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slafkovskys · 3 years

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somewhere along the lines / t. zegras

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title from it ain’t me by kygo ft selena gomez

you had missed bedford, that was not something that you could lie about. it was your hometown, where you’d grown up, had met almost every person that you knew. it would never be anaheim and that was a fact.

another thing about bedford, despite everyone saying that it was quiet and safe and cozy, there were almost no secrets. shortly after you had arrived back in town, word seemed to spread like wildfire when you’d come home just barely three months after you had fled to california, following after trevor.

now, five days later, your son was tucked away with your mother in your childhood home and your car was pulling into a spot beside trevor’s that he had decided to keep at his parent's house when he left for the season. you could see him inside, his back to you at a table in the corner with his head down, hat covering his likely unruly hair.

you almost pull away, hand reaching to shift your car from park to reverse, but you stop yourself. he deserved an explanation just as much as you deserved closure.

you grab your bag from the passenger seat and open the car door, planting your sneaker-clad feet on the ground. you cross your arms over your chest, the new york chill wrapping around you as you quickly make your way towards the entrance.

walking into the cafe, the man behind the counter smiles at you. you walk up with the same grin and order the same thing you used to when you were in high school. you pay and nod when he tells you that it would take a few minutes, grabbing the number he hands you. you turn and find trevor already staring.

you tuck your bottom lip under your teeth and take a deep breath before walking over. you sit your bag in the chair beside you and stick your number in the holder before sitting down, “hi trevor.”

“why did you do it?” his scratchy voice asks, immediately jumping to the point, “why did you leave me?”

it was earth-shattering. heart-stopping. enough to send a round of cold chills down your body.

you were staring at the test with an emotionless face while the single word was staring right back at you, pregnant. you were barely seventeen then, still so young and planning on starting college applications soon. there was so much that you didn’t know and you were much too young to be responsible for someone else, you thought.

you didn’t cry. you wanted to, but the tears just wouldn’t come. instead, you put the test back into its box and shove it back into the bag before walking out of the drug store and to your car. you could feel the eyes of the cashier following you. she was the same one who used to place your animal crackers in front of you when you were four and now, thirteen years later, she was watching the aftermath of the pregnancy test that she had just sold you.

it was still early, the sky was dark and the atmosphere was glum. as you drove yourself to school. you stopped for some breakfast, so you wouldn’t have been telling your mother a complete lie as to why you had to leave so early, before parking in the same spot that you had been since you first got your license.

the brown paper bag that held your food was almost taunting. fifteen minutes ago you would have killed for what was inside, but now your stomach was so twisted that you didn’t even want to look at it. you sat in your car taking sips of your water before you grab your backpack and the brown bag and trudge inside.

you were six weeks into your senior year at that point and things were great. everything was great, your grades, your friends, your life. nothing had needed changing right then.

you walked into your first class of four that you had every day. your usual spot was open and angela, your designated partner, already occupied the seat beside it. she smiles when she sees you and holds up a hand, signaling that she had something to tell you, “first, you would not believe what happened last night. and second, what’s in the bag?”

“it’s got bacon and egg on it, so you wouldn’t like it,” you shake your head as you pull out your chair. you set the bag alongside your backpack on the tabletop before dropping down in the seat. “what happened last night?”

“so-” she’s interrupted by a loud noise.

you both look towards the door and watch as griffin strolls through, a big smile on his face. he heads directly for you and gestures to the bag. you wave your hand, “you can have it.”

“sweet!” he says, taking the bag off your table and placing it on his which was directly beside your own. he had wasted no time in devouring the sandwich, eating so fast you weren’t even sure he had time to taste it. he looks back at you after reaching for his water, “do you have a pencil i can borrow? i’ll give it back.”

“no you won’t,” you shake your head and hand him your backpack, not feeling like rooting through for a pencil you knew you weren’t going to need because you were supposed to be doing essays today. you focus your attention back on angela, “i’m sorry. what were you saying?”

to you, the matter wasn’t that interesting. angela had been talking to some guy who went to syracuse and had said that he could get you into some party that weekend, but, to be honest, getting into a college party was dead last on your list of pressing matters.

the morning seemed to drag on forever and when it finally reached noon, you were rushing towards the doors so that you could make a phone call to your doctor’s office to schedule an appointment to confirm that you were indeed pregnant.

you were walking down the hallway when a call of your name stops you in your tracks. you turn and find griffin jogging towards you and he throws an arm around your shoulder, walking you towards the door, “what’s-”

“i, um, i saw the box in your bag when i grabbed a pencil this morning,” he says, lowering his voice so that no one would hear him. you stop in your tracks, but he keeps you moving, “no, don’t look weird. i’m not mad or anything. it’s really none of my business, but have you, like, confirmed it or whatever.”

“i’m going to when i leave here,” is all you can say. your heart was pounding so loudly you could hear it and you were almost positive that griffin could as well.

“ok. come over for dinner and we can talk about it. mom’s gonna make your favorite,” he stops in front of the door, the look on his face telling you that he would not be taking no for an answer. you swallow before nodding, “okay?”

“okay.”

you knew within a couple of hours after leaving griffin in the hallway that the test was correct, you were due to have a child soon. even as you stared at the paper with the test results, you still couldn’t find it in you to cry.

after dinner, spaghetti with homemade meatballs, griffin quickly rushed you to his bedroom, warding off ava who was trying to wrangle you into her bedroom to watch some movie that no one else wanted to watch. you take refuge on his bed, grabbing a pillow and shielding your stomach with it. griffin takes notice and he sighs, collapsing beside you, “so, we’re having a baby.”

“we are not. i’m having a baby,” you mumble in hopes that no one would hear the two of you, “i think. i don’t fucking know. i’ve got to tell the dad at some point-”

“you don’t have to act like i don’t know, y/n,” he looks up at the ceiling. you gulp and he grins, “i’m not oblivious. i know that you and trevor hooked up over the summer. is it his?”

your silence gives him his answer. it’s quiet for a few minutes before you speak up, “i didn’t mean to get pregnant. i swear.”

“i believe you, y/n. i’m not mad at you about hooking up with my brother or being pregnant. it’s weird, sure, but i’m not mad,” he assures and you nod, pulling at the sleeves of your shirt. “are you going to tell him?”

“i don’t even know if i’m going to-” you trail off and he nods in understanding. “i just- i want time to figure things out. that’s all i want right now. please don’t tell him or anyone. besides my doctor and the woman at the drug store, you’re the only person who knows.”

“this is not my secret to share.”

you honestly tried to tell him. you typed out the four short words that should have kickstarted the rest of your life: we need to talk, but you could never follow through with sending them. you would see his snapchat stories and instagram posts every now and then, having fun and living life in massachusetts while you were back in new york, pregnant with his child that he knew nothing about.

he was doing all right without you and you were getting along just fine without him.

as wrong as it was, it was easy to hide from him. he didn’t come home often and you had no reason to be in boston, so when he was around, you just made sure that you weren’t. your son was born in february while trevor was still at college. when he unexpectedly came home in march, it was even easier to keep it from him because you weren’t supposed to be going anywhere.

griffin had done well in keeping his promise. he only slipped and told one person, his mother, and you really couldn’t blame him. one simply did not keep a secret from julie zegras.

she wasn’t mad, just disappointed that you were trying to keep it a secret which you understood, and fell into the role of being a grandmother quite easily. after you had given birth with your mother by your side, she had come to meet her grandson. her finger rubbed over his cheek as she sat across from you.

“he looks just like him,” she muttered, “he’s going to know, y/n.”

and he did.

as much as you wanted to, there was absolutely no denying that landon was trevor’s son. griffin had thought the same thing when he saw him for the first time and gave you a look that told you as much, to which you responded with a whispered “please don’t.”

as the months continued to pass and summer quickly arrived in bedford, you still hadn’t uttered a word to trevor. he didn’t reach out to you and you worked overtime to avoid him. the more that landon grew, the easier it was beginning to be for those who didn’t already know to start to piece two and two together, which only increased the likelihood of trevor finding out significantly.

you had barely had time to put your car in park before julie was rushing out of the front door. she opens the door to the backseat and makes a pleased noise, “good. he’s awake.”

you open your door and watch as she gets the car seat out. you grab your bag and follow her inside, “he wanted to see his favorite person.”

“who? me?” griffin rounds the corner and walks into the kitchen just as julie sits the car seat on top of the counter. griffin waves his fingers at the baby, “hi buddy. did you miss me?”

landon makes a noise like he’s about to cry and you and julie share a look before bursting into laughter. julie undoes the clips and pulls him out, resting him on her hip as she fixes the little hair that he had atop his head, “don’t take it personally, griffin.”

“he cries every time he sees me. it’s a little hard not to,” he scoffs before looking at you, “guess what?”

“what? has using my child finally gotten you a date?” you tease, taking a seat at the island and crossing your arms over your chest.

“no. he’s got the potential to be an excellent wingman, but for some strange reason, seventeen-year-old girls don’t really like babies. you don’t count. you’re eighteen now and he’s your son. you have to like him,” he points an accusatory finger at you when you open your mouth to speak. you raise your hands in surrender, letting your eyes wander over to where julie was showing landon the magnets on the fridge. “anyway, we got landon a pool. minor issue though, louie kind of thinks that it’s for him because that’s what we had to tell trevor.”

“like a kiddie pool?” you ask and griffin clicks his tongue. you raise an eyebrow, sparing a glance towards your son when he squeals, “you know he’s not even five months old yet, right?”

“he can sit in it and splash around though. he loves doing that. i’ve bathed him before and it’s got to be his top three favorite activities along with eating and screaming at me,” griffin rolls his eyes and you smirk.

“i mean, he doesn’t have any of those swim diaper things-”

“and that’s exactly why we bought him some. don’t even try to argue with me right now, y/n. he is getting into the damn pool,” griffin argues and julie reaches over to smack him on the back of the head. “sorry, but you get my point.”

“i guess i do,” you stretch your arms before standing up. “let me go and change him.”

“i hid the diapers in the back of my closet,” you send griffin a questioning look. he shrugs, “i’m running out of places to hide baby things okay.”

you swallow thickly as a quietness takes over the room. you knew that you were asking a lot of them to keep such a big secret from their son and brother and that weighed heavily on you.

the silence is broken by landon who sputters and you grin as you take him from julie. you tickle his side and he giggles, “are you blowing bubbles, buddy? you’re so cool.”

he rests his head on your shoulder as you walk towards griffin’s room. his fingers curl in your shirt as he takes a deep breath. you find the diapers exactly where griffin had said they would be (along with what you were sure was going to be your birthday present and a few other questionable items) and lay landon down on griffin’s bed.

louie had slipped in behind you and had easily jumped on griffin’s bed as well, planting himself beside the four-month-old. his wet nose touches landon’s temple and he squeals in response. you push louie back gently, “careful, lou. i know he’s your person but you can’t be smelling him like that. it freaks him out.”

louie huffs but lays his head down regardless, watching you carefully. you take him out of his outfit and change his diaper for one of the swim ones. you blow a raspberry on his stomach and he grabs at your hair, “are you so excited to get in your pool?”

you heard some conversation coming from the kitchen and some footsteps heading towards where you were. you pick landon up, assuming that it was ava or griffin, and pat at louie’s head when he walks up to you. the door opens and you don’t turn around as you speak, “honestly griffin, if it’s any consolation, i think he dislikes louie as much as he dislikes you.”

when there’s no response, you turn around to find that it wasn’t griffin who was standing at the door. trevor’s eyes are almost blazing as he looks between you and landon, connecting the dots. you wrap your arm tighter around your son, “he’s not yours.”

“bullshit,” trevor booms and you look away. “if it’s not mine, whose is it then?”

“i-” you can’t even formulate a sentence and he scoffs.

“that’s what i thought,” he shakes his head and scoffs. you avoid his eyes, “when?”

“if we’re going to talk about this, can we please not do it in front of him,” you pull your son’s head into your shoulder, trying to shield him from the view of his father who was rightfully angry with you. “griffin was going to put him in the pool. let me take him out there and then you can go off on me.”

silently, he steps aside to let you walk back into the kitchen. julie and griffin are sharing the same nervous look as you round the corner. ava makes the unfortunate decision to come down the stairs at that point. “what’s going- uh-oh.”

“my god, is there anyone in this house that didn’t know besides me?” everyone’s silence gives him the answer to his question. “great, okay. the fucking dog knew before i did.”

“trevor-” julie starts and you shake your head.

you hand landon off to griffin who has a bottle of baby sunscreen in front of him. you rub at landon’s soft cheek as he looks at you curiously, knowing that your mood was off. you don’t look at griffin as you speak, “take pictures for me, yeah? he loves water.”

“of course,” griffin says before getting everyone to follow him outside. ava sends you a look and julie mouths an apology before the doors close and you’re left alone with trevor for — what you come to realize — is the first time in a year.

still not speaking to you, he starts up the stairs to his bedroom and you follow behind, shutting the door behind you. you stand there awkwardly, playing with your fingers as you look around. it hadn’t changed since the last time you had been in it, which was the night that you were almost certain you got pregnant.

he turns and looks at you, gesturing to his bed, “you can sit down. you’re not a stranger here.”

you know that it wasn’t meant to be a reference to what you two used to do, but your cheeks still burn as you sit on the edge of his bed. you look at him then, only to find him already staring at you. you shrug your shoulders, “what do you want to know?”

“it’s mine?” he asks again and you nod.

“he’s a boy, so please stop saying ‘it.’ call him landon if you want.”

“you always wanted a boy,” trevor mumbles and you couldn’t help but grin because it was true. ever since you were little you had said time and time again that you wanted at least one boy and even though he came earlier in your life than you had planned, you were grateful that he had. “when were you gonna tell me about him?”

“honestly, trev, never,” you say and he lets out a long breath. he takes a seat at his desk chair and rubs his hands over his face, “i thought that it was for the best-”

“keeping my son from me was what you thought was best?” he looks at you incredulously. “are you serious?”

“if you’re going to shout at me, i’m leaving. i understand that you’re upset and you have every right to be, but i’m not going to sit here and be yelled at,” you announce and he mumbles an apology under his breath. “be honest with me, trevor. are you ready to be a father right now? with everything going on in your life, are you ready for that responsibility at nineteen?”

he seems to think about it, “not really.”

“okay then. our problem is solved,” you shrug.

“y/n, i want my son to know me. he needs his dad.”

“you just said that you weren’t ready to be his dad, trevor. what’s the truth? because i’m not going to have you be in and out of his life whenever you pick and choose. that’s not good or stable for him. he’s four months old, what he needs is stability,” you never thought that at eighteen years old, you would be having a conversation about what was in the best interest of your child, but here you were.

“were you ready to be a mother at eighteen? no, but you got ready to be one. i can do it too if you’ll just let me,” he rolls his chair over in front of you and reaches for your hand. his hand was warm and so were his eyes as you looked into them, searching for any hint of untruthfulness.

you had known trevor and griffin since you were all babies, you in the middle age-wise given that trevor was a year older than you and griffin almost a year younger. you had grown up neighbors and while you had moved a few miles away, your friendship remained. you had grown closer with griffin rather than trevor because as he had gotten older and his talent showed more and more, he was gone more.

“do you want to meet him?” is your rebuttal and trevor wastes no time in nodding his head. he pushes himself away from you which allows you to stand and walk towards his door. “just be aware he doesn’t really care for strangers. he’s still warming up to griffin.”

he follows you down the stairs and out onto the back porch. julie and griffin are there along with louie who is staring curiously at landon. griffin looks at you and smirks, “he doesn’t understand why he’s having to share the pool.”

“he’s greedy,” you shake your head before squatting down beside your son. you grin at him as he splashed his hand in the water, “hi bubba. there’s someone i want you to meet.”

he makes a shrill noise as you pick him up. you accept a towel from julie to dry him off as you walk over to where trevor had taken a seat on the bench. you sit beside him, adjusting landon’s hat on his head, “landon, this is trevor. trevor, this is landon.”

“hi,” trevor says, the biggest grin that you had ever seen taking over his face. landon looks between you and trevor before flailing his arm around. trevor looks at you uncertainly, “could i hold him?”

“of course,” you grin. you carefully hand landon over, holding your breath for his reaction. trevor stands him up on his legs, bouncing him just slightly. landon starts to pout and you frown, “he’s-”

“hey landon,” trevor says quietly and landon tilts his head. his hand squeezes the bracelet on trevor’s wrist. he starts to move his legs and trevor looks at you confused.

“he likes you, i think. strangers don’t usually make it this far,” you shrug your shoulders.

“that’s good then,” he smiles. landon lurches forward and he’s quick to steady him. “he looks just like me.”

“you are his dad, trev,” you look at trevor to gauge his reaction. you can hear julie when she takes a deep breath griffin laugh, but you focus on trevor.

“yeah, i am,” trevor laughs. to your surprise, landon lays his head on trevor’s shoulder and trevor looks at you again, “i think he likes me.”

griffin doesn’t miss a beat before chiming in, “well that’s just not fucking fair. i’ve known him longer than you!”

the anaheim conversation wasn’t one that you could avoid. it’s not that you were trying to, of course, it’s just that in the two weeks since trevor had known about his son, he had been solely focused on learning him and letting landon get acclimated to him being around, which the five-month-old had done quickly.

“so,” trevor asks one day as landon lays on his chest, knocked out for his afternoon nap. you had warned trevor about letting landon fall asleep on him, but trevor didn’t seem to mind being glued to one place for a couple of hours. “what about college? where are you going?”

“nowhere yet,” you sigh, turning your attention away from the movie that was playing, “i’m taking some time off so that i can raise him. i know that if i started now, i wouldn’t be able to focus and give him the attention that he needs.”

“that’s responsible,” he makes a face.

“i had to grow up fast, trevor. it’s not just me that my decisions affect now. i have to make the decisions that i think are best for him in the long run,” you stare at your son curled on his father’s chest. his fingers gripped the fabric of trevor’s t-shirt as a pacifier bobbed between his lips.

“well, i’ve been thinking and i want to get your opinion on something,” he was nervous, you could tell. his hand rubs up landon’s back as he looks towards you, “i- well, i know that two weeks ago i didn’t even know that he existed, but now i can’t imagine not being with him.”

“well he’s your son trevor,” you curl your toes into his thigh under the blanket you were sharing, “that’s normal.”

“i know that, but i don’t want to be away from him. what i’m asking is, would you be willing to come to anaheim with me when i go? whenever that may be,” he chuckles as landon twitches in his sleep.

“you want him to go with you? trevor i can’t-”

“no, no,” trevor shakes his head, “i want him to come with me of course, but i want you to come, too. i want you both with me. we can be together, a family.”

“a family?” you repeat and he grins, confirming with a nod. “are you sure?”

“i’ve never been more sure of anything in my life, y/n. i want to have a life with you,” the hand that rested on landon’s back moves and reaches out towards you. you grab onto his hand and he squeezes, “what do you think?”

“i think that sounds amazing.”

and for a while it did.

both your mother and trevor’s were hesitant given how young you both were, but they slowly came to terms when they figured out neither of you were changing your minds.

you made it to anaheim a few weeks after trevor had and began to settle into the apartment he had gotten for the two of you. it was in a safe place and it had paths to take landon on walks which were at the top of the list that you had given him.

landon loved going down to the beach and letting the sand fall through his fingers. your heart swelled every time he would pick some up and look at you like it was the most amazing thing in the world, which to him it probably was.

your time was mostly spent with landon alone which you couldn’t be upset about because a major part of trevor’s job was to travel, but when he started spending his nights elsewhere when he wasn’t gone on a road trip, that’s when things started falling apart.

you didn’t want to be the partner who asked him where he going every time that he left out of the front door, but when you had to watch him get ready for the third night in a row, that’s when you spoke up, “where are you going?”

“out,” was his response. he pulls out a jacket from the closet and turned to look at you, “why?”

“because you’ve been home for four days and you’ve gone out every night, trevor,” you lean against the doorway as he slips on his shoes. “i shouldn’t have to ask you to stay home and see your son.”

“he’s asleep, y/n. he’s not even going to notice that i’m gone,” he shakes his head and you let him leave the bedroom before following him down the hall. “it’s not that big of a deal.”

“it is when you don’t come back until the morning and you leave before he wakes up. then you come back during his nap and only see him for a few hours before you’re gone again,” your eyes follow his fingers as they grab his keys from the hook. he pulls open the door and you utter the words that make your stomach twist, “i promise you, if you walk out of that door, i’m not going to be here when you get back.”

he gives you his attention then and you can tell by the look in his eyes that he was thinking about it, whether you were serious or not, but not a moment later does he shake his head and let the door close behind him, letting you know his decision.

you could hear his car door slam before he starts the engine, pulling out of the driveway to wherever the hell he would rather spend his time. you stand there frozen as your world crumbles around you. you feel the tears well up in your eyes and you wipe them away.

he wasn’t worth it.

you grab your phone, dialing your mother’s number and leaning against the couch for stability. she answers almost immediately and you feel bad because you still had not adjusted to the time difference between the east and west coasts, “can i come home for a little bit?”

“what happened?” you hear her rustling in the background.

“i’m just- i’m tired mom. i don’t want to be here anymore and i’m sure he doesn’t want us here either,” you leave out the major details, knowing what it would do to her. you really were not in the mood to hear her tell you that she was right.

“let me catch a flight out there and i’ll drive back with you, okay?”

“i need to leave now, mom. i don’t want to be here when he gets back,” you explain, and after much back and forth and though apprehensively, she agrees not to book a flight.

you don’t feel anything as you pack your bag, careful not to mess with trevor’s things. it’s when you walk into landon’s room and find him sleeping so peacefully, so unaware of what was happening in his little world that you let the tears fall down your face. you pack your car before you get him out of his crib, making sure to grab his favorite stuffed animal and blanket before closing the door behind you. you walk through the kitchen making sure that you had what you needed before walking out of the front door for the last time.

you didn’t leave a note, your key and a pacifier on the kitchen counter was the only goodbye that he would get from you.

you were thankful that landon was a heavy sleeper. he barely stirred as you buckled him into his car seat or shut the door. you put in your mother’s home address before putting your car in reverse.

you were almost to colorado when your phone started ringing, his name popping up at the top of your screen. you couldn’t block him until you stopped for breakfast, not reading any of the texts he had sent or listening to any of the voicemails he left.

landon laughs as you feed him a bite of pancake, throwing a crayon on the ground. you set your phone down and look at him with a smile, wondering how something so sweet could just make you forget everything wrong in your life.

you swallow, “why do you think that i left, trevor?”

“i don’t know, y/n. i’ve been asking myself that question for a week now and i can’t come up with an answer that makes sense. we were fine and then you were gone,” he looks confused and hurt, emotions that you had grown to know all too well. emotions that he himself had caused.

“you can’t be serious,” you shake your head, crossing your arms over your chest. “how long did you think i’d let it go on? or are you just that full of yourself that you didn’t even see what you were doing to us? what you were doing to your son?”

“i don’t understand-”

“when you found out about landon, you made a promise to me that you would be a father, that it would take some time, and i believed you. i left everything to follow you to anaheim when you asked me to so that we could be together as a family, but it was the worst mistake that i have ever made,” you go quiet as your coffee is sat in front of you. you don’t touch the sandwich. “you genuinely can’t think that i was going to stay with the way that you were behaving.

“you have a child, trevor. you can’t just come and go as you please. every decision that you make, it affects him even when it doesn’t seem like it. that was something that i had to learn quickly.

“i was eighteen when he was born. i missed out on my entire senior year and going to college with my friends to raise him and i didn’t complain, not once. you got to have a senior year. you got to go to college without having to worry about someone else. you were one-track-minded on playing hockey, but that should’ve changed the moment that you found out about landon. instead, you decide to fuck off with your friends to new hampshire instead of going to your son’s doctor’s appointment and you didn’t even tell me. i had to find out from your mom when you wouldn’t answer my phone calls, trevor,” you scoff, looking at the wall behind him, “i should’ve backed out then.”

“i’m twenty years old, y/n,” he looks at you like he was shocked at your admission. “i want to go out and have fun.”

“and you think that i don’t? you aren’t understanding, trevor. we have a child. he depends on us. we can’t just run around and be kids anymore, we have a gigantic responsibility. you don’t get to stop being a parent just because going out with your teammates is more fun. believe me, i would love to go out with my friends whenever i wanted to, but i can’t.”

“i have to establish myself-”

“was it worth losing your family?” you ask and he freezes. you raise an eyebrow, “was going out for drinks and to play video games with your teammates worth losing your family, trevor? i want to know.”

“what do you mean ‘losing my family’?”

“did you think that i was going to come back and pretend like nothing happened? that we could just go on with our lives?” he gives you a ‘duh’ look. “i know you. if i did come back, you would keep doing the same shit and we would keep fighting. it’s a vicious fucking cycle and that’s not the environment that i want my son to grow up in and you shouldn’t want that for him either.

“i promise that i’m not going to keep him from you, i would never do that. i know that you love him and he loves you too, but i think that it’s in his best interest that we don’t play pretend because that’s going to mess him up in the long run.”

“so that’s it then?” he asks.

“the only thing changing is that i’m not going to be there when you get home-”

he interrupts you with an annoyed look, “or that we’re together.”

“were we ever together? or were we just fuck buddies who put on a show for everyone?” you ask and he avoids your eyes. “deep down, you have to know that we’re no good for each other and this is for the best. i’m not trying to hurt you, but you’re not ready for this and that’s obvious.”

he watches you as you push your chair back and grab your things, “what do you want me to do then? if you’re staying here.”

you spare him a final glance as you shrug your shoulder, “trevor, what i want is for you to figure your shit out, but i’m just tired of waiting for you to do it. you wanted your freedom and i’m giving it to you. have fun, trev. be twenty. that’s what you’ve always wanted to do anyway and now you don’t have us to worry about anymore.”

though you weren’t even sure that he ever did.

#trevor zegras #trevor zegras imagine #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #anaheim ducks #my work

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purple-dahlias · 3 years

Note

“What’s the point?” for recovering!au?

thank you for the request! sorry this has taken such a long time to get out, but it’s here now!

trigger warning for eating disorders, relapse and hospitals

“You heading for the OR?” Connor asks, falling into step beside Ava as they exit the lifts together.

“Yep,” confirms Ava. “Got another CABG scheduled. Been almost practically back to back all afternoon. How about you?”

“Surprisingly, I’m free now. Patient cancellation.”

“Lucky you,” Ava grins as her phone pings in her pocket.

Taking it out, her eyes scan the notification, smile dying on her lips.

“Ava?” Connor asks, concern filling his voice as he eyes the expression on Ava’s face.

“It’s Sarah,” she manages, the words heavy in her mouth. “She collapsed in the ED.”

“Again?” Connor remembers the last time this happened, a little over four months ago.

Ava nods, knowing exactly what Connor is thinking. “I have to go,” she says finally. “Could you—“

Connor doesn’t let her finish her sentence.

“Go,” he says, placing a hand over her shoulder. “I’ll take your surgery.”

“Thank you,” Ava whispers, gratitude in her eyes as Connor waves her thanks away, nudging her gently back in the direction of the lifts.

“Let me know how she’s doing, yeah?” She hears him call as she steps into the lift, anxiety filling every inch of her.

The last three or so weeks had been insanely busy, for both Ava and Sarah, what with the way their shifts had worked out. It had meant in the end the two had always ended up missing each other, with one leaving as the other arrived, or one returning when the other was preparing to go. And with that, there had been little communication, other than perhaps a passing hello in the corridor, a kiss goodbye, or a hug before having to get out of bed at some ungodly hour. So having this knowledge, and with what she had just learnt, Ava knew this was a red flag. She knows almost exactly why Sarah had collapsed, and it’s hard for her not to blame herself.

Maybe, she thinks, if she had made more of an effort to ask, had paid more attention, had passed over some of her surgeries or post-ops to Connor, anything so that she could have been there more, she might have seen the signs.

She hopes, oh how she hopes she is wrong, and that this is completely unrelated, and that she is blowing this out of proportion, that there is some other, alternative reason.

But she just can’t shake the sick feeling that pools in her stomach as she exits the lifts beyond the Emergency Department.

She’s wracking her brain, trying to think of any rhyme or reason why this could have happened, if indeed it is what she thinks it is: the thought she just can’t seem to rid her mind of, the one that she keeps coming back to.

“Where is she, Maggie?” Ava asks, on seeing the charge nurse.

“Treatment four,” she hears, and doesn’t stick around for any more, heading straight there, heart beating at what she knows is well beyond the normal rate.

Ava pulls back the curtain to find April adjusting an IV line, while Natalie scrolls through what must be Sarah’s test results on her iPad, concern written across her face.

But her eyes fall on Sarah, lying there, looking so small and frail in her hospital gown.

“What happened?” Ava demands, and April leads her outside, just beyond the curtain, with Natalie following.

“Natalie called her down for a consult. Things were okay until she collapsed right there in front of the patient. Scared us all half to death,” April informs her softly.

“You might want to see these,” Natalie says, and Ava doesn’t miss the sadness in her tone as Natalie hands her the tablet.

It’s just what she had thought they would show, and Ava shakes her head, blinking back tears as she sees how much damage had been done, how much progress had been reversed in just 3 short weeks.

“According to her charts it looks like she’s missed her last two appointments with Dr Richardson. Did you know things were bad with her?” Natalie asks, a hand to Ava’s shoulder, and Ava feels like the worst person in the world.

“No,” she hears herself say, though it doesn’t sound at all like her voice.

This is all your fault. If you had paid more attention, this wouldn’t have happened.

“Ava,” she hears Natalie, noting how the doctor had switched to the voice she often heard her use with paediatric patients. “None of this is your fault.”

It’s as though she can read her mind.

“But it is. Sarah is supposed to be my responsibility,” Ava hates the way her voice sounds, broken, as she runs a hand through her hair.

“Some things you can’t control,” April says beside her. Ava knows she means well, but it’s all just wrong and backwards. Because for Sarah, this was all about control. Ironic, really.

“For now,” Natalie begins, that coaxing voice back, “you should just be with her.”

Ava just nods, letting the curtain fall behind her as April and Natalie take their leave.

She takes a shuddering breath and drags the stool to Sarah’s bedside, where she sits, taking hold of the thin, limp hand of her girlfriend.

“Ava?” Comes a voice, weak beside her, and Ava swears that if she wasn’t a cardiothoracic surgeon, she would have thought her heart had stopped.

“I’m right here, Sarah,” Ava tells her, squeezing her hand gently.

“Where am I?” Sarah asks, a little groggily.

“In the ED. April said you fainted.”

“Oh,” returns Sarah, her voice small, panic filling her face as she notices the IV line in her hand.

“Hey, hey, relax,” Ava croons, taking hold of both Sarah’s hands when she sees how distressed she is. “It’s just some fluids to help give you your strength back. You need them, okay bokkie,” Ava continues, using the pet name.

“No, I don’t! What’s the point?” Sarah cries out, every word punctuated with an agony that pierces Ava’s very soul.

“Nothing I do will work and I’m just so tired. I’m a psychiatrist. I know this is bad! I shouldn’t be having this problem. Ava you know I try, but…” Sarah trails off, and Ava can’t help but notice the way Sarah runs a finger over her clavicle, a subconscious habit she had.

“Sarah, I can’t even begin to imagine how hard this must be for you,” Ava begins after a pause. “But—“

“Then don’t,” Sarah grits out, harshly, cutting Ava off. “Please, Ava, just go,” Sarah practically begs, bunching up the thin bed sheets and turning to face away from her.

Ava sits there, a few moments longer, until it becomes clear that this won’t be going anywhere, that Sarah isn’t ready to talk.

Twisting her hands, she lets out a sigh she hopes is mostly silent.

“Okay,” she says, willing the heaviness in her voice not to be too pronounced. Ava stands and moves to adjust Sarah’s pillow just how she likes it, the only way she can think of right now to give Sarah a little more comfort. “But Sarah,” Ava gently tells her, “I’m here for you, okay. No matter what. Please know that.”

There’s no response. Not even a shift in the bedsheets. And if the machine monitoring Sarah’s vitals wasn’t still beeping quietly in the background, well, Ava doesn’t want to give much rise to that particular thought.

With a final kiss to the top of Sarah’s head, a last attempt to let her know she is here, Ava turns to leave, drawing the curtains back around Sarah.

“Well?” Natalie asks her from her position at the nursing station, breaking away from a conversation with Maggie.

Ava just shakes her head. She doesn’t know quite what to say. What does one say? Besides, Ava really doesn’t wan to have to talk right now. With anyone. All she can think about is how much she had let Sarah down. How she should have been paying attention. And now she couldn’t even get Sarah to talk, much less get to the bottom of what triggered this.

It’s windy up on the balcony, and the evening is drawing in as Ava stares out onto the city of Chicago, a hundred thousand lights twinkling below. There’s still no more word from Sarah herself. Only that Ava can gather loud and clear she wants to be left alone. Which is especially hard to know.

“Hey,” a voice says beside her, making Ava jump. The fact she didn’t even hear him coming is a telltale sign something is wrong. Ava normally never misses anything.

“Your CABG went off without a hitch,” he begins lightly, trying to gauge Ava’s mood.

“Wish I could say the same about other things,” Ava deadpans, staring off into the distance, her focus on nothing in particular.

“How’s Sarah?” Connor frowns, leaning against the railing.

“Nat messaged to say she’s being transferred up to a bed to stay overnight for observation. She still doesn’t want to see me.” It comes out a little cold, detached. And honestly, Ava’s just feeling more than a little numb right now, so that assessment it’s about right.

“She’ll come ‘round,” Connor assures, putting an arm around Ava, who leans into him.

“Ooh my ears are burning,” comes a familiar voice from behind.

“Oh, hey Nat,” Ava manages a weak, sort of washed-out smile.

“How are you holding up?”

How was she? How did one answer that? How was someone dealing with all of this supposed to be?

Connor’s phone buzzes, breaking the silence.

“It’s Latham,” he says, checking.

“You’d better go,” Ava tells him, grateful for the diversion.

“It’s gonna be okay, Aves. You’re gonna get through this. You both are.”

“Thanks,” Ava sniffs as Connor pulls her into a tight hug, wanting desperately to believe his every word.

And then he’s gone.

“How’s Sarah,” Ava asks, eyes trained on the spot Connor had just vacated. She’s almost afraid to hear the answer.

“Pretty much the same. I’ve paged Dr Charles though. I hope you don’t mind?”

Ava shakes her head sadly. “Maybe he’ll have better luck than me.”

“Oh, Ava,” Natalie hums, holding her close, up there on the balcony. She doesn’t even care that Nat is probably using some of the tactics she uses on kids down in the ED. Because all Ava wants to do is believe things will be okay.

��How about I drive you back to yours so we can grab some things for Sarah?” Natalie suggests, filling the silence, smoothing Ava’s hair.

Ava agrees with a small nod. That seems like a logical suggestion. And in any case, she’s not sure she should be driving herself anywhere right now.

“Great,” Natalie says softly, her arms still safely around Ava. “And Ava, I promise you: everything will work out. It may not seem like it right now, but it will.”

There’s a fierceness in her voice, and Ava just clings to her. She wants to believe her. Wants it to be true with her whole heart. Because it has to be.

#recovering!au #my aus #sarah reese #ava bekker #they're both going through it #connor rhodes #natalie manning #april sexton #chicago med #reesker #asks #buiscitsandbooks #mutuals #eating disorder tw #hospitals tw #tw ed #my writing

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aragima · 4 years

Text

hannibal questions! 🍖🔪

@nietzscheantrout @horrorlesbians and @hanniba1 wanted me to answer these hannibal questions and i wrote too much but oh well! thanks to all 3 of you ilu!!!

favorite episode and why: oh we’re just goin straight to the hard questions huh um OKAY so i think i can only do an ep a season - s1: SORBET SUPREMACY! you get to see the exact moment will looks at hannibal and thinks “.........shit. it’s him isn’t it. he’s The One. SHIT.” and that is so important to me - s2: this one is really hard maybe naka-choko? it’s so fucking gay and sexy. but tome-wan... but mizumono............ yeah idk - s3: torn between digestivo and the wrath of the lamb cuz they both hurt SOOO good much; i love will breaking up with hannibal and hannibal manipulating the situation so will can’t leave asldkjansk it’s so toxic we have to stan..... and for twotl i mean do i really have to give a reason every scene LIVES in my mind and it contains my favorite shot in the whole show:

that is LOVE baby! that is DESIRE! that is being ENTHRALLED!!!!

least favorite episode and why: i feel like they’re all so necessary that it’s kind of impossible to say but probably antipasto. i get sick of hannibal and bedelia’s shenanigans really quickly and as much as i hate to admit it... i miss will. i also think it was an extremely weak season opener and i blame it for getting the show canceled sjshshsgsg the resentment...

favorite side character: chiyoh or jimmy or actually wait— RANDALL TIER 🖤

if you could bring back one character who died, who would it be?: RANDALL FUCKING TIER. i want there to be a weird thing with him and hannibal and will going on. but also i love what his death did for will so idfk, other than him it’s gotta be beverly

dish prepared in the show that you would like to try eating/making: i was supposed to make hannibal’s osso bucco recipe like 3 weeks ago but it completely slipped my mind so i guess i’ll get on that my next grocery trip

which side character would you kill off?: chilton just because for god’s sake just let the man DIE ALREADY poor guy <- i’m taking ava’s answer because YEAH

was there any scene that you didn’t like to look at?: nah. the skin ripping scenes at the beginning of either kaiseki or sakizuki (idk i don’t remember, i hardly watch s2a) are particularly brutal but i tough it out

biggest ship: i mean do i even have to say

why did you start watching hannibal?: my wife, who was my girlfriend at the time, and her dad were watching it as it was airing and i was like “oh cool hannibal lecter origin story” but due to inconsistent access to the episodes i would just watch it randomly and that is... not the way to watch hannibal. i gave up around the end of s2 but knew hannigram was It regardless. i decided to watch s3 for the first time earlier this year just to have finished it and was like HOLD UP and did an immediate rewatch that left me... well, how i am now

favorite hannibal fic if you’ve read any?:

oh boy. yall ready for this? all of these can be found on ao3 obviously (i’m so sorry this is so long but i guess i’ve been asked to put together a fic rec anyway)

as soft, as wide as air by blackknightsatellite, the ladders series by emungere, blackbird by emungere, consenting to dream series by emungere, taken for rubies by emungere, at first meeting by emungere, protect me from what i want by @alienfuckeronmain, god of the cold, cold wars by highermagic, the abyss smiled back by highermagic, pomegranate seeds by highermagic, absolute zero by highermagic, in the truly gruesome do we trust by sidnihoudini, TKO by sidnihoudini, oh dear by lunarwench, each according to its kind by chapparral_crown, a flood in our hearts by nanoochka, let me sinful be by darlingred, uncomplicated by stratumgermanitivum & youaremydesign, good bones by @damnslippyplanet, like they do in babylon by @damnslippyplanet, your obedient servant by kareliasweet, past our satellites by shotgunsinlace, only the tender meat by isagel, the shape of me will always be you by missdisoriental, a white-walled room by rodabonor, spleen et idéal by rodabonor, the paper doll series by rodabonor, a common point of interest by rodabonor [i do NOT like a/b/o stuff but if i did... it’s this fic], just thought you should know by earthsickwithoutyou, the sacrificial lamb by princesskay, transcendent suffering by itsbeautiful, not something polite by moistdrippings, leave your message after the tone by onewhositswithturtles, holes in the floor of the mind by feverdreamblood, crossing caina by feverdreamblood, the archipelago series by melusine10, but seas between us braid hae roar’d by kareliasweet

have you watched any of the hannibal films?: yeah all of them except manhunter! i grew up watching silence of the lambs because my mom loved it and i went thru a big edward norton phase as a teen so i’ve seen red dragon like 10 times

have you read the thomas harris books?: no and i’m not going to lmao #fakefan

favorite murder tableau: if we’re talking just hannibal’s- the judge. if we’re talking Murder Bad But Kinda Pretty like in general probably the mushroom people or the totem

favorite blood spill: will imagining hannibal while he beats randall to death or The Gutting of Will Graham

what’re some of your headcanons?: - will is good at shibari (backed up in canon: his fishing knots, the firefly man’s full body hishi karada harness) - hannibal rarely listens to modern, non-classical music but he’s a björk fan and he saw one of her chapel performances during the vespertine era and was Moved - will listens to classic rock (zeppelin, the doors, pink floyd) with some classic country (patsy, merle, johnny) and blues (billie, muddy, bessie) thrown in. he’s also a sucker for early/mid-90s college rock/alternative/grunge - will plays the piano (because of the piano in his living room) and the harmonica (because he’s country white trash); he’s kind of shit tho - hannibal fell for will somewhere between “my thoughts are often not tasty” and “you won’t like me when i’m psychoanalyzed” (love at first sight! at last sight! at ever and ever sight!!!) - will’s circumcised, hannibal isn’t 🤪 - hannibal’s a gemini!!!! adaptable, creative, intelligent, outgoing, impulsive, etc - will’s an aquarius!!!!! analytical, a loner, temperamental, unique, compassionate, etc - will’s mom was jewish go read my fic about it https://archiveofourown.org/works/26774326 - hannibal is an agender man (tbh i think of this as canon, it’s just unstated/undefined) - hannibal can speak russian, spanish, and a teensy bit of portuguese in addition to the other languages we know he speaks (lithuanian, english, french, italian, japanese) - will speaks limited amounts of french; he learned it as a kid in louisiana - ED TW will sometimes has a Difficult relationship with food due to food instability by the way of poverty as a kid and goes through periods where it’s hard to keep himself fed, but hannibal is so good for him in that way because he keeps him from going hungry 😓 (yes this is me projecting but also it makes SENSE) - hannibal typically bottoms but THEY DEFINITELY ARE BOTH VERS and will never stops being surprised by how much he loves catching a dick. every time is like religious experience. okay? okay - they’re also both very kinky and switches but tbh.... will was made to Dom hannibal like that’s the reason he exists he could drag that old bitch around by a leash and hannibal would be in heaven HANNIBAL WOULD CALL HIM SIR - the first time they have sex hannibal comes like immediately but he isn’t embarrassed because he’s hannibal fucking lecter and hannibal lecter doesn’t get embarrassed - i have a hc for their favorite sex positions but i’m not gonna put that here because i don’t want yall calling me crazy any more than you probably already do but if you wanna know just DM me all i do is think about them fucking it’s a curse - okay no more dirty stuff abigail called hannibal “dad” on more than one occasion and it was half-joking but it also felt comfortable to her; she never thought to call will “dad” because he’s a weirdo and never knew her as much as he knew his idea of her - hannibal taught her to play piano at the cliff house - beverly is pansexual!!! - brian and jimmy kissed one time when they were drunk and they NEVER talk about it EVER - chiyoh is straight probably. i know, i know, everyone says she’s a lesbian and if she’s a lesbian to you that’s awesome! she’s a lesbian! but idk i just think she’s SO fucking straight and tbh i mourn bc that’s my wife. she could MAYBE be bicurious... - chiyoh is non-monogamous and doesn’t do serious relationships, she doesn’t like the idea of being tied to one person ever since she left the lecter castle - she helped hannibal and will escape after The Fall; she told hannibal she would continue to watch over him and i think she did, she got them a boat and got them the fuck out of there - MOLLY IS DOING SO MUCH BETTER WITHOUT WILL. SHE’S SO GLAD SHE GOT OUT OF THAT WHEN SHE DID. she has a good, long talk with alana and finds out all the shit about him and hannibal that will never told her (and it was a lot), gets drunk and burns all his shit, and then washes her hands of the whole thing; moves to a different state, gets a girlfriend, and never thinks about will again

okay i’m capping it there or i’m never gonna stop!! i’m not tagging anyone cuz i think everyone has done this by now lmao but if you’re a mutual who hasn’t and you want to just do it and say i tagged you!! mwah!!!!

#blood #long post #hannigram fic rec #hc

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vampybravo · 4 years

Text

wayhaven week: day two [a feral tenderness.]

prompt: tender

pairing: ava du mortain x zara tang

warnings: this hints and slightly details some very dark backstory bits for my detective. mentions of death and loss.

@otomefandomevents

The Detective’s apartment was like a real home. It wasn’t cluttered at all, but it was full with enough cute decorations to make it look welcoming and lived in despite how she obsessively cleaned when she was stressed. And tonight, she really was very stressed --- Unit Bravo had insisted on staying over to keep watch, by order of her mother, after a nasty incident just a few hours ago where some dickhead on the street wouldn’t take no for an answer; it resulted in him attempting to drag Zara down a dark alleyway and into a getaway car, and it had also resulted in him getting a particularly nasty black eye after the shock of the moment had faded.

And now Zara was restless and also would kill for some chocolate, and so Nat had offered to accompany her to the store. The apartment door had closed with a gentle click, and a quiet had settled in the apartment. It was gradually growing darker outside as the sun set over the horizon, casting a warm glow over the sleepy little town, and so Zara had dimmed the lights and turned on her fairy lights instead. The only sounds heard were that of the television which was set on low-volume, Farah’s leg kicking off the bottom of the expensively velvet sofa she was seated in, and Morgan’s occasional puff of a cigarette.

“Oh,” said Farah with a small frown when her foot suddenly connected with something underneath the couch. Something hard and something solid. The confusion faded quickly though, and was quickly replaced by a mischievous glint in her amber eyes. Curious excitement clawed at her until she quickly clambered off of the sofa and onto the floor, on all fours, to peer underneath the furniture.

“Farah,” said Ava, her confused voice cutting through the sudden silence. “What on earth are you doing?”

“Investigating,” replied Farah. She blindly stuck her arm out underneath the sofa and fished around for whatever object she had managed to kick, and grinned gleefully when she managed to grab it and pull it out onto the wooden floorboards. She positioned herself cross-legged on the floor and placed it in front of her on the detective’s fluffy rug. A box. It was a box. “It seems our detective has some secrets…”

Ava released an exasperated sigh. “Farah…” she said, the warning in her voice evident. Farah dismissed it with a wave of her hand before running her fingertips over the edges of the wooden box. It was white, and freshly coated with paint. At least, it looked it --- she supposed it wouldn’t get much wear and tear whilst being shoved underneath the couch, anyways. And then she pulled the lid off of the box quickly, eagerness shining brightly in her eyes, before her smile faltered.

“What the---”

She was cut off by Ava grabbing the box from her, fully intending to re-seal the object and place it back in its rightful place, except she found herself to be just as surprised as Farah was once she caught sight of what was inside.

A tiny, tiny, white baby onesie was placed in there, along with other items; an ultrasound scan picture, a cut lock of hair sealed inside of a tiny glass box, and another, smaller wooden box, with a plaque on the front, engraved with a name: Vivienne.

Ava clenched her jaw and frowned before quickly snatching the lid out of shocked Farah’s still hands, putting it back on top of the box, and shoving it under the sofa. But it was too late.

The detective and Nat stood in the doorway; Nat had moved a little more into the apartment, oblivious to the girl’s utter shock as she stood, frozen, in the doorway. All the detective could see was Farah’s hands grasped around the box --- her box --- and Ava putting it back where it came from. And then she could distantly hear Ava snapping at Farah through the ringing in her ears about touching things that weren’t hers, and Nat was asking what was going on, and Zara had no fucking idea what to do.

“I---I didn’t mean---” Farah stammered, unusually flustered and panicked for the young vampire, before she finally caught sight of the detective in the doorway. Her eyes grew wide. Ava’s expression once again turned into shock. (If it wasn’t for the context of the situation, Zara was certain that she wouldn’t have been able to hold back a laugh at the way Ava’s lips parted and eyes widened considerably.) Nat, thankfully, hadn’t seen the contents of the box --- neither had Morgan from her place crowded into a corner.

Zara bit the inside of her cheek before managing to move. She closed the door behind her and made her way into the kitchen without a second glance at the living room. Unfortunately, her apartment was open-plan apart from her bedroom, and so it was really fucking hard to do. She wordlessly switched on the coffee machine and watched it grow alive, listening to the gentle whirring it made, desperately hoping for it to drown out everything that had happened. And maybe even erase it completely.

It was an awful lot to ask of a coffee machine, really.

She opened a cupboard and grabbed a white mug. Not her favourite. Her favourite was in the dishwasher --- had it finished yet? --- no. She placed it under the coffee machine. Her head throbbed with her own heartbeat when Ava cleared her throat.

“Detective,” she said, and tried to sound stoic, but Zara could hear the concern in her tone. Zara tried to drown it out as the machine poured out her drink. She stirred. Ava tried again. “Detective.”

Zara went straight into her bedroom, closed the door behind her, and let herself slide down it, tucking her knees up to her chest and breathing shakily. She shouldn’t be acting like this --- not in front of Unit Bravo, anyways. But they also shouldn’t have found out. She had kept the secret well enough for years and had killed any surfacing rumours with harsh glares and an intolerance to the gossip. They weren’t supposed to know, she repeated in her mind. Why do they have to know?

Her shuddering breaths were the only thing she could hear for quite a while, until the panic and shock dissipated into anxiety and shame. It clawed and crawled its way up into her guts, bubbling furiously, threatening to spill right out of her. And it did. She cried for a long time --- she didn’t know exactly how long. Maybe a few hours. Maybe just half an hour.

The sky was enveloped in vast darkness when she managed to hold back her choked sobs, wipe her eyes with some tissues, and turn on her record player. The scratching sound was familiar. The sound of the smooth music echoing around her room was comforting. It was okay. It was going to be okay.

Was it?

She was sat cross-legged on her bed when there was a knock on her bedroom door. Her chest tightened with the returning panic. “Zara?”

Ava. It was Ava.

Her panic abated; just like that.

“Yeah?”

The door opened swiftly and there she stood, but not for long until she moved and closed the door behind herself. Zara blinked. “I came to see if you were alright,” said the woman. Her blonde hair, usually pulled up into a tight bun, was slightly mussed. Two strands of hair fell at either side of her face, framing the soft lines of her cheekbones. Her brows were furrowed with concern. “And to apologise for what happened.”

Zara shrugged bitterly. “It’s not your fault.”

Ava stared at her for a long while, gaze softening as she watched Zara tuck her hair behind her ear and attempt to give her a smile. It was soft and made Ava’s stomach churn with foolish fluttering. She cleared her throat and tried to bury the feeling --- she had been unsure of whether to check up on Zara for hours now as the memories of the last time they’d been alone together in this room burned brightly in her brain. That memory made her heart flutter, too.

“Regardless,” said Ava, “I’m truly sorry.”

Zara nodded before she paused. “You don’t have to just stand there, you know,” she said, and her voice was small. “I don’t bite.”

An amused smile curled Ava’s lips, eyes glinting but still shining with worry. Wordlessly, she walked across the room and sat stiffly at the edge of Zara’s bed. Zara leaned back against the plush pillows and watched her before she broke the silence.

“Is Farah okay?”

Ava blinked. “I believe she is,” she said. “Although concerned.” She tried her best to stop the way her stomach churned at Zara’s soulless tone, or the lingering touch of hurt that shone in her eyes. Despite herself, Ava felt the determined urge to do something, anything that would provide even the slightest ounce of comfort to the detective. Her mind ran blank. Maybe some coffee, or---

Zara averted her gaze to stare up at the ceiling. “I heard shouting.”

“Yes.” The word was stiff. She wasn’t very good at this sort of thing.

“Do you hate me?”

The shocked expression on Ava’s face was too quick to be hidden. “Why on earth would I hate you?”

Zara shrugged again. “You saw what was in the box, yeah?”

Ava’s jaw clenched. “Yes,” she admitted. “Although I was simply trying to stop Farah from rummaging through your belongings --- which she called investigating.” Her words were tempered with their usual sharp edge of disapproval, but it was different this time.

The dark-haired woman didn’t seem to listen. She never did like to take no for an answer; it was one of the many traits that Ava couldn’t help but admire about her. Her fierce determination, her unwavering ambition, her ferocious tenderness that was reserved just for Ava, just for their moments alone like this. “I wouldn’t blame you for hating me.” She laid herself vulnerable, over and over. She would regret this in the morning.

“I couldn’t hate you if I tried,” confessed Ava, and the tone she used was the gentle one that made Zara’s heart swell, her stare so soft it almost made her melt under it. Zara swallowed thickly, trying to suppress how she was often reduced to nothing but raw, uncaged tenderness whenever Ava was around. Ava was doing the very same, Zara could tell, by the familiar way the blonde woman wavered under her softer stare, shifting and shying away from it, shielding herself once more. Something about the tenderness of the night made it near impossible for Ava to preserve her walls and her dignity, and so she gave in, again and again and again, as she always did. The quizzical thing was how Zara managed to always make her want to give in; to shatter her own safeguards, if even for a moment, and follow her light. She wondered if it would be safe. She wondered if it would feel as warm as Zara’s skin did on hers. Yes, she thought to herself. Without a doubt. And there was that foolish fluttering in her chest once more.

“Have you?” asked Zara.

There was a heavy pause.

“Every day,” said Ava.

And gosh, she wished she could.

#wayhaven week 2020 #ava du mortain #twc #the wayhaven chronicles #my detective and ava share a somewhat soft moment after her backstory is revealed #it's slightly very heavy #i apologise #angst angst angst #female detective/ava du mortain #detective/ava du mortain #ava x zara

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littleredroseonthevalley · 4 years

Text

Avoidance

Summary: Emma is avoiding Mason for weeks. He is not going to let it rest.

Rating: K+ - Suitable for more mature childen, 9 years and older, with minor action violence without serious injury. May contain mild coarse language. Should not contain any adult themes.

Words: 3600

Notes: Excuse me saying, but my version is better than PB’s. I like Mason, but mostly because I want to like him, not because he is that likeable. The story has some potential, and the character does too. Hope y’all like it, too.

Emma had loved Mason for a long, long time. She could not even remember how long it has been. Perhaps it was ever since she first met him at kindergarten, at the tender age of four, before she even knew how to read, much less what love was. Perhaps it was later, but the point is, she could hardly picture her life without him in it, and for the most part, she did not have to. He was always there.

She started to notice she was having feelings for him because, one day in middle school, she began stuttering with nerves when she talked to him, suddenly sit up straight when he was around, she smiled more when he was in the room.

Around that time, Mason would always sit beside her; he was always involved in her conversations. Sometimes she would notice him staring at her. He even gave her one of his sweaters to wear in the Winter. It was warm and soft and smelled like him.

“Looks better on you than me.” He said, gingerly, grinning at the way the sleeves would end long past the tips of her fingers and the bottom of the sweater would reach her mid-thigh.

Why does she like Mason, you might ask? At first glance, he had lots of desirable qualities, he was handsome and athletic, all the straight girls in their grade wanted him, and while Emma was not immune to those charms, that was not what elicited that kind of feeling on her.

She loved him because he was her friend, he was full of life, energetic, funny, kind. She knew him inside out and saw every little flaw, from the zit scar on his right cheek to his tendency to be entitled, but somehow it made she love him more.

For all of their time together, for every afternoon at their treehouse, for every sleepover in middle school, for every heart to heart under the bleachers, she never told him a thing, and so she was to assume he had no idea. She was afraid of the heartbreak, she thought it was going to tear her apart, so she kept to herself, waiting for a sign he felt the same.

He provided plenty what one might consider to be a sign, to be fair. There were times, fleeting moments, where she was convinced maybe he did, and maybe he felt the same way, but then he would amend his behaviour with a cop-out, an assurance of his platonic intentions. He was one of her best friends, and it seemed that is what it seemed to remain forever.

Filled with a sense of dread, Emma decided multiple times to cut her losses and move on, trying her very best to push her feelings down, but soon after he would shoot a smirk her way or run a hand through his messy hair, laugh lightly or even touch her in any shape or form and then her resolve would crumble.

The status quo continued, day after day, for years. They were still friends, all through high school, they remained as close as it could get. Neither would make a move, one way or another, and so nothing would really change.

That was before, though. A lot of things happened in such close proximity, tumbling on the days leading to Summer, she does not know where she stands anymore. Not with Mason, not in life as a whole.

Emma understood her father’s pain, but he whisked her and her sister to Wyoming, away from the support networks they trusted back at home and did not provide anything in return. They were reeling from the loss, still, and then those support networks they left behind just fell apart, for both of them. Life went on, and left the Price girls behind.

She supposes she could not blame anyone else for falling for Mason, though. It had been so easy for her, after all, she does not even remember how she did it, how it all began. She did not have to think about it, it just happened and one day she realized his smile could put she into a good mood, his laugh could make her whole week.

It did not go to say that it was easy and enjoyable watching someone else fall for him, however.

Suddenly, all the closeness between them stopped dead in its track. He stopped sitting beside her, stopped talking to her as much, stopped staring and stopped lending her his sweaters.

Because, suddenly, out of the blue, he fell for her.

Ava Lawrence.

It was not as if the cheerleader was a bad person, much the opposite. Emma and Ava were good friends, and she knew all the good qualities she had, how much of a catch she was, but it hurt.

It hurt.

It hurt like nothing she had experienced before.

She could not blame him. Ava Lawrence was beautiful. She was gorgeous, smart, funny, effortlessly cool. Everything she wished she were but afraid she would never be.

Everything she tried to be.

Emma was tired of trying. Or trying to be okay. Of trying to even be their friend at this point. It hurt too much to watch them together. The way Mason’s eyes lit up as he looked at Ava, the way he smiled at her. She had witnessed them kissing too many times than she wanted to admit, her heart aching as she wished it was her.

However, it was Ava he was sitting besides, it was her he was speaking to, it was her he was staring at and it was her who was wearing his sweaters. That first time she saw her other best friend with his number jacket, Emma could swear she felt all the air leave her lungs.

At the same time, even her grip on the friendship they used to share was slipping away. She would say hello to him in the hallways and receive nothing but a friendly nod before his attention was back on his girlfriend. She would try to speak to him at lunch, but his focus was on her. She would sit beside him in classes, but went unnoticed.

It felt like he was disappearing from her. She knew how that felt, how that slow crawl towards absolute silence felt, and it was horrible. She did not think she deserved to go through that again, in such little span of time. She wanted to hate Mason for it, and she tried it, but her heart refused.

With Mason, away it went her entire friend group. It seemed as if they picked his side in a fight she did not remember having. She started feeling like an intruder in their group, a poser, she was feeling so lonely in their company.

So, she stopped trying, she stopped reaching out for them. She pulled back from her old crowd, and started hanging out with herself. Until she came across another outsider.

*_*_*_*_*

To anyone from the outside looking in, Noah Harris was nothing but trouble, someone Emma, the perfect doctor’s daughter, had no business talking to. She was not proud to say that, if it was the year before, she would have thought the same, but she would be wrong.

Yes, Noah did go through a year-long stint in juvie, for something he refused to disclose, and yes, his brother did manage to get her and her sister detained by the police, but he was nothing but a sweet boy whom she did not know what she would do without.

They began talking when she helped him catch up in the subjects he lost while he was imprisoned. Emma came to find out Noah was actually very smart, clever and witty, as well as someone light to be around, unconcerned and not at all dramatic. He was mature, hardened, and she enjoyed his perspective in life.

The more time Mason spent with Ava, the more time she spent with Noah, and it did not take long before she was reminded of how smart her newly-found friend truly was. It took less than a week for Noah to realise she had feelings for his athletic rival.

She denied it when he first asked, but then he just had this expression, of pity, of longing, that looked so much like Mason’s puppy eyes, yet they were such different people. Noah was that much kinder, that much more sensitive, and it cut her in a different way, but cut her all the same. So much so, she could not help but spill her secret.

That she had loved Mason for years, now.

Telling Noah made her feel simultaneously better and worse. Better because now she had someone to confide in and to help her getting through it, but worse because admitting her feelings made them so much more real, and that was scary.

The weeks went by, and soon the Fall season was upon them, and with it, came the Homecoming Dance. All the girls were filled with anxiety and expectation to see if they would be invited by their crushes and boyfriends.

Emma hoped against hope Mason would come out and ask her, but, as it was expected, he had asked Ava to the dance. Noah, then, took pity on her and asked her to go as friends instead. She accepted, because she liked him and appreciated him for what he wanted to do, even if she would have to ignore the sight of Mason and Ava dancing all night.

Homecoming was nice. Noah came pick her up at her house on his mother’s car, much to the chagrin of her father and delight of her sister. They arrived and were the talk of the school, the former golden girl trashing with the delinquent. They danced and it was cool, they took silly pictures and sneaked out to the roof to stargaze. Mason won Prom King and Ava was his Prom Queen, but she had not seen or talked to either of them that night.

It did not suck as much as she thought it would. She could even say she had fun.

*_*_*_*_*

The Monday after the dance arrived, and her spirits were at a months-long high.

Emma was hopeful that the year would finish in more of a hopeful note, that her difficult times were behind her.

For the following days, she saw Mason less and less, even if compared to what it was earlier in the Fall, partly due to his steady relationship, but mostly due to her conscious decision to avoid him.

Noah had tried to discourage her from a clean break. His argument was that she should not trash such a long friendship for such petty reasons, even if he really hated the guy and could not understand why she fell in love with him in the first place. Eventually, he came to realise how much it was hurting her to see Mason and Ava together, and so he began helping her avoid him whenever possible, instead.

However, in her hearts of hearts, she did not think Mason would notice, so it would not be a problem of she decided to step back. It was a reasonable assumption; he did not appear to notice for the first six months she did it. She noticed his absence greatly, of course, but she did not think he would be focused on her enough to feel her absence.

That was her mindset, up until one day when she was leaving her Chemistry class, when she suddenly found herself pressed between a wall and someone’s chest.

Her heart was beating as she looked up at the culprit, staring into the deep blue eyes of Mason Jennings.

“Why have you been avoiding me, Em?”

His voice was low and he was staring down at she with such intensity that she had to look away.

“I am not…”

“Don’t lie to me.” He interrupted her. “You’re worrying me. Why have you been avoiding me?”

His warm breath was hitting her face and she could not help but shiver, though she was not entirely sure if it was because of the Winter cold creeping from an open window in the hall or the proximity to the boy she loved.

As if he had just realized how close he was to her, as his chest was pressed against hers and his hands resting either side of her head, he stepped back a bit, pushing his blond hair out of his face as he looked at she expectedly, although a hand was resting on her shoulder as if he half anticipated she was going to run away.

Which now she thought about it, it was not such a bad idea.

“I, um... I’ve been avoiding a lot of people, not just you. You must have noticed I am not having lunch with the cheer squad. I’m just going through something and…”

“You’re not avoiding Noah.” He said softly as his hand dropped from her shoulder. A flash of hurt crossed his features but he covered it up quickly. “You’ve been having lunch with Noah. In fact, whenever I ask about you, the answer usually is that you’re with Noah.”

“He’s been helping me.”

“Why couldn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you come to me? Why Noah?” His hurt tone made she wince.

The last thing she ever wanted to do was cause him any pain. They were very close, perhaps she should not have assumed she could simply disappear and not have any implications towards him, but what else could she do?

“You’ve been kind of busy with... with Ava recently. I didn’t want to bother you.” She pressed her lips into a straight line and looked down. Suddenly her shoes were very interesting.

“You could’ve still come to me. I would’ve made time for you. We’re friends. Best friends, the last time I checked! I thought you trusted me. Not Noah, out of all people.”

“I couldn’t... I can’t tell you.” She said helplessly.

“Why?”

“I just can’t!”

“Don’t you trust me?” He whispered, that same hurt look flashing through his eyes.

“I do trust you Mason I just can’t... I didn’t think it was a good idea to come to you with this certain problem I have. You wouldn’t be able to help because even I can’t help it.” She tried to explain.

He looked like he was still fighting the hurt he felt and she sighed.

“I’m head over heels in love with you and you are in love with Ava.” She said, quietly. “And I thought I could handle it but I can’t. I can’t because it hurts too much. I love you, Mason. And it’s crazy because I’m so young, but I know how I feel and that’s it. And I know you have Ava. And that’s fine, it is, but I couldn’t be around you for a while. I didn’t think you’d notice, I never thought I…”

Her voice fades in the echoes of the empty hallway.

“You love me?” He asked, his eyes slightly wider than usual.

“Yes.”

He was silent for a while and she could feel her heart beating faster and faster.

“Mason?” She whispered. “Please... say something.”

“I’m with Ava. You know that. I like her.” He scratched the back of his neck and stayed silent for a moment and she swallowed, nodding.

Her lips trembled and she fought to keep a tear from falling, “I know... I know, and I could never be her and I wouldn’t want to get in between you both so... That’s why I’ve been avoiding you.”

“I’m happy. I am happy.” He said determinedly. “I’m taken, I can’t…”

“I know, Mase.” She said softly. “I’m sorry. I never meant to tell you. I was trying to get over you. I just... I’m going to go.”

Mason watched helplessly as her figure retreated down the hallway and disappeared around a corner.

“I loved you, Emma.” He finally admitted to the empty space where she once stood. He shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked the floor, sighing before shaking his head. “I love you.”

*_*_*_*_*

“Emma, wait up!” Noah asked as he ran to fall in line with her, as she was leaving school alone, walking back to her house. “I need to talk to you.”

It had been about a week since her and Mason had their conversation in the hallway. She had been doing her best to steer clear of him, and he seemed to be doing the same.

It was for the best.

She turned and smiled softly, which came a little as a grimace, as it often did these days. “Sure, Noah. What’s up?”

“Not here, come on. It’s important!” He pulled her by the hand to a secluded corner of the student parking lot, behind a column.

“What is it?” She asked, confused.

“I got to tell you something.” He took a deep breath and did not let her hands go, even as his were shaking slightly. “Look, these few days we spent together were great. You’re a great girl, and I like spending time with you.”

“I like spending time with you, too, Noah.” She beamed at him. “You’re the coolest person I know.”

He smirked at her. “Good. Good. Well, Emma, I like you, and before you ask, yes, I like like you. I want to go out with you. If you have me.”

“Oh.” She breathed out. “Oh. Noah, I’m really sorry, but… My heart is filled out by someone else. I care about you, and I really want you to be happy, but I am not it.”

“I see.” He said, in an even voice. “It’s Mason, then? For real?”

“For real.” The girl echoed, filled with certainty. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s OK. I just wanted to have you know.” Noah smiled, ruefully. “By the way, how has it been with him?”

“I haven’t seen him in a few days. Since...” Her voice trailed off and Noah nodded.

“I’m assuming you’ve heard him and Ava broke up?”

She came to an abrupt stop and her head whipped over. “What?!”

He shot her a cheeky grin. “Mason broke up with her. Look!”

He nodded at the general direction of a few cars over, where Ava was standing extremely close in front of Chad, another football player, whose hand was on her waist, her giggling up at him.

Her jaw dropped. “But… What is that about?”

“You know, if I were you, I’d go find Mason. I think he might have something to say to you.” Noah winked, humoured. “He’s on the football pitch.”

She frowned. “How did you know? Did he put you up to it?”

Noah laughed. “Hell no. I am serious. I just needed to make sure you were certain about Mason, and to let you know that you had options, and to show you Ava’s new boy, too.”

“Noah, I am…”

“Go get him.” Noah cut she off with a gentle nudge towards the direction of the pitch.

With a nod, she made her way to the pitch as fast as she could, before she realized it began snowing and a cold wind was picking up. She pulled her coat further around her, pushing long strands of hair out of her face as she rushed over the grass, her eyes falling on a familiar figure.

“Mason, what are you doing?” She called out.

As she headed closer, she saw him look up at her and grin. “What do you think I’m doing? Football practice!”

“It’s freezing out here, and the season is over!” She exclaimed. He leant on his tackle dummy as he watched she walk over to him. “I heard you broke up with Ava. Or, well, Noah told me and I saw her with Chad.”

He nodded, his sweat-soaked hair sticking to his cheeks as she came to a stop in front of him.

“He did, eh? Did he tell you why I broke up with her?”

She shook her head.

“Because of this.”

Suddenly he crashed his lips to hers.

It was a desperate kiss, one that made her toes curl as he dropped his helmet to the ground to grip her hips. It was mostly a clashing of teeth to begin with and she hit his nose with her own a couple of times before she both began moving in sync, ignoring how the snow was falling down around them.

He pulled away slightly, staring down at she the way she always dreamed he would, but the reality was much, much better.

He rested his forehead against her own, both of she shivering from the cold yet in no hurry to get back inside. The corner of his lips turned upwards into a smirk.

“It’s you, Emma. You’re it for me. Fuck, I love you. I have loved for years. You never seemed like you felt the same so I assumed you didn’t feel the same. You never said anything so I tried to get over you but... I couldn’t be with Ava anymore when I found out you were an option. The best option. The only option I want.”

As he leant down to kiss her again, standing with her in his arms, her clothes soaked through and her shoes filling with freezing water, Emma could not help the smile that began to creep onto her face. She had fantasised about this moment over and over again, and now… Now it was finally happening.

It was better than she could have ever imagined.

#my two first loves #mason jennings #noah harris

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edgydepressedchoicesthot · 4 years

Text

Act of Courage (Noah/MC, Lucas/MC)

Summary: It shouldn’t feel like this, after all this time. We won, didn’t we?

No, Josh realized. We didn’t.

In which a survivor contemplates what was, what is, and what could have been.

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24061654

@ladyseaheart1668, @marmolady, @it-lives-in-westchester

A/N: Between work, college, and my f*cked up head, finishing this up took a lot longer than it should have. I'm trying to make writing into my coping mechanism, so that I'll do it more, lol ;D

I have one more fic I promised on tumblr, an AME one I'm gonna work on. I'm also gonna try to go back to my ES novelization, so stay tuned for that for its continuation.

————————

The two of them were at Josh’s place, waiting for Ava, Andy, Dan, and Lucas. Lily was sick in bed and Stacy was visiting her grandma out of town, leaving Noah and Josh waiting for the four others while they drew figures in the dirt in the yard with sticks and talking about anything their minds jumped to.

“Hey, Noah?”

The boy turned towards his friend.

“Yeah?”

For a moment, Josh, who was as lively as ever seconds ago, was being uncharacteristically quiet.

“Do you…like anyone?”

“‘Like’,” Noah repeated. “Like I like you and Jane and the others? Or you mean like-like?”

“Um, yeah” Josh nodded, blushing. “Like-like.”

“Then no,” the other boy shrugged. “Stacy, Lily, and Ava are fun to hang around, but I don’t like-like anyone.”

“What about,” Josh began hurriedly, but slowed down. “What about boys…?”

“Huh?”

“Do you like-like any boys?”

Josh was beet red. Noah was just confused.

“No,” he shrugged. “I’m a boy. It’d be weird if I liked-liked a boy. That’s what my mom says though.”

“Right…” Josh looked hurt. “Right, forget it.”

Noah wanted to ask why his friend looked so sad.

He hated it when Josh got upset. Unlike Jane, who’d get mad, Josh would be quiet, pouty, and would go off by himself, refusing to ever acknowledge what made him upset in the first place.

But before Noah can say anything, the doorbell rang and their friends poured inside.

Noah forgot that Josh even asked him any question about who he liked.

It was something they’d both forget in the years to come, a memory of the conversation fading into a small feeling.

————————

After reading Lucas’s texts, Josh shoved his phone into his pocket. His smile started to fade as he continued down the road, focusing on his surroundings.

It really is a beautiful day, Josh mused.

And he hated it.

The sun shone through the trees in a way that reminded him of an image you’d find on a tourist pamphlet.

It made Josh think about how the only thing this town is good for is being fake.

Like how the town somehow fooled themselves into thinking everything was just a freak animal attack.

But the more he thought about it, Josh guessed he couldn’t blame the town for that. Having to deal with the truth might actually be more of a clusterfuck than it all happening.

It was all a question of why.

Why did this all happen to them? Why was he the one who had to find Redfield’s shack?

All he had to do was keep his goddamn mouth shut about some stupid fucking rock floating all those years ago…

It’s my fault.

Josh scoffed.

Like that’s big news.

And when it was time to pay the piper, Josh was too much of a coward to do anything…

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Josh forced himself to think about something, anything else.

His mind wandered from the date Lucas promised they’d have before he went back to his university, to that new video game Lily’s been raving about, Stacy’s latest Pictagram post about celebrating another perfect score on an exam, Ava’s latest binge on occult books in the library, Andy whining about how he just wants to be free of high school already, Dan’s updates on his new art blog…

…Noah crying, apologizing…

Josh wiped tears from his eyes as he kept walking.

————————

Noah always envied Josh.

He was a charismatic go-getter where Noah was shy and bookish. Josh always got stickers that came with having a perfect score on spelling tests, ones that Noah just passed by never more than five points. Josh was brave enough to make the first move in befriending him and Jane, and began their circle of friends the same way.

Noah not only hated how he was too wimpy to ever say any of this out loud, but also that he held this kind of resentment towards one of the best friends he’s ever had.

Noah hated how nervous he feels around Josh too. How he can’t help but constantly compare himself to him.

Josh was like the sun; radiant and bright and impossible to miss, and Noah had felt like the grimy earth beneath it.

But everything changed after Jane died.

Their whole group of friends changed. They started to see each other less and less, and eventually, they never saw each other outside of school.

Having different classes in middle school widened the gap between them, leaving silent nods as the last bit of interaction they had.

Soon, even those were gone.

Even after they all fell apart, Noah couldn’t help but notice Josh.

Before, Noah had always seen Josh happily chatting with at least one person.

Now, Noah never saw him hang out with anyone ever again. He was like the dusty remains of a star that went out.

There were times Noah wanted to reach out, to see if they could be friends again, to hang out, laugh together, be together-

-and Noah would stop himself when he came short of any reason Josh would want to talk to him.

————————

“You look like shit.”

“Hello to you too, Ava.”

Josh was semi-thankful that his shift at one of the town’s few fast food places started early in the morning. Only a handful of people stepped in here for breakfast, and none of them were impossible to deal with. So, for a few hours, Josh could enjoy a bit of peace before the lunch rush.

And it was always good to see a friendly face.

“Alright, fuck the pleasantries then.”

Usually.

Ava stretched her hand at Josh and waved it dramatically.

“In the name of the Dread Goddess Hekate, get me my usual.”

Josh punched in the register an order for an apple pie and a milkshake.

“That’ll be $2.78.”

Wordlessly, Ava hands him money and Josh went in the back to get her order.

“Talked to Tom today,” Ava said. “He looked really interested in the stuff I found in Cora’s shack. Maybe he can be my apprentice or some shit.”

“A witch’s apprentice?”

“Turned him down. Teaching is a rock bottom I’ll never hit.”

“Cuz the teacher’s at school we sooo great.”

“You get it.”

Josh finished up, pie in a paper bag and milk in hand.

“So, you talk to people,” she asked before he held out her order. “You’re social like that. Everyone’s gonna be at the memorial tonight, right?”

“Yup,” Josh nodded. “All seven of-”

Josh stops himself, remembering what happened to the seventh.

Ava’s face went steely, and for a moment it looked like she had a lot to say.

“Hand me my order,” she sighed. Josh obliged.

Before Ava walked out, she stopped and did a half turn. Josh sees several shifts to and from anger and sympathy.

“Tale care,” she said before leaving.

————————

Noah couldn’t remember the last time he and Josh talked.

So, when Josh sat next to him at the pep rally, he hoped his quietness came off as indifference, and hid his anxiety about the whole situation.

Josh didn’t seem to mind, since he started talking semi-comfortably. He was mellower and less gloomy than he used to be, and Noah felt the familiar jealously that was always the third companion amongst the two.

The pep rally ended after the blackout, Josh called everyone to meet after school, and four of them were stocking up on makeshift weapons.

When Josh told Noah that he won’t leave him again, he let himself believe it.

Noah halfheartedly thanked Josh, and for a second was afraid his sort-of-friend would take offense.

But instead, Josh smiled at him, and Noah felt like he was looking at sunshine.

A warm feeling bloomed in Noah’s chest, and it stuck around even when they were done talking and gone back to looking for weapons.

Noah remembered the warm feeling later on, when he noticed how Josh’s face was red when he was close enough to Lucas, how he stammered a bit more when the two were talking.

Noah wasn’t as dumb as he was as a kid. He knew that Josh liked Lucas. He also didn’t want to believe he was feeling jealousy, because of what it implied.

It wasn’t until during Britney’s party that Noah started to ask himself where these feelings for Josh came from. Was it sometime after everyone drifted apart, and their absence leaving an ache in his heart? Or was it before, when they were younger, innocent, and still friends?

After the party and after Josh revived his hope for the future (something he’d been doing well the past few days), his own personal devil reared its shadowy head, and signaled the end.

In the near future, while they were all forced to play the game again, Noah would wonder if anything could have happened to keep this whole mess from happening.

If he just told Redfield to fuck off, or just ignored him (no, her).

————————

“In school,” Andy said with a mouth full of pizza. “You froze up every time you had to present something. And up there, you didn’t break a sweat.”

Josh was taken by surprise when Stacy’s mom called him up to say a few words (he didn’t even think the town’s mayor even remembered his name). Surprisingly, where there was usually quick breath and sweating, there was just emptiness.

His mind flashed to Cora when he was up, about how she risked her life to help them and went to warn them while she was injured and dying.

And then it went to Noah.

He kept his part about Noah as brief as possible, and stepped down the second he gave his last “thank you”.

Josh would like to say that Lucas’s hug and quick kiss after the memorial made him feel better, but after talking about Noah, he couldn’t shake the feeling like he was betraying him.

“I get a lot of speech practice when dealing with customers from hell,” Josh finally answered, shrugging.

“You mean Ava?” Andy snarked.

“Andy, don’t be mean,” Lily scolded

“You think I take offense to that?” Ava grinned evilly. “I go there on the weekends.”

Josh finished his Graveyard, and turned to Lucas, right next to him.

“Bartender, one more.”

“One for me too,” Stacy smirked, wiggling her empty cup.

“I think you’ve both had enough,” Lucas said in mock seriousness.

“How can you stand to drink those?” Tom asked. “I almost hurled taking a sip!”

“That’s it, you’re dead to me,” Stacy pouted theatrically.

“Aw, come on,” Lily nudged Stacy with her shoulder. “We all just pledged our eternal devotion to each other five minutes ago!”

And just managed to avoid talking about Noah…

Noah could be here. Right now.

Maybe not here though. The others might still hate him, maybe not, but at least he’d be alive. Maybe everyone would even slowly come to stop hating him.

He could find a way to pay for culinary school. He could open up the diner he talked about…

And I wish I could just stop thinking about those last moments…

Josh has vague memories of blushing and being embarrassed around Noah when they were younger, but he didn’t think it had meant anything.

Every time Josh started thinking about his...crush, if he could call it that, he’d just start thinking of Lucas, and guilt of betrayal would stab at his gut.

Josh’s eyes drift over to Dan, who’s been silent the whole time, aside from giving halfhearted laughs and accepting Graveyard refills…

…along with bringing up the one who’s been on Josh’s mind for a while.

“Well…not the whole group.”

Josh remembered that this night would end, and that everyone would go back to dealing with their trauma.

Not alone. Please for the love of god not alone.

He felt like some kind of traitor again, for feeling this awful around people with whom he should be happy.

It shouldn’t feel like this, after all this time. We won, didn’t we?

He remembered the panic attack he talked Lily through by phone after Britney called him, begging for help. He remembered Ava’s blank face as the signs of a flashback started to show. He remembered the bags under Stacy’s eyes as she drank more coffee than was healthy. He remembered the late night texts from Andy faking small talk when he couldn’t sleep and needed some anchor to reality. He remembered the way Dan finally admitted with tears that he wasn’t fine, was anything but fine.

And he remembered seeing the thing that used to be Noah in the ruins, looking back at him with those white eyes before vanishing.

No, Josh realized. We didn’t.

————————

Seconds ago, Josh had gotten Noah out of Redfield’s (no, Jane’s) control as he was seconds away from being stabbed.

He goaded and taunted the monster they all feared since childhood, and fended it off with a whistle.

So this should be easy, right?

Taking Jane’s place so she could finally be free of the hell she spent nearly a decade in.

“I’m sorry, Josh,” Noah sobbed. “Please…please tell my mom-”

“Wait!” Josh said shakily. “It doesn’t have to be you!”

“Josh, please, it had to be me,” Noah begged. “Let me do this. Let me fix my mistakes.”

“NO!” he screamed. “Don’t you dare! Let me do this! Let me take her place instead!”

Except…

Josh didn’t say any of that.

He wanted to stop Noah, he wanted to so much, but no matter what, his throat wouldn’t obey.

When it mattered the most, all he could give is silence.

If the two of them were any closer, their faces would touch. Unfallen tears pooled in Noah’s eyes, filled with regret

Josh didn’t know what to do. He wanted to scream at Noah. He wanted to hug him and never let go. He wanted to punch him.

But Noah acted before Josh could.

His lips weren’t soft, but warm and gentle, and soon turn salty when tears hit their lips. Neither of them knew whose.

“I’m sorry,” Josh lost count of the number of times Noah’s apologized today. “I just…I needed to do that. Just once…”

Those are the last words Noah ever said as a human.

————————

The night ended with everyone promising to see each other tomorrow, and soon after that.

And so, here were Josh and Lucas, waiting together on a bench on the sidewalk for Josh’s mom to come pick them up and give Lucas a ride to his house.

Despite everyone parting with the unspoken promise of this goodbye isn’t for good, Josh couldn’t help that irrational fear that the opposite would be true, and they’d all fall apart over again.

“You good?” Lucas pulled Josh out of his thoughts.

“Huh?” he mumbled dumbly.

“You’re squeezing my hand pretty hard there,” Lucas shakes his hand holding Josh’s, and he finds out he’s right; Josh is squeezing Lucas’s hand like some kind of lifeline.

“Sorry,” Josh says sheepishly as he eases his grip, but Lucas gives a gentle squeeze, keeping him from pulling away.

“Hey, you’re alright,” Lucas says before Josh can apologize any more.

Josh smiled at him, not trusting himself to speak right now. Unfortunately, it just gave way to an awkward silence.

“Josh?”

“Yeah?”

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” Lucas asks.

“What…” do you mean, Josh wanted to say, but he just didn’t have the heart to lie to his boyfriend’s face.

“I know,” Josh sighed.

And he did. But that was a different story than being able to do it.

“I’m here for you. So is everyone else. And if something’s been on your mind, we’d all listen if you wanted to talk.”

Josh wanted to.

He probably needed to.

Josh remembered Dan, how he desperately needed someone to talk to, how he needed help, and what happened after he didn’t get it (it wasn’t his fault, it was mine).

But what could he possibly say?

Is it okay for me to have lingering feelings for someone else? Someone who betrayed us and led us to a monster? Someone who’s a monster now himself? Someone almost all of you understandably hate?

There’s no way he can bring that up. Not to his friends, not to his boyfriend.

“I don’t wanna talk,” Josh sighs. “Could we just…be here…? If that makes any sense?”

“It doesn’t,” Lucas jokes. “But it’s a good thing I’m a mind reader.”

Lucas put an arm around Josh, pulling him closer.

Josh rested his head on Lucas’s shoulder and closed his eyes, enjoying his boyfriend’s presence.

In the future, when Josh finally found it in him to talk, he’d be able to go back to the cabin. Against all advice, he’d look for Noah in the shadowy figure that haunted the woods. And he’d find him. And soon after, Josh would be able to help more people who were forced into a world of monsters like he and his friends were.

#playchoices #pixelberry #it lives in the woods #fanfiction #noah marshall #lucas thomas #ava cunningham #andy kang #stacey green #tom sato #lily ortiz #dan pierce #my fics

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issabangtanfic · 5 years

Text

[Jungkook] The Windmill House (Chapter 1)

Masterlist

Synopsis: When for once rich doesn’t rhyme with Christian Grey.

Pairing: Jungkook x OC

A/N: Feel free to submit a cover! Tell me what you think in my inbox! Enjoy!

“Hello, hello, hello, hello!” I sing, trotting inside the office, waving at whoever wants to see it, too much in a rush to actually stop and greet everybody.

“Someone’s late for a meeting.” Ava, our receptionist and secretary throws at me from behind her desk , making fun of me, as always. I mean, I’m quite good at making a show out of myself, I can’t blame her.

“I forgot my bloody portfolio!” I shout in explanation, running the best I can in those heels.

“Morning Jade.. Elijah..Sam..Anthony.” I say, passing their working stations. I reach my office and circle my desk, trying to find my portfolio amongst the pile of rubbish on my desk.

For someone who makes a living out of organising spaces, I sure know how to orginize my stuff. But I’m working on It. Or at least, I plan on doing that. I find my portfolio under a pile of calendars I didn’t know I had.

When I look up and prepare to leave, Ava is standing in my doorway with her usual plate of warm pancakes that she brings every morning.

“Hi. Oh, sorry I don’t have time.” I tell her, exiting my office. She gives me a knowing smile and just stands there, knowing I’ll end up taking one.

I take a few steps back.

“Just one.” I mumble, rolling up a pancake. “Bye!”

“Maya, honey.” I hear my boss and idol, Frédérique Meunier- Fred, call me. I stop dead in my tracks with the pancake in my mouth, knowing he’s about to scold me for being late. And today is not a good day to be late. I’m late precisely for the meeting I can’t be late for.

“Yes?” I say, slowly turning around to face him. He’s narrowing one eye at me. I know I have to come back from this meeting with a contract. The client’s rich, the project’s big, and he requested me specifically.

“Are you late for the Violet Mansion meeting?” He asks, but I’m pretty sure he knows the answer to his question. Or does he? I narrow my eyes back at hm, gauging.

“Define “late”.” I try. He sighs deeply.

“You’re lucky you’re talented. Go.” He mutters, rubbing his eyes in annoyance. Fred always tells me I make him age quicker than he’s supposed to. Today I see that. I take my cue and turn around, trotting out of the office just like I came in.

“She’s something.” I hear Fred mumble to himself, and I’m pretty sure it’s a compliment.

The mansion is located outside London. It’s a 30 minute drive from the city center, where our office is. I usually work in the city, being specialized in modern luxury. This is a first for me, and I’m excited. I hope me being 45 minutes late isn’t going to be a big deal.

There is a long driveway that leads to the house, with old but huge metal gates before it. Through the bars, I can see the Violet Mansion, which is not violet at all. The building is named like that because the original owners were lavender dealers and their backyard was famous for its lavish parties in a purple see of flowers. It’s been centuries, but the name sticks.

I don’t know who the current owner is though. I just have his name. Jeon Jungkook.

I ring the intercom.

“Name, please.” A male voice slurs from the other side of the line. How about Hello? Rude.

“Maya Fair. I’m the interior designer.” I reply. I wait for an answer, but there’s just a loud buzz, and the gates open slowly. I squeeze through when there is enough space for my mini and park my car in the driveway, at the bottom of the steps that lead to the porch.

I take a moment to appreciate the monster. This mansion is old and Italian, almost immaculate with fair stones. No one would believe this jewel sits right outside London. What I love about the exterior are the two stairways that lead to the porch.

I walk up the stairs and prepare to knock on the door, when it opens on its own. I meet a tall- taller than me - asian man. He’s wearing a white shirt with his sleeves rolled up, the top buttons of it undone and letting appear a path of pearly white skin. His face is… a version of perfect. His sturdy brown eyes are pinned on me, his eyebrows furrowed and his whole being radiating with charisma.

The sight of him knocks the air out of my lungs. He is beautiful, in a dirty and disturbing way. He stares at me, clearly having no plans on greeting me first. I need to speak.

“Mr Jeon.” I try, though I could be wrong. He could be an employee, but my gut tells me he owns this place. He radiates with power. But it’s his eyes I’m mesmerized by.

“Hello, I’m Miss Fair. I’m terribly sorry for being late.” I manage to speak without my voice breaking, but I’m sure I’m betraying my mental state. I stretch my hand out, and I almost squeal when he takes it in his. He shakes my hand with his firm yet a bit clammy hand. They are warm. My heart starts to pound in my ears.

“I’m even sorrier Mrs Fair. I thought my PA had called you to tell you you didn’t need to come anymore.” He says, letting my hand go. He has an American accent.

“Oh. Are we postponing?”

“No, I gave the protect to someone else.” He counters, shoving his hands in the pockets of his trousers. That’s when I notice how well they fit him, and how they hang perfectly on his hips.

Wait what? My face falls, realisation sinking into my brain.

“Someone who was on time.” He adds when he sees my face. What?! He gave it to someone else just because I was late? He doesn’t even know what i could do with it! And he asked for me specifically. I have no way how he knows about me by the way.

For a second, I manage to forget his hypnotising looks and focus on my work and the situation at hand.

“But is he or she better than me?” I challenge, crossing my arms over my chest. “Maybe you should find out before appointing anybody for such an ambitious-”

“Punctuality,” He cuts me off, taking a step closer to me and stepping out onto the porch. My heart jumps in my throat as he gets closer. His aura engulfing me. “Mrs Fair, is something I demand from all my business partners. He lectures. I swallow, his words missing my brain. I can’t seem to look away from his face, and I start blushing when my eyes land on his mouth.

If I don’t stop right now, he’ll notice. I start remembering everything that happened this morning. I really thought this would be just like any other day, and here I am, shaking like a leaf in front of the sexiest man I’ve ever seen, who also happens to be an asshole and is about to get me fired.

“It’s professionalism, etiquette, politeness. I don’t work with people who waste my time.” He says, his tone icy. He speaks slowly but each of his words feel like a violent slap across the face.

“Even if they could do greater things than others?” I retort, because as hot as he is, I think it’s a stupid way of thinking. He narrows an eye at me, frowning. “Suddenly I’m quite curious as to how your business is doing, considering you like closing doors for petty reasons.”

“Petty.” He scoffs.

“Let me see this mansion and I’ll expose my ideas.” I propose. I’m in survival mode. His looks and the manliness he radiates with have made my head spin, but now I’m back in the game.

“With that attitude?” He scoffs at me again.

“It’s my ideas that I sell, not my attitude.” I retort. His head tips to the side and he takes a moment to study me, eyes searching on my face like lasers. They crack open my business armor, and as I try to hold his gaze, I suddenly see a point of something dangerous in his eyes. I’m the first one to look away.

“After you, miss Fair.” Mr Jeon grants me after what feels like an eternity, stepping aside to let me in the mansion. I take a few step in and wait for him to close the door, taking in the sight of this building.

If the exterior speaks in Italian, the interior screams…help. The interior is a mix of Rococo and Mediteranean designs, which looks… shocking.

The structure of the house is Italian, with white stones on the walls, wide arcs as openings, no doors, dark beige tiles on the floor, but the furniture is out of time. Everything is beautiful and pristine, bu it’s red, baroque and rococo. English rococo. English and Italy don’t go together very well. I’m hoping Mr Jeon is going to ask me to bring him to Italy with this one.

“My PA is giving a tour to the other designer.” I hear his loud voice way too close to me, enough to make me jump and snap me out of my reverie. I turn to look at him. “So you’re stuck with me for that part.”

“You called two designers for the same job?” I ask, quite shocked.

“I’ll compare your ideas, see which one I like the most.” He replies simply.

“You sure show little faith in me for someone who requested me by name.” I throw, hoping to get an explanation about that.

“My brother recommended you to me.” He declares, staring at me, then his eyes dip to my lips, and my chest, I think. “I see why, now.” He adds more quietly, before turning on his heels. My jaw drop as I stare at the back of his head. What a fucking boor!

“Excuse me?” I utter, prompting him to turn back around.

“I most certainly didn’t sleep with your brother, whoever that is.” I say categorically, glaring at him. He laughs at me, boyish and loud. His eyes get smaller and small wrinkles appear next to them, and he beams, his face radiating with light.

Now I know what a true beautiful smile is.

“Miss Fair will you please unravel your knickers,” He says to me “I was only talking about your attitude.” He explains. Oh.

“Since my brother loves to piss me off, I guess he recommended me someone just as infuriating as him.” He throws at me, and as negative as his words are, his tone, and the way his eyes twinkle, tell me it’s more of a compliment than an insult.

I dont’t dwell on it though, because I can’t think straight when he’s looking at me. I purse my lips.

“Great. Can we start discussing the project?” I prompt. His smile fades away.

“Would you like a drink?” He proposes. Actually, my mouth feels dry, because I have been internally dry-heaving ever since I laid my eyes on him.

“No, thank you.” I lie, just wanting to get on with the tour. Nodding quietly, Mr Jeon shows me upstairs and across the mansion.

“This, is where I might need you.” He says as we enter a totally different section of the building. As if another part had been attached to it like a piece of lego, the interior morphs from a patchwork of ancient style manor to a jewel of modern luxury and minimalism.

We step onto a mezzanine that gives onto a lounge area. I’m tempted to scream down the room, certain it’ll echo.

“I just bought this mansion, and it has this extension.” He explains. This place is immaculate.

Needing to keep a trace of that, I pull out my small camera from my bag and snap a quick picture. I lift my head to immortalize the diamond chandelier

“I want this,” I hear Mr Jeon say, and he puts his hand over my camera, lowering it. I look back at him, and he’s throwing daggers at me with his eyes.

”to become the whole mansion.” He finishes. I clear my throat.

“This?” I point towards the lounge area. He can’t be serious.

“Yes. I want more luminous rooms and pale colors. All that red really gets on my nerves.” He mutters, leaning against the guardrail of the mezzanine.

Why would he do that? White walls, really? Beige floor tiles? One leather sofa here and there? It looks beautiful, sure, but in its own genre. That’s not the spirit of the mansion. I thought he was going to ask me to bring back the mozzarella of this place, not turn it into a Dubai hotel.

“Why not just build another mansion?” I propose.

“Pardon?”

“You want to rob this building from its character, and that’s a shame.” I explain, and I’m too worried about that mozzarella spirit that I don’t realise I’m stepping a line.

“Why not build your own building and give it its own identity?” I propose. “And it’s not like the rest is ugly.”

“The colors and the furniture are-“

“I’m not talking about the paint, but the shape, the structure, the skeleton of this mansion.” I cut him off, needing him to understand. I love my job, but I hate that the clients have no vison, that they don’t feel what energy buildings and houses give off. This is going to be a murder.

“If that’s what you have planned for this project, I don’t want in on this.” I tell him, looking straight into his sturdy brown eyes. He frowns down at me.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” I murmur. He lags for a second, is mouth hanging slightly open, his lips parted in a way that lets me see a bit of his tongue, and that’s enough to distract me again.

“You make all this fuss for me to let you in and you give up because you like the mouldings?” He says, threat in his voice.

“Yes.” I reply sternly.

“This,” I wave towards the extension. “Is absolutely beautiful. It’s divine.” I tell him. Turning on my heels, I walk back to the place where the old building is.

“But this is the mansion we’re in.” I place my hand on the rock arc that serves as a doorway. I look back at him, hoping he’s getting what I’m saying. His face is a knot of confusion, and he looks displeased. This is pointless.

“I’m sorry for wasting your time, but I can’t murder this old guy.” I shrug, giving the arc an affectionate tap. I can’t believe I’m refusing such a project, but my heart won’t handle it. Shit, Fred won’t handle it if I come back empty-handed.

“But I can pass it to a colleague of mine. She’s phenomenal when it comes to minimalism, and Italian furniture. She’ll do fantastic.” I add quickly, almost stumbling over my words. Mr Jeon opens his mouth to talk but he’s cut off by sounds of heels treading the floor. My eyes follow the sound and I see a man and woman walking up the mezzanine in our direction.

“No need.” Mr Jeon says to me. “Miss Bingfield here is only too willing to be part of this.” He says, waving towards the middle-aged woman accompanied by another asian man. I freeze, feeling defeated.

“And she was on time.” He adds. Ouch. The woman flushes, clinging to her portfolio and battling her eyelashes at him. I look away, feeling nauseous.

“There are a few things we need to discuss, Mr Jeon.” She murmurs to him.

“Jimin, please show miss Bingfield back in my office.” Mr Jeon orders, and the guy- Jimin, as I know him now, strides past me, greeting me with a nod, followed by the other designer.

Mr Jeon strides over to me.

“I’ll walk you back to the door.” He says, his words feeling like stabs in my stomach. This is disastrous. I barged my way into this mansion by acting cocky and confidant, and know my confidence has been shattered to pieces, and I feel humiliated.

“I’ll show myself out, thank you.” I mutter, turning on my heels. I don’t think I’ll be able to handle any more time in his company.

“I insist.” I hear him say as he walks next to me. I shut him out, looking down at the floor as we walk back to the entrance of the mansion, but my head shoots up when I feel him casually put his hand on to small of my back.

A current of electricity travels through me, and I almost forget how to walk. Now It’s all I feel, the heat of his hand, through the material of my dress and through my skin, through my flesh and inside my core. I take quicker steps, my breath caught up in my throat.

What is this? Why am I like this? I completely lost my composure the second I laid my eyes on him and I fucked things up. Not only did I miss a contract, a beautiful Italian architect work is going to be destroyed and I humiliated myself in front of a man who knew I’d do just that.

I’m such a failure. Tears of frustration rise up to my eyes, making them sting. And my throat tightens and my nose starts to feel heavy with snot.

“Could I yse the bathroom quickly?” I blurt out, feeling like I’m about to lose it. Jeon stops abruptly in his steps.

“There’s one right there.” He point at a door behind me. “I’ll wait for you downstairs.“

Avoiding his gaze, I dive into the bathroom and look the door just in time, bursting into tears right after. I slap my portfolio on the vanity, angry at myself and that piece of crap who doesn’t recognise beauty. Taking deep breaths, I wipe my tears away, wanting to calm down as fast as I can.

If you want to cry Maya, you can, but get out of here first.

Checking myself in the mirror, I’m relieved to see my eyes aren’t red yet. I smooth my hair down and gently slap my cheeks, giving myself a mental pep talk. Just one more minute with him.

You go down the stairs, out the mansion, into your car and byebye sexy douche bag. You can do this.

Taking one last, cleansing breath, I assess myself one last time in the mirror. I look just fine. I walk out the bathroom and retrace my steps until I’m back at the stairs. Mr douchy is waiting for me like he said, hands in the pockets of his fine trousers.

In dead silence, he escorts me to the door, opening it for me.

“Pleasure meeting you, Maya.” He murmurs, offering me his hand. The way my name rolls off his tongue makes the hairs on my nape rise in attention.

“Miss Fair.” I correct him, shaking his hand. He gives me a knowing smile. He knows.

“Miss Fair.” He repeats, letting my hand go. “Lovely meeting you. I mean it.” He murmurs, and I act as if his wors aren’t about to make me shake like a leaf. I muster up the last bit of confidence he left in me after thiose twenty minutes.

“I’d say the same thing, but I don’t lie.” I reply on the same honeyed tone as him. He makes a surpried but subtly pleased face. The guy is having his fun right now.

“Great day to you Mr Jeon.” I mutter, turning on my heels and doing my best not tosprint away. I walk down the stairs and don’t hear the door being closed. I understand he’s stilll watching me from the porch, so I try to march as confidently as possible without turning back.

I make it to my car, and I feel safer there. I sigh deeply, leaning my forehead against my steering wheel. I want to go home. I physically sag, all strength having being drained out of me during this… whatever this was.

i joldt up when I hear a loud buzz, and see the gates slowly opening in front of me. Pulling myself together, I start the engine and squeeze through when I have enough space, driving away without any intention of coming back.

I drive back to the office, and it’s almost empty, almost everyone being gone on their lunch break. Sighing deeply, I sag agaisnt the chair of my desk, dropping my head between my hands.

How the hell am I supposed to tell Fred I lost the contract? It was almost a done deal. He requested me by name.

Fred always complains that I refuse deals because I’m ’too’ passionate about what I do. And I try, really try to work on it, but it really makes me emotional to see people ruining houses and architect work because of trends.

I absolutely love my job, I love architecture, and that’s why I want to do it properly. But can I call it proper work when I keep losing money?

“So? How did it go?” I hear Jade, a colleague of mine ask me. When I look up she’s entering my office, closing the door behind her and leaning against the door. She looks at me with shiny eyes, her lips pursed in anticipation. Even she was excited about this.

I burst into tears, dropping my head again, feeling defeated for the second time.

“Hey.” Jade croons, walking over to me. She sits on my desk, one of her hand coming down to stroke my back comfortingly.

“I’m a monumental fuck-up.” I sob, wiping my eyes only to let more tears fall out of them.

“Honey, what happened?” She asks me. I look up at her through my damp lashes.

“He gave it to someone else.” I sniffle.

“The project? Why?” She breathes, her face a knot of confusion. I sniffle.

“Because I was late.” I confess,. “And because I refused when he gave me a second chance.” I test it on her, lifting shy eyes to her face to see her reaction so I can imagine Fred’s.

“Maya.”

Hugh. I drop my head in my hands again.

“Fred is going to kill me.” I groan.

“Well, he’s out of the office all afternoon, so calm down.” She says. not denying it. He is going to kill me. Tomorrow. I have 22 hours to live. I’ll take that.

“Than man, Jeon Jungkook, he’s quite something.” I mutter.

“He’s hot, isn’t he?”

“You know him?” I shoot my eyes up at her.

“My husband works with him sometimes. He’s tough in business.” She explains. Tough in business? He’s tough period. “But hot, right?” She smirks.

I don’t reply and look away from her, not wanting to confess that just looking at him turns me into an anxious sappy puddle. My office phone rings.

Sighing, I quickly grab a tissue from the box on my desk and wipe my nose, picking up the combine,

“Hello?” I say as I take the call. Jade gives me a sympathetic tap on the back before leaving me to my business.

“Maya? Mr Jeon on line 2 for you.” Ava says from the other end of the line. What?

I thought I’d never have to deal with him again. I think secretly I was relieved he gave the project to someone else, now I’m getting nervous again just at the idea of being on the phone with him. This man is bad for my blood pressure.

I take a few seconds.

“Put him through.” I tell her before hanging up. I wait, staring at the phone on my desk until it starts ringing again. And I wait. It rings once, twice, three times, and I pick up at the fourth time.

“One second please.” I say quickly before putting him on hold. I don’t know why I’m doing this, but I want him to think I’m busy. I take his call after another twenty seconds.

“Union design and architecture, Maya on the phone, how can I help you?” I say, sounding as professional yet nonchalant as possible.

“Maya?” His voice sounds like buttery pancakes, my name in his mouth making me ball my fists as my blood rushes through my veins. I put my fist in my mouth, calming myself down.

“Who’s talking?” I pipe up.

“Well, the man whose name the receptionist told you.” He retorts. “But nice try.”

Ouch.

“What can I help you with, Mr Jeon?” I sigh. He even defeats me at my twisted mind games.

“You forgot your portfolio in my bathroom.” He informs me.

“Oh.” I say. “You can throw it away. I have multiple.” I lie. I don’t have multiple portfolios, I’ve lost them all, but I’m not meeting him again to get it back. He can have it.

“Noted. But that’s not the only reason I’m calling.” He retorts. God help me. “Do you do evenings?” He asks me.

“No, I don’t.” I lie.

“Something tells me you’re lying.”

HOW THE FUCK DOES HE KNOW?

“Mr Jeon, why don’t you just tell me what you want?” I ask, exasperated.

“I will. Let’s say tomorrow around seven?” He proposes. Oh sweet mother of jesus, I’m seeign this man again, aren’t I?

If it’s work related, I’ll have to go. It could be an occasion to get a contract and prevent Fred from firing me.

“Maya?” He calls when I don’t answer.

“Miss Fair.” I correct him.

“Miss Fair, can we meet at seven?” He sounds amused.

“-Ish.” I tell him.

“-ish.” He repeats. “Good. I’ll send you the address.”

“Perfect.”

“See you tomorrow, Maya.”

“Miss-“

He hangs up before I can correct him. Christ, what am I getting myself into?

Seconds later, I receive a text on my phone from an unknown number. It’s nothing but un address. How did he get my number? Oh, my portfolio.

I drive to the location Mr Jeon gave me. It’s outside london but closer than the mansion. When I actually make it to the adress, I meet nothing but a dirt road, and my GPS indicates I’m at destination. But there’s nothing. Nothing expect another car, Mr Jeon’s Audi, which he’s leaning against, waiting for me. He’s wearing a suit today as well, but this time he has a jacket and a tie. The jacket fits him perfectly. I have a thing for well fitted suits, men in suits, him in a suit…

My heart starts to race again just at the thought of being close to him, talking to him and having him looking at me with his deep pools of brown.

I park right behind his vehicle and get out my car with shaky legs.

“Maya.” He greets with a soft yet dazzling smile, stretching his hand out to me.

“Miss Fair, please.” I correct him, making sure he doesn’t cross the line again. I fully intend on not letting him trample me. I shake his hand, and I think I make a good job hiding the tingles that run through me when our skins touch.

“Miss Fair.” He concedes, nodding softly, his fingers lingering against my palm as I slip my hand out of his. “You’re looking lovely today.” He says appreciatively, taking me by surprise.

Wait, what?

I’m suddenly self conscious, know that I know he notices the way I look. My cheeks heat up dangerously, and I’m a bit listless, my mouth going dry.

This god-like creature thinks I look lovely today.

My mouth hangs slightly open in shock, and I can’t seem to manage to form a decent answer- or a decent sound, for that matter. His eyes slide down my legs.

“Maybe I should’ve told you to bring flat shoes.” He muses, crinkling his nose. He crinkles his nose!

“We’re going for a hike.” He declares. I blink rapidly.

“Are we?” I manage. He nods silently.

“Follow me.” He invites.

My feet accepting to cooperate, I follow him down the lane, entering the forest. We walk in the nature for a good five minutes, the forest slowly morphing into darker woods. And That’s when I start to wonder just what I am doing, following an asian sex symbol in woods outside London.

I think I should run. No one knows where I am. Hell, I don’t even where I am. When I decide to stop and run, we make it out of the woods into a huge parcel of greenery, standing just at the bottom of a hill. There is a stairway that has been built to reach the top. It’s made of white stones, and from the bottom, it forms a mosaic with roman designs using perspective vison.

I’m fascinated and curious. There is actually something up here. The stairs are rundown though, broken in several places, pieces missing, the overall structure looking unsteady. But it’s beautiful.

“The steps are broken. Be careful where you step.” Mr Jeon says to me as I start climbing. This is such a shame. These stairs must have looked amazing in the past.

“You still don’t want to tell me why I’m here?” I ask, detaching my gaze from the stones under my feet.

“You’ll find out soon enough.” He replies elusively.

“I thought you wouldn’t want to see me again.” I murmur, and watch as his brow furrows. He looks at me quizzically.

“I never said that. I said I was pleased to meet you.” He reminds me. Well, that’s something you say to anyone when you’re polite enough. I didn’t think-

“And I said I meant it.” He adds. So, that man doesn’t know how to lie? He really was pleased to meet me? He, for sure, had a ver strange way of showing it.

“Ah!” I shriek when the stone under my foot wobbles and detaches itself from the step. I stumble forward, but Mr Jeon’s strong hand stops my fall. He grabs me by the upper arm and yanks me up, pulling me flush against him.

I look up at him, mortified by his proximity. His heat pours out onto me, from his chest onto my side, and from his hand onto my arm. The delicate smell of fresh yet musky cologne engulfs itself in my nostrils, and his brown pools stare at me intently, bordering on a slight glare.

My heart is in my ears, pounding hard and heating up my cheeks.

“I said be careful.” He murmurs, letting me go. When he steps back, the air gets thinner, and I can actually breathe. That’s when I realise I was holding my breath.

“Thank you.” I mumble, actually thanking god he stepped away, but then I feel his fingertips sliding across my palm. I look down at my hand as he slips his in it, clipping my fingers down with his thumb across my knuckles.

“We’re almost there.” He says, holding my hand up. My mouth dries out, all the moisture in it going straight to my hand and making it clammy. He’s holding my hand.

He slightly tugs me forward, prompting my feet to move. And while he thinks he’s helping my go up the stairs more steadily, he’s actually making it worse for me because my legs have turned into jelly.

He lets me go once we make it to the top, and I meet an abandoned horror house. It’s actually a windmill house, from old America, again, right outside London. But it’s broken down, rundown, old and scary. The windmill is placed on the left, a large column maybe ten meters high. It’s made of old white stone that went beige with time.

“What’s this?” I ask my client as we walk down the grave pathway.

“My old guy.” He declares, watching me. His old guy? He has some sentimental connection with this shell of a house? We stop under the porch.

“You’re giving me this…project?” I ask, incredulous. He really was pleased to meet me.

“It’s not a project.” He shakes his head softly, looking up at the mill. “It’s my whole life.”

I swallow. He sure does know how to put pressure on people.

“And I want you to work on it.” He adds, and deep down, in a small, unused part of my brain, I tell myself he’s not just talking about this house.

#jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #jungkook #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook fanfiction #jungkookxoc #jungkook x oc #twh #jimin #bts jimin #jimin scenario #bts reactions #bangtan scnearios #kpop scnearios #kpop smut #kpop

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player-1 · 4 years

Text

The Near-Death-Experience Theory (KH Unchained)

Oh boy...Don’t I have something fun here... (Also a TLDR at the bottom)

With the translation to the Union X novel finally released, in-depth secrets come to light, of course, with a little bit of digging as well.

In my case, one thing seems to puzzle me more than ever...the Player's connection with Nightmare Chirithy; something that eluded most of the fanbase since Unchained and Union X was released. Of course, the Chirithy the Player has acts more like a parental figure than a close friend (now implied with Elrena and Blaine’s Chirithies), but maybe there's a reason for that...What if something happened to the Player and he had to have his Chirithy replaced?

As the title says above, what if the Player suffered a near-death experience just before Unchained and his Chirithy "disconnected" from his wielder to later become a Nightmare? And what if said Nightmare becomes the focal point of the War? (To avoid running on old steam, I'll call the Player Hero (personal headcanon name) and the Nightmare Chirithy OG Chirithy. I'll mostly go off the novel for the fine details and list the pages, so have fun following along if you have the novel too! [I’ll add some screenshots of the pages or just explain the major details, don’t blame me if it’s a bit sloppy or all over-the-place..It’s more than recommended to read from start-to-finish, just in case.😉])

Comment or reblog if you’re interested!

First, I'm going off some unusual traits Hero possesses that might describe some past "incident" and the repercussions that follow.

How Hero obtained the Keyblade (Page 15) The one thing that contrasts between the novel and the game is the introduction. Of course, it means the Keyblade hero of Light goes through some weird dream sequence at the Station of Awakening and gets their Keyblade, right? Well, not for Hero's case. The mobile includes that feature (albeit the lack of self-portrait glass mural) while the novel doesn't even bother to describe the scene at all. Why, you ask? Well, most people ignore this key detail...

Out of every dive in the heart in the series, they usually wake up from that sleep (either on the beach for Sora or in Twilight Town for Roxas), but Hero starts off fresh out of Dive-time at the Fountain Square. (Little tidbit and KH3 spoiler, the Station of Awakening is akin to the veil between life and death. The more you know...) In my opinion, I would suppose that the Foretellers would pick their wielders, or the wielders pick their Master, vice versa; just a normal application or suggestion to get the ball rolling...

Hero's sense of navigation (page 22) Little sidenote honestly. But how does a kid who was born and raised in Daybreak have no idea how to get to the Waterfront Park?

Screw that, he should know the place like the back of his hand!

The Neo Shadow Trio (Pages 31-33) Now, this trio caught me a bit by surprise. Of course, even if they didn't survive the Neo Shadow attack, the last member managed to hold them off for a couple of days until their final breath. That's a bummer, I know, but it's strange how Hero never considered working with a team beforehand. But the question still remains...

Here's a simple answer for you; kids die!

The Power Bangle (Pages 33-34) Isn't it just a coincidence that when Hero wants to get stronger, especially when he wants friends that actually stay with him, a Chirithy comes around with all the answers he needs? Even if the promise is enticing, he hesitates.

"Wasn't guilt that awful feeling you got when you did something wrong?" In my opinion, Hero's definition of Guilt is somewhat confusing. While the Neo Shadow Trio "left him", Hero felt guilty about not being strong enough to protect others. In a strange sort of way, those are the two things he feels guilty about, and the two things that all Keyblade wielders have to follow. Having friends to give them strength, and power to protect themselves. Hero, for that brief moment of loss and confusion, was guilty about not following either of those pieces of advice.

Finally, Hero's little speech before throwing himself into the jaws of possible death (Pages 84-85) While it was pretty inspirational and moving, even if this reaction was spurred on by Ava, he had a lot more of a burden to get off his chest after Ephemer's "death". He explains how, no matter how hard he worked for Anguis, it felt incredibly unfair to have that all taken away from him. What caught me off guard was his realization of the Darklings and how he was ready to throw his life away to "avenge" Em.

I had to fight who I considered my friends? Did Hero know that the Darklings were the Neo Shadow Trio?

Of course, for such a young and ambitious wielder, none of the Foretellers take the time to describe what Darkness should be. Even with his sense of heroics, no one would have the balls to go against a Foreteller, especially not the one they follow. Also, don’t just be a child soldier, be a child soldier with feelings!

Alright then...even if this seems like a stretch, but it feels like Hero holds some kind of untold trauma in his heart, but just doesn't understand (or remembers) why. He's way too quiet than other people, doesn't think a lot about others (or getting help from other wielders), and even if he got friends, he can get pretty defensive if something happened to them or blames himself for something out of his control. It's a bit interesting, right?

Well don't worry, it gets far more interesting with the OG Chirithy, believe me!

OG Chirithy reflects Hero’s original personality before the accident (Pages 33-34, 79-80) As mentioned earlier with Elrena and Blaine, I believe that, if given enough time and partnership, they can reflect their wielder's more intimate and personal interests and personality. (ie, Elrena's Chirithy is caring and considerate of others, as opposed to Elrena being spunky and more of a lone-wolf kind of girl. Blaine's Chirithy is sassy and demanding, something Blaine puts aside for a cool and charismatic mannerism.)

With that little fact in mind, we can put together Hero's "original" personality based on OG/Nightmare Chirithy's appearances.

First, when Hero is given the Power Bangle. The first thing OG Chirithy does is congratulate Hero for all the hard work and how much he grew since day one (something the other Chirithy tones down to a teacher-student kind of exchange), and Hero was just thinking about getting stronger; offers him the Power Bangle. The entire conversation seems relaxed and straightforward; with the Bangle, Hero can collect Lux and Guilt for his Union and himself respectively. It's also worth noticing that "The sparkling Power Bangle fit so comfortably that it was hard to believe you'd only just put it on. You were so pleased you couldn't help but show it off." (pg 33). It's really surprising to consider how that Chirithy knew Hero's wrist size, even for a simple accessory. It's tempting to say the least...or he just knows his measurements, something like that.

Second, after the battle with the Darklings. Despite the surprising revelation with the Darklings' origin, OG Chirithy was surprisingly calm about the whole situation. "I thought if I took away everyone's Lux, there'd be no reason to fight anymore." Of course, this was all because of Hero learning about the coming end-times and wielders starting to fight over Lux from Skuld, so it's strange to consider why taking wielder's Lux would solve the problem. In my opinion, this means something more: for everyone to be equal. Lux means fighting stronger Heartless, and the more Lux a wielder has makes them arrogant and prideful. By equalizing wielders' Lux income, that would mean them working together as a group, producing more Lux as a whole than a single overpowered tank could. Surprisingly enough, that's also the one thing that Hero desires; friends he can relate to and fight alongside with. Even if the manner of achieving this dream seems drastic, it's something Hero's current Chirithy wouldn't understand. All in all, OG Chirithy seems to be calm and in-control of everything around him, wants to be strong so he has friends that care about him, and he’s more than happy to make sure his wielder is happy too...albiet in some pretty unusual ways.

Now, even with the existence of a Nightmare Chirithy, everything about it seems to break a recognized loophole in Unchained. When a wielder dies or falls into Darkness, their Chirithy disappears alongside them. And even if a wielder falls into Darkness (ie turning into a Darkling), they're unable to wield a Keyblade or use Medals in their state. Well, here's where everything gets blown out of the water!

How in the world does the OG Chirithy know about Spirits and Nightmares, while Hero's Chirithy doesn't? Even if the novel is in the point of view of Hero's new Chirithy, there seem to be some key points that Chirithy 2 doesn't mention (the story with Backcover and the Foretellers, and even the Master of Masters himself), but here's where it gets interesting. The only Chirithy that knows about Nightmares is the very first Chirithy MoM created. What I'm trying to say is this...If Chirithies are so interconnected with their wielders they're all "If I die, I die with you", what if the first Chirithy was a prototype Spirit?

While that warning with a wielder falling into Darkness and creating a Nightmare seems threatening enough, not a lot of wielders have enough strength to even control that Darkness, nonetheless use it with their humanity intact. A Chirithy becoming a Nightmare, at most, would be an extremely rare case; that would mean the wielder getting overcome by Darkness and surviving on their own, and I'm pretty sure a bunch of teenagers wouldn't live up to that if they even tried.

So why, pray tell, does this mean with Hero? Some interesting connections, actually. In pages 65 and 87, Ava seems to know that Hero can easily be overwhelmed with his emotions (more so in the heart), but Hero seems pretty resilient to the Darkness as a whole. If an ordinary wielder knew that their friend was offed by a Foreteller, they would've been acting a lot more brash and destructive than that; but Hero doesn't, he just acted far too calm about it all.

The day before Hero meets Ephemer, Chirithy meets OG Chirithy, though a bit darker in shade (pg 38). At that time, Chirithy remembers the Foretellers "Who's the traitor?" scene in Backcover (pg 52). Isn't it a bit of a coincidence that just as Hero finally gets a new friend, the Nightmare starts to make a move?

Even if the Foretellers knew about the Nightmare, they only looked upon themselves as this "traitor". After all, isn't it easier to put the blame on those closest to you than a random stranger? And even if the Foretellers knew about the Nightmare's wielder, would you really think that they had to put down some random kid who just so happens to possess the root of all evil? Hero doesn't look or act corrupted at all, so he practically stays under the radar the entire time as the Foretellers eventually tear each other apart; focusing more on the "traitor" than getting rid of the obvious threat.

I know I'm rambling way too much at this point, but one thing also seemed to elude me...

Was this all part of the Master's plan?

To give a random wielder a prototype Chirithy and hope for the best? Well, if the Master didn't know what would happen, the War never would have occurred. If the Master predicted that, with the simple act of giving the first Chirithy to Hero, would eventually lead to him almost losing his heart to Darkness (or Heartless, idk), and eventually creating the Nightmare he warned about? And before the Foretellers could realize what happened, MoM just kept cranking out more and more Spirits to cover up the tracks; eventually leading to an army of identical Scottish Folds and absolutely way too many kids to count.

And if, after that horrifying accident, Hero suppressed his memories of the event; and in a sudden jump of adrenaline, somehow managed to reclaim his Keyblade? (I know it seems a bit dumb to mention this now, but try to relate this to the aftermath of Sora's almost-norting from DDD. Almost losing his heart to Darkness could put a lot of strain on it; and as a result, his Keyblade suffers a "soft reboot" of sorts. After all, a Keyblade is a reflection of their heart, right? If it gets hurt, the Keyblade reflects it, no matter how stupid that plothole might have been.)

The Master of Masters said about the traitor that would start the War, all that kind of stuff in the Lost Page, but the Page never described who or what the traitor would be. Just pick out someone evil who has a way of spreading Darkness and that's that...But that's the problem here. Only the Nightmare is spreading Darkness, not the wielder; even without the person's knowledge. Hero’s connection to Nightmare Chirithy is like a walking paradox; while the wielder collects Lux and works like every other Keyblade wielder, his Chirithy works behind the scenes in ultimately causing tension and violence across for the Unions and Foretellers. Despite the whole world practically revolving around you, maybe now you realize why...You the Player, in some crazy convoluted future-vision crap, was the traitor the whole time!

TL;DR The Master of Masters gave Hero the very first Chirithy, but Hero almost died from Heartless/Darkness, causing him to lose his memory from the trauma (that PTSD jazz) and resetting his Keyblade's abilities. Meanwhile, with Chirithy's bond weakening from the attack, obtains the bangles, taps into the wielders' Guilt, and spreads Darkness all throughout Daybreak Town; eventually becoming the traitor and the main cataclyst of the Keyblade War.

#kh #kh unchained #kh union x #Kh uion x spoilers #player character #Chirithy #Nightmare Chirithy #kh novel spoilers #Foretellers #Master of Masters #theory

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incorrect-myinnerdemon-quotes · 5 years

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One-shot I’m Sorry & Guilty Feelings

If you’re wondering this was a request from my Wattpad account so what I’m doing is posting it here. If you’re wondering, yes, I have a Wattpad account. These are both in the same timeline btw. Characters might be slight OOC

. . .

There weren't many times where Leif and Noi had gotten into arguments but when they did they weren't bad, neither were they violent either, it was always fights full of insults and empty threats; Leif wasn't allowed to kill anyone on the team mostly due to the fact that it was Prince Asch decision to not have him killed. This was one of the more recent fights on who could kill Ava, the prisoner they kept.

When they fought like this it was around the others, usually Rhys or Pierce, the ones who always broke up their fights like this except this time they were alone no one there o stop the fight before it got worse. The others were in their share of the apartment, the room they created to stay at, most likely having a discussion on what to do and how they would further there research on the human world or what to do next. The fight wasn't with magic but instead physical hits that pushed the other back along with insult that made the other's heart have a slight ache by how true some of them could be.

The fight followed them out of Ava's room and it got worse by the second, tension grew at a quick rate and so did the threats and insults too but before they knew it chaos unfolded into something that would cause a death in the group of demons. The words that cut even deeper than Leif could have ever imagined they could.

"Why do you keep trying to kill her? You know you can't do it know your the least powerful one here!"

"N-no I'm not! Stop saying things like that I'm powerful, just as powerful as you!"

"NO YOU AREN'T!" His voice was raised louder than usual. "Stop saying things like that, you can't do anything Noi, your the most useless demon here you not being here wouldn't change a single thing at all!"

"You useless disgrace of a demon, you should have died that day instead of having Prince Asch save you."

Noi's eye's widened as he backed up in response to what Leif said, tears already falling from his eyes; Leif grinned. "Just run away already! You're already useless enough with how much you put this group at risk with how bad you are at even being a soldier." Leif shouted maintaining a glare. Noi backed up and turned on his heels an ran, once he turned the corner Leif could hear his footsteps, the door open and slammed behind him. He was gone.

Leif let out a huff and crossed his arms. 'He ran away, how typical of someone as low level as him, people who run away from there problems are cowards.' Leif thought. He felt a hand on his shoulder and then a burning situation there, it was Prince Asch. "Leif, where's Noi?" He said it in a chillingly calm tone that amounted to terror in how angry he truly was. He jerked away rubbing his inflamed shoulder with a scowl on his face. "Why the hell would I know that?! Do you think I keep track of the kid or something like that." Leif said. "He's not that important anyway..." Leif muttered

Prince Asch crossed his arms and looked at him with a glare. "Don't you dare try and lie to me Leif, if you did something to him and he ends up dead you'll be dead as well."

Well, shi-

. . .

And so him, Prince Asch, Pierce, Rhys and also Ava who Prince Asch forced to come along searched out high and low for Noi, he had no luck in finding him, but his luck turned around when the guilt set in and he was sat alone on a park bench. "If you wanna find Noi, he'd on the bridge nearby I expect you to apologize to him." He looked up to see Pierce with a glare on his face, it was unusual that he would confront him like that, he never confronted anyone like that.

Pierce and Noi were close, kinda like brothers, if something upset the other the other one would find out what happened and make sure it didn't happen again. The weirdest thing was why was Noi on a bridge and why hadn't Pierce dealt with the situation, it was another thing he never understood, but that's how friendships work apparently. "And why are you so concerned about it, its none of your business!" Leif asked. Pierce shook his head and sighed. "It is when you hurt my friend Leif, I expect for you to apologize to him at the end of the day," Pierce said.

Leif rolled his eyes and got up with a huff. "Fine where's the bridge, I'll go and apologize to him, where is he?" Pierce pointed to where the bridge was, it was a while away but Leif could easily make it there in a matter of time. "There," Leif sighed. "I'm only doing this because Prince Asch wants him back on the team if he wasn't don't expect that I wouldn't have apologized if he wasn't." And on that note, Leif stormed off towards the bridge.

Leif could say he was a good liar, most people fell for them expect for Prince Asch and Pierce, they had been able to see through any lie he had told and he personally found it a little amazing that they could. So eventually he made it to the bridge and there he could see Noi sitting in the edge looking down at the water kicking his feet back and forth, another wave of guilt washed over him; this wasn't the Noi he knew, he wanted the old one back.

He walked up to him and sat next to him, silence spread across them and the tension grew thicker than before. "Hey Noi, how are you today?" Noi didn't answer back, Leif sighed, this would be more difficult than he thought. "Noi look I'm sorry that I said those things, you can probably forgive me right?" Leif asked. Noi stayed silent but the tension kept on growing until he finally gave his answer.

"I don't accept your apology after what you said Leif."

Leif huffed and stood up, muttering things under his breath, he kicked the rock, he slipped back on the rock and fell. He turned around so he'd catch the edge of the bridge, he looked to Noi, Noi looked back at him with a blank expression. "Noi, what the hell are you doing?! Help me, I'm gonna fall you, idiot!" Leif shouted Noi looked to him a shook his head. "What do you mean no?! Are you insane?! You can't let me die!" Noi didn't respond to him and left him there to hang on with his life.

'I'm a failure, after all that hard work, I'm sorry Prince Asch, my parents, gosh I've been falling for a long time, this is really gonna hurt.' Leif thought. A hand grabbed Leif's hand, Leif looked up; Noi. Leif grinned. "I knew you wouldn't let me die, your not like that Noi!" Leif said, Noi smiled at him. "I didn't say I wasn't going to let you die, I just want to be the cause of it."

Leif's eye widened as he felt his hand slip from Noi's grip. "W-what the hell are you doing Noi?! You can't kill me!" Leif shouted but Noi kept on letting his grip on Leif's hand slip second by second. "Apologize," Noi said.

Leif gripped at Noi's hand, clinging on it because his life was in his hands. "Noi- Noi... Don't let go, you can't do this, we'll both fall." Leif begged. Noi looked at him with an innocent smile, Leif looked down at the water in the bridge when he felt his hand slip, he looked back up to Noi with a pleading look.

"Noi... Please, don't do this... I'm sorry..."

"Apology unaccepted, I'll make sure to thank Pierce for his help in setting this up."

He let go of Leif's hand and Leif fell and fell until he fell into the water shock of pain ripping through his back by the impact. Leif couldn't name many situations where he panicked but this was one of them. He mistakenly left his mouth open and inhaled a bunch of water, it filled his mouth and until he closed it. He desperately tried to swim back up but his arms hurt too much to try. He kept on sinking and sinking into the darkness at the bottom of the water as he fell deeper into the water, he felt slightly numb.

And there he was, left for dead, left to drown by someone who was thought to be innocent, surprisingly not and also helped set up by a friend of his.

Everything was starting to be consumed by static until nothing was left. The voices screaming for him to wake up didn't wake him up, only made him fall deeper into sleep until there was nothing left.

. . .

Falling, falling, falling, that's all he was doing was falling into a deep dark inky void. He was in a relaxed space until something gripped at his chest and lunged him forwards into a light, he let out a scream as pain ripped through his entire body lunching him forward into the light.

His eyes opened and he started to cough up water the others by his side slowly backing away to give him some space. He was alive except when he looked around Noi wasn't there, but his partner in crime Pierce was. Why did he even bother coming if he planned this all along?

. . .

Ever since that day Leif constantly put the blame of his near-death onto Pierce and Noi, but no one listened. With no evidence there or to play at all nothing, he said was true until someone else came up to say something to defend him, someone who didn't lie.

"I'm telling you! They tried to kill me!-"

"No, they didn't! And if you keep on saying that I'll-"

"Leif is telling the truth, me and Noi tried to kill him, Noi pushed him off that bridge I helped!" Pierce blurted out a guilty look on his face. Everyone stared at him, the thing was Pierce didn't lie and even if he was Asch could tell, yet he couldn't object, but slowly but surely everything started to come together and Prince Asch was inraged that he had fallen for that lie for so long. "And why the hell didn't you say anything sooner? You two tried to kill Leif, what the hell is wrong with you two?!" Pierce sighed, he had too much to explain.

"Because there are times when I don't know what to do or say but only listen to what I'm told to do because I have no choice because I'm only meant to listen to those in charge. Leif..." Leif slightly backed away. "Do you remember what I told you that day when you said killing would be easier?" Pierce asked looking towards the boy.

"Death isn't always the solution to everything along with insults. Eventually, they'll come back to hurt you in the future from those you least expect. Those things are the same things our enemies do and if we do the same we're no different from them, we only destroy our kingdom and make things worse."

Leif nodded his breath caught in his throat, he wasn't able to say a thing. "Hearing what you constantly told Noi all at once with no warning made me think you were always like this, it had blurred my decision and Noi suggested that we bring it all to an end, make the team better by getting rid of you altogether so he wouldn't have to suffer anymore. He convinced me that your death was the right option no matter how many times I objected otherwise." Pierce informed.

"I knew it wasn't right to kill you, that it wasn't something I should have done even so I did what I always instructed to do since I was a kid and did what he said without thinking it over and pretended that it never happened. I was told that those who deserved to die stayed dead forever and when I heard you survived after everything that Noi told me..." He looked away, a look of shame on his face.

"I was shocked, I thought if I was able to stop you everything would get better for the team, and seeing how worse things have become because we both did tried to do that... I can't take it anymore." Pierce admitted, everyone but Leif starred at him wide-eyed but even then Leif was a little shocked too.

The whole confession of what happened being confessed on someone who was assisting in it, especially when he was the one who helped the group, the one meant to guard Prince Asch was the one who helped with it. Someone who was never moved by anything, never shoved any emotions but known for having great judgment thought that his death was something that was meant to happen. His judgment on who was in charge and what happened previously, on things he was taught as a child and on pure persuasion of the situation, lied to by his own friend.

But even with that said the explanation still wasn't finished.

"I don't know what to say for what I did, I just listened. I didn't feel like we could have fun with everyone if you kept saying things like that, so I did what Noi said since he was the leader of the situation and what the leader say's is the only thing that matters, it's the only thing I'm supposed to do, listen to the one in charge... But..." Tears started to gather in his eyes only to quickly fall from them. "I still felt even worse after I did it, I wanted you back, I felt guilty for what I did and I'm glad I did so I could tell you the truth even if I promised Noi not to tell," Pierce informed.

"That's why I wanted to tell you all even if I can't properly gather my thoughts so that I won't feel so guilty and will have to suffer for what I did, to have fun with everyone again even if I don't deserve that in the end." He looked away eye's full of pain, a dull glaze over them still trying to conceal the emotions he felt; he let out a sob. "I let this team down and the only thing I can think about doing to help is not telling you all sit by and suffer while I know what's going on." He let out a few more sobs feeling the judgmental stares of the others tear down the walls he had put up.

'He's been carrying this with him the whole time, worrying about it, and thinking about it. Feeling guilty about it... Not actually wanting me dead.' Leif thought.

Pierce tried to wipe away the tears from his eyes but they just kept on falling down no matter how hard he tried to wipe them away. Footsteps stomped towards him and he felt something tightly grip at his neck squeezing it where the air was a hard thing to access especially with the sobs that kept on escaping from his lips limiting the amount of air he could intake. It was Prince Asch who used his left hand to grab him by his neck.

"Why didn't you tell us until now?! We could have solved this by now if you told us earlier!" Prince Asch shouted, the tears on his face falling down at a quicker pace, anxiety building up at a quicker pace than he expected, Pierce opened his mouth and tried to answer back but nothing came out. Tension quickly spread through the air like fire the frigid air on a winter night, Prince Asch held his arm out fire coming from his palm and extending to grow at a larger size, one that could cover someone's face if wanted to.

"Don't make this harder than it already is Pierce, say something anything before I break your neck for not answering me." Prince Asch demanded tightening his grip on his neck, Pierce didn't bother to try and push him away, if this is what he got for betraying his team then he'd suffer through it. He closed his eye's and waited for the snap of his neck.

But it never came only the lack of air clouding his mind and making his body numb. The hand left his throat and he stumbled back hitting part of the couch but sliding to sit on the ground, he opened one of his eyes to see Rhys standing between them and Leif holding Asch back by holding one of his arms Ava doing the same knowing the consequences well. The next thing he knew he kept on spacing in and out until the next thing he knew it was just him and Rhys left in the room, Ava and Leif present in the background. He was being interrogated.

"Why did you do that? Why did you try to kill him, Pierce, you don't do things like that?" The question stung. Why did he try to kill him, why did he listen, why did it matter so much to him now, why did it hurt so much now?

"He convinced me to, I didn't want to but he wouldn't listen but I did it anyway. I'm so, sorry, I don't want to lose this team." More tears, why was he crying so much? Demons don't cry, they don't show weakness.

"We don't want to lose you too, you just need to talk to me, and not apologize."

"Noi..."

"Yes, what did he do?"

"He's been planning it for so long, trying to get me to help him for so long and he finally got me to join him. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

"He's... He's been what?"

"He's been planning this for the past months, I thought it was a joke but he's serious and he got me into to."

Rhys sighed. "Thank you for telling me, I'll tell Prince Asch what you told me along with your behavior, you can't leave just yet, this house will become your prison until he decides whether or not you'll live or not." Pierce nodded and Rhys walked away to go inform Prince Asch.

A day later they set out on a hunt to find Noi only for it to result unsuccessful, not even Pierce knowing where he went, Pierce stayed with the team but kept his distance from them knowing fully well what would happen if he tried to get close again.

#one-shot #i try #angst #my inner demons #mid #my inner demons leif #my inner demons pierce #my inner demons noi #my inner demons asch #my inner demons rhys #my inner demons ava #ava is slightly there #but rarely appears #because she isn't the main focus of this story angst is #noi murders someone

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chessdaze · 5 years

Photo

Day 3 of my @khoc-week catch up!

Friends or Lovers? Show and tell who your OC is familiar with! Any friends? A Significant Other? Or maybe an enemy? Draw a picture of them with their best friend(s), enemy, or special someone! Or write a one shot about them interacting or going on a mission together.

OH BOY I HAVE SO MUCH TO SAY ABOUT THIS. But I wanted to focus on two relationships in particular with Atlas - that with his mentor/father figure Wynter and that with his two best friends Kei and Quest (who were briefly shown in yesterday’s prompt!). family figures weren’t really in the prompt but I went with it anyways because I HAVE to talk about Wynter.

Wynter is the reason that heartsmiths exist, he’s an incredibly powerful magic user. He’s also the reason Atlas is even alive, so of course he’s an important figure in Atlas’s life. Including Atlas’s wonderland background which he doesn’t recall, Wynter is the only father figure he’s ever had. Atlas loves Wynter. However, there was a big strain on their relationship during the time leading up to the keyblade war.

Readmore time

Wynter is a keyblade user. I’ve done a piece of him with his keyblade here, besides probably MoM, he’s probably the eldest keyblade wielder in Daybreak Town. However he doesn’t use his keyblade for fighting heartless on a normal basis as it has a very specific trait. It can freeze someone’s heart in time. Thus the name ‘hand of time’. A theme of Wynter’s character is that he’s stuck in time and not able to move forward and his keyblade and it’s power are a reflection of that and how his heart is stagnant - which is like a punch to the gut when MoM is explaining all of this to him (MoM and Wynter are like old buds).

As the keyblade war draws closer it becomes clear why Wynter was given this particular keyblade with this particular power. He aims to have Atlas survive the keyblade war through freezing his heart and body in time. He knows of the dandelions via Quest (who was chosen to be apart of the dandelions - but more on that when i get to him and kei), and wants to freeze Atlas in time and then let the dandelions/Ava know of his location so after the danger has passed they can retrieve him. But things never go as planned.

Atlas refused, almost violently so, when the idea was brought up. In the end. Quest and Kei had to hold Atlas down while Wynter stabbed him with his keyblade. Hence the below picture (which was like one of the first i drew with atlas ever - and of wynter’s keyblade it’s changed a bit since this look):

As one can imagine, this wasn’t great on their relationship. In Atlas’s main story, he ends up drifting with the heartsmith’s shop/forge in the space between (being a ‘mini world’ in its own right), Wynter’s notes being scattered to the worlds (like ansem’s reports - and his notes on heartsmithing is a precursor to keyblade armor being made, but that’s an entirely different ramble), and doesn’t awake until the guardians of light find him 1000+ years later.

After awaking he has so many mixed emotions about his mentor. He’s angry that Wynter took the opportunity for him to help wielders away, he’s angry that he was pretty much forced to have a keyblade he never wanted (in stabbing atlas with the keyblade, atlas pretty much became the successor to it), and being left all alone without his friends or his family was just...sad. He blamed Wynter and his two best friends for the longest time.

REWIND A SEC AND I’LL TALK ABOUT ATLAS, KEI, AND QUEST.

I have dubbed them the ‘ribbon trio’ as their design all involve ribbons. my sister has also affectionally called them the ‘rose buds’ because of this picture below and thinking on it, it fits because of Atlas’s past with wonderland, Quest being from Beast’s Castle, and Kei’s family being florists.

here’s another one because they’re cute

As mentioned above, Quest is from Beast’s Castle. His parents died during the plague and he had been having a rough childhood when he was given the power of the keyblade and was able to go to daybreak town and join a union. Considering the state he was in (practically skin and bones), Gula was surprised when he appeared and wanted to join Leopardos. He had to be nursed back to a fighting health but when he was able he became a party leader and lead the party the Chevaliers (I did a photoset of them here).

Kei is from daybreak town and her family are the local florists (see a picture of her and her sibs here). She was the only one gifted with the power of the keyblade and felt the need to become stronger and stronger so she could protect her family - and so she joined Ursus. She’s known as a ‘party hopper’ because as soon as she thought she learned all she could from a party - or if she became the most powerful one in a party - she left in search of new challenges.

They both met Atlas via the heartsmith shop, and while kei and quest didn’t quite see eye to eye at first - Atlas was the glue that kept them together and eventually they became closer and could consider eachother friends aswell.

Leading up to the keyblade war, the one chosen to become a dandelion was Quest. He was extremely torn over it, not sure what to say or what to do. Some dandelions mentioned that it might be useful to have a heartsmith with them because ‘who knows what could happen’ so Quest asked Ava about Atlas joining. However only keyblade wielders could join - so Quest left to ask Wynter if he planned to pass his keyblade onto Atlas, if he became a wielder then he could become a dandelion.

He was explaining this to Atlas when Kei suddenly appeared and started an argument about Quest picking Atlas over her- and why she wasn’t chosen to be in this special group of wielders. This caused a huge rift between the three. Atlas became too busy with wielders flooding into the heartsmiths shop for repairs and upgrades before the war to really tackle the issue - but Kei and Quest were at odds for quite some time. Eventually they came to terms with eachother and the problem at hand -- and they both quit their unions to become heartsmiths instead.

pictured in the main photo at the bottom is sort of what directly came after that - Wynter stating his plan to freeze Atlas in time and Atlas retaliating. Quest and Kei both agreed it was for the best, and that they would do their best to become even half the heartsmith that Atlas was. But of course Atlas still wasn’t having it - and to save their friend from the war they held him down in a chair while Wynter stabbed him with the keyblade.

The two of them then had a crash course of how to be a heartsmith and not long after the war happened.

I feel like I should say it doesn’t end well for any of them.

Wynter dies before the war even begins. He uses the last of his strength from non stop weeks of working to send the heartsmith shop into the space between after Kei and Quest leave - has enough time to reach his twin sister Crystal (who is the local baker), then dies in her arms.

Kei and Quest both die on the battle field - Kei dies protecting Quest dies protecting a wielder (I’ve plotted it out with friends that he protects the player character pretty much and it’s the reason that the dandelions are able to reach them in time). Kei and Quest’s hearts however find themselves at the heartsmith shop in the space between - and for those 1000 + years, they protect Atlas.

However they get corrupted over time and become phantoms which is where the darkling like designs i made come into play. When the guardians of light reach the shop - they have to fight passed Kei and Quest to get to atlas because they’re still trying to protect Atlas even if they’ve been lost to the darkness.

Kei and Quest are freed from the darkness after they are defeated, and they stay long enough to see atlas being awoken before vanishing from sight.

So as you can tell ATLAS HAS A LOT OF FEELINGS AFTER WAKING UP/HIS TIME BEGINNING AGAIN. And I just....love his dynamic with his friends/mentor so much okay.

And as a fun fact - since trios sometimes have an object that’s related to them. Besides ribbons TM Atlas, Quest, and Kei all have actual keys and armbands that are personalized to them. Kei has a flower design on her key, Quest has a star design, and Atlas has a heart design. Wynter made these all from them - and they’re literally all keys to the heartsmtih shop. Atlas was given one at first but when it was clear how close he was to Quest and Kei, Wynter made the other two keys by hand and gave them to the two. Kei suggested the armbands and Quest found them and atlas fashioned the chains they all hang off of.

Now I’ve rambled enough about that ONTO CANON CHARACTERS.

Sadly the above picture took me forever and I don’t have the energy to draw much else but here’s a small comic I made for a friend when we were plotting things together - because of course Atlas knows Ventus and they probably have a deep connection even if Ven doesn’t remember him. Sadly I never finished this comic but maybe one day....

and honestly I could ramble for hours about how Atlas would mesh well with a lot of the canon KH characters. He’s literally a therapist, it’s his job to talk to people and help them through problems AND BOY DO WE KNOW THE CANON KH PEEPS GOT SOME TRAUMA. and he’d want to help all of them the best he could. I can see him and Riku getting close especially. And he would definitely want to talk with Aqua after all of her time in the realm of darkness.

as a small bonus have the first picture I ever drew of the ribbon trio+ wynter together! Their designs haven’t changed much since this - aside from a few small things. I think the major things that changed is that atlas doesn’t wear his glasses on a normal basis and both Quest’s and Wynter’s hair is longer.

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mendesho · 5 years

Text

Play Like You’re The Good Guy- Part 3 (finale)

A/N: Well, here it is. The final part of this fic that wasn’t supposed to happen. It was a joy writing it and thank you all for the support.

She sat on the floor, both little white sticks next to her leg as she stared in disbelief. How could this have happened? Did he even come? She doesn't remember him doing so.

This can't be right. It can't be.

It had to be.

She'd been feeling sick the past few weeks. Constant vomiting, nausea, headaches. She felt more tired. More so than she normally did these days. She felt more bloated and achy. Like moving even slightly was a chore.

The final sign was when her period didn't show. She was always consistent, tracking it like clockwork to make sure no slips ups occurred. She started getting suspicious when it was 3 weeks late.

How did she let this happen?

She was always so careful. Making sure every guy she'd been with was protected. Except one. The one who didn't even finish.

She let out a slight chuckle at how shitty her luck was. It would happen to her that she'd get pregnant from a guy who didn’t even finish. The guy who got her pregnant from pre-cum alone.

Fuck.

What was she going to do?

The doctor's words sounded like static in her ears, her brain only repeating like a scratched record.

“6 and a half weeks”

That would make sense. She hadn't seen Shawn since that night, almost a month and a half ago. She hadn't spoken with him at all, not for a lack of his trying. She had been determined to push him out of her mind. To finally move on with her life.

That seemed impossible now. She'd never be able to be rid of him.

Just her luck.

It’d been a week since she went to the doctor. Her mind was constantly in a haze, contemplating her next move.

She should tell him

But does he need to know?

Does she owe it to him? After everything he did to her?

She weighed out the benefits. She could do this on her own. Her mom would help. Her sister. Camilla. She had a support system. She didn't need him. He didn't deserve to know.

But she couldn't shake the feeling that she was in the wrong

She still had this loyalty to him. Like she was obligated to tell him, even though she knew it wouldn't matter. She didn't want him around. She didn't need him anymore. She could go on and raise her child on her own.

Her mom did it for years. She raised her and her sibling alone on a job that barely paid the bills but she made it work. Why should Ava be any different?

But she couldn't shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, she did need him. At least in some capacity.

Her fingers tapped the screen as she bit her lip, struggling with what to say. It wasn't every day you have to tell your ex you're pregnant with his child.

She thought about just saying it. Just typing it out and letting the chips fall. It would be simple.

She couldn't do that. No matter how pissed off she was at him, at the situation, she still owed him the respect to tell him this in person. Even if he didn't have enough respect for her.

She took a deep breath, letting it out and began typing.

“Hey”

She sat nervously, biting her nail.

Read 12:41 PM

…

The bubble popping up, indicating he was typing, sent a massive wave of nausea and anxiety to pool over her.

“Hey… how are you?”

‘I'm um... I'm good... how are you?”

She hated making small talk, but she couldn't bring herself to just jump into it.

“Been better, ha... what's up?”

She sighed, heart still racing.

“We... need to talk”

“What's wrong? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah everything is fine I just… I need to tell you something... can you come over later?”

“I'll be there in an hour, honey”

She fought the smile that pulled against her lips at the pet name. She wasn't his anymore and she had to remember that.

Even if this thing growing inside her was.

She let out a breath, placing a hand on her belly. The place where her baby was growing. Her baby with Shawn. The man she was supposed to marry.

It was cruel irony, really.

She thought about the wedding she planned but never had. The dress she had pre ordered that she had to cancel. The torn up sheet of vows she had written to make sure she got them just right.

It truly was cruel.

The light tapping at her door exactly one hour later, startled her from her thoughts.

It was time. She sucked in a breath and she stood up, letting out the breath as she opened the door.

He stood there in front of her, a beautiful as ever with a shy smile on his face.

“Hi” he breathed, stepping inside.

She put in a nervous smile, stepping aside so he could get fully inside, closing the door behind him.

You can do this

“You wanted to talk?” He asked, gazing at her.

His eyes were still full of affection and sadness when he looked at her. She almost felt guilty for the way their last encounter ended.

She had to remind herself that he brought this on himself.

Her mind snapped back to the reality of the situation. The reason she called him here.

“Sit. Please” She said, pointing towards the couch.

He nodded, taking his jacket off and sitting down. She took the spot next to him and ran through the rehearsed words in her head one more time.

“Ava? You're staring at me. Are you okay, honey”

Her mind came back into focus and she finally mustered up the courage to start her speech.

“So I wanted to talk about... before. The last time we spoke. And what I'm about to tell you is going to make no sense and trust me, I didn't want to believe it but doctors and Google confirmed it’s possible and...” She took a deep breath, eyes darting to her hands.

“Babe, you're scaring me” He said, his hand immediately placed over hers, his thumb stroking the top. She tried to ignore the feeling of warmth that brought her.

You can do this

You can do this...

You can-

“I'm pregnant”

She did it.

She felt relief wash over her, like she had been buried and took her first breath of fresh air. Like the world had been lifted from her shoulders and she could walk upright again.

Shawn's face froze in surprise. His eyes darting rapidly, looking for any sign this was a joke. A cruel prank. His mouth agape, opening and closing like a fish out of water.

“Well… are you going to say something?” She asked

“You're joking. You're joking right?” He said, his voice sounded desperate.

“I'm not. Took 2 tests and doctor confirmed”

His brow furrowed, his hand leaving hers to fall back on his lap. Her hand felt cold with the absence, but she ignored it. Other, more pressing matter, were occurring at the moment.

“How do you know it's even mine?”

Her eyes widened as she leaned back. She felt the anger at boil in her at his statement. She knew she didn't have a right to be angry. She had been with at least 2 other people since their break up and spotted with at least 6 others, so he was fair in his statement. However, the way he said it. The implication behind his words.

It pissed her off.

“Because you're the only one I fucked without protection, asshole.” She spat

“But how?! I didn't even finish” He said, the suspicion subsided ever so slightly.

“You didn't need to. It can happen even if there's precum. Which I guess I was unlucky enough to come in contact with”

She still wasn't over his comment. How fucking dare he make a statement like that? After everything he did.

He sighed, head in his hands. She could practically see the wheels turning in his head.

“What are we going to do?” He asked, staring up at her

“We aren't going to do anything. I'm letting you know so you’re aware. I'm going to raise my baby”

“You can't do this alone”

“Says who?” She snipped, her arms crossed and brow furrowed.

“Ava, you know this isn't fair”

“Life isn't fair. But this is the hand I've been dealt and I'm going to step up and deal with it. The only reason I even said anything is because I couldn't bring myself to not tell you. I felt that you at least deserved to know, even if I owe you nothing after what you did”

“Can you let that go? We have more pressing matter to deal with”

Her eyes widened at his words. The look on his face showed that he regretted them the moment they left his lips.

“Let it go? You want me to let go of the fact that you fucked someone in my bed on our anniversary and then blamed me for our breakup. You want me to let go of the fact that I'm now pregnant by the person who was supposed to be my husband by the end of the year. You want me to let that go? Just let go of every ounce of sorrow and misery and depression and self-loathing I felt? Or would you like me to let go of the suicide attempts because I felt like I was worthless because you chose someone else? How about I let all that go. That's fucking so easy to do, Shawn”

His eyes bulged at her words, them hitting like a brick “suicide...” his voice broke.

“Baby, I'm so sorry I didn't-”

“No, you didn't. Because you didn't care. You were too busy making me the bad guy and now you want to act like you give a shit about me or this baby. Well guess what? I don't need you, my baby doesn't need you and I sure as hell don't need your help. You can leave now”

She stood up, walking towards the door.

“Ava-”

“Goodbye, Shawn” she said, not letting him get a word in.

He sighed, standing up and heading towards the door and standing in the hallways

“Ava, just”

“I said goodbye” and with that, she slammed the door in his face

Maybe it was the hormones, or maybe she was tired of being miserable all the time. Bottom line was, she want going to let him get to her. She was going to raise her baby and show them the love they deserved. Without him.

She didn't need him. From now on, all she needed was her baby.

She walked up to her door, the sight of another brown box blocking her way. She rolled her eyes, placing her hand on her ever growing belly as she braced herself to pick it up.

Shawn had been texting her every day, asking how she was feeling. If she needed anything. How the baby was doing. He'd send presents every week as well. A variety if toys, clothes, books, shoes, blankets.

She donated all of them, wanting no part of this. She had to admit, part of her loved it. That he was trying so hard for her. For their baby. But she also hated herself for feeling that way.

“Don't let him back in, no matter what” She would tell herself.

But she couldn't help the tug at her heart at the thought of raising their little bundle together. The way it should have been.

She walked inside, setting the package down on her table and tossing her keys on the end table.

She grabbed the letter opener, slicing the brown masking tape that kept the box sealed.

Inside were more toys and onesies. She smiled slightly at one that had a mustache pun on it.

She shook her head, her heart feeling warm. She picked up the card at the bottom of the box, looking at the familiar handwriting.

“Making sure my babies are taken care of. Text me when you can... please”

She sighed, grabbing her phone from her pocket, a text from Shawn already flashing on her screen

“It said the package was delivered today. I hope you like it”

She smiled, opting to finally respond.

“You're going to spoil this kid”

She didn't want to let him back in, but there was something pulling her to him. Something that made her miss the way things were. The way they were.

Probably the hormones.

“Lol well they deserve it. So do you”

She felt warm reading his texts. Like nothing had changed between them, like she didn't spend the last 7 months practically hating him.

Now here she was, 3 months pregnant, acting like things were the same, even though she knew they weren't. Not even a little bit.

She finally let him come to an appointment with her, even though she had doubts. She had told herself she’d do this alone. That she didn't need him or want him to have any part of this.

She did have to admit, though, it was nice having him by her side.

“There's your baby!” The nurse said, pointing out the tiny human on the monitor.

The rapid heartbeat of the tiny being filled the room, filling her heart with love.

“Wow... it's so small” He said, staring at the screen in awe.

He looked at her, tears forming in his eyes, his hand placed on top of hers

“We made this”

She bit her lip, eyes scanning his face without him knowing. He looked... happy. His face was full of love for their child and for a moment, she felt guilty for his she acted. She knew he deserved it, after all she went through. But their baby didn't. They deserved a father. Something she never had.

“Shawn... I”

“It's a girl!” The nurse said, interrupting her statement.

Shawn smiled wide, his hand moving from her hand to belly.

“A girl. My baby girl”

She wanted to cry. This was everything she ever wanted and yet... she still felt sadness. Sadness that things wouldn't ever be the way they were supposed to.

Something was wrong. She could feel it. She felt way more nauseous than normal and the vast amount of pain that was coursing through her body was concerning.

The most worrying part was the blood.

“No” She panicked

“No no no no no no” She winced in pain as more blood was on her hand.

“No no no please God no”

She didn't know what to do. The pain was blinding and she barely felt like she could move. She reached for her phone, dialing the first number that came to mind.

“Hey babe!” Camilla said, her voice cheerful

“H-help” Ava cried out, the shooting pain causing her vision to blur white

“Ava? Honey what's wrong?”

“P-pain... blood... my baby”

“Ava, stay with me. I'm grabbing my coat and calling you an ambulance. I'll be there before they do and I'll get Shawn”

“No!” She shouted, groaning in pain as her vision became blurry. “I d-don't...”

“Now is not the time to be stubborn, Ava.”

She wasn't sure why she was being so stubborn. If what she believed was happening was true, she couldn't face him. Couldn't face the reality of having lost both things she loved.

She couldn't keep her eyes open any longer, the phone dropping from her hand, the faint sounds of her name being yelled from the phone.

“Please save my baby” was the last thing she muttered before everything went dark.

The incessant beeping and the smell of ammonia filled assaulted her senses. She scrunched her eyes closed, fighting off the pounding headache, finally fluttering her eyes open, white light blinding her.

She counted to 3, attempting to open them again.

She tried to move, a dull ache in her body and the tugging of cords stopped her.

She felt her belly instinctively, praying that it was she could still feel her. Her baby girl.

She did. She was still there. She wanted to cry tears of joy.

“Baby! Oh my God, you're awake” She heard a voice say. Shawn.

Her eyes fluttered up, staring at his face. He looked like a literal angel under the white lights of what she assumed was the hospital.

“You scared me, I thought I lost you.” He said, his hand on hers, as his lips met her forehead. His voice was shaky and he had tear tracks down his cheek.

“My baby..” Was all she could get out.

“She's fine. We're waiting for the test results now to see what happened. God, I'm so glad you're okay. I don't know what I would have done.”

She nodded slowly, her eyes fluttering as she struggled to keep them open.

“Get some rest, baby. I'm right here”

She nodded again, allowing her eyes to shut, letting the exhaustion overtake her.

Placenta abruption is what they called it, meaning her placenta detached from the uterus. The words sounded foreign to her, like they were made up.

They said they baby was fine, she just was at risk for premature birth. The thought scared her. More than the pain of childbirth itself.

She was always careful, sure not to stress herself too much or do too much activity that would cause any complications. She felt like she failed.

They insisted she be left in the care of someone. Someone who could watch her and make sure she was taking it easy.

She was sure she could get the time off work. That wasn't the issue. The issue was she needed to stay with someone.

Her sister just got married, so she wasn't an option. Her mother was far too old and lived in Florida, which the doctor said would be too risky to fly all the way there.

Camilla could work, but she had her own tour starting in a week, meaning she would still end up alone. The only other option was the one she didn't even want to consider.

Sure, she and Shawn were getting along. They were even back to being what could be called friends.

But the idea of living with him again, even if it was just for 2 and a half more months, in the house that held all the memories, good and bad, was far too much to process.

“It's not an option” she told him. “I'd rather stay on my own”

“Ava, stop being so stubborn. I know what I did and I know you haven't forgiven me but this isn't about us. It's about your health and our baby.” He pleaded “just… please.”

She sighed, too exhausted to keep fighting a fight she knew she was going to lose. He was her only option.

“Fine. But I don't have to be happy about it”

She walked through the door of the familiar condo, the memories flooding back to her like a tidal wave. The laughter, the joy, the kisses, the heartbreak. All of it crushing her.

Shawn placed her bags down in the foyer, turning to stare at her.

“Well um. You know where everything is.” He stated, scratching the back of his neck “You can take the bed”

“No, I'll take the couch.” She stated firmly.

She couldn't sleep in that bed. Not after everything.

“Why?”

“You know why, Shawn.”

His eyes went soft, the realization hitting him.

“I'm sorry.. I didn't think about that..But I won't let you sleep on the floor”

“I'll take the couch” She said, making her way to sit down, hoping to take the pressure off her legs.

“That's even worse” He pouted. If things were different, would have kissed him.

“I'll be fine. Plus, I'm not going to take your bed from you”

“It was our bed at one point..” He mumbled. She chose to ignore the statement, not wanting to get into another battle. Right now, all that mattered was that her baby was safe. No stress.

“Ava, please take the bed. I'm supposed to be taking care of you”

“No, you're supposed to be making sure I don't overwork myself. I can take care of myself”

“Still the most stubborn girl in the world” He said, shaking his head, a soft smile on his face.

She couldn't help but smile back. “But also the cutest”

He chuckled, his eyes scanning her face. “Yes. Yes you are”

Things were easy with Shawn. The month and a half had blown by and she barely felt like time had moved at all. It was like they were back in sync.

The constant laughter. Staying up till all hours of the morning just talking about life and their child and all the things they wanted for her. It was like a dream.

He’d even set up a little bed next to the couch, pillows and blankets lining the floor, just so he could be close to her.

She was annoyed at first, feeling like her privacy was compromised, but soon it felt natural. It felt right. She felt like she was home again. Like the events of the past were completely erased and they began to relearn each other.

They would cook together, having mini food fights and laughing, her with flour in her hair and him with eggs in his. It was just like before. Like nothing had changed. Like their relationship hadn't fell apart.

It was terrifying.

The idea of letting him back in seemed less foreign and more welcome. Something she originally shut down without question now seemed like a strong possibility.

She always loved Shawn. She always would love Shawn. What he did will always eat at her heart, but somehow, she found herself ready to forgive him.

And there she was, laying her head on his shoulder as the stared at the movie on the screen. His thumb stroked he knee gently as his head rested on hers. Her body felt warm. Like she was finally back to where she needed to be.

She was finally home.

She felt his head lift from hers, turning to look at her. She lifted her head as well, eyes meeting his.

“Ava” He said, voice barely above a whisper.

“Hm” she hummed, bracing herself for his words.

“I'm sorry I hurt you the way I did.. I regret it every single day. But I wanted to say thank you.. For allowing me back in. For letting me part of our daughter's life. Just.. Thank you. I love you so much. More than words can begin to say”

She wanted to cry. She knew she was falling for him again, as much as she resisted. She knew what this could mean. After everything.

But she finally stopped fighting it. And so she kissed him. A soft kiss, no longer than a few seconds, but it said everything she needed it to say.

She loved him. And she was ready to take the leap. She wanted him with her. With their baby. And she was scared like hell, but she was willing to give it a shot.

“SHAWN, IT'S HAPPENING” She cried out, wincing from the extreme pain she felt.

Her water broke as she was attempting to stand up, feeling the urge to pee. She was both excited and petrified at the same time. This was really it. She was going to meet her baby in person.

“What?! Now?! Fuck, okay, where's the bag? Shit where are my keys? Fuck fuck fuck okay, do you have everything?” He panicked, racing around like a mad person

“Honey, I'm already freaking out, I need you to not freak out” she laughed, wincing in pain as another contraction hit.

“Sorry, sorry. Okay, let's go” He said, holding her hand, placing the other on the small of her back. “It's baby time!”

Arya Marie Mendes.

Born February 12th, 2019

7 Lbs., 4 oz.

19 inches long.

She was perfect. Her button nose and head full of brown hair already. Her sparkling brown eyes, just like her father.

Ava stared at her in awe as she held her, her heart full of love for her daughter.

“You did it, baby. You did it” Shawn cooed at the bedside next to her, his finger gently stroking the baby girl’s cheek.

She cooed at him, eyes closed and a tiny yawn escaped the little baby.

“She's so perfect. We made her. She's ours” Shawn said, his voice full if wonder.

Ava nodded, eyes fixated on the little girl. She looked up at Shawn. “Do you want to hold her?”

He nodded, taking the baby from her arms. She stirred at first, looking like she was going to cry but settled immediately, cooing again as her eyes fluttered closed.

“It’s okay, baby girl. Daddy's got you. Daddy will always protect you.”

Ava smiled, her heart full of love for the family she always wanted.

His eyes looked at Ava, full of love and adoration. “I love you, so much.” He said, a smile on his face.

“I love you.” She said, smiling at the two of them.

They may not be perfect. He may have ruined them at first, but she knew he meant it when he said sorry. That he loved her. And she trusted that. He swore it wouldn't happen again.

It may take a while to fully trust him again, but none of that mattered right now. Right now she had him, and their beautiful baby girl. And, for right now, that was enough.

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fanfics #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes imagine #shawn #shawn peter raul mendes #my work #wow im so happy this is done lol #feedback appreciated

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madman-and-daffodils · 5 years

Photo

11.11.2018 9.10 p.m.

Jerry died on the 26th of February, 2017 somewhere between 2.40 pm to 2.50 pm. We were supposed to write our board exams from March 1. I just completed my morning study and had my lunch. Exactly at 2.35 pm, I was recording this scene where quicksilver evacuates the students from Charles Xavier’s institute from X-Men: The Apocalypse. Somewhere between 2.37 to 2.40 pm, mom got a call from our relatives. I saw mom’s face go dull. My heart rate goes awry when this happens. Did someone die? And mom says, after much coercion that jerry is very ill and hasn’t eaten for almost two days. I thought they were just exaggerating. Jerry was always like that. Doesn’t eat much. In fact, she doesn’t even touch her food when her sons Mani and Subbu eat a part of it. I don’t know if it was some sort of etiquette it followed or it just wanted its sons to eat. Mom brushed it off too. After ten minutes maybe, dad called my mom.

‘’Enna achu?” I asked my mom, my heart thumping.

“Poiduchu.” She said.

“Enna?”

“Jerry. Jerry erandhurchu”

I have to admit something here. I am melodramatic when it comes to crying. You either hear no sound or the roof comes down. So, the roof did come down that day. At least, for me. Without much thought process.

So I started screaming, crying, banging my hands on the wooden sides of the sofa I was sitting, hoping that some other sort of pain would help me get out of this nightmare.

“Epdi ma, epdi?” I ask my mom, between my wails. “Therilaye. Died silently.”

I ran to my room.

A classic jerry. Silent ah, adhu paatuku, orama.

According to me, jerry was more human, than an animal to me. Trust me. This is not some cliché phrase people say about dogs. It was like, I related more to her than any other person in this world. It was never this jumpy, clingy, let me lick your face, I’ll sit on your lap and cuddle kind of dog. Whenever we visited our cousin’s place, all these three dogs (Mani, Subbu, and jerry) would come down the stairs so swiftly. Mani and Subbu would just pounce on us at once, trying to lick us, smell us. But then, jerry, this woman, would just stand there silently, give us a decent head rub on our legs and wag its tail. We used to give her our share of cuddles too and just go about it. Was it giving us our space, by staying back, letting us enjoy with Mani and Subbu or did it just know that it was no more the star dog of the family, though we loved it equally and respected it more for its calmness. Jerry was a very decent dog too. It usually got out of the hall and went to the porch when we sat for our lunch and dinner. Doesn’t, sorry, didn’t sniff around or cause that ruckus our elders hate. It always sat in a corner, not disturbing anyone, ate its meals sincerely whenever they gave it, giving sharp barks and running to the front of the porch the moment it heard footsteps, killing rats and throwing it away.

I didn’t have much pictures of jerry, something I realised after it died. Something I still feel guilty about. I loved you just like I loved the other dogs, jerry. And there was something I noticed. Her profile was dripping of innocence and gloominess. As though someone she was scared of was glaring at her. But her eyes though, her russet eyes, with a tint of ember, was always intriguing me. It was filled with so much life, too much life, gleaming like a bright star. Ava moonji evloku evlo pavama, sogama irundhucho, ava kannula adhukum mela uyir irundhuchu. Anju second ku mela patha, apde nenju ipokooda pada pada avudhu, ipokooda.

Now coming to the part where my family had deduced a probability of how jerry died. A few weeks before, the night of February 10th, jerry’s leg was bitten and parts of her flesh came off in a brawl it had with half a dozen stray dogs. It happened when both the dogs were barking at each other from both sides of a locked gate. Jerry ulla. Avanga veliya. One of those dogs bit jerry’s legs when her leg was exposed through a gap the gate had at the bottom. None of my relatives knew what happened. Jerry never gave any cries of pain. Silence. Jerry. The next day morning, everyone sees the gore. They call the doctor; get the medicines, the cream and all that stuff. Jerry was actually improving. It started to climb stairs after a week, with a bit difficulty though, but it was an improvement we celebrated. And everything went back to normal. But the medicines were still given as it wasn’t recovered completely. Maybe it swallowed the cream and it poisoned her (although the cream was just turmeric and completely organic and it is okay for dogs to lick it, the vet said) or maybe it swallowing the cream inflicted some sort of food poison. The symptoms looked like that, it seems. My grandpa carried jerry to our terrace for it to pee during its last days. She was that weak. And I never knew about it. Was probably learning Thirukural at that time.

I went to our cousin’s place after hearing about jerry’s death. Mani and Subbu jogged and stared at me from the top of the stairs. Only Mani and Subbu. Jerry erangi varala ena paka. And it deepened the wound in my heart so much, knowing that here after, I would only see two dogs every time I visit that place. I don’t know if I would ever be able to describe that feeling in words. Amidst all of us in each corner of the house, I’d say I was the loudest in my wails and there was this one moment, one moment which made me look at dogs as Godly beings. When my Subbu placed its front paw on my thighs and patted me, giving a small squeak. I hugged Subbu. We sought comfort in each other. It was ethereal.

But do you really believe grief over the death of a loved one brings us closer to our family, or friends for that matter? I don’t know. I don’t. When jerry died, it was about who was to blame, for a few people. Didn’t my family take proper care? No? I didn’t really care. During that time, I was off social media too, owing to my exams. I think I told that jerry died only to two of my close friends, when I was filled till the top of my throat with grief. They didn’t know what to say; I didn’t know how to carry myself. I just informed two more of my friends, solemnly, controlling my tears, the next day and I just shut myself out from the whole world. I hated the world. I couldn’t help it. I hated the people who didn’t allow me to grieve your death jerry. A few hours after she passed, I was asked to study. I was sent back home. From that day, till March 3rd, I was, what do you call them? Yes, a zombie. Not having anyone to talk or cry about jerry’s death, I used to simply stare at my books, trying to read the lines with so much difficulty and just start crying suddenly; Suddenly. Just. Like. That. And I made sure no one in my house knew about my overpowering madness at that time. Talking when there’s no one in the room, seeing jerry’s eyes when my tears blurred my vision, waking up early and working out till my body gave up, listening to really, really loud music and not being able to sleep unless I heard these bin aural beats or chakra music which put me into a state of unconsciousness, I would say. I didn’t really feel like I was sleeping.

Some of my friends started to hate on me briefly, for avoiding them during this brief ordeal at that time, some of them gave me my space and one of my closest pals didn’t even know the news. I didn’t want her to be affected by this during exams. Someone who would cry even for a stray animal. Someone who wanted to see jerry for so long. Who wouldn’t see Jerry anymore.

I remember how Jerry looked too when it died. Her mouth open, teeth seen. Her body, a strange kind of stiff, a stiff dead beings have maybe? But its eyes, oh its eyes, they were still the same. Full of life and the same power which drew me to her. Jerry. The puppy that couldn’t even climb the stairs or walk straight when it came to our house.

After a few months, after becoming completely sane, back to normal, my sister and I were sitting in our room. And I said, out of the blue, “Don’t you think Jerry was kinda like me?” It was such a weird question. I myself don’t understand the point of it, that I think about it now. And her answer was something I’d remember and preserve till my last breath. “Yeah. I’ve felt that way too”

Song lyric : [ KARUPPI] Irandhadhu neeya iruppadhu naana Iruppadhu neeya irandhadhu naana

......

Rendu kaalilo naalu kaalilo Indha mannilae ulavittu kedakka Naai illadi nee Naan illayaa nee

#dog #diary #write

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mcrcelo · 5 years

Photo

○○○ — A Mother’s Betrayal + Truancy Letter — ○○○

As Marcelo rouse from a heavy slumber, he was first aware of the coolness of the room and its distinctive smell of iodoform. His back was stiff as if he’d slept on a bed of earth and rocks. He gazed down at his mother who remained soundless as her head occupied his lap. She refused to leave the hospital since his Aunt Ava was brought in therefor Marcelo found himself drifting off next to her in the uncomfortable family lounging room chairs since returning from Lake Tahoe. He lifted the hoodie he would drape over her every night to keep Parisa warm and moved the curly black tresses that fell over her face. “Come on mami, we gotta get you cleaned up and something to eat.” He cooed as he gently tapped the side of her face. Upon hearing her son’s raspy voice, Parisa burrowed herself into the warm, soft fabric of his joggers that was coated with her tears; a signal to let her be in which he disregarded as he continued to nudge her awake. A restless yawn released from his mother’s lips as she straightened up in her chair. Giving her a moment to shed the sleep from her brain and allow the visions of the night to provide a way to the day, Marcelo stood and grabbed his mother by the hand, leading her to a private bathroom.

"Celly, this isn't your job. You should be enjoying your teenage years like a normal person your age. I don’t want you coddling me, lord knows you and your siblings have been doing that yall whole lives. Go home and get some decent sleep, I’ll be okay. " Parisa weakly spoke which Marcelo only ignored as he collected a few paper towels from the dispenser before turning on the sink. He appreciated his mother’s concern, but Marcelo had seen and done things not the average teenager could comprehend. Held dark secrets that would drive the average teenage insane, thus, he'd given up on the thought of normality. As someone with a Manichean view, he thought that you were either born in a world of good or bad. In Marcelo’s case, the cards weren't stacked in his favor, and while his mother dreamed of a better future for him, he'd accepted his anomalous lifestyle. "Shh mami, I’m where I want to be. I’m a son returning the care of his mother when he was at his lowest." He voiced as he wiped away the dried mascara staining her cheeks. Once Parisa was somewhat presentable, they emerged from the bathroom and made their way to the cafeteria. While she found them a place to sit, Marcelo searched for something to fill their stomachs. He settled on a breakfast sandwich and coffee for the both of them before paying for their food and returning to their table in the dining area. As he sat down across from Parisa, placing her meal down in front of her, Marcelo observed her features, and it made him bite his bottom lip stressfully. The depths of his mother’s grief was starting to tarnish her whether youthful looks. Restive dark bags hung under her eyes and wrinkles seemed to appear on a forehead overnight. He intertwined his fingers with her’s, catching a dazed Parisa attention. “Titi going to be okay.” He tried to reassure though he wasn’t positive himself. She might wake up, but nobody knew what her mental state would be like.

Parisa lowered her orbs to the wooden surface. “I know, it’s just why didn’t she feel like she could come to me before--.” Her lip quivered as the whimpers she fought to swallow released from her lips. “This is just a lot for me right now, I feel like I’m failing everyone I love. It’s bringing me back to when I almost lost you. How did it take my son ending up on a ventilator for me to realize he had a problem? Now you’ll never be the same because I didn’t get you help in time.” Once he had been the boy that held her hand on the way to swings, squealing with delight and demanding to be pushed higher. He had been generous with his smiles and free with his hugs. By the age of eleven, the remoteness had begun, and she chalked it up to hormones. That was her first mistake. Soon after that, his grades collapsed, and anger seemed to be the only emotion anyone could get out of him. Preteen years rolled around, and officers would drag him to a detention center with charges like thief, assault, arson, and her heart had felt like it was beating in a tight cage every time. Then the hospital called to inform her that he had overdosed, the day after his eighteenth birthday, Marcelo was vegetated with a machine breathing for him. Parisa beated herself up for not noticing all the signs of her son’s deteriorating mental health until it was almost too late and she still felt like he was withholding demons from her. "I made my own choices ma, and you can't blame yourself for that. You did the best you could under the circumstances we were living in. You had your own hell you were going through with Eliseo.” Marcelo uttered, giving his mother’s hand a soft squeeze.

Parisa composure stiffened when her ex-husband’s name was brought up. “Speaking of Eliseo, I uh, I need to tell you something. Your father and I have been talking and-” Her voice trailed slowly like her words were unwilling to take flight as she glanced up at Marcelo. A burning rage hissed through his body like deathly poison, releasing in the form of unwanted glower in her direction. “You called my father?” She could hear the hurt of betrayal in his voice generating a sigh from her lips. “I’m sorry Celly, but I got a letter from your school, and then you disappeared without telling anyone where you were going, I had to-”

“You called my father?” He repeated as his hand shrink back from her’s

"Listen to me baby boy! I was scared you relapsed or got into some type of trouble, I had to call the school and find out you were on some camping trip. You can’t do things like that and expect me not to freak out, I didn’t have much of a choice. Now, me and your father have been talking, and Eliseo thinks you should finish your senior year online with him in Santo Domingo. You can stay in his guest house and he can get you into Universidad Autónoma de Santo Domingo once you get your diploma. I also had a conversation with Mr. Mobission, and it's obvious Beverly Hills High isn't equipped to deal with your situation. They let you get on a bus to the middle of nowhere when they have your medical records stating that you suffer from Intermittent Explosive Disorder and epilepsy. What if you had a seizure? What if someone had pushed you to the point of no return? They put you and the rest of your peers in danger. You’re eighteen going on nineteen so I can’t force you to go to school, but they’re talking about holding you back if you don’t get your attendance up. I just want to have options, Celo. Plus, it gives you a chance to fix your relationship with your father. He’s been getting help like you are and-- ” Marcelo didn’t let her finish that sentence. His chair screeched across the floors, standing to his feet. “Eliseo doesn’t give options, he makes demands. If he wants me to move to Santo Domingo, I don’t have much of a choice, and you know that! Here I was thinking you had my back, but you really ‘bout to send me to live with a nigga who damn near beat you to death right in front of his kids?.” It was like a volcano erupted; fury sweeping off him like ferocious waves. His wrath started to swallow him whole and engulf his moralities. “The same nigga who has broken bones of both of your sons while they were trying to protect you! You know what, I shouldn’t be surprised because you always go crawling back to him whenever shit gets tough for you no matter how many times he beats your ass. All it takes is an apology and some half ass lie about him being a changed man. What about Marco?!” Marcelo breath got caught in his lungs, realizing the name that carelessly slithered from his lips. His blinded rage almost exposed the four-year secret he was keeping from his family, but being under father’s watchful eye would make it even harder to see his son than it already was and that had Marcelo panicking. “Look, I-I need some air.” He stumbled back, trotting towards the exit of the cafeteria as Parisa called out to him.

#. ⬩ * мarcelo . / developмenт.#. ⬩ * мarcelo . / para.#this is long

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clevernewdimension · 6 years

Text

Unearthly Delights Part Sixteen (M)

Preview, One, Two (M), Three, Four (M), Five, Six (M), Seven (M), Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven(M), Twelve (M) , Thirteen (M), Fourteen (M), Fifteen, Sixteen, Seventeen (Coming soon!)

Genre: Drama, Smut, Action, Romance, Supernatural Creatures and Monsters AU

Pairing: JunmyeonxCharacter

Word Count: 6.1K

AN: So... finally give a little bit of what the people have been asking for but... if the ending shocked you, feel free to message me your reaction ;D

I didn’t exactly know how this happened. All I was doing is leaving work, but the next thing I knew, someone pulled me into a alley and tried to push a stake into my chest. I was holding it back with minimal effort. The man was glaring, trying his hardest as I just sighed. “Really dude,” I ask glaring, “You really want to murder someone?”

“Shut up, leech,” He growls, glaring.

I twist the stake in his hand, causing it to fall before kicking it to the other side of the alley. It skidded to a stop about twenty feet away as the man glares daggers at me. I look at him, this young man with anger in his eyes. “Why,” I ask.

He says nothing as I sigh, before letting him go and walking away. It’s not worth hurting him. They’ll just blame me, even if he did try to kill me. That’s how things worked, now.

“I was expecting you to rip his arm off,” a voice says.

I turn, seeing Sehun. I wave, “Want to come with me for cheap diner food?”

He nods, falling into step with me.

“You’re actually Sehun, aren’t you,” I ask, looking at him. “I mean… after what happened last time you can’t blame me for asking, right?”

He rolls his eyes, before moving his jacket and showing me the Archangel blade. I nod, before walking into the city. The city may never sleep, but it does get drowsy before everyone wakes for work. The people who make food and things for everyone are up before anyone else, just as some people are shuffling home to bed. Sehun pulls the door open as I smell the food being cooked. We move to the bar, taking two seats away from the door as a woman smiles, stopping in front of us with a pad of paper.

“What can I get you both,” She asks, her accent with a hint of Southern in it. Her hair was pinned back and her uniform with a few food stains. She must have worked all night.

“Coffee and pancakes,” Sehun says with a smile.

“Coffee and just a mountain of hashbrowns,” I say without looking at the menu. “Two orders?”

She nods, glancing at me, “I suppose you could use the calories.”

Sehun holds back a laugh as I punch his arm. She walks away, getting the order to the cook and moving on.

“So, following me again,” I ask, looking up. “Please tell me Junmyeon didn’t put you up to this.”

“No,” Sehun says rolling his eyes as two cups of coffee and a bowl of individual creamers was placed between us. “Truthfully, I can’t sleep lately, so I just wanted some company for a bit.”

“I feel bad for all the people who ask to fuck you all night if you’re not tired,” I mutter, pouring some sugar into mine along with three creamers.

“A lot of people are shockingly bad at sex, Ava,” He mutters, pouting a little. “I’m shocked you don’t know that.”

“Most of the time I’ll get them to make me reach the O zone or else,” I say with a smirk, taking a long sip from my mug. It tasted like it did before, just… a bit duller. Still delicious, just not as good as blood.

“‘The O zone? No wonder Junmyeon likes you so much,” He mutters, shaking his head with a small smile. “I can’t exactly do that,” He says, “Granted, I will have people who I know are bad pay more.” The smirk on his face grows thinking about it.

“I mean if they can’t satisfy you then why not line your pockets a bit more,” I agree. “How does it work with the club, though?”

“Junmyeon takes twenty percent, not including tips,” Sehun explains. “Most other places take above fifty for renting the space and general just ‘give us money’ cost. So he’s actually incredible. Since selling sex is technically still illegal in New York, we offered him more since it’s a risk.”

“That’s nice,” I nod, “After all, your body is your instrument and taking care of it is a hassle. And technically?”

“Not when you’re a shapeshifter,” He says, eyes flashing to orange, his hair shifting to white. “It’s illegal for humans to sell sex. Sometimes I shift into a human. That and while it’s legal for everyone but humans, they don’t particularly like it.”

“I’m sure the, you know, holy blood and whatnot helps too,” I say, pretending to pray.

He playfully pushes me, trying not to smile. Our food was soon placed before us as I quickly douse my hash browns in ketchup. The color a bit too close to blood, the faint tickle of hunger. Sehun watched all around us as he ate, he was always on the lookout.

Breakfast was done, and we were walking out. The city full alive and moving as we walked. It was our last night of work, so tomorrow I had the day off. Sehun told me about his plans to do something other than run errands and worry. I told him that I was going to just relax, give Chanyeol a moment to rest as my go to dinner and dessert combo.

Sehun laughs, “Trust me, he doesn’t mind at all. I’m pretty sure if you decided to move to another country and call him telling him you wanted him, he’s fucking swim the ocean for it.”

“Really,” I ask, smiling.

Sehun laughs with a smile, “You know him, he loves helping a friend,” He says. “Also he loves to fuck. Can’t blame him for both.”

“I gathered that,” I say with a laugh.

He smiles, looking at me, “I didn’t tell you this, but I think you better keep your schedule open tomorrow. Jun is going to surprise you.”

I feel my face flush, “Oh, really?”

He nods, “Yeah.” A quick glance to me, “I’m glad you’re serious about this. With him.”

“What about you,” I ask, holding a to go coffee and taking a sip. “We always talk about my weird romantic life. Surely you have to have something going on?”

“Romantically? No,” He says, shrugging. “Kind of comes with the territory of having a crush who doesn’t like you the same way back.”

“Ouch,” I say, frowning. “Do I know them?”

He shrugs, “Yeah. Kind of hard for a person with archangel blood to be involved with demon after all. So I just settle for the occasional friendly fuck and be on my merry way.”

I frown, “I’m sorry, Sehun.”

He genuinely doesn’t seem that bothered, though, “You can’t make someone like you like that, after all. Besides, I think I want to ask Yixing out.” He smiles softly, looking a bit shy as he looked down at the ground. “He’s handsome, and kind. I think if we take some time to actually hang out alone, something could be there for me. I don’t know if he’d say yes, but…”

“It doesn’t hurt to ask. You deserve to be happy, Sehun,” I nod with a smile, putting a hand on his shoulder and giving it a squeeze of encouragement.

He just nods back, as with a quick hug, we go on seperate paths.

Sure enough, tomorrow around mid day I got a text from Junmyeon. Asking me if I’d like to come over.

Soon, I was stepping out of an uber at his house. I smiled, moving and opening the front door. I smile, seeing him at the bar in the kitchen. Laptop in front of him, finders tapping away. I move, smiling and reaching over, pulling his head to the side and pressing my lips to his immediately.

A sound of surprise for a moment before I feel him smile. I pull away, looking at him with a grin.

“Hello handsome,” I mutter, “What brought this on?”

“You told me to stop ignoring you,” He says with a smile, “I decided to listen.”

“Smart,” I smile. “See what you were missing all this time?”

He nods, a small smile on his face, a light pink blush across his cheeks. “I wanted to try to help you learn to swim,” He says, closing the laptop. “Since, you know, you can’t drown to death.”

“If you wanted to make me wet there are better ways, you know,” I joke, grinning at him.

“I’ll keep that in mind for later,” He mutters back as he gets off the chair. He presses me against the wall, a hand moving to my hip and the other one on my face. “Not that I would need any advice for that, though,” He mutters, before pressing his lips to mine once more.

This kiss was searing. Tongue licking into my mouth and the grip on my hip tightened. I let out a little moan just as he pulled away, a smile on his face.

“I figured we’d just use the normal pool,” He explains, acting as if he didn’t just kiss the breath out of me.

I just nod, he takes my hand, lacing our fingers together. I followed, as he smiles at me, “Taemin picked out a bathing suit for you.”

“If it is anything but black, I’d rather swim nude,” I roll my eyes.

Junmyeon smiles, “While I wouldn’t mind, I feel like the view would get too distracting after a while.”

“So nude it is,” I say with a laugh. He gives me a pointed look, that makes me laugh. “What? I’ve been very forthright about wanting to fuck you senseless, Boss.”

“If anyone would be senseless after, it would be you Darling,” He says back with a smile.

“I’ll take that as a promise.”

He lead me to a bathroom outside beside the pool. It was large, very deep in some places as I could feel my heart race a bit. I duck into the outdoor bathroom. I look at the bag in there, smiling when I see a black two piece, I disrobe, pulling the bottoms on and the thin, triangle bikini. It was fairly plain, the triangles able to be moved and pushed to the side. The bottom might as well been a thong with how much of my ass showed. I see a note in the bag that I pick up.

‘If this doesn’t get you that dick, nothing will. - T’

I roll my eyes, of course Taemin would. I’ve been hearing from him how he thinks I’ve lost my touch these past few days. Asshole, as if. I quickly put it on before leaving the changing room. I see Junmyeon in the water, still with two legs as he smiles. He glances over, his eyes going wide for a moment, face a bit red.

“Did you really expect Taemin to pick out something other than this,” I ask, turning and showing him the whole bikini. All of my ass pretty much on full display for him.

“You’re right,” He says, as I see his eyes move down, a small smirk. “I should have asked Sehun.”

I look down at the water, feeling my mouth go dry. The light making patterns in the tile underneath with moved and shifted as Junmyeon swam over. “I suddenly feel a bit sick.”

“If you puke in this one, there are three more, so don’t worry,” He says with a smile, trying to lighten the atmosphere with a joke.

I move, sitting down at the edge of the water, I let my feet dip in, the water warm. Above the water is was colder than in it, as I placed my hands over my arms and shivered a little.

Junmyeon stood up, smiling, “This is only three feet down, so you won’t have to swim yet, you could just stand.”

“If I drown, bury me with all my valuables and money,” I say, before closing my eyes. My heart almost beating out my my chest in fear as I pushed myself over the edge. The warm water slides up my legs and to my hips. I bit my lips, keeping my eyes closed as I feel Junmyeon’s hands on my arms, keeping me steady.

He smiles at me as I look at him. “See,” He says, “Not so bad. Also, you can’t drown. It’s just the fear you have to overcome.”

“Fearing something it actually pretty healthy,” I say, biting my lip. “Instincts are not something to ignore, you know.”

“Avelyna,” He says quietly, “It’s ok. Relax. You are tense. I’m going to ask you to float, but being tense makes your body sink a bit in water-”

“Fuck that,” I say, trying to move to the edge in order to get out. Junmyeon catches my hand, pulling me back. I frown, forgetting he’s stronger than me for at least a year or so.

“I won’t let anything happen,” He says, looking at me. “I will hold you the entire time. I know that you can’t drown and my saying that doesn't help after what you’ve been though-”

“Instead they can do the same thing and I’d be there forever since I can’t die and I’ll be there stuck forever,” I mutter, “Great. Even better.”

“I wouldn’t let them do that to you ever again,” Junmyeon says, nodding. “Do you trust me, Ava?”

“Yes,” I say immediately. The truth falling from my lips before I could stop it. Of course I trust him. I have for a while now.

“I’ll make sure you don’t sink,” He says, looking at me with a smile, his hand soft around my wrist.

I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. “Ok,” I say, nodding. It didn’t take long until my back was dipping in the water, my hand clutching his arm. One under my shoulders and the other holding my thigh. Any other time I would be making a joke about where his hand was but my heart was in my throat. My eyes closed as I could feel my breath getting quick.

“You have to relax,” He says.

“I can’t,” I say, my hands shaking.

Junmyeon’s eyes meet mine as he bites his lip, trying to think. He smiles, an idea coming almost instantly. He leans down, smiling at me before pressing his lips to mine. “Just focus on this,” He says, “I won’t let you sink.”

The hand on my thigh moved to my face, smiling as he moved and pressed his lips to mine again. I could feel myself react naturally, smiling a little in the kiss as I feel him softly bite my lip.

I moved my hands to his hair, holding the soaked locks. I hear a stifled little groan from him, making me smirk. His hand moves from my face to my side, his hand stroking my side, thumb rubbing into my skin.

I smile, pulling on his hair a little. He mutters a curse as I quickly let my tongue meet his. He groaned hand holding me tighter for a moment before letting go, moving. Junmyeon kisses me like he’s afraid he’ll never see me again. Putting all the passion and care into it. He pulls away, looking me in the eyes with a smile.

He moves, showing his hands by his head. I freeze, looking and seeing myself floating on the water without any help. I move, gripping onto him tightly. I move, so that my feet are back on the ground as I bury my face in his chest. My heart racing already. I mutter, over and over, curses as I could feel tears in my eyes.

“That’s enough for today,” He says quietly, holding me. “I think you’ve done good.”

“Can I just never do this again,” I ask, my arms around his neck as I try to calm my beating heart.

I feel him pick me up, wrapping my thighs around him. Fingers digging into my skin as I could feel his breath on my neck.

He walks up the steps easily. We were dripping water, as he just walked inside. I feel his lips on my neck as I let out a small sigh. I closed my eyes, feeling him nibble. “Avelyna,” He says quietly. The smell of his blood, the mint filling my senses.

I feel my back being pressed against a wall, a door shutting behind us. I look, seeing a bedroom. Large and very minimal. Black, white and grey. It was classy, as I feel him bite into the skin of my neck, sucking a mark there.

The smell was surrounding. The mint filled my senses as I could hear his heart beating fast with anticipation. A deep rumbling growl came from my chest as Junmyeon pulled away, looking me in the eyes. He smiles, hand moving to my mouth, seeing the fangs. Junmyeon just tilts his head, showing me his neck.

“I trust you,” He says quietly.

I lean forward, pressing a kiss on his neck first. I take a long smell, hearing the beating of his heart go faster before I bite into his neck as easily and painlessly as I could.

I moaned at first drop. It was weird, his blood was as refreshing as an ice cold glass of water after being in the desert. I moan loudly, hearing him whine. His fingers grip my ass, pressing me into the wall even more. The sounds falling from his lips were better than I could have ever imagined.

I gulped, feeding on his blood and losing my mind. It was delicious, almost addicting. I pushed my hips against his, trying to find some friction as I take one last drink, licking and healing the wound.

I pull away, licking my lips as I look at him. His eyes are wide with lust as his lips pressed against mine immediately. One of my hands on his shoulder digging in, nails scratching as hand moved to my hair. He pulls, giving himself access to my throat, a canvas for his marks.

“Avelyna,” He moans, biting into my skin, making me whimper.

“Please,” I mutter, “Please, I don’t want to wait anymore.”

Then we were moving, my back leaving the wall. I moves my hand, pulling at the strings of my bikini, letting it fall to the floor. My back meets the soft cover, our bodies making it wet with pool water.

He takes a moment to pull away, looking over my breasts that he’s seen a few times now. His hand moves to one, flicking at the hardened pierced bud. He smiles, moving and biting me again, making me shiver.

He rolls his hips against mine, making me let out a whine of need. I feel him lick all over, taking his time to really press kisses, bites and licks on every part of my skin he could. His tongue playing the with little barbels, looking up at me.

“Fuck,” I mutter, arching as I feel his fingertips pulling the strings at the sides of the bikini bottoms.

“Do you know how hard it is to resist you,” I hear him ask, teeth sinking into the side of my breast. I let out a gasp, shivering from the sensation. I feel him pull the last piece of my clothing from around me, throwing it onto the hard floor without a single care. “The most stunning and beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, throwing herself to me? It was like every single fantasy I could have ever wanted,” He mutters, stopping to suck a mark onto my stomach. He glanced up, biting before letting go. He looks proud at his work before he glances up, “And what Jongin did? Fucking you in front of me, making you look at me? I was about to break.”

I let out a moan feeling his fingers slide up my slit. The smallest of touches to my clit making me want to lose all brain function.

“If you would have followed me into my office, I would have bent you over and fucked you over and over until both of us couldn’t move,” He says, kissing right between my hip bones. “I would have had you on my couch spread out so I could make you cum on my tongue all night long.” Fingers gripping onto my skin, making my head spin as this was happening. It was finally happening. “Every dream, every fantasy... my entire being is so wrapped up in you I couldn’t forget you if I tried.”

“Please,” I mutter, “Please, Jun, ple-”

A hand grabs my chin, gripping tightly as I let out a whimper. He looks up at me, a small smirk as he just stared. “Is that what you could call me?”

That smirk. Those words. They turned me on more than anyone ever has. It was like I was finally getting something that was forbidden. “Daddy,” I mutter, feeling him let go of my chin.

“That’s it, baby girl,” He says with a smile, “Now, listen to everything I say. I wanted to do this nice and slow, but I can’t resist you anymore.” He bites into the skin of my thigh, making me hiss. “You do this to me. Now, if you listen to me, I’ll let you cum as many times as you want.” He glances above my head, “Grab onto the metal bars and don’t let go, am I clear?”

“Yes Daddy,” I say with a grin, moving my hands to grip the bars. He smiles, before moving. I let out a small whine, seeing him move towards the closet.

“Close your eyes,” He calls, and I do. I wait, feeling my heart beat fast as I hear him walking back. The bed shifts as I feel something at my entrance. I moan, feeling what feels like a dildo being shoved in me, before letting it stay exactly there. “Open your mouth and raise your head,” He demands, his voice practically begging me to ignore him.

I do as he says with my eyes still closed. I feel him press something in my mouth. Metal, making me keep it as open as I could. He tightens it around my head.

“This ok,” He asks, softly.

“Yes,” I say as best as I would, my mouth being forced open.

“If something happens that you don’t like, just say so. Tell me to stop.” He says, before I feel the bed shift. “Now, let me taste you like I’ve wanted to for so long.”

Those words send shivers down my spine.

His tongue flicks my clit immediately, making me gasp as he starts to thrust the dildo in and out quickly. No time for taking this slowly, as I was aching for him to just touch me in anyways possible. I muttered what I could, the words not making any sense. He moans, sucking on my clit and making me yell out. “You’re so fucking sensitive,” He mutters, “Just like I want. You’re so perfect, you know that? Perfect for me.”

I mutter, or try to, “Thank you Daddy.” I could feel the intensity building quickly.

“You’re welcome, baby,” He mutters, fingers pinching my clit, taking me moan and my hands grip the bars tighter. My back arches, as he angles the sex toy just right to make me start to lose it. His tongue practically assaulting my clit as I felt tears come to my eyes.

“Daddy,” I try to say, though it sounds a bit weird, “I need to cum!”

“Already,” He asks, tone with a hint of a bite. Like he was subtly mocking me. “Am I that good to you?

I bite my lip, before planting out, “Yes, you’re so good to me Daddy!”

“Then I guess you can cum,” He says.

I screamed, letting myself go in the pleasure as he kept going until I was breathing heavy and lying back. It felt like a star was burning out between my legs, the heat and intensity was so much. I rested against the bed, the orgasm ripped from me it felt like.

“Open your eyes,” He growls in my ear. I open them, looking him in the face as he smirks, dipping his finger in my mouth I lick at them, trying to wrap my lips around only to be stopped by the ring. “Good little slut,” He mutters, “Now, get on your knees so Daddy can fuck that pretty little mouth of yours.”

I move, scrambling and letting my knees hit the hard floor quickly. The toy in my pussy still there as he smirks, moving to stand in front of me. He pulls his swimming trunks off, his thick erection standing tall as he glances as he holds it out, letting me move and sliding it in my open mouth.

“I’m going to fuck your throat, Avelyna,” He says, one hand gripping my hair. His other hand opens, a small remote in it as he presses a button. I feel the vibrations between my legs and on my clit, making me shiver. “Squeeze my thigh three times quickly if you need some air.”

He pushes in, letting me lick all around as he pushed all the way so that my nose was buried in the well trimmed hair above his cock. I feel him in my throat, hearing him moan at the sensation.

He pushes the remote again, the vibrations a bit stronger. I roll my hips on nothing, feeling him pull out and push back in quickly. “That’s it, what a good little slut, arn’t you baby?”

The pace he started was slow, but soon got faster and faster. The sounds of him forcing his cock down my throat filled the room along with his moans and groans. His hand pulled at the hair, making me look up at him as my eyes were leaking tears. I loved this. Being used by him like this. Letting myself be a tool for his pleasure was such a turn on. Seeing him above me, letting himself go for the first time in a while made me feel proud. I did this. I was doing this to him. This side of Junmyeon I’ve never seen in person. I’ve dreamed about it. I’ve wanted it for so long and now that it’s here it felt so good. To know I was making him look so blissed out without trying made me proud.

“Baby girl,” He moans, “I’m going to cum. If you swallow it all I’ll let you cum as I get hard again.”

I moan, before feeling him slamming his hips, thrusting as he was grunting and moaning. The loud squelches as he was forcing his cock down my throat were like a drug. I wanted to hear more of it. I wanted him to use me like a toy more. I wanted just more of him. I could feel it, hot and thick in my mouth and down my throat. A few more thrusts and he stilled, cock twitching in my mouth. He pulls out, looking at me.

He frowns, hand moving and swiping up my chin. I see a bit of cum there.

“It seems,” He says, voice a bit cold, “That my baby girl doesn’t know how to follow instructions.”

His hands move, undoing the gag as I let my mouth close, my jaw sore from it as he wipes the cum on my lips. A hand in my hair as he pulls up. I stand, hissing at the pain before he shove me back on the bed. A quick pull over his lap and a hand smacks down on my naked flesh of my ass.

“Ah,” I cry, holding onto the bed.

“Count them,” He growls. “And thank me after each one. Start at one.”

The slap was harder, making me let out a sharp moan, “One! Thank you, Daddy!” The pain making me wetter with excitement. It felt so good, his hand on my ass, showing me how naughty I’ve been.

My heart was racing, feeling the stinging bite of his hand on my skin again. “Two,” I moan, “Thank you Daddy!”

“You naughty girl,” He mutters, “I do all of this for you and you disrespect me.”

This slap was on my other cheek. “Three, thank you Daddy!”

“I expect you to follow my orders, Avelyna,” He says, skin hitting my ass again, fingers massaging the flesh after every hit. The skin getting more sensitive as his hits got harder after every one.

“Four,” I mutter, feeling tears fall from my eyes. The mix of the pain and the pleasure from the still vibrating toy in me making me go crazy. “T-thank you Daddy!”

“You deserve this, you know,” He says, voice deeper than I’ve ever heard it. Laced with lust. “I still watch those videos you sent me. It turns me on so much I go out and have to find someone to fuck,” He says, slapping his hand down on the flesh of my ass.

“Five,” I yell, tears falling down my face as I smiled through the pain. “Thank you, Daddy!”

“But no one ever really satisfies me,” He says, hand rubbing the bright red skin, soothing it a bit. “No one can, when all I want is you.”

I feel him push the vibrator, so that it was pressed exactly where I needed it most. My hands gripped the bed, choking on my cries of pleasure.

He ignores me, massaging my ass from the assault it’s taken. “Will you be a good girl for Daddy? Hm?”

“Yes, I will, I promise,” I yell, losing control of the volume of my voice. “Daddy, can I cum, please?!”

“No,” He says, slapping his hand back down on my butt, before moving the hand and quickly pressing the vibrator again.

“Six,” I yelled, “Thank you, Daddy! Please!”

“Beg more,” He mutters, keeping himself in control. Truthfully, I could feel his hard cock against my stomach. He sounds bored, like he couldn’t care less, but his body gives him away. “Beg to me, Baby, and maybe I’ll let you cum.”

“Please, Daddy, please!” I cry, choking on my words as it took everything I had to cold back my orgasm. “I’ll do whatever you want! I’ll be a good girl just please let me cum!”

“Then do it already,” He says, slapping his hand down again on my butt one last time.

The burning hot fire of my pleasure shot through me as I screamed, shaking. His hands held me there, letting me lose my mind as he just pressed the vibrator in me more, not letting me escape from it. Words flew from my mouth along with screams as I was shaking like a leaf in the wind.

I feel him pull the vibrator out as I finally took a gasp of air, my body feeling like jello for a moment. Junmyeon picked me up, placing me on the bed carefully before laying next to me. He smiles, pressing a kiss to my lips.

I smile at him, before muttering agasint his lips, “Six. Thank you, Daddy.”

He smiles, keeping me close as his lips travel to my neck. “You did so well, baby girl.” His hands move behind me, softly massaging the globes of my ass with a smile. “The most beautiful person I’ve ever seen,” He mutters, kissing me slowly.

“Junmyeon,” I mutter, seeing him look at me with all the care in the world. “Please, I need you.”

He smiles, “Are you sure? I thought you would be tired by now.”

“I want you in me,” I says with a smile, “I’ve waited for so long. Please.”

Junmyeon smiles, before softly pressing his lips to mine.

“Master, Sehun is calling you,” Alice says through the room. “From the emergency phone.”

I frown, hearing that. Emergency phone, that’s bad, I would assume.

Junmyeon moves away, sitting up on the bed, eyes full of worry. The look on his face means it is bad. “Answer.”

A few moments later, I hear Sehun’s voice, “Myeon! I… they attacked. From nowhere. I couldn’t stop them.”

“Calm down,” Junmyeon says, his voice commanding. Similar how it was just moments ago. “Are you ok?”

“I’m coming to the club,” He says, “I… I have a hostage. You need to see this. You need to see what they’ve done. And I have to tell you… oh god, I have to tell you!”

“I’ll be right there,” Junmyeon says, standing and moving to get his clothes on. I get up, holding back a hiss from the pain. I quickly, look at him, waiting to heard the rest of the call before I go and get my clothes from the changing room.

“Be quick,” Sehun says, as I could hear him holding back something.

The call ends and I move, going to get my clothes. It didn’t take long for me to get dressed, back in the house. I see Junmyeon holding a gun, loading it and putting it in a holster under his arm, the safety on. He moves, taking my hand and pulling me into the garage.

The drive was long, traffic awful as we were speeding between cars on a motorcycle. We got there, and stormed in as we take the helmets off. I see Sehun at the bar, holding a bottle of whiskey as his hand was over his face, shoulders shaking. Minseok was there, as was Yixing, both of whom were shocked.

“What happened,” Junmyeon asks, voice commanding attention immediately.

“Jongdae and Taemin,” Sehun says, his eyes red as tears fell, “They’re dead!”

I felt my soul ache hearing that. My mind going to the blonde incubus, his smile and laugh. “What,” I ask, once I got to the bar.

Sehun nods, looking over. His eyes glaring as tears fell from his face, “Baekhyun sold us out! We were getting the weapons when a whole fucking group shows up out of no fucking where,” He yells, words sounding a little awkward with a little lisp. “The four of us went because that was who were near me when I got the call. Next thing I knew was there was a whole fucking army of high Winter court fae, Venture, the bitch that almost killed Ava and…”

He stops, his eyes wide as he glances at his friend.

“Who,” Junmyeon asked, looking at Sehun.

“A… someone like me, only they turned them into a vampire. They added some siren, too,” He glances over at Junmyeon. “I.. I have to show you. You won’t believe me if I just tell you.” Sehun wipes his eyes, tears still falling. “I went back. I got their bodies. I didn’t want them to fall to those fucks! They deserve proper funerals…”

Junmyeon’s hands were shaking, “Baekhyun betrayed us?”

“They said something. I think they have something or someone close to him,” Sehun says, glaring as he brought the bottle to his lips, taking large gulps.

“Take me to the hostage,” Junmyeon says, looking up at Sehun.

“They’re in the magical room,” He says, grabbing Junmyeon’s hand before he could walk past. “Just… Let me go with you-”

“I’ll be fine,” Junmyeon growls, glaring. “I need to make them talk.”

Sehun got up quickly, and now I could see a cut on his face, along with the sleeve that was away before tore off. A few cuts on his arm as he moves quickly. I follow, needing to see one of the people who killed Taemin.

It hits me then. Taemin. The man who has been a friend. The person who has been in my life the longest. The one who knows me better than I know myself. I feel tears come to my eyes, my heart aching. My anger rising, knowing that the person who has caused the greatest change in my life. I can’t focus on that right now. There will be time for mourning later. Now, it’s business.

Sehun gets there first, hand on the door. He looks at Junmyeon, eyes full of worry. “If you need me, I’m here.”

I get behind them as he opens the door. I can see the person, locked to a chair with glowing chains. They lift their head, a smile. Her dark blue hair in her face, as her eyes met a pair identical. I glanced at Junmyeon’s back. Watching him practically crumple. He moves closer, falling to his knees. The anger evaporated. He looks back at Sehun, eyes full of tears, already falling on his cheeks. He looks back at her, “Jaehwa.” His voice cracked, the sobs barely being held back.

Her eyes glare, looking from him, to Sehun and I. I’ve seen her picture. I know her story. She looks exactly like the picture Junmyeon carries. Like she never aged after sixteen. She looks back at the man in front of her, looking angry. “Hello brother,” She mutters, eyes glaring as they turn red, fangs protruding, a hiss coming from her. “Let’s talk,” She says, eyes full of hate as she looks at the man who has mourned her loss for years.

#exo smut #exo scenarios #exo fanfiction #suho smut #suho fanfiction #suho fanfic #junmyeon smut #exo fanfic

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