I’ll give you yours after school.

I think I like being worth it. This is delicious. Why don’t you make these all the time?

Make them with me sometime. You’ll see.

On my way to lunch, I stopped to pick up my Dollar Valentine. “Hey Sheri.”

“Addison! Oh my gosh. When I heard you filled out a survey, I almost didn’t believe it.”

“Justin did it.”

“Oh. At least he knows you. I hope you get better matches than I did.”

“We’ll see.” I waited while she printed out my list. I glanced at it when she handed it to me.

Andrew B.

Cody K.

Daniel R.

Justin F.

Bryce W.

“Oh. My. God.” I laughed.

“What?”

“I matched with Justin. And Bryce Walker. How the hell?”

“Well, Justin knows you best. And he did the survey for you.” Sheri shrugged.

“Okay fair. But Bryce?”

“I don’t have an answer there.” We both laughed and I left to go to the cafeteria to join my friends. While I walked, I called Justin.

“Hey Addy, what’s up?”

“Hey Valentine. Have you picked up your matches yet?”

“I’m just looking at them now. I was just about to call you to see who you matched with.”

“Well, I think you’re my best match.”

“No one else up to your standards?” I was behind him now.

“Nope.” He turned and hung up. “But I have very important plans tonight, so I’ll need a rain check.”

“No problem. Your annual Bones marathon?” Sure.

“You know it. Next season is the last one.”

“Since I can’t take you out tonight, at least let me escort you to lunch.” He held his arm out to me. I grasped it dramatically.

“Such a gentleman.” We laughed hysterically.

Montgomery loved the macarons. We met at Monet’s after school to get coffee to go because it was crowded. Thankfully no one questioned us if they saw us. They were too wrapped up in their own dates to be concerned about us. Our date was wonderful. There was no chocolate in heart shaped boxes. There weren’t any overpriced roses. Just the two of us spending time together privately. Since my parents were out for the foreseeable future, he came back to my place. We hung out for a bit until he had to leave to avoid my parents. All in all, it was a pretty good Valentine’s Day. He found it hysterical that Justin and I were matched for Dollar Valentines.

Spring had sprung in Evergreen in mid-March. By the time April rolled around, flowers were in full bloom again and it was getting warmer and warmer. On a particularly nice Saturday, I woke up in an unusually good mood. I looked out the window and it was sunny, not a cloud in the sky. As I was sitting in bed, I looked around my room. My camera caught my eye on my bookshelf. Maybe today is the day I introduce Monty to my camera. I got ready but didn’t get dressed. It was still early for a Saturday. And I knew Monty was a big fan of sleep.

After an hour or so of putzing around in my room, I decided to call him. “Morning Addy.” He answered. His voice was still thick with sleep. I smiled.

“Good morning sunshine.” I heard him shifting in bed.

“You’re chipper this morning.”

“It’s nice out. It’s finally spring.”

“It is.” He smiled.

“I was wondering if you had plans today?” I eyed my camera.

“No, I don’t think so. What did you have in mind Bookworm?”

“I thought I could introduce you to my other hobby Casanova.”

He gasped dramatically. “You mean to tell me you like things other than books?”

“Yes.” I laughed. “What do you say?”

“I’m in. When and where?”

“The park by the docks? Say, one o’clock?”

“Sure thing.”

“Wear something comfortable.”

“Okay. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Okay. Bye.”

“Bye baby.”

My parents were in the office working. It was ten am on a Saturday. But it was getting close to exam time for my mom, so she was busy. Tax season was ending, so dad was busy. I opened my bedroom door and called into the house. “I’m going out later. I don’t know how long I’ll be out.”

“Okay honey. Have fun.”

“That’s nice.” I sighed and closed my door. After a quick shower I got dressed. I knew I would probably be moving around a lot today, so I picked a pair of leggings and a loose black t-shirt from American Eagle. I really should go get one of these in every colour. They’re the best shirts. I threw a random cardigan on my bed. It was later joined by my wallet and camera.

Sitting down to do my hair and makeup, I decided to just do a quick French braid. It kept the hair out of my face. I contemplated my makeup for a while. I still had plenty of time to spare. Pressing play on my Spotify and it picked up on a random Beartooth song. Artist Radios are always interesting. I hummed and tapped along with the music while I dug through my vanity. I didn’t have an excessive amount of makeup. Maybe I had a little too much lipstick, but it’s my favourite type of makeup. I kept everything but my lipstick fairly light and neutral. My skin was actually nice today so I could just use concealer and set it. With the rest of my makeup done, I dug through my slightly embarrassing amount of lipstick. “I’m feeling bold today. Red?” I asked myself in the mirror. “Red.” I nodded. I was ready to go now. I chucked the tube of lipstick in my wallet.

It was close to lunch so I texted Monty. Did you want me to make a couple of sandwiches or something?

Sure. I went downstairs and dug through the cheese drawer.

I have turkey, ham, and some other white meat. Possibly chicken?

Ham is okay.

Cheddar okay?

Yup. I made our sandwiches. I knew how he liked his sandwiches now. Placing them in the fridge, I ran upstairs for my camera, camera bag, and now my purse. Our lunch was set on top of my wallet. I threw an ice pack in to keep everything cold and food safe. A couple of snacks joined in before I grabbed my keys.

“I’m leaving now. I’ll see you later.” I called.

“Okay.” My parents called together.

At the park, I met Monty over by a tree. He was wearing jeans and a plain white t-shirt. No flannel. That took me by surprise. He looked damn good though. I stopped on the way over for a couple of coffees from Starbucks. “Hey Casanova.”

“Hey Bookworm.”

“Lunch now or later?”

“Now is good. I could eat.” I rolled my eyes. “What?”

“You’re always hungry.”

“I’m a growing boy.” He defended.

“If you grow anymore, you’ll give Dempsey a run for his money.”

“Never know. They say boys grow again around nineteen.”

“Oh god. I don’t know if I could handle you getting taller.” He laughed.

“Might have to. Never know.” I looked down to hide my blush. I didn’t read into what he said. He was right. You never knew where you could end up. We talked quietly while we ate. Monty regaled me with stories of the baseball game I “missed” yesterday.

“Sounds like a nail biter.” I smiled.

“You don’t like baseball, do you?”

“No.” I replied quickly.

“That mean you’ll never come to a game?”

“Quite possibly. I will go to as many football games as I can though.”

“Deal. Now. What did you want to show me?”

“This.” I said as a pulled my camera out of the bag.

“Oh?”

“Yes. I told you I like photography.”

“I remember. I’m just surprised it took you this long to show it to me.”

“Good things come to those who wait.”

“Okay. I won’t question you.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not Tyler. I keep my photography to when people know about it and can see it.”

“I kind of figured.” I spent some time showing him my camera. It was the first thing I had spent any big amount of money on. I got it a few years ago. I saved up birthday and Christmas money. I never really got an allowance so that’s what I had to work with. I looked out at the water and stood up. Holding my hand out to my boyfriend, I nodded in the direction of the dock.

“Come on.” Montgomery took my hand and we walked to the railing. I examined the water for a few moments quietly. Then I lifted my camera and started shooting. It was beautiful. “It’s nicer at sunset. But daytime shoots are so fun.” I could feel him watching me. A bird was flying close by, so I snapped a picture. “It’s beautiful.” I said softly.

“Very beautiful.”

We wandered around the park together for a few hours. Occasionally we would stop to sit and just people watch. During one of these stops I noticed Monty had turned to look out over the water. The way the light was hitting his face was perfect. I quickly snapped a photo. I wanted to preserve the peaceful look on his face forever. Lord knows the boy could use some peace. He turned to me when he heard the click of the camera. Luckily it didn’t ruin the shot. He was smiling. I couldn’t help myself. I took a quick scan of the area and kissed him. When we pulled away, he quickly wiped the lipstick off. I laughed and dug around in my purse for a makeup wipe. “Here. Use this.”

“Thanks.” I touched up my lipstick. While I was doing that, he took my camera from my lap and snapped a photo of his own. “I’m not very good at this, so don’t be shocked if it comes out crappy.”

“I’m sure it’s great. Here, let me see.” He handed it back. I scrolled to the photo. It was really nice. “This is great Monty.” He nodded but didn’t say anything. Instead, he threw his arm over my shoulder and pulled me in close to him. I rested my head on his shoulder. Turning the camera around, I snapped a picture of the two of us. It wasn’t exactly a candid, but it was as close as you could get with a selfie. We called it a night around six o’clock. He had to get home for dinner. I had some homework to do. I also wanted to get our photos transferred as soon as possible.

I walked into the house smiling to myself. Today had been a really great day. I felt good. “What the hell is all over your face?” My dad asked. Not a hello. No other acknowledgement.

“What do you mean?” I reached up to touch my face. Is there something on my face?

“You really caked it on today, didn’t you?” Oh. My makeup. I’d forgotten that he didn’t see me before I left.

“I put on a little makeup. I’m trying to use up a red lipstick.” I shrugged. The small feeling had begun to grow again.

“It makes you look like a prostitute.” Wow. That escalated quickly. My good mood vanished. I set my face. I wouldn’t let him see that he had hurt me.

“Thanks Dad. That was my goal today actually.”

“Don’t take that kind of tone with me, young lady.”

“Okay, whatever. Where’s Mum?”

“At the grocery store.”

“Okay. I’ll be upstairs.”

“Take off the paint while you’re up there.” He called after me.

When I reached my room, I closed the door and slid down it. Not wanting him to know I was crying I went to the bathroom and grabbed a towel. I curled up on my bed and sobbed into the towel. I didn’t care that there would be makeup stains on it. My phone buzzed on the floor. Sitting up, I stood to grab it. It was Monty. I want to see those photos baby.

Okay. I’ll send them over when I’m done.

Looking forward to it.

Yeah.

If I forgot to say, you looked pretty today.

Thanks. I wasn’t sure I believed him after what my dad said.

Any other mystery hobbies you want to show me?

Don’t think so.

Not even the art of knitting?

Maybe.

You okay Addy?

Yeah. Just tired.

Okay. I’ll talk to you later then.

Sure. I didn’t answer his next text. It was too much effort to do it now. I just wanted to lay in bed and be sad.

#can't go back #montgomery de la cruz #monty de la cruz #monty x oc #monty imagine #monty x reader #montgomery de la cruz x oc #montgomery de la cruz imagine #montgomery de la cruz x reader #13 reasons why #13rw #13 rw #Thirteen Reasons Why #fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #fanfic writing #creative writing #writeblr

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hale-13 · 3 years

Text

Airway

By Hale13

For the Summer of Whump Day 29 Prompt - Control

The only real drawback of the current iteration of his suit, Peter thought, was its lack of air filtration. With the tools and workshop space that Mr. Stark provided him with Peter was able to make a Spidey suit that was top of the line in every aspect except for the ventilation; for all intents and purposes Peter was really just breathing through high tech spandex. The tightly woven fabric did, minimally, protect him from inhaling smoke and other harmful chemicals but not enough.

Words: 2407, Chapters: 1/1 (complete), Language: English

Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Peter Parker & May Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, May Parker, Bruce Banner

TW: Medical Procedures, Panic

Read on AO3 or below the line break.

Which is what landed him in his current situation of sitting with his mask pulled up to the bridge of his nose and an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth as he took shallow, wheezing breaths.

The apartment fire that he had responded to still had a surprisingly large number of people stuck in hard to reach places that left Peter exposed longer than he would have liked. His throat felt like it was on fire and his lungs felt tight the way they used to feel when he had an asthma attack. The fire fighter that had passed him the oxygen mask earlier crouched down in front of him with a worried look on her ash stained face.

“I still think you should let us take you to the hospital,” she said worriedly as she adjusted the flow of oxygen. Peter shook his head..

“I’m good,” he croaked, trying not to wince at just how destroyed his voice sounded and display as much confidence as he could. She still looked dubious.

“Is there anyone you can stay with tonight?” She pressed. “You shouldn’t be alone just in case.”

“I’’ll be okay,” he promised, removing the oxygen mask and pulling his own down to cover his face. It immediately became harder to breathe and he regretted giving up the clean air but he knew if he didn’t get out of there soon he would have a much bigger problem. “Thanks for the help!” He called as he swung out, his breathing becoming more labored as he webbed away.

His HUD fizzed out for a second before directing to the Tower and Peter rolled his eyes at Karen but obliged. May was working a late shift and Peter did feel pretty shitty. It probably wouldn’t hurt to hang around the Tower with its fully stocked and staffed MedBay for the evening. He had to stop a few times on his way to catch his breath but he made it to the landing pad with few issues.

“You stink,” Tony greeted him as he walked in, pulling his ashy mask off his face and letting it drop on one of the many end tables. “You committing arson now?”

“Ha ha,” Peter said hoarsely with a slight cough as he ventured into the kitchen to Fran a bottle of water to gulp down. Tony narrowed his eyes over his cup of coffee in judgement and concern.

“Karen said they put you on oxygen,” he said accusingly and Peter groaned and dropped his forehead to rest on the cool counter top, taking aborted breaths through his mouth. The smell of smoke still on his suit was making it hard to take deep breaths in.

“Only for a couple minutes,” Peter answered, coughing again and taking another swig of water.

“Go take a shower,” his mentor ordered. “Leave your suit in your room and I’ll send it down to FRI for deep cleaning although at this point it might be worth it to just toss it and start again from scratch.”

“But I just broke it in,” Peter whined, trudging off to the room Tony had set aside for his use. He may be right though – smoke was a notoriously hard stench to get out of fabric.

The hot water felt heavenly on his skin and Peter spent probably too long under the strong spray but, unfortunately, his chest still felt tight and heavy when he got out. He paused in front of the mirror, trying to take deep, even inhales and he squinted his eyes in confusion. He had helped out on a few burning buildings and had never felt this way before. Deciding he probably just needed some rest, Peter left the bathroom and joined Mr. Stark back out in the common room.

He only got about halfway through his soup and an episode of The Office before he passed out, head leaned back against the cushions.

——————————————

The room was lit only by the glow of the projector when Peter woke up unable to breathe.

He gasped and flailed as he woke up, smacking Mr. Stark in the face and causing him to yelp as he tried to inhale through what felt like a straw. “Lights up to fifty,” Mr. Stark barked out and Peter snapped his eyes closed against the blue-toned overhead lights snapping on over him. “Fuck Peter,” his mentor said, scrambling of the couch and scooping Peter up in his arms.

Peter felt dizzy and his vision was spotted with black dots as he was carried to the elevator. He could hear his mentor yelling something but couldn’t comprehend what was being said as he lifted one shaky hand up to clutch at his, now swollen, neck and he could feel panic bubbling up in him.

‘Don’t black out,’ he told himself as he tried to calm down and even out his breathing. ‘It’s fine. You’re fine.’

“Bruce!” Tony shouted as he deposited Peter on, what must have been, a bed in one of the exam rooms in the Tower MedBay. “He can’t breathe!”

An oxygen mask was shoved over Peter’s face but it did little to help him but he gripped it with a weak hand anyway, gasping into it and squinting his eye open. “Hey Peter,” Dr. Banner said in his usual calm voice, raising the bed up so Peter was sitting and grabbing a light and a tongue depressor. “I need you to open your mouth for me.”

Peter shakily nodded and dropped the mask to open his mouth, gagging on the tongue depressor and swaying a little at the loss of the little oxygen he was getting. Bruce swore and placed the mask back over Peter’s face, pressing a blue button on the wall and lowering Peter back to lie flat. “His airway is closing!”

“What!” Tony said, panicked and grabbing Peter’s hand to squeeze as the room burst to life with medical professionals. A nurse grabbed him and bodily pulled him from the room as he yelled for answers. Peter could feel his own panic bubbling up in his gut but he also felt like he may pass out and didn’t have the energy to explore it.

“Peter,” Bruce said firmly and calmly from directly above him as a nurse cut off his shirt and another placed an IV catheter in his arm. “Your throat is full of soot from the fire earlier and is causing your trachea to swell and close. We’re going to knock you out so we can place an endotracheal tube to help you breathe. It’s going to be jarring when you wake up later but it will be okay. I need you to trust me.”

Peter could feel tears welling up in his eyes and spilling over his face from the stress and effort but didn’t get a chance to respond before his muscles relaxed like wet clay and his vision spun into darkness.

——————————————

“I’m on my way,” May Parker’s wet voice said through the phone as Tony paced up and down the hallway outside the room where the medical staff was working with Peter. “God Tony fuck!” She said, sounding out of breath as if she were running.

“Happy’s on his way to get you,” Tony promised her, trying to control his own racing heart and tensed nerves. “He’ll be there in ten minutes and he’ll get you back much faster than the bus. I’ve got him May. I promise I’ve got him.”

May let out a sob into the phone and Tony felt his heart clench. “If anything happens to him,” she said and Tony nodded. He knew. He understood.

“Just focus on getting here safely,” he told her as he stopped to stare at Peter’s door. “I’ll let you know when I hear something.”

“The very second you find anything out,” she told him firmly before hanging up the phone. Tony rubbed a hand over his face and dropped into one of the chairs that were spaced throughout the hall, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and closing his eyes.

Waking up to Peter panicking, pale and with blue lips was probably going to be in the top five worst experiences of his life and would definitely haunt his nightmares for weeks to come. Bruce hadn’t told him anything before ordering him removed from the room and his imagination was, most likely, worse than anything that was happening to Peter but he didn’t do well not knowing what was going on.

“Update FRI?” He asked his AI hopefully, tapping on the comm link he kept in his ear basically all of his waking hours.

“Sorry boss,” she said remorsefully. “Mr. Parker’s condition is classified.”

Tony’s stomach knotted further and he stood back up to pace again, unable to sit down and needing to work out his restless energy as he waited for an update on the kid. About fifteen minutes of nail biting later, Bruce slipped out of the room and gestured to Tony to sit back down.

“He’ll be okay,” he started out, making Tony sag in dizzying relief. His throat was filled with soot from the fire earlier and it caused his trachea to swell closed. We knocked him out to place an endotracheal tube until the swelling went down but it was already to severe so we had to perform a cricthyrotomy to establish a viable airway instead.”

Tony felt the blood drain from his face and he felt a little faint. “Talk to me like I’m an idiot Bruce,” he said, desperate and hoping it wasn’t what he thought it was. “I need you to lay it out for me.”

Bruce looked worried and reached out a hand to grab Tony’s wrist to take his pulse. “I need you to calm down,” Bruce said firmly. “Yes, this is scary but Peter is fine. With his healing abilities he’s going to make a full recovery and he’ll probably be back on his feet in just a couple days alright? Peter is out of danger but it isn’t going to help his recovery if you have a heart attack okay?”

Tony nodded, making a concentrated effort to do his four-seven-eight breathing and calm down. It took a couple minutes but Bruce was patient. “Better?” He asked and Tony nodded, gesturing with his hand for the other scientist to continue. “We had to make a small incision in Peter’s neck and trachea and insert an endotracheal tube through that incision since his upper airway was too swollen to allow it to pass. He is able to breath on his own with this in but we have him on supplemental oxygen just to support him. He is on a ventilator just to give his lungs a chance to recover but he can breathe on his own – its just supplemental alright? We’ve started epinephrine and steroid therapy to reduce the swelling and we’ll probably be able to remove the tube in twenty-four to thirty-six hours.”

“He’s okay though?” Tony asked a little desperately. “He’s fine?”

“Yes Tony,” Bruce told him with an indulgent smile. “He’s okay and he’ll make a full recovery.”

“Can I see him?” He asked, staring at the closed door.

“In a few minutes,” Bruce promised. “The nurses and respiratory therapists are getting him settled but then you can go in. Do you want to call his aunt and I can update her in the meantime?”

“Yeah,” Tony agreed, passing his phone over to Bruce and feeling his muscles unclench just the smallest amount.

The kid was okay.

———————————————

Peter woke to the clicking and popping of artificial air and immediately panicked at he felt his chest rise and fall against his volition and he grasped at the loose gown resting over him before a gentle hand took his and pulled it away. “Hey kiddo its alright, you’re okay. You can breathe the machine is just helping a little.”

Peter cracked his eyes open and made eye contact with his mentor who was seated beside him. May was loosely gripping his hand on the other side, her head resting next to his arm on the bed and soft puffs of air hitting his skin as she slept. The machine clicked again and it took everything in Peter not to fight it. Tony ran his fingers over his knuckles in a soothing gesture.

“We’re going to have to work on your suit,” the man said with a little smile. “It’s getting a full respirator and oxygen tank. It’s going to be a challenge since its so sleek but I think, between the two of us, we can figure it out.” Peter let his brows furrow in confusion and Tony sighed. “Your throat closed up because of the smoke,” he said. “You’re going to be fine though.”

The ventilator clicked again and Peter squeezed his eyes shut and tried to keep calm. He had never done well with loss of control and he could feel his Spidey sense making his hairs raise and his adrenaline spike. He wanted to panic but the artificial breaths wouldn’t let him and it just made it so much worse.

“Hey hey,” Tony said soothingly, rubbing his free hand through Peter’s hair in a calming gesture. “It’s alright.” He gave Peter a considering look then hesitantly offered: “Want me to have them put you out?”

A thrill of relief shot though Peter and he squeezed his mentor’s hand in desperation as he pressed the call button. Peter couldn’t see the nurse but he heard Tony ask for the sedation like he was underwater, not calming until he could feel the cool rush of drugs in his veins.

“I’ve got you buddy,” the man said, a thumb rubbing over Peter’s cheekbone once before settling back in his hair. “You just check out for a while.”

The darkness was welcoming as Peter fell into it; feeling safe with his aunt and mentor watching over him.

#summerofwhump #summerofwhump29 #Prompt: Control #irondad #spider man #Summer of Whump 2021

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florencwrites · 3 years

Text

ever since phoenix 〚dreamwastaken〛

in which clay has earned himself the name dreamboat, short; dream. a mcyt spin on macgyver where reader deals with remnants of trauma.

(!) blood, mentions of emotional trauma, kidnapping (!)

"Soooo," Jack trailed cautiously. He was not a man of deliberation per se, however, he knew when a certain level of carefulness was needed. This was one of those times. "How are you and the missus?"

"Fine." Brief and effective. That's Clay for you. "Now is not exactly the time for relationship advice, Jack."

"So you agree, you need relationship advice." He scanned the room again, gun tight in his grip; leading his gaze. "Boxed yourself there, pal."

"Let's talk about this after I've disarmed this, alright?" A huff of annoyance from the crouching blonde, his face a mere few inches from the ticking device. A device that normally would've taken him barely a minute to take apart, but with his good friend hanging from his lips; it took a little longer than expected.

Jack, in response, cleared his throat loudly, raising his eyebrows in mock warning. "I'm just saying, something's not right and maybe genius over here needs some help." He rolled out the tension in his shoulders, his gun still pointed at the entrance. He shot his eyes back to his friends after his lack of reply, only to see him dropping the now useless device. "I don't need your help, we're doing fine."

Clay rose to his feet, dusting off his pants before pushing past Jack to head for the reinforced door. Of course, being the armed one of the two, Jack pushed himself back in front of him, clearing the hallways before continuing their journey through the complex. Their backs pressed against the rough concrete, bullet holes still decorating them almost entirely. Reaching a junction, Jack lowered himself slightly before peeking his head around the corner. "Clear."

The pair moved onto the next hallway, Clay mirroring his companion's steps almost entirely. "Come on, Dreamboat, just admit there's some things that little brain of yours just can't wrap itself around."

"There are many things my brain can't comprehend, love isn't one of them." He rolled his eyes, knowing fully well that Jack had his back turned to him anyways. "It's just chemistry, simple."

"You're wrong, I'm telling you." A sing-songy tone to his words, Jack taunted the blonde some more. "Chemistry's just the first step, my friend. After that, it's all up to you."

"We've got company."

"Fine, do your thing. We're talking about this later." A promise, one made while firing several rounds of bullets into enemy lines.

"You might be the dumbest genius I've ever met." Sheer annoyance laced the older man's tone, immediately tracing his words with a swirling sip of lukewarm beer. The other side of the dialogue, too, showed serious signs of irritation. A drawn-out groan while throwing his head back, Clay replied, "Fine, I'll bite. Why?"

"Well, where's the lady of the house?" He threw out the bait. However, Jack had neither been a man of patience, so as Clay opened his mouth to answer his rhetorical question, Jack already intercepted him, "Bet she's real tired, huh?"

"Yeah, how'd you- Nevermind." He glanced over the look on his friend's face, soon realizing he bit right into his hook.

A sigh, a genuine one. Reaching forward to lean his elbows onto his knees, staring into the flames of the firepit they had grown so used to. "So, what does she sleep in?"

"Dude! Gross, I'm not answering that."

"Bet it's that beige shirt of yours, right? The one with the big red letters." He never once averted his gaze to meet Clay's, keeping them entirely trained on the fire. Clay furrowed his eyebrows, his emerald eyes slowly making their way to the bottom left corner of his vision, a tell he often showed when deliberating his next move. He then, too, leaned forward to rest on his knees. Once again, mirroring Jack's motions. "It- it is."

"Please just tell me what's going on, Jack." And at last, his normally monotone features showed a glint of desperation.

"It's the last shirt you wore." Another swig of beer landed itself in his mouth, quickly swallowing before continuing, "You wanna know why she's always so tired when you see her?"

"I'll give you a hint, it's not Lyme's." Finally, a light chuckle from his side, followed by a faint hum in affirmation. "She doesn't sleep when you're gone, dude."

Finally, the pair met eyes. A saddened shimmer in both their glances, Jack continued, "All the signs are there."

A nearly audible click in the genius blonde's head. "She's been having nightmares."

"She's been having nightmares." Jack affirmed for him once again, "Trust me, I know what they look like."

They shared a pause of breath, allowing themselves to take a deep breath simultaneously. How could he have been so stupid, of course, she was having nightmares. All the things she went through back in April, all those questions he was forced to leave unanswered. The exhaustion radiating from her pale skin, for weeks now. Jack was right, she had been sleeping in his shirts constantly, sometimes even once he was sure he had put in the laundry basket just hours before. "God, I should have known."

"There's nothing you could've done, Dream." Another sweet reassurance, one that didn't mean a whole lot to him right now.

"I could've known- I should've known." He abruptly pushed himself from his seat, leaving his emptied bottle by the pit. "She doesn't feel safe here."

"I don't think that's it, mate, I think she just feels unsafe anywhere." He followed his friend's face to where it was now stood next to him on the patio, peering up to try and meet his eyes. "Anywhere that's not with you, probably."

"She doesn't deserve any of this." Pacing slowly between the pit and the wall a few feet from him, the man was wrecking himself with guilt, already. Quickly, Jack intervened, noticing his friend's 'spiraling look' from miles away. "Hey! Hey, hey. No one deserves this alright?"

"She should've never been there.." Running a hair through his locks, Clay sat back down by the fire. His head now covered by his hands, leaning forward to hide his features entirely in guilt and perhaps shame, too.

"That," A gentle pat landed itself on his back by Jack as he used his other hand to finish off his beer. "That, I agree with you, pal."

Sheer terror painted her face that day, bound and gagged in some concrete box. In the movies, they always say how it was 'cold and eerie', and however ghostly the situation might have been, there was no cold in this room. Not a single cooling breeze, just pure and unfiltered heat. The concrete was entirely warmed up, too, the only thing that refreshed her even in the slightest was the chilling nature of her shackles, the ones that restrained her to the sticky leather chair she was stuck in.

She assumed it was leather, she had no real way of knowing. Her vision had been blocked by some kind of rag, a different texture to the one that was balled up in her mouth. The duct tape used to secure it in place was pulling at her skin, uncomfortably so.

So, with her hands bound, vision blocked and mouth gagged, there were but two senses left to her. Three, if you include the dooming shadow of possible death that loomed in her head. She'd do anything to just hear his voice right now, he'd know what to do.

Instead of his voice, there was a soft ticking in the room. More specifically, on her abdomen. A scorching hot box was tightened to her abdomen, burning the feeling of its ticking into her mind. She was sure there'd been no way this thing was actually that hot, but the idea of it being stuck to her, it killing her, was enough to leave scars on her stomach.

The other sense that was left unaltered, was her nose. Her sense of smell. Iron, mold, sweat. The last two were logical. She'd been locked in there for hours, in the absolute heat of southern America, there was no way she wasn't sweating up a storm. Mold, she was probably in a basement somewhere, her feet had given away the concrete flooring. But iron, iron wasn't something you usually smelt. Rust, maybe. But this was metallic, and it wasn't from her shackles. If it were, she'd have smelt it was before now.

The screeching of a metal pipe on the concrete walls shook her, the gag keeping her from letting out a loud squeal. Someone was in here with her, for the first time in hours, someone was in here with her. A few faint tuts, heavy footsteps carrying themselves around her perimeter.

A sharp blade running itself along her cheek, barely not breaking skin. "Tik, tok, tik, tok, tik tok."

She scrunched her eyes even tighter as a hand dropped onto her head. The single thing that brought her comfort right now was the fact that there was no way this lunatic would detonate the bomb on her abdomen while in the room with her. "Wonder what's taking him so long, aren't you?"

He stopped talking, his steps carrying him back to wherever he came from. However, his taunting continued in her head for the coming hours she was left to fend for her own. Tik, tok, tik, tok, tik tok.

What's taking him so long?

She struggled immensely against her restraints, abruptly having been awoken by cold hands on her sides. The man's hands hadn't ever been this cold before, they were horribly sweaty and warm, almost to a sticky extent. "Shhhh."

Familiarity washed over her body, her muscles almost instantly untightening at the sound of him. "You have to stay still for me, okay? I have to get this thing off you first."

"Dream, unblind the poor girl first, will ya?" Jack's mellow voice called out from a few feet beside her. The rag was gently pulled from eyes. His assuring tone filled her ears, his comforting face inches from hers. God, she'd never been this happy to see Jack. "There she is."

She tried desperately to get some words out, however, her mouth was still filled with cloth, and while hesitant, she knew there was probably a good reason they hadn't taken it off yet. "Water! Water, get her some water, she's gonna need it." Jack was quick to order one of the agents to get her something to drink, knowing the feeling very well, having been kidnapped a dozen times back in his day.

"It's connected to another device," Clay exclaimed from before her, his hands very carefully working around the wires connecting her to this bomb. For some reason, it had been scarier in her mind, when she hadn't been able to see it. Now, seeing it rest on her stomach didn't scare her nearly as much as the menacing ticking that had haunted her for so long. "Riley, do we know who's behind this?"

A faint hum from the wire in his ear, she couldn't decipher it. Meanwhile, Jack was rattling her shackles, trying to at least free her hands. However, according to her boyfriend, not a very good idea, "Don't!"

"What? You scared she'll strangle you?" A mocking choice of words from her dear friend, almost allowing her to chuckle. The drought in her throat, however, still wouldn't allow her to make a single peep. "No, Jack, taking off the chains would detonate this entire thing, like the gag."

Jack formed an 'o' with his mouth, shooting his eyes around the room in slight embarrassment, "Where's that water the lady ordered?"

For some reason, the minutes after they had found her felt impossibly longer than the hours she had spent alone. Nevertheless, after 24 minutes exactly, there was a breakthrough. His voice soft, gentle, Clay carefully removed his fingers from the device while simultaneously asking for Jack to put his back on."Okay, try again."

A loud snap and several clangs later, her hands were freed, eyes crunched in expectancy of death, it didn't seem to come. Hastily, she clawed at her mouth, only now realizing the rag had been encased in metal bars and colored wires. Dream carefully lifted the contraption from her face, immediately letting her fall into his arms sobbing.

And so, he let her cry. Bawl her eyes out, drown out the sheer terror she must've felt during these hours he had lost her. He ran his arms around her back, pulling her impossibly tight into his own torso. "You're okay, you're okay."

"I've got you, I've always got you."

The night following his conversation with Jack was the first night Clay had seen her cry since that day.

She sobbed into his arms as he assured her that she would always be safe, no matter where he was or what happened between them. He would always keep her safe.

The nightmares disappeared when she was with him because there had never been a doubt in her mind that she was safe when she was with him. She slept incomparably well the first days after every mission, because even if he wasn't in the bed next to her; she knew he was there. She slept well, because the smell of his shirt encased her every sense, rendering it impossible for her to not feel safe, with his cologne evident lingering through her sheets.

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scottfuckingreed · 4 years

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So wrong, It’s right - Montgomery De La Cruz

NOT REQUESTED

Warnings!: smutty and cute (exactly how I imagine Monty actually)

Can you admire something you’re a little afraid of? Is that possible or does that just contradict the entire point? Being the twin sister of Scott Reed means you’re in the jock group a lot. I’m around people like Bryce Walker and Montgomery De La Cruz all the time. I’m afraid of the power boys - men - like that have. And yet, I’m totally struck by them. Doodling around my notepad, I fade back into the classroom scene. Mrs Bradley goes on about how we need to be there for each other, and how to tell if our ‘friends’ are actually not okay even if they say they are. It’s pointless really, because it’s clear no one cares. It’s unfortunate. “Are you taking notes?” A whisper falls into my ear. I turn around to see an ‘innocent’ smile form on Monty’s face. “Why would I be taking notes?” I whisper back with a slight laugh. I’m not sure if some of these boys think playing dumb is cute, or they’re actually just stupid; probably both. “You just look like you’re taking notes,” he shrugs defensively and turns back to his area. I continue squiggling on my page until I feel a breath on my neck. My hairs stand instantly in an unknown way, sending shivers down my spine and a strange feeling in my stomach. “So what are you doing?” He whispers again. Rolling my eyes, I turn to him once again. “I’m decorating my page.” “You’re decorating your- what? Thats fucking stupid.” Sometimes I don’t get Monty’s responses. I know Monty is like that all the time. Rude? But why? The other’s are like it too. I just don’t know who’s genuinely a prick most of the time.

I wander over to Zach, who’s sat with Alex and he’s sat with Clay and those people. I don’t actually have a massive problem with Clay. I think he’s sweet. “Hey!” I smile when I get there. The response from Clay is a slight frown. Jess’ is a VERY small smile. Barely noticeable. “What do you want?” Clay mutters just loud enough for me to hear. “Clay-“ Jess laughs awkwardly. All I can do is smile. I get it. “Okay, I deserve that I guess.” I may have been involved in some ‘teasing’ back in the day when it comes to Clay. But that’s in the past. “I was just seeing if you were coming, Zach?” I shuffle my books that lay in my arms. “Nah I don’t think so, but you can join us if you want,” I love Zach. He’s a bit of an idiot a lot of the time, but his heart’s in the right place. Clay snaps his head very quickly at those words. “I don’t think I’m wanted here, but thanks anyway. I’ll see you guys around.” Walking away, I see Monty waiting for me. “Zachy staying with the pussies?” I roll my eyes and hit him on the arm. “Shut up, that’s not cute.” He chuckles and we walk to lunch.

We meet up with Scott, Charlie, Bryce and Marcus. “Where’s Zach?” Is the first thing Bryce, or anyone, says as we approach. “He’s with Clay and the other dipshits,” Monty laughs and sounds all cool and stuff. All I can do is roll my eyes. What do guys like Monty get from being nasty a lot of the time? “I think Y/N’s been flirting with me,” he adds, throwing his arm around my shoulder and pulling me in close. I imagine he thinks I like being this close to him. I grab his finger and drop his arm away. “Your ego is fucking massive,” I grunt with a smile. I take my water bottle out of my bag. “Almost as big as my dick,” I almost spit my water back out. Bad timing to take a drink. I get a poke on my shoulder, and that’s what does it for Scott. “Please don’t flirt with my sister in front of me!” He pushes Monty playfully on the shoulders. When I see Monty’s eyebrows raise, I know there’s something going on in his head. And his brain like never works. “Oh okay, I’ll just flirt with her when you’re not around then!” And a play fight erupts between all of them. “Alright kids!” Bryce pushes his foot against Monty, which makes both boys tumble to the ground. I swear the boys at the school are children.

Most of the guy’s had last period free - so they’d already gone home - leaving me to get home on my own. I finally leave the hell hole and bump into Monty. “Montgomery!” I smile, nudging my elbow into him. “Y/N, what do you want?” He chuckles. It sounds awkward or nervous, but that’s not Monty. Like, at all. “I was thinking... you could give me a lift home?” I smile innocently. He begins to walk, which his steps are bigger than mine, so I slightly jog to catch up. “Why would I do that?” His eyes scan me up and down. “Because you love me?” I stick my bottom lip out. The smile on his face only grows. He pretty much shakes his head until we reach his beautiful Jeep. I’m actually in love with his car. He doesnt reply. Instead he just stared at me with that grin. “Because I’m really fun to be around?” I ask again. Same response; he shakes his head. “Because I’m annoying and it’ll shut me up?” He raises his eyebrows. “Okay,” he says simply. All I can do is smile when I get into his car. “You’re so chirpy,” he laughs and starts the engine. “I know you love me,” once again, he shakes his head. “You wish.”

“Do you like what you see?” He smirks at me. I roll my eyes in a rush. “I’m not even looking at you,” I smile and turn my head out the window. I’ve actually watched every tap his fingers did against the steering wheel. I’d seen him nod along to whatever shit was on the radio. Not staring, but in the corner of my eye. Which I think is possibly worse. “I know you are, but it’s okay,” my eyes look back towards him. “I’m gonna have to tell Scotty that his little sister’s checking his best friend out,” I shake my head with a laugh. “We’re literally twins,” is all I can argue.

Monty turns in to the driveway to my house. “Thanks for that, Cruz-y,” he smiles very slightly at my words. Like, VERY slightly. “I guess it’s okay, but you definitely owe me,” I smile back at him and nod. “Of course, you can’t do anything to just ‘be nice’ can you?” I joke, chuckling as I open the door and hop out of his car. “Wait, Y/N,” he shouts out the open window. I watch as the boy gets out his car with something in his hand. “You almost left your phone,” he drops it in my hand. I tap it on his shoulder, and I automatically feel guilty for some reason. I haven’t done anything wrong, or anything I wouldn’t usually do. But I feel guilty. “Did you just, do something nice? For me?!” I drop my jaw with a gleaming smile. “I’m just a nice person,” he shrugs. “Well, I appreciate it,” I feel like I stand waiting for something that’s never gonna happen. I gazed towards the boy for what seems like ages. There was nothing to wait for. It was just awkward blank air. To break the silence, I turn and walk into my house. I’m not sure what else I was meant to do. I run up the stairs, excited to be home, and get out of my ‘nice’ clothes. Sweats and a bralette. It’s time to relax.

I set myself up. Pencils, my sketch pad, and myself laid on my stomach on my bed. Music on. Sometimes I draw from a picture, sometimes from my head, but most of the time it’s just doodles. Today it’s from my head. Just head with eyes and a face and everything. And time flies when you’re invested in something. “Wow,” is all I hear. I jump too much, shooting my head upwards and seeing Montgomery looking over at my book. “Holy shit!” My hand immediately goes over my pounding chest. That was not okay! “You could’ve knocked!” I shout, sitting myself up. “I did, you were just concentrating,” he shrugs and starts looking around my room. He picks up an ornament. I stand up, walking over to him and taking it off of him. It’s only when I get up that I remember what I’m wearing. I feel exposed. His eyes look my body up and down. And suddenly he’s in a rush. “Anyway, I just came to scare you,” and he leaves. Strange.

- A few days later -

A tight black dress. It fits like a glove around my hips, hugging my thighs nicely. This is an outfit that makes me feel like a bad bitch. “I know you’ve worn that dress just to piss me off,” Scott shakes his head as we drive to Bryce’s. Another stupid house party. Although I hate them, I find myself going to every one; enjoying myself too. “I don’t do it to piss you off Scott,” I laugh. He raises his eyebrows immediately. “I know exactly who you dress like that for,” which makes me heat up. Luckily my foundation hides the redness in my cheeks. I don’t even glance his way. I can’t. “Why is everything always about Monty?” It stresses me out that everything is about that boy. “Can’t I just dress up for myself?” I add, rather snappily. Here we are. Bryce pretty much has a car park in front of his fucking house. He might as well have ‘I’m a rich prick’ tattooed on his forehead. “You can, Y/N,” and he gets out the car. You can hear everything from inside the car, let alone walking towards the party itself. Pretty sure I felt the vibrations from the street over. “But did I mention Monty?” Our eyes lock. I swear he said his name? Shit.

Shit music, a load of half naked girls, and too many Varsity jackets? We must be at a Bryce Walker party. I don’t know half of these people here. But I do know Zach! I can’t rush over to him at the drinks table fast enough. “Hey!” I smile. “Y/N, dragged along again?” He asked, handing me a cup. The burning stench of whatever-the-fuck shoots through my nose with just one small sniff. “Jesus Christ, what’s in this?” An adorable smile spreads across his face. He’s so pure I swear. “It’s actually a shorter list if you ask what’s not in it,” he shrugs. I raise my eyebrows, wondering if the boy is smart enough to flirt with me. I leave it at silence, bringing the cup up to my lips. “Everything,” I look back his way. He leans himself down and gets close to my ear. The warmth of his breath does nothing to my body. “I put everything in it. Enjoy!” Is what he finishes with before walking away dancing.

I find myself dancing with everybody and nobody. The fun thing about a party is you don’t need to know anybody. Especially if there’s a lot of people, and you’re drunk. And since there’s everything in my cup, it’s safe to say that I’m a little gone after half of it. “Ah!” I shout and point, seeing a familiar boy across the room. “Where have you been?!” I shout ask. I think I ran over to him. Whatever I did, it happened very quickly. “Around,” he shrugs. And I giggle. What was funny, you ask? Absolutely nothing. But I’m tipsy and a little horny. “Are you drunk?” He laughs, taking my cup and sniffing it. His eyebrows raise, before he even takes a sip, let alone after. “It’s a Zachy special-” “Where’s your brother?” I hardly finish my sentence before he starts shouting his words over the loud music. “I don’t know,” my slightly drunken state is offended by his question. Maybe I’m just annoyed at myself, maybe it’s the fact that everything is about my brother, but it’s more than likely the fact that I wanna be flirted with. And he’s definitely not flirting with me. Rolling my eyes, I just turn and walk as far away as I can before stumbling and embarrassing myself completely. Completely into the arms of Montgomery De La Cruz. “Careful,” the slight giggle shocks me. It was..? Cute..? “Maybe you should sit down for a while,” I realise that I’m still in his arms, which is definitely the last place I should be, so I stand up ‘straight’. As straight and as still as I can be anyway. “It’s okay, I wanna dance!” Smiling massively towards him, I’m shocked when he actually reciprocates the happy look. He never smiles back at me. It must be pity. “You can dance sat down, I’ll come with you.”

I didn’t think I’d be spending a part of my night looking at the stars with Monty, but here we are. Well I’m sat on a sun bed, and he’s stood. The fresh air does a mix of sending the alcohol to my head, and sobering me up a little. Which makes no sense; I know. I’m just drunk. “Fuck, did I drop my drink?” Confusion hits me like a brick. So much so that I start patting my hips at the pockets I don’t have. Which also makes no fucking sense. “I took it off you- why would the cup be in your pocket?” He laughs, taking a seat on the concrete next to my lounger. “That’s cute,” as soon as the words fall out, my hand covers my mouth. “Shit, I won’t hear the end of that. Will I?” His lips press together, shaking his head slowly. “At least you’be admitted you find me cute,” I don’t even have the effort to argue. So I lay myself down.

Before I open my eyes, my head starts pounding. Unfortunately I remember quite a bit, if not all of last night. It’s effort to wake up. So I lay on my back. In a 3, 2, 1, I open my eyes to a ceiling. I might still be drunk, or my eyes aren’t working properly, but that ceiling doesn’t look like mine. “You’re awake!” A voice startles me. There stand Montgomery De La Cruz with water and a pill of some kind. “Fuck, this doesn’t look-” “I slept on the sofa,” and my heart, unfortunately, skips a beat. I lay a glance over to the chair. It’s small. “It’s comfier than it looks,” he shrugs, edging the items towards me. I don’t even know what to say. It’s... sweet? “This could literally be anything,” I squint my eyes at the drug with as much enthusiasm as I can in this state. “Don’t you trust me?” I press my lips together and screw my face up. “I do, unfortunately,” I shrug, and take the painkiller. “Good, lets get some food,” he nods his head towards the door. In my state? No. But I couldn’t turn down his offer.

“I’m curious Monty,” we walk where we can see the beach. Not on the sand, but the path very close. I’m not sure if he’s following me, or I’m following him. “Go on,” he smile, putting a chip in his mouth. Seaside chips are the best. To be honest, everything tastes better at the beach. “How did I end up in your bed?” I smile at my question. My cheeks blush slightly at the question. I must be broken. “Well you just passed out really, so I thought it was the right thing to do,” he shrugs in a very cute way? “Where’d Scott go?” As flattered as I am, Scott should’ve been there. I’m his twin sister. “He got with some slut-” I raise my eyebrows. “Sorry, he got with a blonde girl in a red skirt.” He shivers. A chuckle exits my mouth. “What’s that about?” A smile goes across his face, looking down. I’ve noticed every move he’s made since this ‘morning’. “Red’s such a slutty colour,” he says slowly. Is he weary of my reaction? “Tell me about it!” Only a moment of silence goes by. “Well, thank you,” His eyes lock with mine. “I respect that you didn’t try it on with me, because I definitely would’ve just let it happen,” without debate. Without thinking, he speaks. “I wouldn’t want it to happen like that,” my heart skips a beat. I see the instant regret in his face, but I can’t help but feel warmed by those words. Even so, he doesn’t correct himself.

I spend the rest of my day pacing my bedroom floor. Seeing as I woke up like midday, it’s not actually too long. It felt like it. An hour felt like 3. A knock goes on my door. Although I’m not doing anything, I felt suspicious. So I rush onto my bed and start reading a page of the book closest to me. ‘Twilight’. A classic. “Come in!” I shout. I expected it to be my mum, but it’s Scott. Guilt. Why? I don’t know. I didn’t do anything wrong. Even so, there’s still a feeling of guilt in my body. And it’s heavy. “You never knock,” I laugh nervously. “I wanted to apologise for leaving you at the party. That was a shitty brother move,” he shrugs. As much as I appreciate it, it feels weird. Does he know? I let a moment of silence go by before answering. “It’s fine, at least nothing happened,” looking back at my home screen, I hope that Scott leaves. Of course he doesn’t. He hasn’t asked the vital question. “So... where’d you crash?” Now... I could lie. I feel like I could lie easily too. Only if it’s not a trick question. What if Monty’s already told Scott? Then it’ll look like I’m covering something up. Am I? Nah. “Monty took me to his, but I swear nothing happened,” I almost rush out. Scott’s facial expression doesn’t really change, other than look slightly relieved. “Don’t worry, I trust you,” there’s a pause. “So did you, like, share a bed?” Which makes me smile massively. Only my brother would ask such an awkward question. “He actually gave me his bed, and I think he slept on a chair.” Scott looks surprised. “That chair in his bedroom?” He asks. I nod slowly. “Hmm,” and he leaves.

I spend the rest of my day rewatching Teen Wolf. Let’s not lie, it’s one of the best shows out there! So here I am, crying at how beautiful Stiles is, and my phone starts to ring. Heart: drops. It’s only Monty. For some reason I’m nervous to talk to him. So I hesitate answering the phone. Just do it Y/N! “Hey,” I clear my throat lightly. For context, Monty never calls me. Why would he? We’ve texted on and off about stupid shit. Like ‘is Scott with you’ and ‘can I copy your work’. That’s it. “Y/N, how are you?” His voice echos softly through my ear. “I’m alright, what’s up?” My hair twiddles around my forefinger. “What are you doing right now?” Other than crying at a stupid Netflix show? Other than getting nervous about you calling me? “Nothing, I think Scott’s-” “I didn’t call you to ask where Scott is,” he chuckles *cutely*. His tone made it sound like that was a strange thing to say. Like I said, he’s never really called me before. Not to actually speak to me. “So, what’s up?” I ask again. My body doesn’t seem to know what to do. I go from sitting down, to laying on my back, to my front, to pacing the floor. All over the place. “I was- uh- wondering if you could sneak out?” He whispers mischievously. Eyebrows: raised. I gasp through the phone with a smile. Tutting at him, I lose the capability to speak for a second. I clear my throat again. “Monty-” “Just for a walk.”

Walking to meet Monty was insane. I don’t even know my intentions, let alone his. But somehow it makes sense. The sky is dark, the air blows cold. My joggers keep my legs cosy. My arms, however, were unprepared. I’m not cold though. I’m nervous. The uncertainty of this whole thing is driving me insane. The craziness is eating at me. And yet I don’t know if I wanna face Monty. But I am. He’s ahead of me. My stomach just can’t keep still. Even with him standing right in front of me. Whatever happens, will happen. “I thought you were gonna stand me up, Y/N,” his smile screams nerves, which made me more nervous. A guy like Monty should never be nervous. “I was hesitant to come,” he nods slowly. “But I’m here.”

The chat was just about stupid shit, funny times, and thick with ‘beating around the bush’. I should be paying attention to where we were going. The absolutely insane thing is I trust Monty. I probably always have done. Through the teasing, and the being Scott’s twin sister, I’ve always felt somewhat comfortable. He’d even given me just hoodie to wear. I’m not sure if it’s something to read into, or it’s simply a kind gesture. “Monty... why did we just walk around for like 30 minutes just to get back to my house?” I can’t hold it back anymore. I need to know why I’m here. “Why am I walking the streets with you half 10 at night?” He avoids my eye contact. I realise that he doesn’t plan on answering me right now. I stop in my place, grabbing his hand. His skin soft and warm. I wish he wasn’t so damn hard to read. “Maybe I just wanted to hang out with you?” Shaking my head, I smile at the ground before locking eyes with him again. This time his eyes stay on mine. Neither of us move. “I’m confused,” a smile spreads across his face. “I’ve been confused for a while,” my eyebrows lift in curiosity. A while? Is he confused about the same shit I am? “Explain it to me.” And he just starts walking away from me.

“Monty!” I slightly jog up to him. It’s wrong of me, but I just wanted everything out on the line. I wanted it written in black and white. “It’s hard to explain the fact that I’m pretty much in love with my best friend’s sister,” my heart drops, yet it’s full at the same time. Jaw; dropped. “I- what?” My hands cover my gradually growing smile. His face stays neutral. This whole thing is just insane. “I’m sorry, but I am obsessed with everything you stand for,” and that does it. I know there is an unwritten rule about your brother’s best friend. This makes me entirely shitty. It’s nothing I ever imagined. The silence on my end makes Monty start to walk away. “You know what!” Once again I grab Monty. “Fuck it,” this time reaching for the back of his neck and pulling him close. Our lips magnetise together. Ive never felt such passion and respect from a person. The unbelievable feeling of his fingers crawling to my waist was something I realise I’ve been missing. It’s just one long kiss, and yet it’s so much more than that. Unknowing, I have been waiting for this moment for a little too long. He pulls my body as close to his as possible. I should be considering the fact that Scott could just look out his window. A thought should’ve crossed my mind that this is one of the shittiest things either of us could do. My conscience shouldn’t be clean. Right now, this is all I can think about.

I feel like I should feel guiltier than I do. I was more nervous of Scott catching me than my parents. Scott and I have always been close. We’re twins. We will always be that. But Monty and Scott? What just happened between me and Monty was risky for that. Yet I lay on my bed staring at my ceiling; I’m smiling like a fool. The clock reads 23:39. Just sleep Y/N. I just kissed Montgomery De La Cruz. A simple, but so perfect, kiss. I can’t wrap my head around it, let alone the fact that he said he’s ‘pretty much’ in love with me. Like shit. Is he gonna regret telling me that in the morning? I hope not.

- The Next Morning -

Nerves and a centimetre of guilt pumps through my veins, waking me up at exactly 06:12. I usually wake up at 07:00, so I might as well shower. I know I shouldn’t dress up just because Monty pronounced his love for me. You know I’m going to though. A touch of mascara and tinted lip balm will be subtle enough.

“You’ve gotta stop looking like that,” Scott shakes his head at me as I jog down the stairs and into the dining room. “Scott! You look beautiful sweetheart,” my mum kisses me on the cheek and hands me a plate of pancakes. I can’t even think about eating right now. “She does it just to flirt with Monty,” a metal spoon hits my back. He scoffs. “I do not!” Usually that would be true, but today it’s not. My high waisted shorts sit perfectly on my hips, and my fitted crop top hugs my breasts. I look down at my outfit. I honestly don’t even thinks it’s that bad. “It’s not my fault Monty flirts with me,” I tease Scott. Is that even a joke though? “Fuck, you wish!” “Right!” My mum shouts. Definitely at the swearing. “Just get to school!”

There’s silence in the car. Not even the radio plays a sound. This is where the guilt starts to sink in. “We’re picking Monty up, could you move to the back when we get to his?” Scott asks, cracking the first ‘smile’ towards me today. “Oh I see how it is,” I grunt jokingly, and he actually smiles. I can’t imagine what it would be like if me and Monty carried on. If anything it shows that yesterday was a mistake and can’t happen. Too much would be risked. We don’t live far from Monty, so in seconds we were outside. It hadn’t even sunk in that I have to see him today. Fuck. Slipping out the car, we lock eyes. “Good morning, Reed,” he huskily whispers. His smile captivates me, but I just have to ignore it. Just like I’m ignoring the fact that when I slid past him to get to the back seats, our bodies scraped together: I thought, stupidly enough, sitting behind Scott would mean there would be no eye contact between Monty and I. Boy was I wrong. In the corner of his eye. In the rear view mirror. It would stop if I stopped looking at him... right now that seems impossible.

“Hey Y/N,” Jess smiles at me as I walk past her locker. Strange? But I stop and turn. “Hey, how are you?” I ask, watching her grab her books. “I’m all good. I just wanted to apologise for Clay the other day. He’s just a bit-” “I deserved it, don’t even worry about it.” She presses her top and bottom lips together tightly. “Thank you though,” I open my arms to hug her, which she surprisingly accepts, until I get a tap on the shoulder. Jess releases me. When I turn and see Monty, my heart goes from zero to a hundred real fast. Imagine a boy having such a grip on you. “Monty,” my voice comes out shaky. “Jessica,” Monty nods at her, and he grunts. “I’ll see you later,” she screws her face up at him and walks away. “She’s such a bitch,” he rolls his eyes. THIS is what I don’t like about Monty. I just wish that list was longer than the stuff I do like about him. “Anyway, can we go talk somewhere?”

Panic thoughts rush through my head as I walk out the school with Monty. What if someone starts gossiping about the fact that we’ve left the school to talk? That’s so fucking stupid. Why would people do that? I’m a little nervous. I’m actually a LOT nervous. Breathe Y/N. I take a seat on the wall behind me. “I wanted to know how you’re feeling?” He simply says. I smile down to myself. “You make this so hard, why can’t you just be an asshole to me?” I let out in a whispered chuckle. “Is that what you want?” He brushes the back of his hand against my arm. “What do you want from this?” My question just makes him raise his eyebrows, as if the answer’s obvious. Does he want a fuck-buddy? Does he want a relationship? Is he just trying to fuck with my emotions? I mean, that last one’s completed with flying colours. “You’re gonna hate me for saying this Y/N, but I honestly just want you.” If anyone else said such a thing, I’d tell them to get a grip. This is Monty. Bad boy image with devilishly good looks. The boy you love to hate, and hate to love. He’s not meant to actually swoon for a girl. Is that what’s happening? Holy shit. “I don’t know if that can happen, what about Scott?” He smiles to himself. His body places itself next to me. “This has nothing to do with Scott,” he shrugs. I wish that was true. “All Scott does is warn me to stay away from you. You’re his best friend,” hand goes to my knee. My naked knee. Please move your hand a little higher; no. “I know, but he’d get over it,” I make a ‘would he really’ face at him. It’s hard to believe that. My eyes gaze away from him for a second. I look at the sky and the trees and that school building. Monty’s eyes are the last place I should look. Except my eyes drift back to his in a second. Stomach; drops. He slowly begins to move his head towards mine. I want to stop him. I want to consider the fact that anyone could see us right now. Including Scott. In all honesty, his lips aren’t moving towards mine fast enough. “Montgomery,” my whispered words stop his in his place. My forehead fall onto his. “I’d risk it, for you.”

School is always a drag, but when you’re waiting for it to end it goes 10x slower. Once again, the rest of our people had last period free. This leaves Monty and I the only ones left. I should be avoiding the boy at all costs. But my hearts flutters when I see him waiting at the school doors for me. I can’t even find words. “Hey,” Monty gives me a contained smile, as if he was holding back. I’m already blushing. “Montgomery,” I say simply. He starts moving, so my body automatically follows his lead. I honestly can’t help it. Can you blame me? Have you met the guy?! “Do you wanna walk with me?” Walk with him? Fuck yeah. But we all know what happened on that last walk of ours. For some reason that only makes me want to walk with him even more. I can’t control myself... he must have a voodoo doll or something.

As usual, our chats flow too naturally. I guess we’ve always spoken, but I never realised how well we got on until recently. Have I been hiding these feelings? It wasn’t intentional. But I should be containing my feelings now. I should cut Monty off before we hurt Scott. I wish I could. “How do you feel?” He asks again. Fuck, I wish he’d leave it alone. “That’s a loaded question Monty.” He stops in his place. A thought bubble appears above his head. It’s only for a few seconds. Then he softly takes hold of my forearm, and leads me into an alleyway. This is it. This is where he kills me. Both of his hands go to my wrists, lifting them and pushing me against the wall. This is single handedly the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced in my life. His eyes just stare back into mine. We’re so used to just staring at each other at this point. “How do you feel?” He asks again. I feel like I want his body on top of mine if we’re honest. A smug look captivates his face. Can he hear my thoughts? I gulp loudly. I think I’m about to have a heart attack. “Y/N,” he whispers deeply. “Can you just kiss me already?!”

He’s seems almost struck by my words. As if, although he wanted to hear them, he wasn’t expecting me to actually say them. His eyes scan my body intricately, up and down. I could watch him look at me all day. “Monty... did you hear what I said?” I ask. The corners of his mouth turn up before he makes a move. Finally. His lips on mine once again. I’ve been aching for this moment for at least 16 hours since the last, and first, time. Only this time it’s not just a long, still kiss. Within seconds his tongue asks for access into my mouth. The angel on my shoulder makes me hesitate. This is wrong. But it’s so fucking right. The devil, and my entire body, screams yes. His mouth; warm. The massaging sensation of his tongue sends flutters in every place possible. His hands squeeze my wrists tighter before realising them. They move to balance on the wall. Mine go to the bottom of his tee and... I realise we’re outside. In public. Where everyone and anyone can see us. I break away from his spell for a second. It’s somewhat comforting to see him breathing just as heavy as me. My right hand goes to his chest. “Fuck...” I whisper. I lean my head on the front of his shoulder. In the most adorable way, he places a soft kiss on the top of my head. He can definitely do that more often. “Do you wanna come back to mine?” He asks. What a stupid fucking question.

Luckily we were only seconds away from Monty’s place. I felt giggly the whole 3-5 minutes. It’s like I was in a trance. I heard Monty say that he dad was at work, and honestly it’s all I needed to hear. I could think about guilt, l right now, or anything other than the fact that I’ve never needed or wanted something so much in my life. So he unlocks the door. Before we can even get in the building, I turn Monty towards me and jump. My legs wrap around his waist tightly as I latch my lips onto his. This time there was nothing stopping us. Slam goes the door behind us. The wetness between my legs only grows as Monty’s hands cup my ass cheeks. Squeezing slightly, I let a small, breathy moan enter his mouth. He grunts. “Fuck, Y/N,” he mutters between our lips. It’s almost like he stepped foot on the gas. I’m not sure how, but Monty walks us up the stairs whilst we make out, all the way up to his bedroom. Maybe I should be wondering how he’s so good at this. I couldn’t care less.

My back bounces onto the bed. Our lips stay apart for only a second before his body is above mine. Hands smooth up and down from my hips to my waist. His fingers crawl to the buttons of my shorts. He stops. “Is this okay?” He asks. This is the moment. I know, just by that statement alone, that Monty is worth it. It confirms it all for me. My hands cover my mouth in awe. “I fucking love that,” I pretty much squeal. “Monty,” I speak, holding his head between my hands. “This is more than okay, I need you.” His lips attach back onto mine, and he starts undoing my shorts. I wiggle and lift my body to make it go faster, but they just don’t come off fast enough. All I keep imagining is that this is a dream. This is too crazy to be actually happening.

Just as Monty’s lips go to my neck, I hear a buzz. Is that my alarm? No. So this must be real. It is, however, Monty’s phone ringing. Monty pulls himself off of me. I reach over, pick up his phone, and see ‘Scotty’ written across the top. 1. Cute. 2. Fuck. “Imma just ignore it,” he smirks, rubbing his body back against mine. I don’t know what comes over me, but I find the strength and confidence to flip us over. I smile massively at what I’ve just accomplished. Here I am, straddling Montgomery De La Cruz. Does it get any better? His eyes look shocked. “That’s so fucking hot,” he lifts his head to lock our lips. “Shut up,” I whisper against his lips. I slide my tongue between his lips and... a phone rings. “Fuck,” I grunt frustratedly. ‘Scott’ comes across my phone this time. “Fuck, I’m gonna have to answer it,” I speak in a panic. “It’s fine just ignore him,” he reaches to grab my phone. My hand moves slowly away, making his eyes roll. “He could put 2 and 2 together and make 4,” I say simply. Shit. Act natural. “Hey Scott,” the key is to not overthink this. I won’t think about the fact that I’m in a thong straddling him best friend. Or that Monty’s fingers are tracing pattens on my ass cheeks. “Hey, have you seen Monty?” Of course. What other question would he ask? ‘I have actually. He’s currently between my legs. I could pass you on?’ But no. “No I haven’t, what’s up?” I hear a sigh through the phone. Okay Scott, just hang up now. “Bryce is looking for him. Where are you?” I put a bit of pressure on Monty’s chest with my hand, as I sign to stop, but he does not. Instead he squeezes my buttcheeks ever so slightly. This sends a rush of pleasure through my body, and a HEAVY breath out my mouth. “It sounds dodgy your end Y/N,” he laughs. I can hear the nerves in his voice. I know he’s thinking the worst, and it’s actually a reality right now. “I’m just working out.” In my head I can see Scott shake his head at my response. You’d think, as a jock, he’d understand the grind of working out and keeping fit. But no, Scott is naturally built like an athlete. “Well, enjoy that shit I guess?” His voice is uncertain. “If you do see Monty, tell him to come to the house! Bye,” before I can respond, he hangs up. I think I did it.

I let out a deep breath of relief. “Scott said that if I see you I should tell you to go to our house,” Monty pretends to throw me off him, but instead he flips us back over. “You can go if you’d like,” I mutter, slowly sticking out my bottom lip. I’m lying. My legs tighten around his body. His eyes widen. “I think I’m gonna stay with you,” he smiles, planting his lips back onto mine. He continues to kiss down my neck, just like he was before we were interrupted. “Montgomery,” I’m not sure if I regret stopping him. Theres just one thing I need more than this foreplay right now. Eyes: locked together. Fuck. He makes me nervous. I feel like it’s my first time all over again. “Can you just, like, fuck me now?” I giggle. I hardly finished my sentence before he pulls himself off me to go into a drawer. A condom. To get comfy, I move myself to his pillows. To think, a couple of days ago I woke up in this room panicking because I thought I slept with Monty. Now I’m about to.

He rummages the condom on in seconds. I’ll worry about the fact that he’s clearly very experienced later. “Is this good?” He asks. I could make a silly joke about how ‘he hasn’t started yet’. But I know exactly what he means. And it’s so fucking cute. My hands reach for the back of his head, pulling his lips onto mine for just a peck. “This is perfect.” Eyes are locked together, he leans down and rubs his nose on mine. The palpating going through my body is concerning. And somehow, just when he starts entering, it feels real. This only probably ever crossed my mind once. I steady my breathing as he pushes himself further inside me. Not a virgin, but definitely not a slut. In my opinion anyway. He notices me trying to get comfortable and plants his lips on mine for one long kiss. Humming vibrates from his lips onto mine. I want this moment to last forever.

Breath. Monty stays still for just a second, and pulls his lips away from mine. His right hand sweeps a strand of my hair out of my face. I reach my right hand up to his face, caressing his cheek and smoothing my thumb against his bottom lip. “You are,” pause, “so beautiful,” he says boldly. It wasn’t whispered. It wasn’t a question. I could hear he meant it. Montgomery De La Cruz thinks I’m beautiful. Without warning, he starts to pull out. My mouth gapes more and more. You know that point where you’re on a rollercoaster and you’re waiting for the drop... that was the anticipation for Monty to start thrusting. I’m a mess underneath him. When he does start, I feel myself coming apart at the seams already. His lips go back to mine, my arms stretch around his neck to pull him closer. Our tongues dance around. This was a ‘finally’ moment. The steadiness of the thrusts was perfection. It wasn’t rough, but it was nowhere near slow. And gentle. Everything about this boy was gentle. I don’t know if anyone has ever seen this soft Monty. I want this Monty all to myself. And right now, he’s mine. I wanted, and I needed, him as close as I could. My legs probably couldn’t wrap around his waist any tighter.

My entire being wanted to hold on for as long as I could, but this boy has some serious tricks. I feel like I’m quite stubborn so I could hold off. Monty’s right hand smooths down my hip, down my thigh, and hooks under my knee. As he lifted my leg slight higher, I knew I couldn’t hold on. “Fuck,” I pretty much squeal into his mouth as he reaches my g-spot. My abdomen bursts with excitement. My eyes glance at him biting his bottom lip very discreetly. His lips move from my lips to the side of my neck. I close my eyes for a second to just soak this moment in. I never thought I needed to feel this close to Monty. The pace increases by 2x at least, and a long lost knot begins to form in my stomach. It’s as if my body can sense the boy’s need to release. I think we’ve both been waiting for this moment for a little longer than we think we have. “Please tell me your close,” his husky voice tingles my neck. “Oh my god!” I moan loudly as my climax... finally. Connected. We continue to ride out each other’s highs. Wow.

My head lays against Monty’s chest. I know this can’t last forever. At some point I have to go home. When my heart stops racing, I sit up. “Do you regret it?” Is the first thing Monty asks. I smile to myself slightly. I shake my head slowly. “I kinda wish I did,” I shrug and turn my body towards him and cross my legs. “What do we do now?” I ask with a nervous giggle. He just stares at me. I’ve never been looked at like that before. “Scott’s gonna have to get over it. You’re too beautiful to keep it a secret,” cheesy, but fucking cuuuute. “Shut up. You’ll start making me believe it in a minute,” I push his chest lightly. Monty takes my hand and pulls me close to him. “You’re beautiful Y/N.” It’s hard to make jokes when the most handsome person is staring you dead in the eyes. My cheeks heat too quickly. “So, I heard you kinda like your best friends sister... how’s that working out for you?” I whisper. He opens his mouth, smiling massively for a second. “I actually say that I’m in love with my best friend’s sister. You should get your facts right.” A grin bigger than my head itself forms. “Wow, sassy Monty’s got,” I tease. “I mean it, Y/N. I’m in love with you.” I open my mouth to respond, but no words seems to form. I gobsmacked. Most of the times when I say I’m speechless, I’ve still got shit to say. I don’t know what to say to that. “Fuck, Monty,” I whisper. I nudge my nose against his chin. “If it turns out it’s because I look a little like Scotty, I’m gonna be pissed,” I laugh. Once again, Monty flips us over and puts his body between my legs. He put his tongue between his lips, licking them very sexily I might add. “That’s just a bonus,” my mouth drops open before pulling Monty’s lips down onto mine once again.

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

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ptersparkers · 4 years

Text

hell froze over

summary: it’s a thursday afternoon and caliban’s taken you by surprise when he teleports to earth and asks you out on a date. not that you’d ever say no.

warnings: mentions of religion and typos, probably.

a/n: lol i can hear my parents sh*uting so i’m gonna write instead because!! we love distractions!!

add yourself to my taglist!

Sabrina Spellman swore that Hell would have to freeze over the second she saw Caliban get “soft” and care for mortals.

That day was today.

Greendale, being the small town that it was, housed many local favorites which included Dr. Cerberus’ diner, also dubbed as the local hangout of the Fright Club. There wasn’t much to say about the whole situation about who was running Hell with Sabrina’s clone down under and the Sabrina you knew alive and well, talking your ear off about Nick this, Harvey that, and Caliban this and that.

If you were being completely honest, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

So when Caliban teleported back up to Earth’s surface and caught you off guard leaving school grounds, you let out the loudest yell imaginable and dropped all of the books and stray pieces of paper you were carrying.

“Jesus Christ,” you said, clutching your heart. You bent down and started to pick up what you had dropped.

Caliban chuckled. “Not quite. Doubt he’s ever going to come to Earth.”

You didn’t pay much attention to his comment in favor of gathering everything that was on the concrete and Caliban frowned, bending down to help you pick up some notebooks that were closer to him than you. When you finally stood up, you moved strange of hair out from your face and huffed, annoyed.

“If you’re going to scare me, at least do it where people won’t see because I’m pretty sure I’ve embarrassed myself enough for this entire school year.” The corner of Caliban’s mouth lifted into a smirk when he saw you try to reassure your schoolmates and tugged on your backpack strap to get your attention.

“It’s a Thursday afternoon,” he stated.

“Yes?”

“Do you have any plans?”

You were taken off guard.

“What are you planning?” you asked with a raised brow.

“Nothing bad,” he promised. “Since Sabrina number two is down in Hell dealing with things for the weekend, I figured why not come up here and spend the day with my favorite mortal.” You laughed at the sentiment and fixed your backpack to keep the straps from falling.

“Well, I’m headed to the diner to study for a little bit before I head to cheerleading practice,” you explained. “I have about two hours before I have to be there so might as well eat and study. You know, kill two birds with one stone.”

“Mind if I join you?” he asked.

“You want to watch me study for two hours? It’a gonna be kind of boring,” you explained.

“Think of me as your study-buddy.”

“Where did you even learn that phrase?”

“Sabrina’s rubbing off on me,” Caliban said with a low laugh. He gestured away from you. “Lead the way.”

The diner wasn’t too packed when you arrived and you chose a table big enough to let you put your laptop and notebooks on while having a plate of food beside you. Your water bottle sat proudly in Caliban’s hands as he looked at the various stickers stuck to it.

“This is quite peculiar,” he said.

“It’s a bunch of memories,” you explained. “This one’s from the camp grounds Harvey and I used to go to when we were younger. The orange one is from when Sabrina and I first became friends and that red one is the first sticker I saw with the world ‘Hell’ on it after coming back from, you know, Hell.”

Caliban smiled at that one. “You’re odd.”

You tilted your head and chuckled, not knowing how to respond to such a comment. You turned your attention to the screen in front of you, reading online articles assigned to you for your AP World History class.

“What is ‘AP’?” Caliban asked, looking at the textbook that sat beside your computer.

“It stands for advanced placement. It’s basically a college course for high schoolers so we don’t have to take it when we get to college and it gives us school credit.”

“Sounds complicated.”

“It is,” you said, clicking out of the article you had finished taking notes on. “I think this while ‘Hell’ ordeal set me back because I haven’t been studying as much as I used to. At the end of the school year, everyone who takes AP classes has the chance to take a test that determines a score, which determines college credit.”

“You humans are so overachieving,” he commented, stealing a fry from your plate. “But I suppose being knowledgable isn’t bad.”

“Sometimes I feel like I put too much pressure on myself,” you confessed, your gaze back on the man sitting in front of you. “Like, does this really matter? Whether I ace or fail my AP tests won’t matter in the long run and it’s not like I can avoid going to Heaven or Hell.”

Caliban quirked an eyebrow, realizing that discovering the secrets of witches, Hell, and Heaven had left you in a turmoil that no one bothered to discuss. Sabrina was a witch and had accepted her fate on her sixteenth birthday. As for the other three mortals, they had some sort of lineage in magic that offered them solace. You did not.

“Going to Hell really messed with you, didn’t it?” You didn’t want to say anything in fear of offending Caliban. When he wasn’t trying to steal the throne from Sabrina, he was a decent person, you thought.

“Um,” you said, pausing, “I think it made me realize some things. I think those things are making me confused about the next step in my life and if what I’m doing is worth finishing.”

Caliban looked at you and the various books, notebooks, and writing utensils sprawled out on the table. He saw your color-coded planner, binders that kept your articles and paperwork in place, and the dark tint underneath your eyes. That was all he needed to know.

“I think you’re on the right path. From the looks of it,” he said, gesturing to the messy table in front of you, “you are so passionate and dedicated about learning and doing something with your life. Not many people can say the same. You have the advantage of knowing Hell exists and the second layer to humanity while others wonder about religion and faith. Use it to your advantage.”

“If I hear this correctly, it seems like you don’t want me to give up.”

“I don’t,” he said, almost too quickly. “Your ambition to do well on your tests resembles my quest to become King of Hell. As I have found out another way to rule Hell alongside Sabrina, I think you’re going to find out what you’re meant to do in life.”

“You’re starting to sound like someone who believes in God.”

He chuckled. “God and angels exist. You know that now. I suppose you’ll have to continue praying to find out what He has in store for you.”

You sat there, dumbfounded. It wasn’t too long ago that Caliban had been in the grand room, cursing angels and Heaven above out of frustration and anger. You and Sabrina had been waiting for him to finish throwing his tantrum before she could engage in business with him, so hearing Caliban talk about having faith in something that even he didn’t believe him gave you a glimmer of motivation.

“I don’t even know what to say,” you said softly, fiddling with a pen.

“Go out with me,” Caliban said. “To that drive in theater across town. You mentioned once that you like to go there when you’re stressed. We could forget about Heaven and Hell for one night.”

“Okay,” you said quietly, earning a gigantic grin from Caliban.

As you were about to pack up your belongings, you heard a “Oh for Satan’s sake” from behind you and turned to see Sabrina rolling her eyes, already dressed in her cheer uniform.

“Caliban, my clone and I are going to beat your ass if you hurt Y/N in any way,” she said in a sickly sweet tone. Caliban nodded, heading the message without much argument. You packed up your belongings and ran to use the restroom, leaving the two mystical beings alone.

“I really like her,” Caliban said after a brief pause. “And I know you don’t agree wholeheartedly but I intend to prove otherwise.”

“Y/N’s smart and won’t take anything from a boy if she’s not comfortable with it,” said Sabrina. “All I’m saying is you should watch you back should you ever hurt her in any way because it’s not just the Fright Club that’s gonna come after you.”

Caliban gulped and watched as you emerged, putting your hair in a low bun before walking outside to go to cheerleading practice.

“How does tomorrow night sound?” Caliban asked before you entered Harvey’s truck.

“Pick me up at six,” you said, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “And this time, please don’t teleport and scare me.”

The boy made of clay laughed and promised not to, watching as you climbed into the truck and waved goodbye. He saw Sabrina give him an all-knowing look, but he was determined to befriend your friends if it was the last thing he did.

Hell, he had an entire lifetime to get to know you.

***

BONUS:

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you asked as Harvey and Sabrina looked at you. The keys were in the engine but Harvey didn’t bother moving, opting to look between you and the spot where Caliban had teleported to Hell.

“I know he’s kind of a good guy now, but are you serious?” Harvey asked.

“What?” you asked, provoking him. “Am I not allowed to be in relationships like you two?”

“I’m just surprised, is all,” said Sabrina. “I mean, you did hate him when we first met him.”

“Absolutely nobody messes with my best friend,” you said. “You two, well, the other you, is ruling with him peacefully.”

“What is he tries to pull a trick?” Harvey asked.

You had to admit, that was a fair concern.

“I don’t think it’ll come to that, but if it does, there’s no way in Hell, literally, I’m choosing a boy over my best friends. Who, by the way, I’ve been friends longer with.”

Harvey seemed to like this answer and started the engine, driving back to the school grounds with you in between him and Sabrina.

“I guess Hell really did freeze over.”

***

taglist:

@princessdolan @ashyramblings-ficrecs.

#caliban x reader #caliban #caos x reader #sam corlett x reader #caliban imagines #sam corlett x you #caos imagines #chilling adventures of sabrina x reader #chilling adventures of sabrina #sabrina spellman #harvey kinkle #my writing #hell froze over

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marvel-ousnesss · 4 years

Text

The one with all the theatrics (Zuko x reader)

Summary: Following your escape from the air temple, you and the rest of the gaang made it to Ember Island. This gave you and Zuko the chance to make up for lost times. More specifically, camping, training, and a night at the theater.

A/N: This was meant to be a shorter follow-up for this fic, but can be read on its own. As always, enjoy 💜💜💜

Word count: 3k (???)

masterlist

The group eyed you with curiosity as you sat down in front of the pot full of rice and water. Zuko and Aang settled by your sides and the others sat around, closing a circle. Zuko lit a small fire on his hand, and you stretched out a hand to transfer the hit to the pot, closing your eyes and enriching your breath. In a matter of seconds, the water had boiled and the simple meal had begun to cook.

You gushed about the nice weather for a bit, and told them about the few times that you and your father had gone camping as you grew up. You were about to tell them about the time you learned how to climbed, but were interrupted by Toph’s stomach roaring.

As if on cue, you took a deep breath and sniffed the main course, takin no time on announcing was ready.

Aang helped you fill the plates and Zuko took care of the tea department. When everyone was served, you began eating what was left on the pot.

“You know, I’m glad you guys are here,” Sokka spoke as he stuffed his mouth with rice. “Food had never cooked so fast.”

“Well, glad you found our talents useful,” you laughed, still with one of your hands under the clay dish.

“And Zuko”, he continued, “who would’ve thought you’d save us from Azula after continuously trying to snuff us out.”

You softly shoved him with your shoulder, noticing a light blush gracing his cheeks.

“I can't believe I'm saying this but, today, you're our hero! To Zuko!”

You put the pot down and grabbed your tea, happily toasting with the others.

“I’m touched,” he hummed, “I don’t deserve this.”

“No kidding.”

Zuko’s gaze fell immediately. He didn’t want to confront Katara, but you weren’t about to let her treat him like that any longer.

Afraid of making it shatter, you placed the cup in front of your crossed legs and boasted, “I’m sorry, last time I checked, none of us would be here right now if it wasn’t for him.”

“Yeah, who would’ve thought he could do more than just destroying people’s lives.” Katara stormed off before you could say anything else.

Defeated, your eyes followed Zuko as he went after her.

Knowing he was gonna need some space, you went to sleep right after dinner. A few hours passed and he still hadn’t entered the tent, so you headed out and ignited a small flame that began dancing on your right palm.

You closed your hand when you didn’t see him around camp, putting your fire out. When you were about to get in the tent once again, ready for another attempt of calling it a night, he dragged himself out of Sokka’s tent, awkwardly bumping into Suki.

You snickered at the awkwardness before approaching your friend.

“Wanna talk about it?” you offered. He just walked past you and into the tent.

You could only picture how difficult this whole redemption thing was being for him, so you didn’t push him. Instead, you followed him inside and laid down next to him, honey eyes meeting your own. “She’ll come around,” you whispered.

“It’s not just her, Y/N.” He sat up, letting the blanket fall off his upper body. His raven curls covered his face, and his shoulders fell lifeless and burdened.

You mimicked his posture, and leaned in to grab one of his hands with between yours. “You can talk to me. You know that, right?”

“I do,” he offered a smile, but it didn’t reach past the corners of his mouth. When you squeezed his hand, he exhaled and dropped his head further, ashamed.

“It doesn’t have to be now, if you don’t feel like it.”

As he remained silent, you gathered he was processing whatever had his head spinning. When he lifted his head, you could see the grief and remorse that radiated off him. He took a deep breath before he voiced his thoughts.

“Everything I believed in, how proud I was of being my father’s son. It- it was all wrong.”

You trailed off, “Zuko…”

“I believed all the lies that they implanted on my head. The war, the killings, the burnt villages. I can’t believe it but-”. He sighed. “-Katara’s right. The only good thing I’ve ever done is joining the Avatar and after tonight I know that even that won’t give me my honor back.”

You meditated over what to say, scanning the your surroundings while trying to chose your words. “She needs time to heal, and closure. You know, better than anyone, that honor can always be restored, but it has to be earned back. Maybe if you help Katara get the closure she needs-”

“The southern raiders,” he recalled.

“What about them?”

“Their commanding officer killed Katara’s mother. If she confronts her mother’s killer, she’ll get closure!”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, violence won’t help this time, Zuko. If she does anything, she’ll blame you for it when she regrets it.”

He thought about it for a moment, but shook his head. “It’s the only way I can think of earning her forgiveness. I have to take her to them.”

Zuko’s lips were purses and his brow was frown with conviction. There was no way of talking him out of this.

“Guess it’s settled then.”

They left the following night, so the rest of you decided to take that time to move into the fire lord's beach house on Ember Island. As you wandered through the halls, flashbacks of toddlers running around bragging about little fires and sandcastles flooded your mind and you smiled, wishing for better times to be back.

The first night at the house, you went to bed early, eager to get rid of the memories. Although you woke up early the following day, and took a look at the gardens, the kitchen, the library and the guest room that you used to call your own. When you had walked around the grounds for a bit, you decided to join the others, who —you assumed— were hanging by the porch.

The day had practically come to an end, as the sky was a tone of orange and the sun was laying on the sea. You crossed paths with Katara when you headed to the dock, offering a soft smile. You had seen her interaction with Zuko and Aang from afar, and couldn’t be prouder of both of them for coming to terms.

Aang followed her shortly after, leaving you and Zuko alone on the dock.

“I’m assuming it went well.” You stepped forward and sat at the edge, silently inviting him to do the same.

“She almost killed him, then did nothing.”

You shrugged, turning to face him. “For better, I guess. What’s important is that she got what she needed and that you were the one to help her.”

After a moment of contemplative silence, a smirk made its way to the prince’s face and you quirked a brow in question.

“Aren’t you gonna say it?”

“Say what?” You knew what he meant, but were eager to hear him say it.

With a huff and an eye roll, he granted your wish. “That you were right all along. “Violence was never the answer, Zuko; you have to forgive, Zuko; focus on your chi, Zuko; bla bla bla...”

"Why would I say it if you already know I'm right."

"We both know you wanna get it out, this is your moment. I'm all ears."

"Fine, then-." You cleared your throat. "-As always, Prince Zuko, I was right and you were wrong," you gloated teasingly. "And, not that it’s nice to hear you mock my wisdom,” you taunted, shoving his side, “but I'm really happy for you.”

————

Your eyes were glued to the Avatar as he mimicked your every movement. You had lost count of the times either you or Zuko had performed the basic bending sequence with Aang. In general, his steps were calculated as he crossed the beach house patio, and his technique was not bad. But his movement lacked precision; not to mention, the flames he shot were a vivid, airy shade of red.

After shooting a stream of fire with a straight kick, you bowed at each other and you grabbed your water bottle.

“Again.” you instructed, wiping your forehead with your arm. “Your form is sloppy and your fire needs more fuel.”

The three of you had woken up at dawn, ready continue with Aang’s firebending training.

Instead of repeating the sequence once more, he flopped on the fountain and took a huge gulp of water. “Can we just take a break? Like a really, really short one,” he pleaded.

Zuko, who had been practicing some forms based on the Dancing Dragon, took a sit beside him and wiped his brow with his discarded shirt. “I think Aang’s right, he can run it again in a few minutes.”

You quirked a brow.

Zuko had always kept up with you in training; maybe you had gotten carried away. Another glance at him confirmed how drained the three of you really were. Letting out a breath, you agreed. “I suppose we can slow down a bit.”

After you coached Aang through the sequence a few more times, Zuko and him ran a more advanced set and he flew off to take a bath, leaving the two of you. You got up from the stairs and walked up to Zuko, sporting a wide grin that, he knew, could only mean one thing.

“You know,” you tried to play it cool, needless to say failing miserably. “We haven’t sparred in ages.”

He grimaced at you, incredulous. “Y/N, we’ve been training for hours.”

“Oh come on, don’t be such a snail-sloth, flames for brains,” you taunted.

When the nickname left your mouth, his features contoured into a glare of annoyance which later morphed into a grin to match yours. He took a stance and lit his fists, challenging.

You laughed and got into position.

You glided around each other, studying every detail and making sure you could still read one another with only a glance. You mirrored the strike of a jab but lashed a whip with a spinning kick instead. You relaxed a bit, thinking he had been shocked by your attack, but Zuko effortlessly redirected your flames with a flowing movement.

He smirked, not once averting his eyes from you.

“Show off,” you scoffed. Your eyes widening when he dropped a fire lash that missed you by inches.

He chuckled at your expression and kept advancing on you, as you blocked his attacks with a shield. Zuko wouldn’t cave, so you augmented your flames into an arch, using a sweeping arm movement to try and knock him down.

His right leg hesitated so that’s where you blew next, but instead of dodging, like you expected him to, he disintegrated your flame with a roundhouse kick and equipped himself with a fire dagger. You advanced toward him, gaining space, and summoned two daggers yourself.

A few strikes were exchanged, but your simulated Agni Kai quickly morphed into a good old hand in hand encounter. You had to think fast, he had always been a better up close fighter.

With repetitive jabs, you made Zuko’s stance quiver and launched a kick to his ribs as a final blow. He fell on his back but got up with a quick motion, and advanced on you with powerful stomping.

Balancing your options, you walked backwards on an impulsive attempt to get out of his range, unaware of the fountain behind you. Before you could react, a stair took your balance away, making you fall into the water with a loud splash.

Moving a few rebel strands out of your face, you looked up to find a hand stretched your way. “Now I see what you meant. You’re sparring like a kagura dancer.”

You took Zuko’s hand and pulled yourself up, muttering in response.

“What the hell happened to you?” Sokka’s snarky voice made you both turn around to face him and Suki, who were standing by the patio’s gate with a scroll in their hands.

“Flames for brains happened.”

“She fell into the fountain.” You playfully hit Zuko for his response, but he brushed you off with a scoff.

“Anyway…” Sokka’s gaze drifted between the two of you. “We were, you know, out and about, walking around town and guess what we found.”

With a grin matching his, Suki lifted a scroll with familiar faces inked on it. “There’s a play about us.”

You exchanged a sneer with Zuko, but neither of you spoke up. Just then, the other three members of your group strolled into the patio with glasses of coconut water.

“Just in time!,” beamed Sokka, proceeding to read the poster out loud.

Katara immediately expressed her reluctance, to which you responded with a relieved breath. But your joy was short lived as the others coarsed the three of you into agreeing.

“Come on, theater? That’s the kind of saggy nonsense we’ve been missing,” pleaded Sokka.

"But… the Ember island players?" Zuko's voice was a pitch higher as he complained.

“I mean, how bad could it be?” you inquired.

The answer to your question was quick to come. So far, as Zuko had well said it during the first pause, the interventions had been the best part of your night at the theater. Aang had gotten up and left, upset about his portrayal; Katara was trying to convince herself of how inaccurate it truly was; and Sokka, he was just bitter about the way they had limited his sense of humor. As for the rest, you couldn’t help but enjoy the parodic representation of your friends.

Sans Aang, you were gathered by the entrance of the theater, looking up at Suki as you and Zuko sat on the floor.

“It’s like you barely make it alive after all big battles,” she noted.

“Yeah, no offense but you guys lose a lot.” You rested your head on your friend’s shoulder. It was something you did often, but he stiffened for a second.

“Like you two can talk,” huffed Sokka. “It's not like you got captured by Azula or anything. Oh wait, yeah... you did.”

“Asshole”, you snarled, but Sokka showed no remorse. Zuko’s body shook lightly with his chuckle.

“I’m just saying.”

Silence surfaced and, shortly after, Katara left to find Aang while the Fan and Sword Duo embarked themselves on a mission backstage.

“Geez, everyone’s so upset about their characters, even you seem more down than usual,” Toph decreed.

You snorted at her bluntness. “Easy for you to say, 6 feet-tall, ass kicking wrestler.”

“You’re right,” she sighed, “my character is pretty great. Still, it’s just a play.”

Zuko’s gaze fell on his lap. “For me, it’s a parade of all the mistakes I’ve made being shoved in my face. My uncle has always been there for me. He taught me everything I know and and, what do I do? Stab him in the back.”

Your arm looped around his, rubbing his bicep comfortingly. “We’ve all done things we’re ashamed of.”

“But I may never get to redeem myself. Uncle will never forgive me.”

“Zuko, I’m sure he will.”

“Yeah, Sparky, don’t you see it?” Toph sat down next to Zuko.

“What do you mean?” His brows frowned.

“I once talked to the guy. Like, really talked-.” You eyed her with curiosity as she disclosed, “all he did was gush about was you. He loves you.”

“That’s sweet.”

“Neh, more like sappy and annoying.”

You shot the girl an amused side glance. “Aren’t you a ray of sunshine.”

She just beamed proudly at your words. “Anyway, he said he only wanted you to make your own path. To find your destiny. That’s what you did and look where it has brought you… to us!” She punched Zuko, then got up. “That’s already way better than where you were before.”

“Thanks.” He looked up at her with fondness.

“Now, Sokka said something about fire gummies so, if you’re done sulking, I’m gonna go see what that’s about.”

Zuko had lightened up. He was now sporting a relaxed smile and his head rested atop yours. His breathing was serene as he took in Toph’s words. You hesitated, afraid to disturb his demeanor, but, after a moment of thought, let your hand fall toward his. You were gonna loop your fingers together but he beat you to it.

Your breath hitched as you mentally scolded yourself for looking up at him. You tried to say something but no words came out. His golden eyes bored into yours before briefly gracing your lips. Shyly, you leaned up, wanting to get closer. His nose brushed your own before he leaned even further forward, softly pressing his lips against the corner of your mouth.

As the other members of the audience began evacuating the halls and returning inside , Zuko moved to stand up and pulled you with him.

“Come on," he prompted, “I think it’s about to begin.”

Requests open!

tags: @writers-thoughts09 / @eridanuswave

#prince zuko #Zuko #zuko imagines #zuko x reader #zuko imagine #atla #atla imagines #Avatar The Last Airbender #avatar imagine #prince zuko x reader #zuko drabble #zuko drabbles #zuko blurb #zuko blurbs #prince zuko imagine

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amethystpath-writes · 3 years

Text

Can Only Move the Eyes

Original Work

Can Only Move the Eyes

@badthingshappenbingo

Small Description: an immortal sorceress is trying to rid herself of immortality by taking the life of the one she loves.

******

You're strong, the lady's voice said, but not strong enough to counter my powers.

If Tysin could growl, he would have, but he couldn't move. Even his breaths were controlled by the sorceress at his side.

Have you had training? Defense against magic? the sorceress, named Giladiasana- Sana, for short- asked Tysin in his head. He could answer if he wanted, think a response loudly enough that she would hear, but he didn't care to talk to a woman who was about to bleed him dry.

Sana pushed a hard barrier on his mind, causing a sharp sting, one that would have made Tysin take a sharp intake of breath and even hold his head, but all he could do was squeeze his eyes shut. That was meant to happen differently, she whispered in his head.

When Tysin opened his eyes again, he glanced around, head unmoving, but eyes darting about. There was glass everywhere. Mostly bottles full of discoloured liquids. Other pieces of glass- colourful ones- dangled about on strings. Tysin assumed it was sea glass. The sorceress's hut was an alcove by the beach so it made sense.

You're ignoring me. Very nice. Sana purred in his mind and it felt to Tysin like it wrapped around his brain. He felt dizzy despite being entirely still.

Why shouldn't I? he finally replied. You pretended to be a friend and now I'm paralyzed. He laughed mentally and added, But let me guess. I should be grateful that I can move my eyes, right?

The sorceress crossed the room. She left Tysin's field of vision as he was laid down. Still, she reached out to his mind. How powerful was she? Depends, Sana sighed. Would you feel better if I kept your eyes closed while I did this?

In truth, he wasn't sure if not seeing was better or worse. Sure the sorceress' home was somewhat fascinating to look at- even if his vision was limited- but wouldn't it be a taunt when she finally dragged a blade across his arm and he began bleeding out? He'd rather see the sky while he died than a bunch of dried roots, twigs, and strange shapes made of clay.

Why are you doing this? Why me?

Which should I answer first?

Sana entered Tysin's sight again. If he could have, he would have lunged at her from his table. Just answer.

You're angry, she observed first. You don't have to be. I don't intend on killing you. I like you.

Tysin would have scoffed at this, except he couldn't imagine scoffing without his chest huffing, and his chest couldn't move. It was like his mind forgot what scoffing was without actually having the action. Whereas laughing was mostly a sound, scoffing required an attached feeling. He didn't have that feeling. It was odd. He blamed Sana.

As for why you...well it's what I just said. I like you, and I don't want to get rid of you. If you had been someone else, I might have killed you to complete my goal. But... Tysin rolled his eyes. The sorceress needed to stop pretending she had any amount of feeling for him. She was cleaning a damn blade so that she could cut him open. She didn't like him. She was keeping him, like a pet. You knew I was different from the moment you met me. You're observant like that. You knew there was something dangerous about me, but you still befriended me.

And this is how you repay me. Again, he wanted to scoff, but the concept was absent. Will it hurt? he asked instead. When I bleed out, will it hurt?

The cut would hurt, but I'll make sure you don't feel it, she said. Tysin was pissed hearing the genuineness in her voice. He refused to believe she felt any remorse for this. And anyway, I'm not bleeding you out, not fully. I'll have to do this a few times. The worst to happen is you'll feel faint and get a few headaches, but I have herbs to help with the latter.

Tysin didn't reply. He was confused- and angry, but mostly confused. Because she did sound sincere. She did sound like she cared, and like she didn't want to hurt him. But if she didn't want to...then why was she? What do you need me for? Why my blood? What are you using it for? He wanted to ask again, why him? Why not some other man or woman she'd met? Why did it have to be someone she apparently cared about? There were too many questions, and it seemed like there weren't enough answers. What she was doing was heathenish and no explanation could be enough.

I'm selfish, Sana told him. There was a long pause and Tysin's chest rose suddenly as the sorceress' did, too. She must have accidentally projected her own actions onto him. His eyes went wide at the swell of feeling. At the same time his chest had rose, he felt something ripping in his arm.

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean-

The pain in his arm increased and he screamed, his arm jerking to his chest. The skin on his chest felt warm, and he discovered he had mobility in his neck again as he looked down. Sana's control over him had slipped and he felt the pain she caused. She'd stuck the knife in his arm and it was bleeding now, bleeding through his shirt and settling on his skin.

"Tysin, I didn't- I'm sorry. I meant to numb you, but I- What am I doing?" sana sounded angry with the last question.

She rushingly put a hand on Tysin's shoulder, and he fell still again. His arm stung as it slammed against the table. He would have grunted but Sana had control again. His eyes were stuck in a pained squint. They burned as he couldn't blink.

"I've never-" Sana paced beside the table. Tysin didn't see the knife anymore. Had she dropped it. "I don't want to do this," she stressed. "But it's all I want, too." Was she sniffling? "You can still feel. Shit."

In the next moment, the pain in Tysin's arm was gone, and so was the warmth of his own blood on his chest when he cradled his arm. His eyes could move again, too, and he found himself actually be grateful that she'd decided to let them move unlike the rest of his body.

"You know what, I'm just going to say it." Sana took a deep breath. "There's a lot to it, but I'll simplify it as much as I can." Another breath. "I'm not just a sorceress, or a witch, or whatever you want to call me. Before that, I was- you'll never believe me..." Sana sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I'm a god. Or was. I was a god before I was made a sorceress on this Earth. And I'm immortal. I know it sounds crazy; I'm not even sure that you believe in the gods, but they do exist. The gods are real and they're the reason that I'm here as I am.

"I wanted to be mortal. I didn't want to be a god anymore, and they called me cowardice for wanting to abandon my powers and control. But I...life isn't worth living if you can't die. Why should I like to create if what I create has an expiration date and I don't? I want to die, Tysin. I don't want to live forever."

What does this-

You can talk. Sana nodded at him.

Tysin let his lips part before licking them. He tested his jaws, opening and closing his mouth and letting his teeth clack together. He ran his tongue along the backs of his teeth and along the skin of his cheek.

Finally, he spoke, "What does any of that have to do with me?" he asked. He didn't say whether or not he believed her outlandish story.

She swallowed. "They punished me," she explained. "They put me on a land of mortals and made me into another immortal, a one-of-a-kind. They made me into a target on this land. Witches were a scary tale created by mortals and the gods made it real, made me into that fictional form. I still want to die, so they surrounded me with death, and made it so that I can still never die."

Tysin gave a blank look. This still had nothing to do with him. She was avoiding the answer.

Sana caught onto his impatience and nodded, getting on with it all. "They have given me a choice. I still value the mortals as my creation. They are precious to me. So..." She sighed like she had done so often today. "I can obtain a mortal life for myself, but only if I kill a mortal I love." Sana walked closer to the table so that she could look Tysin in the eyes. "And I love you, but...I can't kill you. I won't." Her brows pinched together. "But I have to." Sana shook her head.

"You asked if it would hurt and before you asked that, I was still considering following through. I'm selfish, I'll say it again. But when you asked me that...I couldn't let you die. So what I want to do now is..." She grunted in aggravation. "There's so much playing into this. Okay, there are about 5.7 liters of blood in a human's body. And since blood is what allows for life, I must take yours for myself- drink it. What I want to do now, because I won't kill you, is I'll take 5.7 liters of your blood, but over a course of time. I'll take some today, let you recover. Take more another day, recover. And I'll keep doing that until I have enough to equate to one life."

Sana smiled, for the first time today. "Then we can both be mortal and I can love you until we both die. I won't have to be afraid of the person I love dying and therefore having to live on my own without them."

Tysin was almost in shock at the overload. "That...wasn't very simplified."

She gave a huff of a laugh, eyes bright.

"Let me get this straight. You want to take my life so that you can experience death?"

"In a way. I'm not actually taking your life because I won't be killing you, but yes. I am taking your blood so that we can be together."

What makes you think I want to be with you? Who was she to believe he would just be okay with her taking his blood? Sana was out of her mind! Sure she was a sorceress; he believed that in full. But an immortal god? One that needed his blood to overcome a neverending life? No. No, she was crazy.

But, he supposed, this is more up to my own selflessness now.

Sana could find another person to love. Love was limitless and could be presented in many forms. There's motherly love and platonic love. Romantic and admiration. Sana could make a new friend and do this to them instead of Tysin, but it didn't seem okay to do that. This was now a test of Tysin's morals, not the sorceress'. Could he be as selfish as her? Put someone else's life at risk or have them bled out day by day like Sana was proposing she do to him? No. Absolutely not.

"It's okay," Tysin said to the sorceress leaning over him. It wasn't okay. Not at all, but he wouldn't risk someone else's life for his own. Wouldn't make someone else go through being cut open ever day or week or however often it might happen to him. Tysin considered asking Sana to go ahead and kill him, but he knew she wouldn't do that. She loved him so much that she lost control even when she'd first hurt him with the knife. "Do what you must."

******

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