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suchalonelysunflower · 3 years

Text

You Said Forever (c.h)

Pairing: Calum Hood x Reader

Requested: Yes!

Summary: Based on the song “Driver’s License” by Olivia Rodrigo. You did everything you could to get over him, you talked to friends, went on long drives and even wrote him a song. Why cant you just let him go?

Warnings: Angst. Language. Mentions of alcohol. Some grammar mistakes? (English is not my first language, I’m sorry)

Word count: 6.7 k

Author’s Note: I’m so excited someone requested this! I highly recommend listening to the song before you read, references are in the text and dialogs. Please remember that Reblogs, Coments, Feedback and Likes are more than welcome and encouraged! You don’t know how much they help me 💕 Hope you like it and Happy reading 🦋

Fic of the week // My Materialist // wanna be part of my tag list?

@rime-warrior : Hey love! Has anyone requested an imagine for Calum based on the song “Drivers license” by Olivia Rodrigo yet? I think you’re the only one who would be able to do it any justice 😭💕

“I still see your face in the white cars, front yards

Can't drive past the places we used to go to

'Cause I still fucking love you, babe”

You could hear the doorbell ring over the thunderous storm raging outside. It was late, probably closer to midnight than you imagined. Who could possibly be outside right now? especially in this kind of weather?

After four consecutive rings, you decided to get up from your spot on the bed and walk up to the door. It must be something very important for someone to startle you that way.

Once you got closer to the door you could also distinguish some strong bangs coming from the other side accompanied by the endless ringing “Okay, okay! I’m coming!” You called, but whoever was standing opposite to you mustn’t have heard you as they continued to disrupt the peace of a stormy night.

A shiver ran down your spine before you could reach the doorknob, almost like the ghost of a feeling, a warning for you not to open the door. Despite your common sense, you decided to open the door, already being too late to go back.

“Calum?”

He was standing in front of you, completely drenched from head to toes. His breathing was uneven, almost like he ran all the way over here, but his eyes were set on yours, unmoving as you both tried to take each other in.

“Calum-what is?-” Your words got stuck in your mouth as he pushed himself forward, grabbing your face delicately as he clashed his lips with yours.

You felt yourself melt into the kiss, making it everything you ever wished for. You wrapped your arms around his neck and deepened the kiss as you brought him closer to you. He was here, he was finally here with you. It all feels like a dream.

Your alarm clock marked 6 AM when you jumped from your dreams into reality. You should’ve known, everything was too good to be true.

You brought one hand to your face, trying to wipe away the tiredness of your eyes, but you found your cheeks were humid due to tears you didn’t even know you shed through the night, damping your pillow sheets once again.

It was always the same dream: Calum coming back to you. Night after night your mind drifted to another reality where you’d meet again, sometimes it was at a concert, other at the local café of your neighborhood that you used to love so much, but tonight was the first night where he appeared at your house. Which was funny considering that he hasn’t stepped foot in this place for almost a year.

You pushed your thoughts away as you tried to go back to sleep. And you did try, but the tossing and turning made you restless, you cursed your mind as the only thing you could see when you closed your eyes was Calum, standing at your door and asking for a kind of forgiveness you weren’t sure you could give. Although, who were you kidding?

Checking the clock once again you realized it was 20 past 6, still too early to go back to real life, but not too early to start and try to live a little.

Pushing yourself off the bed, you grabbed a big hoodie and some pair of sweatpants before putting on your running shoes and hopping into the bathroom to brush your teeth and clean your face before grabbing your keys and getting out of the house.

You sat on the driver’s seat, just like you did a thousand times, taking a big breath before starting the engine.

“You do know you have a perfectly good car in your driveway, right?”

You smiled at him and greeted him with a hug and a kiss as you climbed into the passenger's seat.

It was your usual morning routine. Ever since you met and he found out you lived nearby the studio he always volunteered to carpool with you. Since then, your mornings were filled with hugs, good coffee and stolen kisses you gave each other as the road to the studio became longer and longer thanks to all the detours you took.

“Hello, Calum. I’m very good, thank you for asking, how are you?”

Calum rolled his eyes and gave you a little peck on your lips “I would’ve been on time if I hadn’t had to pick your ass from the other side of town”

You lightly punched him in the arm “You know you love me” He smiled.

“That I do, darling. But I would love you more if you drove us from time to time”

“You know I don’t have a car!” Calum turned to you and pointed to the classic mustang sitting in front of your house, raising his eyebrows as if to ask if you were stupid “That’s my dad’s car!”

“That he kindly gave to you when he helped you move to LA so you could pursue your dream of becoming the next new sensation of music,” He said mocking a dreamy voice to try imitating you “He said it was yours, so it's yours! And honestly, it’s a pretty cool car if you ask me. A real chick magnet”

You mocked a gag at his old reference of movies from the 50’s “Sexist much?” You both laughed as he started the car and started driving “Anyways, he only gave me the car because mom was threatening to sell it on eBay if he didn’t get rid of it soon enough, so he could still come and get it whenever he wants to” You shrugged.

Calum started sniffing the air, “What?” You asked, sniffing as well in case there was something wrong.

“Do you smell that?” He asked with a concerned face.

“Smell what?”

He leaned closer to you and sniffed harder before whispering “The bullshit”

You scoffed and pushed him back “Haha very funny”

You waited until he stopped laughing, you never told him the truth, well two truths actually.

One: That you enjoyed the drives you had with him, it was a special time for the two of you to be yourselves without anyone to judge. You would laugh, sing, talk for hours as you sat in traffic under the city lights. It was the little moments that matter for the two of you, these were your little moments and you didn’t want to give them up just yet.

It was not easy being in a “relationship” that no one knew about, not even his bandmates, although you knew they were suspecting something. All the sneaking away while amid a recording session, hanging out in each other’s rooms, how adamant he was to carpool with you every day, even when he didn’t need to go to the studio… It was an easy tell, but it was also your private life.

You told yourself that it was for the best, that you shouldn’t mix work and personal life, especially when your personal life included Calum. He was adamant to keep whatever you had out of the public eye “What we have is good” He said, “Why ruin it with labels?” And you agreed, knowing that making everything official could just mess everything up. Calum was your best friend, after all, you would be damn if you lose him.

And for the second truth:

“I don’t know how to drive”

Just in time, the traffic light turned red. Calum turned to you in disbelief “Bluff” You shook your head, not looking at him just yet “Bluff! That can’t be right! Y/N how old are you?”

You shrugged again “I never needed to! I always enjoyed walking plus,” You said nudging your arm on Calum’s “I have the best driver right here!” You pecked his cheek with a kiss and saw how quickly they blushed, making you celebrate this tiny victory inside your head. You loved making him blush, it gave you some kind of security that he felt the same way.

Calum stared at you for a moment too long, making you self-conscious under his eyes. You could tell the gears were running inside his head “What if I teach you how to drive?”

You chuckled “Now I call your bluff”

“I’m serious!” He said, not taking his eyes from you “We have time before the tour starts, and that way you could drive us somewhere for once! You know? Picking me out and going on a date?”

Your eyes were set on him with an alarming tone, a what now? Was he serious? “You would do that for me?” You asked shyly, not wanting to fall into another of his pranks, but he seemed serious enough.

“Of course!” He said with a chuckle that accentuated all his dimples “Let’s get you your driver’s license, Y/N!”

Calum grabbed your hand and intertwined it with his, shaking it as a victory celebration and then placing a kiss on your knuckles. You laughed and reminded him where you were “Eyes on the road, Hood” even though the light was still red, you would rather him not noticing the red that tinted your cheeks and the loud beating of your heart.

You saw how the sun was starting to illuminate the coast as you drove by. Everything was so quiet this early in the morning and you were thankful, you needed this quiet so you could be alone with your thoughts once again. And, just like every day, that just meant you were thinking of Calum.

Could you blame him? Possibly, your friends said you should. But could you live with yourself knowing that you are holding a grudge towards someone who is probably unaware of it? Not in the slightest.

You were never official, not to the public at least, but in your heart, you knew he was the only one who could make you feel like this. He was the only one capable of making you laugh as hard as you did, cry the way that you did, and enjoy yourself to the fullest. You were your best when you were with him and now… How are you now?

Would he care?

You knew he loved you, he said so himself. The only thing you didn’t know was in what way. Did he love you like a lover? or just like a friend who he’d get to kiss and make love to from time to time?

The lump in your throat became stronger as you remember the last moments you had with him and all the promises he couldn’t keep. You tried to distract yourself, crying behind the wheel could be dangerous and you weren’t going to risk your life for him, not yet at least.

You turned on the radio in hopes that it would call your mind, at this point even the commercials would make you feel better if they made you think about anything but him.

“And now, Laurie. We have the hottest single of the year!” Said the radio host with the most cheerful tone a person could mutter this early “This up-and-coming artist debuted this single almost a month ago and it is still top of the charts in almost 34 countries all over the world!”

Now the lump in your throat came back but this time with a knot on your stomach as well. The first time you heard the song play on the radio you felt excited, after all this is why you came to LA in the first place. Yet the feeling became bittersweet in no time.

“My girls, boys, and non-binary folks; if you are in your car right now get ready to sing this at the top of your lungs with all the feelings you could muster and send a fuck you to your ex. This is ‘Driver’s License’ by Y/N L/N”

“I got my driver’s license last week, just like we always -”

You turned off the music and kept driving in silence.

You knew it was a bad idea to release the song you wrote about him. Maybe it was a petty move on your part, but… didn’t you have the right to be petty this time?

Either way is not like people would realize it was about him. It was your little secret, yours and Calum’s if he ever heard it, although you believe that if he did then he would’ve said something to you by now. Yet his silence was similar to the one in your car; deafening and heartbreaking.

“I don’t know Calum,” You said as you stared at your car parked in front of you “Is it safe to do it here?”

Calum was leaning on top of the hood, rolling his eyes at your indecision “Would you rather do it on the PCA?” You shot your eyes at him with a deathly glare, he just chuckled “I promise is okay, this parking lot is big enough and there are no cars left that you could accidentally hit”

You were both standing in the middle of the studio’s parking lot late at night. Calum insisted that this was the day you learned how to drive, so he spent the night at your place and today he drove you in your car, that way there would be no excuses left for you not to do it.

However, you were still hesitant. This was technically your father’s car, his other baby, and if you ever crash it you wouldn't know what you’ll do. Calum noticed your doubt and took a step closer to you, grabbing your hand in his to give you some sort of encouragement.

“Look, babe. It’s okay if you don’t want to do it. I won’t pressure you” He said softly “I just thought this could be fun for the both of us” He smiled “Fun and educational for that matter. But if you’re not ready then we can go home and-”

“I want to do it, Cal,” You said, “I just- I don’t know where to even begin!”

He chuckled and placed a kiss on your forehead, making all the butterflies in your stomach take flight.

“Tell you what,” Calum said confidently “You get behind the wheel and I’ll put us some inspirational music”

He walked back to the car to connect his phone to the speakers “You better put my song first!” You called after him as you walked towards the driver’s seat.

Calum laughed “God, I should’ve never told you that! Now your ego’s off the damn roof!” Soon enough he sat on the passenger’s seat next to you and buckled up.

“Not my fault that you think of me so often you want to put it into song” You teased, leaning in for a kiss that Calum was happy to oblige.

“Yes,” He said mid-kiss “It is completly your fault” Next thing you know ‘Kill My Time’ was playing on the radio, but Calum was not letting go of you just yet.

You wished this moment last forever, you wished every moment with Calum would last forever, but you both needed to breathe at some point “I wish I could kiss you all day long, I swear I could die on your lips and die happy” You said as you pressed your forehead to his, smiling like a fool in love.

“Soon, love,” Calum said as he crashed his lips against yours “Just wait until tour is over and then we’ll have forever to do just that”

You grinned at his words, a few days ago he promised to make your relationship publicly official once he came back from tour, that way you’ll have more time together as a fairly new couple. If he was willing to take that step, then you were more than ready to follow along. You knew you’d give everything for him if you had to and you still won’t regret it. You love him, and that was enough for you.

“Think I’m ready to start,” You said once you pulled away from him for the last time.

Calum nodded and patted his hand on your thigh “Okay, first you have to turn on the engine. Good, then you check all your mirrors and make sure your gear shift is on position-”

“My what?” You asked.

“Your gear shift, you know? The stick in-”

“Oh, you mean the PRNDL? You said, trying your hardest to stay serious, but failing to do so once you saw Calum’s face.

“You couldn't go one day without your references now, could you?” He said in amusing disbelief that had you both laughing.

The lesson was fairly simple, it just consisted of going forwards and on reverse a few times and practicing some turns in circles around the parking lot, and you were proud to say you were getting the hang of it pretty quickly. Calum turned out to be a great instructor with the patience of a god, he never got mad at you or showed that he was scared - even though it was pretty clear that he was, especially when you turned too far and almost hit a lamp post - and you appreciate him for that.

It was almost 2 AM when you decided to call it quits for the day and start back tomorrow. Calum was now behind the wheel driving you to your house so he could pick up his car and drive home.

“Cal?” You said once he parked in your driveway.

“Yes, love?”

“I’m really happy with you” You shyly admitted.

Calum’s heart beamed with love as he pulled you closer for a goodnight kiss “And I’m really happy with you”

You kissed him one more time before jumping out of the car “See you tomorrow!” He called before you watched him drive away.

The sound of a horn woke you up from your daydream memory. You didn’t know the light had just turned green until the car behind you started pounding their button and cursing at you to move.

You watched the white car from the rearview mirror as you drove away, it looked like his, all the white cars did, but you knew he couldn’t be here just yet, not until the tour was done.

A sinking feeling of hopelessness filled your inner thoughts once again. The promises he made faded like the wind in the summer once he stepped on that plane and decided that you were something he had to leave behind. It would’ve been good to know beforehand, that way you wouldn’t have wasted a year by the phone, hoping it would ring and that he’d be on the other line.

You glanced at the car’s clock one more time, it’s already too late to do anything, you’ve been driving around without a destination for hours when it only felt like minutes. Time is something you learn how to lose when you’re alone, minutes become meaningless once you realize there is no one there to share them with you, but it’s late and it was time to head home. You let out a sigh at the realization that your drive-through therapy didn’t work this time.

Deciding to take the long way home, you started to drive through the lesser-known streets of LA, hoping that you’d get lost somewhere and not knowing if anyone would care.

The dreams of running away came flashing down, more of an idea than an afterthought. Yes, you made it in LA, you have a hit song and your dreams are coming true. Why didn’t that feel like enough?

If you were gone, even just for a little bit, would anybody notice? If you just got up in your car and started driving somewhere unknown until the feeling of loneliness faded away. Could you drive your feelings away? Outrun them somehow?

You knew that if Calum could do it then so could you. It was so easy for him to just leave whatever you had behind, to leave you behind and hope that you were okay somehow. If he thought that you were okay then he maybe didn’t know you at all and you are probably better off without him, just like your friends say all the time.

But were you better off without him?

Tears started piling up in the corner of your eyes once again. No, you were not better off without him even though you want to be. And neither you are better off with him, if he ever came back to you, that is.

You swallowed a sob, trying your hardest not to break down again. It was useless, all the tears and all the songs and all the fuck him an attitude that you could muster… What was it for if not to dwell on your pain even more? You are still hurt and he still did not care.

You took a turn on the left, knowing the way like the back of your hand. You knew this path would lead you home, but you also knew it would lead you to his house as well.

The first time you did this was to practice how to find your way to Calum’s home without getting lost. You knew he wasn’t home and he wouldn’t be for many many months, but you wanted to surprise him once he got there, to pick him up and drive him to that date he promised you once he returned. Now, you avoided that road like a plague unless you had days like this, days in which missing him became everything you did, and now passing through his empty house gave you the reality check you desperately needed: He is gone. It also inspired you to write the song, it was a blessing and a curse.

You turned into the familiar street and looked to your right, you counted the houses passing by one, two, three, four… Until you spotted his old porch. Normally, that’s all you did. You would drive through his street and see the house dark and cold as his owner was out of town. But today there was a white car on his driveway.

Your breath got caught in your throat as you recognized the license plate, immediately stepping on the breaks and making the car stopped abruptly in front of the house.

That is his car… But how? You knew that Calum kept his car in Ashton’s place so they could drive up together to the airport every time they had to leave. What is it doing here? Tour didn’t end until a week from today and-

The sudden movement coming from the house pulled you from every rational thought as the front door opened. You held your breath as the person who stole all your sleepless nights came into view.

He was home.

Calum stepped out of his house with a bright smile on his face. His hair was shorter than the last time you’ve seen it, and he was less tanned, a fact that was easily noticeable thanks to the contrast of his leather jacket on his skin. But his dimples were intact as he smiled at whoever was inside the house.

A small figure came behind him, wrapping her arms around his torso as she was laughing at something he said. Her blond hair was falling down her back so elegantly, and her smile was bright as day as she hugged him, you wouldn’t have noticed that in the photos. She looked happy, but what broke you the most is that he looked happy as well.

He was home, but he was home with her.

You knew something was going on, even if there wasn’t anything official from either of them. You weren’t official, too. But seeing them was all the proof you needed to believe it. Believe that it was actually over and neither of you said goodbye.

You bit the inside of your cheek as silent tears started rolling down your face. You wanted to scream, to cry your hearts out, and let the world fuck itself over and over again. But for the love that you had on yourself, you promised that you wouldn't dignify him by making a scene. He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve to know you cared.

With that in mind, you wiped your tears and floored the gas pedal, driving away from the scene.

“Hey!!!!!”

“Guess what?”

“I PASSED THE TEST!”

“I can legally drive on my own now :D!”

Read 19:05

“Calum?”

“Oh, you must be at the concert now, my bad!”

“Let me know when we can FaceTime again! I can’t wait to tell you how it went! I’m so excited we can finally switch places and let me be the one in charge of the road, lol”

Read 23:54

“Is everything alright, Cal?”

Read 04:32

“I miss you”

Read July 19th 14:49

Last week you sent your last text to him and he still hadn’t responded yet. You tossed all night waiting for at least a smoke signal from him. He was gone for two months now and he never missed one of your calls, it was so unlike him, especially when he promised you to call every day he was on tour.

You tried to distract yourself by doing everything you could think of. You watched videos, listened to music, played candy crush over and over again, and still, there was no answer.

You were starting to give up when a notification from Twitter graced your screen, it read: “Calum Hood, bassist from the band 5 Seconds of Summer, seen cozying up with a mysterious girl in a nightclub two nights ago”

You blinked twice and reread the headline, hoping that your eyes were deceiving you.

“The Australian bassist seemed to be catching up with some friends and letting it all loose at a wild night here in London after their sold-out show in the O2 Arena.

Hood was wearing-”

You skipped all that unnecessary information, scrolling down to the bottom where you knew all media kept the real gossip. A bubble of anxiety started forming inside your throat, as your fingers moved over the screen. The atmosphere became heavy while you could hear your heart thundering inside your chest, every little beat it made was hurting you, almost like it was banging your ribcages begging to be set free.

Time stood still as you looked at the pictures, not wanting to believe your eyes as they analyzed every detail of it.

There he was, hugging a blond woman from behind and resting his face on her shoulders just like he used to do with you. Even from the picture, you could tell she was gorgeous. The next picture showed her wrapping her arms around his neck and smiling at him. He had his hands cupping her cheeks, his face denoted a serious expression, but the look in his eyes was fixed on her.

He kissed her in the third picture, his hands still cupping her cheeks. It seemed like he was smiling through the kiss.

The last picture had them sitting on some kind of leather sofa. She was sitting on his lap and his hands were wandering very close to her butt, holding her close to him.

“The fans of the band wasted no time on identifying the mysterious girl. She seems to be the new tour assistant manager of the boys. Let’s hope that work and pleasure don’t get between this beautiful couple #goals<3”

The stream of tears was never-ending. You couldn’t understand what was going on, why Calum hasn’t said anything to you, why-why did he let it happen? Something was not right, and it wasn’t just your breathing getting heavy inside your lungs or your shaky hands as you typed the next text.

“We need to talk, please call me?”

You got no answers that night as you cried yourself to sleep, realizing that you had no one to comfort you cause nobody knew that you two were even together. You were utterly alone.

The next morning you woke up to no text from him, not even a call or a voicemail.

Read 08:45

You forced yourself to finish your nighttime routine. Ever since you came back home you did nothing but cry, but not of sadness, you were crying of anger.

With him being far away it almost didn’t seem real. You allowed yourself to create some sort of fantasy where he would come back to you, to start over where you left off and be together for everyone to see. How foolish.

You thought that he’ll hear your song and he’ll be running back to you to apologize, to ask if you still love him like before. But he won’t, because he is happy without you while you rot in your own pity party.

You grabbed hold onto the counter, trying to hold the tears as everything suddenly became clear as day. All the red flags you ignored were now shining as candy apples. He made a fool of you and didn’t even dignify you with at least some kind of warning or apology. He brought you down and now it was up to you to climb back up and even higher than before.

How could he?

All the memories you held close to your heart were burning in the pyre of your soul. You loved him, you knew you did. But all you meant for him was just a summer fling, something to waste time on before the real thing came along.

But he loved you…

Did he?

He spent entire days and nights next to you. He told you stories no one’s ever heard of. He sang to you to sleep and wrote you the most beautiful poems you’ve ever read. He picked you up every day and stayed with you until it was your time to leave. He made you feel welcome and there was not a day where you didn’t feel safe around his arms. He was your best friend. He taught you how to drive and what it meant to feel something real, something as important as the love you could have for someone. He loved you, he said he did, he promised he did.

Maybe love was not enough for him.

Your mind was divided, fighting over and over and over again about the same thing. Part of you cursed his name while the other part just wanted to be held by him, telling you that it will all be okay. But you couldn't even trust yourself on this one.

The doorbell rang, one, two, three times.

You were not going to answer it. One look in the mirror and you knew you couldn't answer anyone in this state. Your eyes were puffy and red, your cheeks were hollowed from not eating all day. There was nothing you could do to make you look or feel better, so whoever was behind the door will have to find another way to disturb the chaos in your mind.

However, they were persistent. With the ring of the doorbell came a few bangs. It seemed urgent.

You took one last look at yourself before deciding with a sigh to go and open the door. Whoever it was must have a good reason to come banging at your door a little past midnight.

“I’m coming!” You called, voice coming out a little hoarse from crying all night.

A shiver ran down your back and you felt like you were here before, in this exact moment where all your instincts told you to walk away. You decided to ignore them as you gently turned the doorknob and opened the door. Immediately wishing you didn’t.

“Calum?”

He stood in front of you, soaked from head to toe. Hands in the pockets of his jacket, not the leather one, but one more cozy. He was also wearing a pair of sweatpants and part of his hair was stuck on his forehead. You didn’t realize it was raining.

“Can I come in?” He asked, not even a hello.

You debated on whether or not to let him in. Part of you wanted to throw him back into the streets, but a storm was coming - much in the literal and subliminal way, and you didn’t want him to drive in this weather, you still care for him even though you shouldn’t.

With a simple nod, you opened the door wide enough so he could enter the house, a little “thank you” came out of his mouth as he stepped inside for the first time in over a year.

You closed the door and started walking into the kitchen with Calum following you like a stray dog. Your hands were shaking so you hid them behind your back as you slowly wrapped your arms around you in an attempt to comfort you throughout this whole ordeal.

Calum is standing in front of you on the other side of the island. He is not looking at you, but rather he is looking at his feet. You figured he was too scared to be the first one to talk and it broke your heart that he has suddenly become shy around you when you used to tell each other everything. ‘But whose fault is that?’ You thought.

Now you were just two strangers in a room.

“I thought you’d still be on tour,” You said, breaking the silence that has fallen upon you.

Calum looked up and he almost looked thankful that you spoke first “The last two venues canceled at the last minute due to weather conditions,” He said “So we came back earlier than expected”

You nodded and faced the other way. The fact that he was here in your home made your stomach turn and not in a good way. You always thought him coming back was going to be something joyful, but it became more painful as time went by.

“They closed café Mariannete while I was gone” He said, was he really going to talk about that right now? Did he came over here to reminisce about the café you used to have breakfast in?

“I didn’t know. I don’t go there anymore”

More awkward silence came upon you. You both knew he was bullshiting his way into the real conversation he was avoiding to have. He always used to do that and you have forgotten how much you hated it.

“Were you driving by my house today?” He asked and you froze on the spot. You didn’t think that he saw you.

“I was,” You cleared your throat “I was coming back home”

“And you didn’t say hello” It was more a statement than a question.

A sour taste filled your mouth. How dare he? “You were busy enough” You knew it was a petty answer, but what did he expect?

A flash of hurt came through Calum’s eyes as he said nothing in return. He knew you saw him with her, so he had no excuse to push the topic back to you.

The atmosphere was tense as the only thing you could hear was the ticking of the clock and the raindrops falling through your window. There was so much to say and yet none of you were brave enough to muster them.

You had every right to be mad and he had a right to explain himself, but you were not going to be the first one to cave in. Not without hearing from him first.

Eventually, Calum got restless of the silence.

“Your song is amazing,” He said, pleading for an answer that didn’t contain poison in your words “Ashton showed it to us the day it came out”

So he has heard it, you didn’t know if you should be proud or ashamed “Thanks”

“I forgot to congratulate you on your number one”

“You forgot to do a lot of things”

If there was ever a moment where you could give him the chance to redeem himself, this was it.

You saw how Calum shifted his weight from foot to foot, he had his lips pressed in a thin line and you could see how his eyes changed and fell into a deep pit of regret as tears were forming in the corner of his eye.

“I know the song’s about me-” He said.

“How did you figure that out?” You said sarcastically.

“Y/N…” He pleaded, running a hand through his face, but you were having none of that.

“Why did you do it, Calum?”

You needed an answer, something you could hold onto to eventually let go. Calum, however, was almost speechless.

The ticking of the clock became even louder as you counted the seconds until he spoke again. One, two, three…

Ten “I don’t know”

The answer cut right through you as you let a stream of tears roll down your cheek, not lifting your head to look at him in the eyes. It wasn’t what you expected, it was way worse.

Calum noticed your crying and started panicking, spilling every thought he had through his mouth “I-I don’t- I was drunk and she was there with our groups of friends and we were too drunk to even take notice of what was happening and we just kissed and- Y/N, I’m not perfect. We weren’t perfect, we weren’t even official and it was only a kiss and I thought it would be okay but then the tabloids and your message and I just- And she’s a great friend, she didn’t mean any harm but things happened and-” He stammered, unable to connect his thoughts as he desperately tried to fix something so you would stop crying.

“For me it was perfect” You cried “We were perfect in my mind, you made it perfect. God, Calum. Why didn’t you tell me? I spent months in agony trying to figure it out, to make it make sense! I beat myself up over and over again and there you were having the time of your life with a stranger!” Your voice was loud, not enough to yell, but enough to make it clear that you were fuming.

“What are you talking about?!” Calum said matching the tone of your voice “I missed you every fucking day but there was nothing I could do about it! You don’t know shit of what you’re talking about!”

You scoffed “Oh yeah! It surely seemed like you missed me! You never called me once, Calum. Not even to apologize and try to make it better”

“I didn’t know how!” He said, “I was scared that-”

“That I’d hate you?”

“That you’d forgive me,” Calum said in one breath, making you stare in shock “I-I didn’t want you to forgive me, Y/N, cause you deserve so much better. On tour I realized that I wasn’t ready for a relationship, no matter how much you mean to me and I didn’t know how to tell you that so-”

“And are you ready now? That’s why you are with her?” You interrupted, head filled with anger to even think straight.

“I’m not ready to be with either of you!”

The room felt silent once again.

You had no answer to that and you weren’t sure you wanted to hear more from him.

The rain outside your window started to calm down, only droplets of water were left as the memory of the storm that almost was.

Your legs gave out a minute later, sliding you down slowly onto the floor. Calum walked up to you and sat next to you, neither of you saying anything for what it seemed like hours.

“You said you loved me…” You said with a faint voice.

Calum sighed “I did. I do”

“And you love her too?”

He thought about it “I don’t know. I might” You closed your eyes as a tear fell down your cheek “She’s good to me, Y/N. And we really got close but-”

“I know,” You said with a soft sniffle “We weren’t perfect either”

“You do know I love you, right?” He said softly, turning his face towards you “And that everything we had was real. Every minute of it, every word in every song was true and it still is. All was real and it’s still there somewhere. I still want you in my life, Y/N, cause you make it better. I just,” He sighed “I need to figure my shit out”

“Yeah, you do” You said, making him chuckle darkly “But I can’t promise I’ll be here”

“I wouldn’t ask you to”

You sat there in silence for a few more moments, just enjoying each other's company before everything fades away.

“I love you, too” You said in a whisper, hoping that he won’t hear “I still fucking love you”

Calum sighed “I know”

“Guess that you didn’t mean what you wrote on that song about me

‘Cause you said forever now I drive alone past your street”

Tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @mystic-232 @talksoprettyjjx @theshyspy @sarcasticallywitty15 @hoodhoran @flaneurcth h @notinthesameguey @myloverboyash @yeah-and69 @fckingpernico

* if your url is crossed please reach out to me so we can fix it

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favefandomimagines · 4 years

Text

Soul Surfer (j.m.)

Summary: JJ’s surfing idol moves to town and that happens to include his daughter.

AN: here it is!!!! i’m posting it early in celebration of hitting 900 followers! there are 900+ of you who are reading my stuff like that’s insane to me!!

Part 2 of soul surfer will be up hopefully by Tuesday! Wednesday at the latest!

Tag list: @outerbxmalia @hockeyschmockey @allie-mcginn @prejudic3 @sexualparkour @k-k0129 @iamaunicorn4704 @milamaybank @jj-maybabe @divcrdown @sweetwatermelonsugar @alexa-playafricabytoto @aaleksmorozova @fandom-phaser @lulbabes @princessmugglecup @infinityspacesuniverse @teamnick @frankiebcanon @srirachabi @starxdame @holadrxrry @drizzlethatfalls

JJ, Pope and John B were on their way to The Wreck to annoy Kie at work. It was customary, almost traditional, to stop by the restaurant to bother their friend while she was working.

When John B parked in front, they noticed a similar van next to theirs with Hawaii license plates, that read ‘HANG LOOSE.’ JJ also couldn’t help but admire the two surfboards strapped to the roof.

“Who in their right mind would want to leave Hawaii for the Outer Banks?” Pope asked. “I don’t know but whoever it is must be a killer surfer. Look at these boards, they’re the best money can get right now.” JJ added.

“Don’t get any ideas, J.” John B said, pulling his friend along. “What? I wasn’t going to steal them.” JJ rebutted.

The three teenage boys walked into the building and looked around for Kie. “Guys!” Kie practically yelled, appearing behind them. “You will never believe who’s here right now.” She added.

“Who?” John B asked. But before Kie could answer his question, JJ grabbed ahold of him. “Holy shit. That’s Rob Elliot. He’s a surf legend. I’ve been watching him since I was 10.” He exclaimed, eyes practically bulging out of his head. “No way. What is he doing here?” Pope asked. “That must be who’s van we saw outside.” John B said.

The four friends watched the famous surfer when JJ saw the girl sitting next to the man. The brunette girl, with blue eyes who radiated everything he found perfect. He was probably being creepy but he couldn’t find himself being able to look away from her. Especially when her father said something to make her laugh. Seeing her smile did something to JJ he couldn’t really explain.

And he didn’t go unnoticed by her. Her eyes went to him the second he stepped through the door. Though she was more subtle about her ‘observing’ than he was. She wanted to know who he was. It was like a weird pull that told her ‘this is a boy you need to know.’ It was strange to say the least. She had just moved here and already she was forming a crush on someone she hasn’t said a word to.

Violet wasn't so keen on moving from Hawaii, her safe place, to an island town in North Carolina. But her father wanted a change of venue now that he was retired from surfing. The town of Outer Banks lives off of tourism and he figured he could start a pretty successful surfboard business that would bring in plenty enough money to pay the bills.

Though JJ was following John B and Pope towards a table, his eyes remained fixated on the brunette. “If you stare long enough she’s going to have to get a restraining order.” Pope commented. The blonde rolled his eyes before he looked back at Violet, when he noticed she was already staring in his direction.

He immediately tried to act normal as he searched the menu and just tried to save himself from embarrassment.

“Go talk to them. You need to start making friends.” Rob said, motioning towards the three boys. “Dad, we literally just got here. And I can’t just go up and talk to them, they’ll think I’m weird.” Violet said.

“Hi, welcome to The Wreck! I’m Kiara and I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but those three imbeciles are my friends. If you want I could introduce you! I know it can be hard to make friends sometimes.” Kiara offered.

Rob nudged his daughter’s arm, telling her to take the girl up on her offer. “Hi, I'm Violet and yeah! That would be great, thank you so much!” Violet replied. “Go. I’ll see you back at the house.” Rob said.

Violet smiled at him before standing up from the table and following Kiara to her friends.

“Oh my god, she’s coming over here. Wh-What do I do? What do I say?” JJ asked, panic setting in. “Dude, just be yourself. Since when have you had trouble talking to girls?” Pope said. “Hey guys this is Violet.” Kiara said.

Violet smiled sweetly at them as JJ tried to avoid her gaze. Not because he wasn’t being friendly but because he knew that if he looked at her, she’d see the redness in his cheeks.

“Hey, Violet. I’m John B. This is Pope and the weirdo right there is JJ.” John B said. “It’s nice to meet you guys.” She replied. “Here, sit down.” Pope offered. Violet sat down in the chair in between John B and JJ, Kiara taking the one across from her.

The five teens fell into a natural conversation, them asking why Violet moved here and her asking what living there was like. She soon learned about the different sides of the island, The Cut and Figure 8. Violet was advised to stay away from that side of the island because the Kooks weren’t so friendly to those who hung around with Pogues.

Violet was beginning to feel at home with the Pogues, causing her confidence to grow and her shyness to disappear.

“Do you guys wanna go surf? I heard that the waves were pretty good around this time of day.” Violet suggested. JJ swore he could feel his heart start speeding up immensely. “I wish but I have to get to work.” Pope said. “And I still have my shift here. But give me your number and we can hang out tomorrow!” Kiara added. “I know JJ is free.” John B spoke up.

JJ kicked his friend from under the table, something that didn’t go unnoticed by the others.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I could surf.” He stammered. “Great! I’m sure I can talk my dad into letting us borrow a couple boards if you don’t mind.” Violet said. “I would never mind using a board like that.” JJ replied with a small laugh. “Awesome! You can show me the best spots.” Violet told him.

Pope and Kiara retreated to work while John B left Violet and JJ alone. “My house isn’t far from here, we can walk there, get the boards and head to the beach.” She told him.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t believe I’m talking to you right now. Your dad is my hero.” JJ said, not being able to keep his thoughts to himself. “Really? You must be pretty good then.” Violet replied, her arm brushing against his. “Well, I don’t wanna brag, but John B and I are the best surfers on the island.” He told her.

The brunette gave him a smirk as they both walked up the porch of her house. “For now. Until I get there out there.” She said.

JJ felt like he was in a cartoon where Buggs Bunny’s heart burst out of his chest and his eyes were bulging out of his head.

“Dad! Can I borrow a couple boards?” Violet called, entering the house. “Take the ones on the van!” Rob called back, meeting his daughter in the entryway. “Who’s this?” He asked. “Oh, dad, this is JJ. I met him this morning at The Wreck.” Violet explained.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve been watching you compete since I was a kid.” JJ said. “Well thank you, JJ. I take it you surf as well.” Rob said with a smile on his face. “Yeah, yeah, I do.” JJ answered. “We’re gonna go surf for a bit.” Violet added. “You’ll have to tell me how good the waves are when you get back.” Rob said. “Take the van too. I’m doing some work around the house, I won’t need it.” He added.

Violet smiled sweetly up at her dad as she grabbed the keys off the table near the door. “Thanks, dad.” She said, grabbing JJ’s wrist and pulling back out the door. “See you later!” She called.

JJ felt as if his wrist was burning at the feeling of Violet touching him. Not in a bad way but just at the sheer action of her hand on his wrist.

He was knocked out of his daze by seeing keys flying in his direction. “You’re driving.” Violet told him. “Wait, you want me to drive?” He asked. “You know this island better than I do. Who better to give me the full tour?” She replied.

JJ smirked back at her before getting in the driverseat and her getting in the passenger seat.

After the two had been driving for a couple of minutes, Violet spoke up. “So, tell me about these so-called Kooks.” She started. Violet could see the look of distaste that JJ made as soon as she mentioned the words ‘Kooks.’

“They’re the rich kids on Figure 8. They hate us Pogues because we actually have to work to make a living. They’d like you though. You’re well off, your dad is a professional athlete, you’re really hot,” JJ started. Violet felt her face heat up when she heard JJ call her hot.

“But stay away from Rafe Cameron and Topper. They’re the worst of the worst.” He finished. “You think I’m hot?” Violet teased. “What? I-I, uh, did I say that outloud?” JJ questioned, looking over at her seeing the smile that graced her face. “Yeah, yeah you did.” She answered. “Well, this just got incredibly awkward.” JJ muttered. “It’s only awkward if you make it awkward.” Violet laughed.

JJ scoffed with a smile before returning his gaze back to the road. Both JJ and Violet couldn’t avoid the feeling of just how natural their conversation was. It was like they’ve known each other for years. She didn’t take his sarcastic remarks to heart and she dished them right back. He thought she was funny and Violet thought JJ was a breath of fresh air.

He wasn’t like the boys she’d known back home and for that she was grateful.

They pulled up to the beach and JJ could see the excitement radiating off of Violet as she hopped out of the vehicle.

He thought he should help the girl get the two surfboards off the top of the van but by the time he got out of the car, Violet had already gotten one down. “Damn, you’re full of surprises aren’t you?” He commented. “Oh you have no idea.” Violet said, sending him a wink.

JJ swallowed the lump in his throat, all of his confidence going totally out the window. Violet grabbed her board and took off the clothes that were over her swimsuit and started walking towards the beach. JJ on the other hand was stuck in his daydream.

“Are you coming?” Violet asked him. JJ cleared his throat before taking his shirt off and grabbing the extra board.

They both go into the water and paddled out to get the good waves, sitting on their boards waiting for a good swell to come.

The blonde looked over at the brunette girl, the water making her skin glisten under the sun and how the sun made her blue eyes stand out against her tan skin. He kept checking her out when he noticed a scar on her right thigh.

“Where’d you get that?” He asked her. Violet looked from him down to the scar he was gesturing to. “Oh, I got stung by a jellyfish when I was 12. Nothing too exciting.” Violet answered. “Getting stung by a jellyfish isn’t exciting?” JJ asked with a small laugh. “Not when you live in Hawaii.” The girl replied.

Violet broke the long session of eye contact when she felt like a good wave was coming. The two made a mental competition to see who could catch the wave first.

JJ thought he had it in the bag, he was used to the waves on the island but he was pleasantly surprised when Violet stood up on her board and flawlessly caught the wave.

The blonde watched in awe at how easily and smoothly Violet surfed the wave and he then felt something towards her that scared him. He was starting to like a girl he had just met hours before.

When Violet paddled back out to him, she noticed how his jaw was practically touching the board when he looked at her. “What?” Violet questioned. “That was amazing.” He said. “Thanks.” Violet replied, running a hand through her wet hair.

“You weren’t kidding when you said you’d replace me as the best surfer here.” JJ commented. “Maybe we can share the title.” Violet smiled at him.

JJ nodded his head, his smile matching hers. He quickly noticed that he’s been doing that a lot since getting to know Violet.

—

Violet and JJ had spent the entire day in the water, surfing, talking and just enjoying each other’s company.

“Hey, do you wanna come to a party at the Boneyard tonight? If you’re gonna be a Pogue this is your initiation.” JJ asked, as he helped her put the boards back on the van.

“If I go, will I officially be a Pogue?” Violet asked. “I’ve known you a total of 8 hours and I can already tell you’re Pogue material.” JJ answered.

Violet leaned against the car and looked up at him. “Then count me in.” She said.

“Really? Then I’ll pick you up at 8.” JJ replied.

“It’s a date.” Violet said casually as John B pulled up. “JJ! We gotta go get the keg!” He called out the window.

JJ was internally cursing out John B while Violet stifled a laugh. “I’ll see you tonight, Violet.” He told you. “I’m looking forwad to it.” She said.

Violet watched JJ for a moment as he was walking to John B’s car before getting in her own.

“How’d it go?” John B asked the blonde when he got in the car. “Dude, she’s amazing. Like, she’s funny, smart, she can surf like I’ve never seen and she’s hot as hell!” JJ replied.

“Well, Kie already likes her. Apparently they’ve been texting every time you two weren’t in the water.” John B. “God, JB, she’s perfect. I can’t mess this up.” JJ said. “Then Sarah and I will keep the tourons away from you all night so you won’t mess it up.” John J told his friend.

Violet arrived back at her house, a goofy smile attached to her face.

“How were the waves?” Rob asked his daughter. “Not as good as North Shore but they’ll do.” Violet answered. “Looks like the waves weren’t the only thing that made you happy.” Her dad commented.

Violet tucked her hair behind her ear as she put the surfboards away.

“Do you like JJ?” Rob asked. “Dad, I just met him. It’s too soon to say.” Violet told him. “Well, he seems like a good kid.” He said before walking back inside.

Violet was then alone with her thoughts until her phone dinged.

Maybe: JJ: hey, it’s JJ. Kie gave me your number, if that’s okay. anyways, i had fun today. i’ll see you tonight (:

Violet smiled at her phone screen before retreating inside.

#imagine #imagines #outer banks imagine #outer banks #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #john b routledge #sarah cameron #kiara carrera #pope heyward #rafe cameron #rudy pankow imagine #rudy pankow #drew starkey

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wonderlustlucas · 4 years

Text

four - hwang hyunjin

⇢ prompt They say good things come in fours. Who? Couldn’t tell you, but they especially do during Christmas. Maybe that’s just Saint Nick. ⇢ pairing hyunjin x female reader ⇢ word count 11.7k ⇢ genre fluff ⇢ warnings swearing. mentions of alcohol & s e x. teenagerz being teenagerz. insane amount of fluff & stupidity. kind of ends w a smutty cliffhanger. ⇢ summary After suppressing how you felt about Hyunjin back in high school, you thought you were done going back on your feelings. Turns out, a little time apart, the spirit of Christmas, and an accidental nap is the perfect cocktail for falling in love with your best friend.—friends to lovers!au ⇢ a/n hello & merry christmas! here is a gift for you all on this very merry day. also, thank you for 1,000 followers! that in itself is one of the best presents i could ask for. thank you for all your kindness & support on my blog & for following me in the first place! it truly means so much to me. i hope you enjoy reading! ♥︎

big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇[now] Sorry! I just woke up

big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇[now] Whats wrong fool

big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇[now] Did u rlly think 12 texts were gonna wake me up?🤦🏻‍♂️ godt damn u on some WACK shit

You roll your eyes in time with each consecutive text that Hyunjin sends, waiting for the lock screen of your phone to blacken after reading them. He’s about as useless as pedals on a wheelchair, you think, ignoring the texts and forcing the device into the snug back pocket of your jeans before transferring the last two excessively packed grocery bags into the trunk of your car with an exhausted huff. Christ, if the bagging lady put one more item in those bags, she would be the one to blame for six cans of soup rolling about the parking lot.

The license plate rattles when you slam the trunk lid closed before hurrying around to the driver’s side and anxiously hopping inside to start blasting the heat. It is obnoxiously chilly for the first of September. Well, not really. Your body is just beginning to get used to the ungodly wrath of summer’s sweltering heat leaving you in a constant state of sweat and nausea for the past three months. Not that you’re complaining, of course. You nearly did somersaults of joy when the morning news reported a temperature of sixty-one degrees with some wind gusts and welcomed the beginning signs of autumn with open arms.

You would never admit to Mom who told yo uon the way out to change out of a tank top or at least wear a jacket, but yes— you are, in fact, cold. But now you have godsent warmth blowing from the vents and the seat warmer on its highest setting beginning to thaw away the goosebumps painted on your skin. Giving your arms one last rub, you lean up enough to retrieve your phone and open the conversation with Hyunjin.

[2:37 PM] YN: please. smell my balls

[2:37 PM] YN: nothings wrong btw. i was GOING to ask if u wanted any specific snacks for tn buttttt someone didn’t answer

[2:37 PM] YN: and excuse u i called too. i may be an idiot but im not stupid

[2:38 PM] YN: ik u would never hear a text when ur having wet dreams of yeji

You stop there with a smug smirk when the three dots on his side appear, knowing you’ve hit his funny bone with this one.

[2:38 PM] big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇: Bruh

[2:38 PM] big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇 :I’ve literally never have had a wet dream ab Yeji pls stop

You cannot fight your shit-eating grin, thumbs circling over the keyboard in thought as he apparently deletes whatever other text he was going to send when the three dots disappear.

[2:38 PM] YN: mmhmmmm

[2:38 PM] YN: because last time you slept over you weren’t whimpering her name in ur sleep

[2:38 PM] YN: sureeeee

You decide to end your teasing there and continue once you’re home. It is starting to get late, after all, and Mom will begin to worry that the creepy employee always in aisle sixteen has abducted you. Plus, you’re cruel and like to watch Hyunjin suffer. Switching the ringer off, you throw your phone into the cupholder and drastically lower the heat and turn off the seat warmer. It’s starting to feel like a sauna in here, and not in a fun way. Can’t understand how anyone enjoys hanging out in a sauna to begin with anyway, but to each their own, you guess.

In the five-minute drive it takes until you are pulling into the driveway, Hyunjin calls three times. He is incredibly peeved at your lack of a response to his distressed texts and still wound up from your text about Yeji. As if! You’re already a clown not realizing his ever-growing affections for you, but to think he had a crush on Yeji? You’re the whole damn circus!

By the time he calls a fifth time, now sat up on his elbow in bed and strumming an annoyed beat of his fingers at his thigh because he really just wants to yell at you for being the most annoying person alive (and maybe to hear your voice, too), you have brought in the last of the bags and look to Mom who has started to put the groceries away and expects you to half-heartedly do the same.

“It’s Hyunjin. He’s having an existential crisis because I haven’t answered his texts,” you explain to her, unenthusiastically holding your phone as it vibrates against your palm. Half of you wants her to ask to finish putting everything away first just so you can torture him even longer. Alas, such extravagant wishes are denied, because when it comes to Hyunjin, your parents would undoubtedly throw you under the bus just to keep that boy happy. And so, just like any other time, Mom’s undying love for Hyunjin has her dismissing you from the kitchen with a hearty laugh.

“Jesus Christ! What?” You hiss, halfway up the stairs when you tap to answer his call on the last ring.

“Wow! Look who finally decided to answer!” Hyunjin shouts back, the swoosh of his sheets once he finally falls back against his pillow again rustling all too loudly through the phone. “I was driving,” you spit, marching into your bedroom and collapsing against your bed, the same rustle of your blankets sounding loudly into his ear. “There’s a thing called the speaker, ___. Ever heard of it?” He retorts, evidently shutting you up and he knows he won this round if your silence is anything to go by.

“Whatever,” you groan, using all your toe strength to kick the sneakers off your feet by their soles, “what was so important that you couldn’t wait and had to call me five billion times?”

“I had a question. And you hurt my feelings.” Well, shit. You can practically hear and see his pout through the phone and your heart positively swells in your chest at how undeniably, unjustifiably cute he is. You sigh.

“I’m sorry for making fun of you about Yeji. I’m going to do it again but next time I promise I won’t pull the wet dream card,” you apologize frankly; because, in all honesty, it would be worse to say you are not going to do it again when you most certainly will. Bullying Hyunjin is fun, what can you say?

Hyunjin heaves an exasperated breath from his lungs because he knows there is no point in arguing with quite possibly the most sarcastic human he knows and that’s the best form of an apology he’s going to get. Whatever. He’ll make sure to wipe his morning snot and droll on your shirt in the morning. “Anyway,” he grumbles, in the background you hear Kkami bark from a few rooms over, “I was going to ask if you wanted to come over my place instead? I know your parents probably want to see me and stuff but mine are out of town for the night so we can sleep in my bed until like three without Mom waking us up to force feed breakfast.” You roll your eyes. Of course your parents want to see him.

“Plus, Mom just put that grey comforter I know you really like on my bed so we can cuddle all night and watch stuff on YouTube,” he quickly adds as a convincing afterthought. He’s really got his sales pitch going on this one. Truth is, you have only slept in his bed with that stupidly soft blanket twice last winter break, but it’s still sweet that he remembers how much you loved it (aka how quickly you fell asleep and how grumpy you were being woken up because it’s just that darn cozy). Either way, you would never pass up an opportunity to snuggle up with Hyunjin in the comfort of his own bed with his citrusy, floral scent on the pillows luring you to sleep.

“My Mom is going to be heartbroken, Hyunjin,” you tease, “but who cares. You had me sold at sleeping until three. Do you still want me to bring the snacks I got?”

“Oh, thank God. I love your Mom’s cooking but I haven’t left bed all day and I really want to keep it that way. And yes, please. I’ve been eating dry cereal for the past two hours.”

“Hyunjin, have you brushed your teeth yet?”

“No. Didn’t you just hear me? I said I’ve been in bed all day. Eating cereal. When would I have brushed my teeth?”

“You’ve officially taken breakfast in bed to a whole new level, Jin. I’ll see you in a few hours. Oh, and please, you have no concept of personal space so make sure you brush your teeth before I come over.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Love ya, bye,” Hyunjin promptly hangs up, probably eager to get back to binging whatever drama he’s watching before you lecture him about his hygiene again. Not that it matters, anyway; chances are, it went in one ear and right out the other and you’re going to drag him out of bed later to brush his teeth.

Damn. You didn’t even get the chance to say love you back. Not that it matters.

It doesn’t, you quickly shut down the pesky thought that keeps you up at night and force it back into the storage part of your brain labeled ‘Deal with Later,’ because, really, you’ll have to think about that later. It’s not that you don’t want to think about it yet… you just don’t have the time to stop and really figure out what your feelings toward Hyunjin actually are. Yeah. That’s it.

And now isn’t the time, you tell yourself, scooting up the mattress in order to bury your face in the pillows to suffocate the pounding throb in your head. Hyunjin is nothing special.

Well, no. That’s a lie. Everything about Hyunjin is special. Anyone with eyes, ears, even a nose can sense that. You had quickly found out just how wonderful he is when you met him freshman year of high school. At the time, he was everyone’s sweetheart by the first day, but it just so happened his eyes were all on you.

He was obviously adorable, and every class you had together he always made a point to talk to you and returned your sarcasm with an impressive level of expertise. So, when it came to him asking you to the first homecoming, the answer was yes without a second thought. But during the last slow dance of the night, with his hands gently holding your waist, he at last listened to his conscience and revealed that as much as he liked you, he truly did not want to date in high school. Or right then, at least. And honestly, you were glad; Hyunjin was quite possibly your favorite person you had met thus far, and you would have rather kept him as a friend than commit to a relationship the second month of school and risk losing him later down the road.

And boy, keep him as a friend you did. As it turned out, Hyunjin grew to be your truest, best friend in high school. Sure, you each had your own friend groups, but the two of you were the iconic pair everybody knew. But strictly platonic, despite the rumors and wishes that went around for the next four years. You like to think that neither of you ever developed feelings past what everyone feels toward their best friend— an innocent, wholesome sort of love.

But when had things changed? Hormones, as always, were definitely a big part of it. Hyunjin was always a cutie, but it wasn’t until he grew into his own skin and developed a newfound confidence did you start to see him differently. Until everyone saw him differently. Neither of you missed the way people stared him down, pupils dilating every time he ran his fingers through the black tufts of his hair, hearts aching for some sort of interaction. Or when you started attending parties, groups of girls would fling themselves at him in a blundering disarray, most of which he would turn down with a gentle dismissal that flew over their heads, too drunk to actually care.

But then there were times his dick made the decision for him, desperation and deprivation weighing in on him and you’d watch with a tight jaw as he’d leave the room with the pretty girl of the night skipping after him. You never realized it was only on those nights did you wind up in the back seat of Han Jisung’s car.

But even after the physical attraction sizzled out over time, things were not the same. Hyunjin wasn’t your hidden little treasure anymore. All eyes were set on him and it took more than a glass of water to swallow your jealousy. But why? Why were you so resentful all of a sudden?

It’s hard to share Hwang Hyunjin, you decided. Once established that you were his main hoe and he was yours, it became a significant burden watching others try and get in between. Not that they did it with a malicious attempt to separate you, but it still hurt. You’re selfish, and you admit it— Hyunjin, quite frankly, is the love of your life. Romantic or not, nothing could change your feelings toward him. It goes beyond his unfathomable beauty and spunky personality. Everything about him from his nose to his hands, to his distaste for onions and the way his face scrunches up when he lets out that giggle of his and even to the way he prefers to sleep against the wall but will force you to when you’re over so he can “protect you in case there’s a monster” all mount into this big, giant section of your heart set aside for Hyunjin.

So despite your efforts to ignore the pang of jealousy each time he would find a potential someone or the joy whenever he’d find his way back because “they kept wanting to hang out in the morning even though I said I don’t wake up before noon,” this Hyunjin-shaped hole in your heart seems to only grow the longer you ignore it. Kind of like every medical condition out there: the longer you ignore it, the worse it gets. So, basically Hyunjin is your heart disease.

Yikes. Sounds a lot worse when you try putting it into words.

Well, he won’t be your heart defect for long if he keeps ruining those pearly whites of his by only brushing once just before bed, you chuckle to yourself, rolling to your side at the sudden lack of oxygen between your face and the pillow. There’s a fleeting moment without thought when you unconsciously reach for your phone to check for any notifications before the fattest revelation of them all falls from the ceiling and smacks you right upside the face.

Shit. Looks like you’ve gone right ahead and totally dissected each and every fiber of your feelings for Hyunjin.

Blinking up at the ceiling, the weight of your emotions isn’t as heavy as you expected them to be. Instead, it’s more of a breath of fresh air, as if you have finally accepted the way things fell instead of ignoring them. Your feelings for Hyunjin have always been there. It just took a little effort to get them out.

Nevertheless, it is going to be difficult hanging out with him in a few hours with your exposed emotions still needing to be processed. Especially when he will pull you to his side and keep you nestled there the entire night. Rubbing your temples, you realize it will take some serious self-control to put everything on the back burner and just enjoy the time spent with Hyunjin.

Sighing, you check the time on your phone again. 3:21 and a text from Hyunjin asking if you could bring green tea.

“Mom!” You yell, defeated. “You were right!”

You used to think Hyunjin lived far away. Truthfully, he’s only fifteen minutes away if you go ten over the speed limit. But the only way to get to his house entails driving through the chaos of the mall and town center, which adds an extra ten minutes sitting through traffic no matter the time of day.

Now, Hyunjin’s college campus is two hours away. Well, technically five from you, since you’re almost three hours away in the opposite direction. So you’re lucky if you get to see him once a month with how hectic school becomes and how difficult it is trying to plan to come home the same weekend. Fortunately, it has worked out this semester. And while you should spend this time with your families, they know how much you crave one another’s company as the weeks drag on. The twenty-two minutes it takes getting to each other’s homes is totally worth it.

You expect Hyunjin to tell you to use the key hidden underneath the resin meditating frog statue in the front garden to unlock the front door when you text him you have arrived, but to your utmost surprise, he’s there, awake, to open the door for you.

“Stinky!” You yell, dropping your things on the floor to burry yourself in his embrace, standing on your tippy toes to wrap your arms around his neck in order to really get the full experience of hugging your favorite giant. “Poopy!” He shouts in return, long arms winding tightly around your waist and even going so far as to lift you up a few inches. God. Hate when he does that.

“Why are you up? I thought I’d have to let myself in with you sleeping all your problems away,” you ask, smiling gratefully when he bends down to pick up your bag. “I realized Kkami hadn’t been out all day, so I came down to let him out and find actual food,” Hyunjin explains as he makes way into the kitchen, opening the back door to let said dog back inside. “Aw, poor thing,” you pout, squatting to scratch at Kkami’s neck when he zooms faster than the speed of light to you, “does that mean you brushed your teeth?”

“I did, actually,” Hyunjin snorts right back, scrunching his nose at you before turning away to open the fridge. Sitting on the floor with Kkami in your lap, you take the opportunity to finally get a good look at Hyunjin now that he’s distracted. And of course, he looks good. Really good. Last time you saw him he still was a brunette, a look he rocked during the spring and summer months. This is the first time you’ve seen the freshly dyed black hair in person. Even though he always looks handsome, something about Hyunjin with black hair completely changes his aura. Brings back memories of how badly you wanted him in high school. You shiver at the thought.

And, to top it all off, how he manages to stay in such disgustingly good shape despite his atrocious eating habits never ceases to amaze you. Like, come on. The boy eats worse than a raccoon seven days out of the week, lives off boba, works out maybe five times a month, dances in his free time and still keeps his body in tiptop shape. God, you hate him. His pediatrician probably hates him, too. You even go as far as to sniff the fries in your dining hall and you gain five pounds.

Even now, he looks unnecessarily regal in the baggy material of his sweatpants and flannel. And the warmth of his kitchen’s ambient lighting does nothing to suppress the heavy thumping of your heart. So casual is his dress, yet how immaculate he looks rummaging the cabinets for a snack.

“Are you hungry?” He asks, the familiar softness of his voice shaking you from your daze as he closes the refrigerator door after his unsuccessful search. Here’s the thing: you really aren’t hungry, but Hyunjin clearly is, so if you say no then all he will be thinking about is food until you decide that you are hungry. “Yeah,” is what you say, nudging Kkami off your crossed legs to stand, “I brought green tea and a few snacks, but we could order Chinese food or something. The place near Dunkin’ and the gas station makes bubble tea now, too.”

Hyunjin’s brows shoot up, flashing his boxy smile. “Is it good?”

“I mean, I’ve only had their pork dumplings and mango tea before, and it was pretty good. I don’t know about their noodles or anything, though,” you shrug, moving to stand beside him at the kitchen island. Distracted by Kkami trying to jump onto the sofa in the living room, you don’t look to Hyunjin until the poor dog is successful in doing so. Startled to find him already gazing down at you, your heart truly is not prepared for him to go right ahead and wrap his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. Totally not freaking out or trying to overthink his need to constantly cling, you justify his actions by quickly recalling the time he said, “My head is too godtdamn big for my godtdamn body.” More like his head is too heavy because instead of a brain it’s just a chunk of cement up there. He just needs to rest his head sometimes.

Yeah.

“Mm, I don’t know,” Hyunjin hums, swaying your body with his to an unheard tune. By now, any coherent thought has dissipated into thin air and all you can do is melt against him. “Why?” You manage.

“’Cus if we order anything that means I’ll have to get up and get it.”

“Oh my God, Hyunjin, really?” You laugh. Your hands naturally glide to where his are linked at your stomach, pressing to interlock your fingers overtop his. “If that’s the only reason for your uncertainty than I could always come get it, idiot.”

“No! It’s okay,” Hyunjin says, jumping back before you can even process it, “I’m not that hungry anyway.”

“Ohhh ‘kay,” you laugh breathlessly, whiplashed by the whole thing. Good thing you aren’t hungry, because when was the last time Hyunjin turned down food? Blinking at him precariously, he doesn’t seem to notice until one too many seconds of silence pass by.

“C’mon,” he demands excitedly, jumping back into reality, “my roommate told me to watch this anime called Soul Eater but I wanted to watch it with you.” Once again, before anything can even register past every single That Was Cute™ alarm ringing in your brain, Hyunjin is grabbing your bag and reaching for your hand, leading you out of the kitchen and upstairs.

You and Hyunjin binge aforementioned anime until he falls asleep first around 2 AM, only stopping to order food an hour in (he’s an indecisive man indeed), to get up to retrieve it, and to actually eat while catching up. For most of the night, you are able to forget the way his heartbeat against your back mirrored your own in the kitchen. But then, a little while after you fall asleep yourself, Hyunjin unconsciously shifts closer and you spend another hour blinking at his relaxed hand twitching against your abdomen, trying to keep the hurricane inside your heart at bay.

You can’t make it home October. Hyunjin texted you to let you know he was going to be the third weekend in, and you tried desperately to manage your time in order to make it work. But one group project in chem lead to another paper in psych and before you knew it, your roommate was listening to you sob over a boy and curse out your classes.

September left you emotionally wrecked, to be totally honest. You hate Hyunjin and you hate the way he makes you feel and you especially hate how realizing you have a crush on him makes you unsure if everything he does is his way of hinting he feels the same or if he’s always been this touchy and you are just now recognizing it. So, missing a month of seeing your favorite human being essentially means missing another day of trying to decipher which actions of his go in the Friend list, and which go in the Questionable list. And that, my friend, is unacceptable.

You absolutely cannot not go home this month. November is the calm before the storm (the storm being exams looming the second week of December), and while it would be beneficial maybe staying on campus to continue preparing, you tell yourself going home will be just as helpful. Mental breaks, and stuff. Totally not just to see Hyunjin.

Either way, Hyunjin asks you if you would join him on the seventeenth to go to his second cousin’s christening and you absolutely cannot say no when you know how bored Hyunjin gets at family events when they aren’t for him. And so, fast forward to the third Sunday of November and you are ready to pass out ten minutes after entering the church.

“I’m so happy for you two! I always knew you would last into college,” one of Hyunjin’s aunts exclaims, pinching your cheeks but the only pinch you feel is that of your heart.

Clearly she is misinformed, or just prone to jumping to conclusions but yet again, you can’t really blame her with how couple-y you and Hyunjin are. Past the single tunnel vision of your gaze, you watch her smile falter when Hyunjin goes rigid beside you and oh my God this is the most embarrassing moment of my life, his whole family thinks we’re dating and here we are still stuck in each other’s friendz—

“I’m glad you think so, imo,” Hyunjin suddenly picks up, sneaking an arm around to rest his hand on your hip, tugging you close, “I don’t know what I’ll do if she ever decides to leave me.”

It’s nice to think that he means it, to imagine that you are here not as a tag-along but to join him in a family ceremony because you are part of the family. The thought turns your blood to sugar and everything surrounding you falls apart; you listen to the rest of their conversation without processing it, the precise detailing in the marble pillars blurs into a mass of white, and you still feel his strong hold on the curve of your waist yet you are lost in the swam of possibilities.

How lovely it would be to live up to her assumption. To ‘last into college’ as a couple, not as best friends. To be able to call him yours even when you’re not together, to come home and kiss his lips, to sleep in his bed and it mean more than the laziness of blowing up the air mattress. At some point, he leads you into the third pew to sit beside his parents, and when you greet them with a hug all you can think about is them viewing you as more than their son’s friend.

God, you hate it.

You’re not as religious as Hyunjin and his family. But for the first time in years, you find yourself looking to the crucifix during the service and praying to whoever is up there to give you some strength and patience, because Lord do you need it.

Hyunjin is a funny guy.

Or so he thinks.

It’s not that he isn’t funny. It’s just— compared to your friends Minho or Changbin, he isn’t at the top of the list. When you think of Hyunjin, the first words that pop up are soft, loud, and dramatic.

It’s not that he isn’t funny. He’s just weird.

Insanely, ridiculously weird. For example, the time he called Jeongin a vitamin. Or the time he slapped half a bottle of sunscreen on his face. Or his random bouts of dancing at inappropriate moments. Just to name a few.

After the Baptism, Hyunjin acted like nothing happened. Didn’t even bring it up. Not even a joke. After the ceremony, you joined his family for a luncheon, which just involved the two of you being weird and making peculiar dancing videos on SnapChat with the swirly filter and complaining about school for a few hours until he drove you home. Obviously you stopped for food again on the way.

But that was it. Things went on as normal, and you returned to campus later that night and forced the whole experience to the back of your brain. It was officially grind season, and grind season meant studying for exams. No parties. No boys. And certainly no Hyunjin.

You both were home for winter break in the blink of an eye. And in normal Hyunjin style, he sort of vanished for the first week. Probably catching up on his strict sleeping schedule, you presumed, and accepted the fact that it was going to be a few days before you saw or even heard from him. The only anticipation you felt was wanting to give him his Christmas gift.

After what seems like an eternity away from Hyunjin, you get out of the shower on this fine Saturday before Christmas to find a slew of texts from him.

[5:52 PM] big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇: Aloha mamacita

[5:52 PM] big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇: How do u feel about getting froyo tn

[5:52 PM] big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇: We can get fat and then u can sleepover aaaand

[5:52 PM] big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇: We can stare at the wall for a few hours

[5:52 PM] big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇: And

[5:53 PM] big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇: *cough*

[5:53 PM] big tiddy jinny🍯🧸🌟🖇: Exchange Jesus gifts

See? Weird. Who wants froyo when it’s thirty degrees out?

[5:53 PM] YN: “aloha mamacita”

[5:53 PM] YN: uHmmmMMM

[5:53 PM] YN: im down mr president

[5:54 PM] YN: why do u want ice cream in winter tho. don’t u want like

[5:54 PM] YN: hot chocolate or seomthing

Obviously not. Two hours later, Hyunjin arrives to pick you up for froyo despite all your efforts in convincing him maybe you could take the train to the city and watch a light show, or simply drive around and swoon over the rich people houses and their Christmas decorations. He didn’t budge. This leads you to your second question of the day: why is it that when you threw on sweats for the occasion you called yourself a hag, but upon entering Hyunjin’s car you make a mental note of how hot he looks when he’s wearing the same exact thing? You groan at the thought. It’s because it’s Hyunjin, of course.

“Bonjour, mademoiselle,” he greets, flicking your forehead once you settle into the seat of his Subaru WRX because he’s a hotshot and likes to flex that he can drive a manual. Not really— the car is absolute garbage by now, having been his Dad’s old car (his Dad likes to flex too, apparently). However, Hyunjin takes care of it enough for it to seem five years old instead of ten, and, either way, watching him work the stick shift is unexplainably hot.

You swat his hand away. “Drive, bitch,” you huff, twisting to buckle yourself in. Once he’s reversed out of your driveway, you glance back to find him fighting against a devilish smirk.

“So,” you start once he has navigated out of your neighborhood. His brow twitches up. “Are you taking Hawaiian and French at school? You’ve been throwing quite a lot of languages at me recently.” Hyunjin shoots you an unamused look. You return it with a wrinkle of your nose.

“Anyway,” he ignores your teasing, pausing to switch gears for whatever reason so he can make it through a yellow light, “how did your exams go?”

“Well, you know…” You trail off, looking to your window. It feels a lot later than eight o’clock. With it getting dark so early in the evening nowadays, it feels as if nighttime is always following you.

“You know… what?” Hyunjin interrupts your daze, concern laced in his voice. “They were fine. I passed everything, I’m just worried about my major,” you explain sadly, barely glancing at him before you are turning back to the window to stare at the moon. Must be nice being a moon. Just get to hang out in the sky watching everyone and being watched.

“I mean, if you want to switch, now’s the time. Better do it now before the second semester,” Hyunjin advises, wise as always. Not really, but he’s right. “What are you thinking of going into?”

Yikes. He’s going to kill you.

“Nursing,” you blurt.

“Oh my Lanta, ___, are you serious?” He groans, stopping at a convenient red light presenting the perfect opportunity for him to smack his forehead on the wheel. Dramatic. “How are you gonna manage that? You’ll practically be two years behind everyone else!”

“I know,” you sigh, throwing your head back on the headrest, “that’s the problem. Bio just isn’t doing it for me. I don’t think I can spend the rest of my life in a lab watching mitosis. I need something more rewarding, so theoretically nursing is a perfect start. I don’t know, though.”

“Why don’t you switch to interior design or something? We could get our own HGTV show, ___,” he says, but you don’t meet his gaze when he glances over because beneath his words, you can sense some serious hopefulness. Interior design would be cool, but you’ve never considered that as a career choice. You once helped your parents pick out everything when they redid a bathroom at home and that turned out great, but as a major?

“I don’t know, man. I’ll have to talk to my counselor about it, I guess,” you shrug, pulling the hood of your sweatshirt over your head and tightening the drawstrings until the material covers your eyes, “why can’t you audition to be a K-pop star or something? I could be your manager. Heck, even your makeup artist. I’ve done your makeup before, remember?”

Hyunjin laughs, loud, and the sound sinks deep into your heart and makes you feel warm all over. Stress? Gone.

For the next few minutes or so, the ride is comfortably quiet. At some point, he turns on the radio and Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas Is You” floods your brain and reminds you to look forward to exchanging Christmas gifts later. God, you hope he likes it. You really went out on the sentimental gifts this year.

Hood shielding your vision, you jump when his large hand suddenly comes to grab the top of your head, squeezing hard and you imagine he’s trying to press some hopefulness into your brain. “Hand on the penis stick, Hwang,” you bark, blindly reaching for his own head across the way and pulling his ear when you do so. Good Lord, you hope no one can see into the car because… what.

Hyunjin lets out a giggle this time, reaching to pull you into a headlock and even though he’s got your head shoved up against his sturdy chest and goes on to give you a noogie, you’re stuck being all high and loopy on the sound of his happiness. And hey, it’s nice to know you’re the cause of it.

“We’re literally parked, idiot. If you had your hood down you would’ve realized,” Hyunjin snickers, releasing you after watching you struggle for a few seconds. Jerking away from him, you swiftly pull back your hood. “Oh,” you laugh, reading the flashy Yogo Factory sign above the building in front of you, “you could’ve just told me instead of watching me bask in misery.”

Hyunjin suitably ignores your moaning and groaning by getting out of the car and standing in front of the car, illuminated by the headlights. Why? Why must he look so scrumptious in his black hoodie and grey sweatpants and four-year-old white Nike sneakers? He has no gosh darn right!

After fixing the mess he made of your hair, you at last join him outside the car, shooting him another glare and moving ahead of him to open the shop’s door without waiting for him. “From now on, we have to start texting each other what we’re wearing before we go out, ‘cus this looks a little ri-donk-ulous,” Hyunjin whispers in your ear as you make your way to the cup selection, trying to ignore all the stares you— no, he is getting along the way.

“What do you mean?” You ask, plucking two medium sized cups up before turning to look at him. Then you look down at yourself. Oh. Looks like you’re both wearing the hoodie from junior spirit week. “Nice.” Just Couple Things™!

Back to Hyunjin being weird— why did he drag you all the way out here just to get a cup of chocolate frozen yogurt and maybe half a scoop of peanut butter chips?

Meanwhile, he watches in absolute disgust as you blow through your own dessert. Vanilla yogurt with probably every topping offered because you physically cannot make a decision, especially when they have chunks of cookie dough up there.

“So,” Hyunjin starts, trying not to look you in the eye considering you look like a goblin shoveling globs of diabetes down your throat, “have you talked to Jisung recently?”

You choke on a Fruity Pebble at his inquiry, prompting him to reach across the table and slap your back a few times until your esophagus is cleared. “Ugh,” clearing your throat one last time, you take a few sips of water while shooting him a glare. Jisung? Really? “How dense are you?” You hiss unintentionally.

Hyunjin raises his hands in defense. “Just a question.”

Yeah, just a question. Dumbass. “I mean,” you laugh awkwardly, “not really. We have a streak on Snap and sometimes we’ll talk occasionally but I don’t text him every day or anything. How about you?”

He shrugs, concentrating instead on stirring his yogurt into a goopy mess. “Eh. We still use our group chat a lot but that’s it. He’s too busy making music in Malaysia.”

You chuckle at this, picking out the boba from your own cup and leaving the rest now that it has started to look like something sold at the Chum Bucket. “That sucks,” you offer, not the best at giving him consolidation, you opt for linking your feet around his own in some weird act of intimacy, “isn’t he coming home for the holidays, though? I’m sure you can all have a reunion soon.”

“Yeah, he is,” Hyunjin hums, suddenly too focused on trying to escape your trap under the table. Annoyed Hyunjin is cute. “Stoooop,” he whines, kicking at your shins before breaking into boisterous laughter at your relentlessness, “I will not hesitate to throw this cup at your face.”

“Yeah, right,” you scoff, “I’d like to see you try.”

At this, Hyunjin drops his stupidly long arms beneath the table and easily captures your foot by the ankle, pulling hard enough for you to slip down your side of the booth. “Hyunjin!” You shriek, panicking slightly at your sweaty hand’s insecure grip against the leather. You’re going to fall. You’re going to fall flat on your ass underneath a table at a frozen yogurt place because the boy you like pulled your foot too hard. Fantastic. Ignoring you, he starts to wiggle your shoe off your foot no matter how hard you try to squirm out of his relentless grip. “Stop trying to eat my toes in the middle of Yogo!”

Finally, he releases your foot, letting it fall limp against his thigh.

“God,” you huff, breathless as you squirm back up your seat, cheeks burning ferociously, “you are such an ass.”

Behind the playful smirk he fails to hide, something darker glints in Hyunjin’s eyes and it makes your heart skip a beat. Then, “We should go.” The suggestion makes the heat of your blush scorch even hotter down your neck and you instinctively turn away, only to find the customers on the other side of the shop watching you with just as perturbed looks. Fantastic, part two.

“Okie,” you squeak out, blinking after him in complete and total bewilderment as to what just happened when he gets up to throw his trash away. Whatever. Following after him, you too toss your cup out before quickly finding your hand engulfed by his larger one as he leads you back outside, the sudden sharpness of the cold air bringing tears to your eyes. You desperately want to ask him what that was about, or why he’s acting so sneaky, but you stay silent, too afraid your voice will come out shaky and vulnerable. Instead, you let him tug you into his side and try to keep up with him no matter how badly your knees threaten to buckle with each glance you sneak up at him.

It’s silent when you enter the car, watching warily as he reverses out of the parking spot and maneuvers through the lot. Your heart rate seemingly cannot slow itself down, adrenaline taking the place of oxygen the longer you stare at him, at the concentrated scrunch to his face, at the cute tip of his button nose and at the swell of his lips and you distantly wonder what would happen if you pulled him into a kiss at the next red light.

In the midst of your daydream Hyunjin clears his throat, bringing you back to reality and you realize with a startle that he has caught you. Jesus Christ! What has gotten into you? You mentally smack yourself upside the head, instantly turning away from his cocky little gaze and staring straight ahead in search of something else to focus on. “___,” he sing-songs, slow and sensual and entirely demolishing the walls you have built around yourself. It is at this red light you wish to simply open the door and run.

“Yes?” You manage, wincing at how small your voice sounds and while looking out his window instead of into his eyes, you notice him grip the steering wheel hard enough to turn his knuckles white. The tension is insurmountable, weighing in heavily on your chest and you desperately wish to arrive home, even though that means having to survive the next twelve hours with him. Anything is better than the small confines of his car.

“What do you want to do when we get home?” He asks, cool as a cucumber. You pale. It is a dangerous question and you do not know if he realizes that. “Um,” you cough, scooting to sit up straight, “whatever you want.” You whisper the last part, genuinely petrified because you have absolutely no idea if your brain is twisting everything to make it seem like Hyunjin is flirting or if things are totally normal. No idea.

“Hm,” he offers, tilting his head in thought, “we shall see.”

Yeah. We shall.

The rest of the ride is quiet, comfortably or uncomfortably you cannot say because you are too busy trying to calm the Spongebob burning office scene occurring inside your own head, hopelessly telling yourself that everything is fine, Hyunjin’s fine, you’re fine. Just pretend like nothing happened, you tell yourself when Hyunjin pulls into his driveway with practiced ease. “Ugh,” he groans after retrieving your bag from the back seat, and you watch with a raised brow as he skips up to his porch, yelling, “I have to pee!”

“Begone with you, piss boy,” you tease, holding the screen door open for him as he struggles to unlock the storm door and pulling on one of his hoodie’s drawstrings just to annoy him. “Stop,” he growls, low and playful but nevertheless sending a swarm of butterflies to your tummy. You ignore him. Finally unlocking the door, Hyunjin shoves the keys into his pocket and seizes your wrist, yanking your arm down with enough force to nearly topple you into him. “Why are you being so annoying tonight?” He frowns at you, nose and brows scrunched in irritation and it is only because of his proximity do you finally soften up.

“Sorry,” you pout back, bringing your other hand up to boop his nose, “I just missed ya.”

“Ew,” he snorts, stepping past the threshold and kicking off his shoes. You follow suit, closing the door behind you and clicking the lock into place as Kkami comes sprinting over. “B-R-B,” Hyunjin announces, presumably bouncing away to the bathroom.

“Oh, boy,” you huff, squatting to pick up the fluffy little dog and hugging him close to your chest, “your dad is making my life very difficult.” Pressing a quick kiss to the top of his head, you put Kkami back down and grab your bag before heading upstairs, knowing Hyunjin is going to take his grand old time and probably take a shit while he’s at it. Plus, you’re impatient and dying to take your bra off.

Aside from what light his Gudetama nightlight offers, Hyunjin’s room is ultimately left dark. Here’s the thing: he used to have a lamp on his dresser, but then he took it with him to college and only brings it home for summer because he’s lazy and sleeps the majority of the time he’s home, anyway. Instead, he put up his little remote-controlled Christmas tree in addition to the lava lamp he has beside his bed. Perfect. For Hyunjin, at least.

Switching both of these on, their subtle glow offers just enough to keep you from banging your toe against something. It’s happened one too many times. Hyunjin’s room isn’t messy— he really isn’t a messy person to begin with, but he will reorganize the furniture in his room fifty times a year and you never know where the crooked leg to his bedside table will be to ambush your pinky toe.

Setting your bag onto his bed, you excitedly fumble past all your layers and unclasp your bra, maneuvering out of it with a delighted exhale just as Hyunjin begins his ascent up the stairs, steps creaking loudly under his heavy trudging. “I’m an idiot,” he grumbles, leaning against the doorframe to catch his breath.

You don’t bother to look at him, opting to quickly retort instead, “We been knew.”

“Ugh,” Hyunjin groans, exasperated, and you finally turn to him after successfully jamming aforementioned undergarment into your bag, “anyways. I don’t know why I didn’t just come up here, because I have to wash my face anyway and you do too and now we’re both going to have to share a sink.”

“Aw,” you coo, tone dripping with sarcasm as you pat his arm, “poor baby has to share the bathroom.”

“I’m actually going to strangle you,” he sighs, nevertheless following after you into the bathroom.

“Kinky.”

Hyunjin glares, unamused as he opens a drawer for his pink bow hairband and your striped pink and blue one that he bought for you, but keeps here for sleepovers. Yeah. He throws it to your face. “Sorry,” you offer, pulling the soft headband up to hold your hair back, “I’ll try to stop. I’m just so used to annoying you.”

“Clearly,” he scoffs, flashing his stupidly cute teasing smile and in your head, you imagine raising a white flag in surrender— he’s got you, he’s won, it’s over. Time to call it quits and head home. Evidently shut up (for now), you offer him a roll of your eyes before turning on the sink to wet your hands before pumping out some of his scrumptious watermelon face wash. Maybe if you scrub hard enough, you’ll manage to rinse away all the overwhelming thoughts of the night, too.

Barefaced Hyunjin is immaculate. Well, Hyunjin is immaculate twenty-four hours out of the day, but barefaced, freshly washed, hair messy, ready for bed Hyunjin is immaculate, and you are one of the few people lucky enough to see this eighth wonder of the world as often as you do.

Now, maybe it has something to do with the unexpected ambiance the light from his laptop, Christmas lights, and lava lamp have created together that makes him look so unfairly beautiful at this given moment. Or, you’re just insanely pussywhipped and looking for an excuse. You try not to think about it.

“Why are you so squirmy tonight?” He asks, frustrated enough to interrupt Kermit singing ‘Shawty I don’t mind’ playing from his laptop. “I’m not,” you defend, a weak argument indeed, given that you have just finished adjusting your position beside him for the umpteenth time.

“I mean, four female Ghostbusters? The feminists are taking over! I’m an ad—”

“___, you’ve touched my dick like four times. Don’t try and tell me you’re not squirmy. What’s wrong?” Hyunjin interrupts a second Vine, and even goes on to talk over ‘I have the power of God and anime on my side!’ like a lunatic. Oh Christ, you have? Surely you would have noticed. “Sorry,” you mumble, embarrassed as you bury your face into the curve of his pectoral and instinctively move your leg settled between his away, “I’m just hot, to be honest.” Technically, it is not a lie. Hyunjin’s family definitely keeps their thermostat at a higher temperature than yours and you always manage to sweat your ass off every time you come over. This time, however, you are certain it has more to do with the assault your heart is facing rather than your sweat glands.

At the sound of his tap against the spacebar to pause the video, you wordlessly and reluctantly sit up from your comfortable spot beside him in order to rid yourself of your heavy sweatshirt. Now, here lies the problem. Sweatshirt: off. Nipples: out. Realistically, Hyunjin has seen your boobs a number of times over the past few years, and even if he hadn’t, he probably wouldn’t even bat an eye. But right now, your heart is on the line, you’re embarrassed and you’re trying to play it extremely safe.

You toss the hoodie to the floor and nestle right back where you were anyway, slinging your right arm over his torso and ignoring his sharp intake of breath when you snuggle closer. “Better?” He asks, voice strained and it literally makes you nauseous. “Yep.”

He resumes the video. You had started early in the night watching Pom Poko, which unsurprisingly ended with the two of you crying at the bittersweet ending, then moved to TikTok compilations on YouTube to cheer up before moving on from them and onto the classic Vine compilations. You paid good attention for the most part, chuckling along with him to ‘What up, I’m Jared, I’m nineteen and I never fucking learned how to read,’ ‘Bruh chill, I don’t know why you in a big time rush,’ and all the other absolute comedic masterpieces. But after the fourth or fifth video of the same six second clips with an occasional rare one, you began to grow bored and decided to do what you do best: admire Hyunjin.

Sure, ‘Come get yo juice!’ followed by the loud smash of the oven made you smile, but you found the flashing lights casting shadows beneath Hyunjin’s eyes and lips much more fascinating. Of course, this is not the first time you have been held so close to him. But it is, however, all too easy to get lost in the sight of him and you’ve noticed recently that you are in desperate need of a map. Whether it’s due to your time away from him or simply an appreciation for untouched beauty you do not know.

Even now, your gaze flickers to his laptop once you hear ‘Get to Del Taco,’ but having already watched it five thousand times you tilt your head upward to catch Hyunjin’s silent giggle at ‘free-sha-voca-do.’ It’s a vicious cycle, really, going back and forth between wanting to simply enjoy the night and realizing enjoying the night lies totally in Hyunjin’s presence. And so, you continue to fall into this trap each time until you pay no mind to the videos at all, basking in the brilliance of Hyunjin’s joyous smile and the warmth his happiness makes you feel. It is this thought that slowly tugs you to sleep, a fight to keep your heavy eyelids open lost until finally, you give in to the comfort and allow yourself to drift off to the sound of ‘Step the fuck up, Kyle.’

You think you are dreaming.

You think.

“___,” the softness of Hyunjin’s voice at the crown of your head eases you from the clutches of sleep and you stretch your locked limbs before curling further into his side. “We didn’t open presents.” Even though you can’t see him, you can hear his pout, and you realize you must be awake to hear the disappointed words caught sluggishly between his lips so vividly. You hum, hesitant to open your eyes because you really want to go back to sleep. Just for a little while. And so, you ask, “What time is it?”

“Just past two,” he whispers.

You hum again, trying to formulate a sensible sentence in the parts of your brain still asleep, “We can… wake up at four. And open gifts. Okay?”

“Okay, weirdo,” Hyunjin chuckles to himself, sliding lower down the mattress after shutting his laptop.

You think you are dreaming.

You think.

You can’t remember ever falling asleep facing each other. But yet again, your brain is clouded beyond capability and now, you know for certain you are dreaming. Hyunjin never faces you.

Blinking slowly, it takes a few seconds for your eyes to adjust to the impenetrable darkness and you struggle to make out the features of Hyunjin’s face. You know you are dreaming, and so you tug him closer, throwing a leg over his thigh and an arm over his waist. Even in your sleep, you feel the sadness pricking at your heart, for even it knows this is only what dreams are made of. You like to make the best of it.

“You know I love you, Jinnie, right?” Your voice comes out funny, drawn out and mumbled like your tongue is numb and you fight the urge to feel for yourself.

“Of course I do. I love you too.” His reply surprises you. You thought he was asleep and, either way, hearing such fond words from him puts your heart at ease. He must be misunderstood.

“No. I mean like… I like you, love you. Like I want to kiss you… kiss you good morning and before bed love you. Send you hearts and take stupid couple pics and… go on dumb dates love you. You know?” Your words feel garbled and incomprehensible the longer you go on, trying to express how you feel when nothing is real proving to be increasingly difficult. God, if only you could do it when things are real.

You start to feel yourself slipping as he mutters a reply, mind in free fall and fuck, fuck, fuck, he’s whispering and you can’t hear him but you are too tired and helpless to wake yourself up to hear it. No, too lost in the next dream to go back. You can’t tell what is real and what isn’t. Christ, were you awake? You can’t tell. All you know is that you are warm, so, so warm and letting sleep take over you once more is the best answer to all your questions.

Hyunjin always says he hates waking people up. Because he’s normally the one needing to be awoken, whenever the roles are swapped he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do.

This time, however, he takes it upon himself to repeatedly smack your face with his pillow. Not a fun experience when it’s coming from someone who fails to recognize his own strength. “Jesus, fuck! Okay!” You hiss, the cloud of sleep abruptly ripped away from you with the slap of his pillow against your skin. Arms raised defensively in front of you, you catch his next swing and tear the pillow out of his grasp to shield yourself all before you have even opened your eyes. When you do so, with the blatant intention just to find where he is and hurl the pillow at him, you are met with the harsh light from his ceiling fan and have to squint past the stinging white light to see his shit-eating grin.

“Was that necessary?” You groan, undeniably annoyed and wanting to glare at him more but needing to rub the ache out of your eyes. “Yes,” is all he says, reaching for your bag and catapulting it to you. He is incredibly lucky you are quick enough to catch it before it thumps against your head. What has gotten into him? Did he eat an entire bag of Pixy Stix while you were asleep? You watch, still dazed from sleep and reeling from the whole pillow smacking attack, as he flings open his closet door and turns back around with two neatly wrapped boxes. You squint to make out the dancing Santa T-rex wrapping paper.

“Oh,” you chirp, understanding, and you unzip your bag to retrieve the large box taking up the majority of space, “thanks for waking me up. I’m surprised you remembered. Did you stay up?”

A rosy blush burns its way across his cheekbones. Odd. “I, um— yeah. No, actually,” he stutters, really odd, given he was bouncing off the walls not even thirty seconds ago, “I set an alarm. You made me sleepy.” Hyunjin sits beside you once you have scooted over, leaning against the wall and crossing his long ass legs. He keeps his eyes trained on the boxes in his hands. “Oh,” you hum, looking to your own gift and suddenly wishing for the mattress to swallow you up, “sorry. I haven’t gotten as much sleep as you on break so far.”

“I don’t think anyone ever has,” he jokes and you finally look to him, sharing a cheeky smile before he gets all shy again, tongue darting out to wet his lips, “um, Merry Christmas, ___.”

It’s a simple phrase, but it makes your heart swell. “Merry Christmas to you too, Hyunjin.” Leaning over, you wrap your arms around his shoulders in an awkward side hug, but still end up feeling all drunk and loopy on love when he eagerly returns the gesture, arms curling around you.

“Okay,” you huff, sitting back, “me first.” You dramatically hold your gift out to him, jittery and nervous all over. Buying for Hyunjin is always hard. He’s just so easy to please, but when you want to do more than just please him it’s a constant battle trying to decide how far out you are going to go for him each year.

You watch impatiently as he tears the wrapping paper open first, and then finally lifts the flaps of the box up. “Aw,” he whimpers, pulling out the quokka plushie and attached certificate, “you adopted a quokka for me?”

You grin when he hugs the soft stuffed animal to his chest, the weight on your shoulders partly lifted from his positive reaction. He reaches back into the box, brow scrunched in thought as he regards the framed picture. “The First Day…?” Hyunjin asks, perplexed as he reads the title above the constellation poster. You scoot closer, leaning over to look it over once more. “This was the constellation of stars on our first day of freshman year. The day we first met.”

“Oh,” Hyunjin sniffs, “that’s really awesome, ___. Thank you. This is coming with me to school.” At this, he hugs you again, probably to hide the tears you know are threatening to spill because Hyunjin is Baby and cries every year. “Anything for my favorite fake Aussie,” you smile, leaning your head on his shoulder as he reads through the quokka adoption letter.

“Okay! Your turn!” He exclaims, setting his gifts back into the box and passing you the smaller one of his. He catches your curious glance to the second one he keeps by his side. “We have to open this one together.”

“Christ, okay. Looks like I’m gonna be crying tonight, too,” you sigh sadly. “Ooh,” jumping ahead of yourself, you wiggle your eyebrows at the white box before you, “Hyunjin if you bought me a Fitbit… I swear to God. How many times have I said I am not working out with you?” However, once you finish tearing open the wrapping paper you find it is not, in fact, a Fitbit.

“It’s not a Fitbit, idiot,” Hyunjin scoffs a second too late, waiting for you to slip the lid off the box. “They’re bond touch bracelets.”

“Explain,” you murmur, enamored but confused at the two little house arrest looking bracelets.

“So basically, we each wear one,” Hyunjin starts, taking one of the bracelets out and a burst of color blooms across its small screen at the motion, “and if you touch it, mine vibrates and I ‘feel’ your touch.” As he explains, he buckles it around your wrist, twisting it so it lies correctly. You silently take the second one and help it on him, brain too caught up to actually say anything.

“Try it,” Hyunjin whispers, suppressing his excitement.

You gingerly bring a finger to the little screen, tapping it once, twice. Nothing happens. Frowning, you try again, tapping and holding, then a second time, and finally— a strip of pink light appears and the bracelet gently vibrates as you tap and hold a random pattern. In response, the bracelet on Hyunjin’s wrist lights up blue, buzzing in the same pattern.

“Oh, Hyunjin,” you sniffle, fighting back your own tears because you refuse to let yourself ugly cry in front of him, “this is amazing. Now I can annoy you year-round. Thank you so, so much. I love you so much.” He hums, pulling you close when you turn to give him a proper hug. To your utmost surprise, however, instead of letting go he curls one fist into your side and helps swing your legs over to straddle his lap. “Oh.”

“___,” Hyunjin sighs thoughtfully, fingers playing with the sleeves of your tee, “I love you, too.”

You nearly spit up your coffee. If you were drinking coffee. Instead, you’re left with a dry mouth and a slack jaw at his words. Huh?

Glancing to the constellation picture peeking out of his box, and then to the matching bracelets you both wear, you find your mind reeling trying to make sense of it all. Yeah, you say the forbidden L-word to each another all the time, but most certainly not with you on his on lap and his lips mere centimeters away. The answer is so obviously clear as day you have trouble believing it.

“Fuck,” you laugh all of a sudden, as soon as the realization hits you, “I wasn’t dreaming, was I?”

Hyunjin lets out a joyous giggle, hands linking behind your back. Unable to hide his smile any longer, he clarifies, “You were not, madam. We literally just finished talking about when we were going to open gifts and then I got ready to sleep. Two seconds later you dumped your heart out to me, but when I answered, you were asleep.”

“Bruh,” you wince, hiding your face with your hands, “I am so sorry you had to deal with that.”

“No, don’t be,” Hyunjin comforts, reaching to tug your hands away. Your gut does somersaults when he intertwines his fingers with yours. “I was actually, uh, planning on doing some sort of confession to you anyway, but then you went right ahead and did it for me. So thanks for that.”

“Wow,” you chuckle, trying to wrap your mind around it all, “does that mean you, ahem, perhaps like me too?”

“No, I just got us really couple-y long distance relationship bracelets, pulled you onto my lap, and kissed you because I just want to be friends.”

“You didn’t kiss m—”

The sly little fucker interrupts your retort by quickly dipping down to press a fat smooch to your lips, missing miserably and you don’t know if he did it on purpose but you quickly fix the problem, releasing his hands to cradle his jaw and tilt his head the right angle. Finally, finally you kiss him, breathing in the smell of him like some sort of aromatherapy and whimpering into his mouth when his tongue swipes against your own. It is like nothing you have ever experienced, the taste and feel of him making you tremble and igniting a burst of electricity through your veins. You could kiss him forever, you think, sucking on his plump bottom lip greedily until he finally pulls back, desperate for air or trying to reel himself in you can’t say.

“You have to open your other gift,” Hyunjin reminds, chest heaving, and your gaze follows his long fingers as they comb his hair away from his forehead. Automatically, as if kissing Hyunjin once grants you some kind of free pass to do the same, you brush a few stray strands away from his face before leaning back to admire him. “Stoooop. You can’t do that and not expect me to kiss you again. Open. Your. Gift.” Hyunjin whines, squishing your cheeks and turning your head away.

“Okay, don’t blame this on me,” you huff, reaching for the second box before jabbing a finger into his chest, “you, sir, need to stop being so beautiful for like, two seconds.”

He scoffs, helping you rip off the wrapping paper, “You’re the beautiful one here.”

“Ew,” you wrinkle your nose, most certainly not used to Hyunjin dishing out such compliments, “this is too Hallmark Christmas movie for me. Let me open my gift in peace, ugly.” This box, unlike the bracelets’, is simple cardboard and when you lift open the lid, a brown leather book looks back at you. “You remember Up?” He asks.

On the leather, it reads Our Adventure Book in mismatched colors. “Yeah,” you whisper, flipping open the cover to find two baby pictures glued on the paper, one of Hyunjin, and one of you. At the top, it’s labeled ‘Before Shit Went Down.’ You laugh.

On the next page, there are random photographs from middle school, and then finally each other’s eighth grade graduation portraits. Then, written at the top is ‘Here It Begins,’ followed by a selfie he randomly took with you a few weeks into school freshman year, and then some from homecoming. Silently flipping through the rest of the book, your tears flow freely now, touched beyond comparison at all the photographs and all the memories accompanying them. Some are from large events like prom, others from random moments you don’t even remember, but each and every one comes together to form a special mold fitting perfectly into that Hyunjin-shaped hole in your heart.

The last picture is from the christening last month. Of course, it isn’t one of the nicer photos his mom took of the two of you, but a SnapChat selfie with the flaming sunglasses filter. He’s mid-laugh and you’re pressing a kiss to his cheek. Funny thing is, you don’t even remember taking it.

The page next to it is blank, aside from what’s written at the top of the page. “Togetha Foreva,” you read aloud, voice choked up and God, you cannot fathom how gross you look right now. “What the fuck, man!” You sob, punching Hyunjin’s shoulder before wiping your nose and cheeks with the back of your hands. “I didn’t sign up for this cock and ball torture.”

Hyunjin laughs loudly at this, pulling you into a hug and giving you a few seconds to recover. “Hyunjin, this is like… seriously the best thing anyone has ever done for me, holy shit. God, you Pinterest son of a bitch, this is such a good idea,” you groan, flipping back through the pages and getting teary-eyed all over again, “I can’t express how much this means to me, Jinnie. Thank you, really.”

Flashing that toothy grin of his, Hyunjin tugs you to lie back down with him and tilts your head up to press a much more accurate kiss to your lips. “I meant what I said before, ___,” he murmurs, “I don’t know what to do without you, and I know we only get to see each other once a month but I can’t keep living as just friends. You’re so much more than that. And I hope all the pictures we add from now on will show this new chapter of our lives. If not, well, then I guess I’ll just burn the book.”

“Are you asking me to be Kkami’s official poop-picker-upper?”

“Yes. Wait— what? No!”

You break into a fit of laughter, only to be interrupted with him pinching your side and causing you to let out a yelp. “Hey!” You bark, jumping closer to him and away from his hand until, finally, you give in to your self-indulgence and go right on ahead in swinging a leg over his hips and pinning him beneath you.

“You ruined my serious love speech, ___,” Hyunjin pouts, face scrunched up at you.

“I’m sorry, baby, go on.”

You pause, blinking slowly at him. He blinks back, the silence in the air weighing in heavily as both of your two brain cells bounce around trying to figure out what did you just call him?

“Never mind,” Hyunjin says, voice a low rumble of thunder as he reaches for your hips and easily flips positions, “I think you’re on the same boat.”

You laugh, tilting your head back and eyeing him indignantly. Fuck, he looks unfairly delectable hovering above you.

“Okay, how many more times do I have to tell you I love you for you to formally ask me to be your girlfriend, stupid?” You scowl, bringing your hands to cradle his neck, thumbs brushing delicately against his jaw.

“Call me baby again and we’ll see about making that happen.”

You raise a brow, tugging his face closer by the chain of his necklace. “You’re lucky it’s Christmas, baby.”

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general-kenobi357 · 3 years

Text

Someday Soon-Chapter 1

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Fem!OC

Summary: The only goal Isabella Bailer has this summer, is to have a good time with her friends, the Pogues. But when they find a ship wreck after a hurricane their summer takes an unexpected turn.

Note: So this is my first fic that I have actually properly finished and I am so excited to share it. I first posted it on Wattpad but I find that I don't really use that platform much so I wanted to post it somewhere I go on often. I hope you enjoy my twist on Outer Banks :) Also the I have written Iz to be as nondescript as I could so that you can imagine her however you want.

Word Count: 10.5k (The first chapter is really long but later on the chapters get shorter.)

🔅🔆🔅

We’re the Pogues, and our mission this summer is to have a good time, all the time.

The soft breeze brought the smell of the ocean to my nose while the sun shone brightly on my cheeks. I had to squint to see my friends through the bright rays. As the sun fell lower the day only seemed to get warmer, the beer in my hand brought a cool relief, after taking another drink a smile grew on my face as I listened to the conversation between Pope and John B.

“That’s what, a three-story fall to the deck?” Pope asked, looking up at John B who was currently balancing on one foot on the edge of the roof. We were all hanging around one of the many mini-mansions that were under construction in Figure Eight. “I give you about a one-in-three chance of survival.”

“Hm” John B replied as he stuck a finger into the air pretending to check the direction of the wind. “Should I do it?”

“Yeah, jump.” Pope quipped, pointing a drill at him. “I'll shoot you on the way down.”

“You’ll shoot me?”

“Yep. Pow!”

“They’re gonna have Japanese toilets with towel warmers.” Kie told us shocked, as she emerged from the house that was yet to be finished.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t they?” I inquired somewhat bitterly from my spot sitting next to JJ. Nothing Kooks did surprised me anymore, all they seemed to care about was their own vanity.

“This used to be a turtle habitat, but who cares about turtles, I guess?” Kie asked, sounding somewhat defeated. I sent her a sad smile, wishing I had more power to change the way things were.

“I can’t have cold towels.” JJ added sarcastically before we all directed our gaze towards John B.

“Can you please not kill yourself?” Kie asked him sweetly as he continued to lean dangerously close to the edge of the building.

“Yeah that would really ruin my summer.” I added, I had protested John B climbing onto the roof in the first place but once that boy got something into his mind, no one could change it.

“And don’t spill that beer. I’m not giving you another one.” JJ warned seconds before the can slipped through John B’s grasp and came crashing onto the deck.

“Whoa! Oh, shit.” John B exclaimed as he attempted to regain his balance on the roof, I turned to look out at the ocean again, not wanting to see him hit the deck as well.

“Of course you did. Smooth.”

“A plus.” Pope commented as he leaned over the side of the deck before looking back at the group. “Hey, uh, security’s here. Let’s wrap it up.”

“Humpty Dumpty, let’s roll.” JJ called to John B while he hopped off of the scaffolding we had been sitting on, before turning around and offering me his hand to help me get down. “Sweetheart?”

“Thank you.” I replied, accepting the hand he held out as I jumped down onto the deck.

“Yeah. Let’s go.” John B agreed as he followed us down.

“Gary, is that you?” JJ called out to the security guard as we gathered our stuff up. “It’s me. Gary, good to see you, man!”

“You’re just asking for it.” I told him as I shook my head trying to hold in my laughter.

“Get ‘em! They’re comin’ your way!” I heard one of the guards shout from behind me as I followed Kie towards the van. “Hey! Stop!”

I spared a glance behind me as I exited the house and saw the guard catching up to JJ.

“Not much of a hugger!” I heard JJ shout as he avoided the guard.

As I ran down the front steps John B pulled up in the van, Kie hopped into the passengers seat as I climbed into the back leaving the side door open for the boys to jump in whenever it was they decided to show up.

“Bus is leaving!” John B called out as he honked the horn. I peered out the back window watching as Pope started climbing over the fence, before promptly falling flat on his face. JJ hoped over next and helped him back to his feet.

“Come on, boys!” Kie called.

I held out my hand for Pope who was struggling to get into the moving van. Once both boys were inside John B stepped on the gas and we all watched Gary hopelessly chase after us. We were all left in a fit of laughter after JJ was done teasing the poor security guard.

🔅🔆🔅

The Outer Bank, Paradise on Earth. It’s the sort of place where you either have two jobs or two houses. Two tribes, one island.

All right. So there’s Figure Eight, the rich side of the island. Home of the Kooks. So, guess where we don’t live?

And then, there’s the South Side or the Cut. Home to the working class who make a living busing tables, washing yachts, running charters. The natural habitat of… drumroll, please… the Pogues.

That’s us.

Pogues, Pogies, the throwaway fish. Lowest member of the food chain. Okay. So, the downside of the Pogue life is we’re ignored and neglected. But the upside of the Pogue life? We’re ignored and neglected, which means we do whatever we want, whenever we want. So, let me introduce you to the crew.

First up… JJ Maybank, my best friend since the third grade. He's about as local as they come. Latest in a long line of fishing, drinking, smuggling, vendetta-holding salt-lifers who made their living off the water. Best surfer I know. Just don’t tell him I said that. Mild kleptomaniac and a future tax cheat.

Next up is Isabella Bailer but we just call her Iz. A former Kook up until she was ten and her dad was caught embezzling money from his company and promptly arrested, her family basically lost everything. Shortly after that she moved in next door. Definitely the Mom of the group, she basically takes care of all of us, and when she’s not cleaning up our messes, she’s working with her Mom, cleaning houses for the Kooks. Iz is the sweetest girl you’ll ever meet until you threaten her friends then you better run the other way and hope she doesn’t find you.

After Iz there’s Kiara Carrera, or Kie, as we call her. When she’s not saving turtles or listening to Marley, or getting a dolphin tattoo, she hangs out with us. I’m not really sure why though. So, she’s a rich kid, actually. Foot in both worlds. Her family owns The Wreck, this Outer Banks institution. Total cash cow with the tourists. You know, I’m not really sure how her parents feel about us. But I think we all have had a thing for her at one point or another.

Finally we have Pope Heyward, the brains of the operation… finalist for the Lucas T. Vanderhorst Merit Scholarship. And the smartest person I know. Little bit of a weirdo. His father’s this legendary character, Heyward. Anything you wanted on the island, Hayward could get for you. Now, I’m not sure Heyward knew what to make of his oddball son, but it didn’t matter. He was a Pogue, just like the rest of us.

So, that’s my crew. And my name is John Booker Routledge. I’ve been living on my own for the past nine months in an old fish shack on the marsh. The Château, as my dad used to call it. Where is my dad? Well he disappeared at sea nine months ago, looking for a shipwreck. Who disappears at sea these days? I miss him. Any other possible guardians who could look after me, might be your next question? Well Mom split when I was three. Last I heard she was in Colorado and Uncle T who is supposedly my legal guardian is currently in Mississippi, building houses…

Which means it’s just me right now, on my own, hangin’ with my friends.

🔅🔆🔅

I swung lazily in the hammock that sat between John B’s house and my own as I watched the water. The sun was starting to rise higher and I could already tell it was going to be another long hot day. I was lost in my own thoughts until I felt the hammock dip to the side. Glancing up I gave John B a small smile as he tried to readjust the balance of the hammock.

“You know I really hate this thing?” He told me still struggling.

“I know it's ‘cause you don’t know how to relax.” I replied, teasing him as I shifted to help balance the hammock after the change in weight.

“I’m gonna take it down one of these days.” He threatened, finally leaning back.

“No, I love this hammock, it's my favorite spot.”

“I know I’m only teasing you, I’m not sure you would ever talk to me again if I took away your hammock.”

“You’re damn right I wouldn't.” I told him attempting to sound serious before letting out a laugh. We laid quietly for a few minutes before I spoke up again. “So do you have big plans today?”

“Um, yes.” He responded after taking a moment to think. “I get to go down to social services and talk to some people about how there are no responsible adults in my life.”

“Oh that sounds like sooo much fun.”

“I know right? You want to come with me?”

“As much as I would love that, JJ said he was going to take me out so I could practice driving the boat.” I had my license but I was not the best driver on land and I had barely ever driven in the water.

“Oooh you and JJ alone on a boat?” John B asked, stretching out his words and wiggling an eyebrow at me. He loved to tease me about the very obvious crush that I had on JJ every chance he got. At his teasing I took the half empty beer he had brought out with him much to his protest.

“No, number one, you and I both know that I will never be brave enough to make a move, number two, no Pogue on Pogue macking and number three I think that Pope said he was coming with us.” I rambled about the many reasons why what John B was suggesting would never happen before I downed the rest of the beer and handed back the empty bottle.

“Wow, thanks, I wanted to drink that.” He commented on the bottle in the grass beside us, I shrugged my shoulders as if to tell him he should have expected it after his teasing. “Also if I were you I’d go confirm that JJ still knew this was happening because he’s inside with a girl right now and they looked like they might be awhile.”

“Seriously?” I groaned trying to cover up my jealousy with annoyance. I knew that I had no right to be jealous, JJ didn’t belong to me and I was far too scared to ever confess how I really felt, not that I could even figure out how I really felt. But it still hurt to see him with different girls all the time. “I guess I’ll go investigate.”

I quickly stood from the hammock before thinking, but it was too late. As I turned around and watched the hammock flip and John B tumble off onto the grass below.

“Thanks for the heads up.” He grumbled as I helped him to his feet.

“Sorry. I forgot how terrible you are at sitting in a hammock.” I said trying to cover the smile on my face.

“Yeah laugh it up, your friend just got attacked by a hammock, real funny.” He replied pretending to be upset as he dusted the dirt off of himself.

“I mean it is kind of funny.” I called over my shoulder as I made my way back towards The Château to find out who was around. “I’ll see you later John B.”

I stepped onto the porch only to find Pope stretched out on the couch fast asleep. ‘I suppose he won’t be joining us.’ I thought as I walked past him into the house.

In the main room Kie laid on the pull out couch blowing clouds of vapor above her. I sent her a soft smile which she returned before I turned the corner towards the bedrooms in the Château.

Only one of the room's doors was closed so I figured that was where JJ was. I raised my hand to knock on the door but the sound of a shrill giggle stopped me. I was pretty sure I didn’t want to know what was going on so my hand retracted back from the door and I walked back towards where Kie was.

I laid down beside her with a sigh. Kie shifted closer to me as we both just hung out.

“I’m pretty sure it’s some Touron who’ll be gone by the end of the week.” Kie finally spoke up, I raised my head to send her a questioning look. “The girl in there.” She added pointing to the room JJ was in.

“Oh.” I nodded laying back down. I stared back up at the ceiling, contemplating whether I wanted more details about this girl. “Was she pretty?”

“I didn’t get a good look.” She responded.

“Huh.” I responded, unsure if she was telling the truth or just trying to make me feel better. “Are you working today?” I asked, wanting to change the subject before I thought about JJ anymore.

“Um, yeah. I have to leave soon.” Kie responded, glancing at the time on her phone. “Did you want to come with me, I might be able to sneak out fries for you.”

“No, I better stay here. I think my Mom has a few things she wants me to do before the storm tonight.” I responded, I also still half hoped that JJ would want to hang out.

“Okay, well I’m sure that I’ll see you tomorrow.” She said, smiling as she stood to gather her stuff.

“Yeah, tomorrow morning we’ll all go out and check out the damage.” I responded, standing up as well.

“Love you.” She cooed, pulling me into a hug.

“Love you too.” I responded, before we both let go of each other. She then grabbed her backpack and headed for the door. “Stay safe!” I called after her as she walked towards her car.

After Kie had left I had made my way to the dock, which is where I was now sitting watching the stormy clouds that were forming out in the open water.

“Hey.” Pope spoke softly, alerting me to his presence, before he sat down next to me.

“Hey, I figured you were going to sleep all day.” I teased, sparing a glance at him.

“Yeah, I guess I was more tired than I thought.” He responded with a smile. “It looks like it’s gonna be bad.” He added, referring to the dark clouds that were beginning to move closer.

“Yeah I just hope it isn’t too loud, last year Emmy had nightmares all summer from the thunder.” I said, remembering how bad my little sister’s nightmares had gotten.

“Well there aren't any thunderstorms in Agatha’s path so there shouldn’t be much thunder this time.” He informed me.

“You are too smart for me, Pope.” I said with a smile.

“Speaking of smart things, we should bring in the boat before it ends up in a tree somewhere down the road.” He said, I looked over at the boat which had sat in the water by the dock all day, waiting for us. I was more than a little bitter over the fact that JJ had stood me up. “Iz?” Pope asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, yeah let’s bring in the boat.” I finally responded before standing up to help Pope.

We were able to bring in the boat before Pope had to head home to help out his Dad and I walked back to my house to help my Mom before the storm hit.

🔅🔆🔅

The next morning I woke up to the sound of someone clattering around in the kitchen. After getting dressed I walked out to see my Mom and Emmy at the kitchen table eating breakfast in the dark.

“No power?” I asked as I flipped the switch knowing nothing would happen.

“Nope.” My Mom replied as she walked past me to put her bowl in the sink. “And no water. I’m gonna pick up another tank of water from Heyward on my way home from work. Seems like the storm took out the whole island. Listen I know that you wanna hang out with your friends but I need you to take down all the storm shutters at some point.”

“Mom the day after a hurricane is a free day.” I argued, I knew better than to argue with her most of the time but I still had to try.

“I know and I’m not saying right this minute but at some point it would be nice.” She surprised me with her reply, most days I would get a lecture about talking back.

“Are you feeling okay?” I asked checking her forehead temperature.

“Yeah are you feeling okay Mommy?” Emmy parroted from behind us, one of her new hobbies.

“Yes, I’m feeling fine.” She said, swatting my hand away from her forehead. “I’m trying to be nice, this is your last summer before you graduate and I know you’ve been working a lot.”

“Okay…” I replied, still suspicious that this was some kind of trick. Quickly kissing her cheek, I grabbed my bag and kissed the top of Emmy’s head, jogging to the door I left the house before she could change her mind. “I’ll see you when you get home.”

I heard them both say goodbye as I closed the door behind me and made my way over to where John B and JJ were standing clearing branches off the HMS Pogue.

“Mornin’ boys.” I greeted the pair as I helped them finish clearing off the boat.

“Someone's in a good mood.” John B suggested as he made his way over to the side of the boat I was standing by. “You and JJ have fun?” He asked in a quieter voice.

“Nope, he completely blew me off. I don’t even think he remembered.” I replied, biting the inside of my cheek trying to not show my disappointment. “But it’s fine, today is a free day and we are going to enjoy it.” I said putting a smile back on my face as I looked over to where JJ stood oblivious to mine and John B’s conversation.

🔅🔆🔅

“Well, look who we have here.” JJ taunted as we pulled up to the Heyward’s dock.

“We have a safety meeting. Attendance mandatory.” John B added pretending to speak into a walkie talkie.

“I can’t. My Pop’s got me on lockdown.” Pope replied sadly.

“Come on, man” JJ grumbled from his spot beside me. “Your dad’s a pussy. Over.” he commented speaking into his own pretend walkie talkie. I turned to look at him surprised as I hit his arm lightly. “What? He is?” JJ tried to defend.

“Oh, I heard that, you little bastard.” Heyward scolded JJ.

“We need your son.” I said as I directed my attention to Heyward. “Island rules. Day after a hurricane’s a free day.”

“Who made that up?” Heyward demanded moving closer to the boat.

“Uh… Pentagon, I think. We have security clearance.” I added, trying to come up with excuses.

“Yeah, I have a card.” JJ tried to add to my story.

“You think I’m stupid?” Heyward challenged.

“I'll do it tomorrow. I promise. Tomorrow.” Pope told his dad, getting ready to get into the boat.

“You think... No, no. Hell no. You doin' it right now.” Heyward told Pope as he hopped into the boat. “Bring your ass back up here.”

“I promise I'll do it tomorrow, Dad.” Pope assured his father as we started to float away.

“We’ll bring him back in one piece.” I called back to Heyward as we started to speed off towards Kie’s dock.

🔅🔆🔅

After picking up Kie, Pope had taken over driving the boat and the rest of us were sitting around watching JJ attempt one of his many tricks that he had tried a million times but that never seemed to work the way he wanted it to.

“You’re getting beer in my hair!” Kie reprimanded JJ.

In an attempt to avoid the same fate as Kie I stood up from my spot beside her. But just as I got to my feet I felt the boat shift under me and jolt to the side throwing me off the edge. After a moment underwater I realized what had happened and swam back to the surface.

“Jesus, Pope!” I heard Kie berate Pope.

“You okay, JJ?” John B asked, I assumed he had also been sent overboard.

“I think my heels touched the back of my head.” I heard JJ reply from the other side of the boat.

“Kie, you okay?” John B asked, shifting his concern away from JJ.

“I’m all right.” Kie answered John B after a moment of pause. “Where’s Iz?”

“Over here.” I called from where I was treading water, a moment later I saw JJ swimming over to where I was. We made eye contact for a moment before he scanned that rest of my face with concern making sure I was good. I gave him a reassuring smile before looking back at our friends on the boat.

“Guys... I think there's a boat down there.” Pope said looking out from the ledge of the Pogue.

“Shut up. What?” Kie asked moving to look into the water. “No way.”

“No, no, guys. I'm serious. There's a boat down there.” Pope added confidently. “For real. “

“Holy shit, he's right. Let's go.” Kie said, getting ready to jump into the water.

We all dove down as deep as we could and sure enough a sunken boat was sitting below the surface.

“You guys saw that?” JJ asks as we all come up for air. A chorus of agreement followed JJ’s question as we looked at each other shocked. “That’s a Grady-White. A new one of those is like 500 Gs, easy. That’s a primo rig.”

“Yeah. That's the boat I saw when I surfed the surge.” John B informed us after we had all climbed back into the Pogue.

“You surfed the surge?” I asked, concern filling my thoughts.

“What the heck John B?” Kie added in the same tone.

“That's my boy. Pogue style.” JJ congratulated him, as John B nodded confirming what he had just said.

“Wait, wait. Do we know whose boat that is?” Pope asked curiously, wanting to know more about the wreck.

“No, but we're about to find out.” John B replied as he went to grab the anchor of the boat.

“Dude, it's too deep.” JJ warned as John B made his way over to the edge of the boat.

“Oh, for the weak and feeble, JJ.” John B challenged as he readjusted the anchor in his grip.

“Well, I'm not resuscitating you. I'm just making that clear up front.”

“That's fine.”

“Diver down, fool.” Pope said while giving John B a mock salute.

“Diver down.” We all called as JJ pushed John B off the side of the boat. We all leaned over the side of the boat anxiously waiting for John B to come back up.

“Should we go get him?” I asked the others in a concerned voice. It felt like he had been gone for ages at this point and I couldn't spot him in the murky water. Moments after I spoke John B broke the surface tension in a fit of coughs.

“Oh, my God. That took forever!” Kie said, relieved as we all allowed John B some space to climb onto the Pogue.

“I found this motel key.” John B supplied holding up the key while he got into the boat.

“Great! We salvaged a motel key.” JJ spoke sarcastically as I inspected the key that John B had found.

“Guys, we should report the wreck to the coast guard.” Kie suggested “Maybe we'll get a finder's fee.”

“Yeah, and not work all summer.” JJ added, hopefully as we speed off toward town. “Thanks, Agatha, ya batch.”

🔅🔆🔅

After an unsuccessful talk with the coast guard, as in we were completely ignored because they had no interest in what a group of teenagers had to say, we decided to head straight to the source and check out the motel.

The boat slowed down as we got closer to the motel and began to take in the scene before us. It was a disaster, mattresses thrown on the lawn, windows broken, and trees that had been uprooted or close to it. I had to wonder how much of this damage was caused by the hurricane and how much was caused by a neglectful owner.

“I thought the Château looked bad.” JJ commented from the front of the boat.

“This place is a shitshow.” John B added.

“Doesn't look like a place somebody with a Grady-White stays.” I said, confused as to why someone with such a nice boat would be staying somewhere so rundown.

“No. Looks like a place someone with a Grady-White would get killed.” Pope suggested.

“All right. Here we go.” JJ started jumping out of the boat ready to tie us to the shore. “This is your captain speaking. HMS Pogue comin' in for landing.”

“We good?” John B asked, standing beside me.

“Yeah, we good.” JJ confirmed.

“All right. Here goes nothin'.” I stated, while I tried to take the key from Pope’s hand, who had elected to stay on the boat with Kie as lookouts.

“Hey.” Pope said seriously, while he held the key just out of reach.

“Yeah?”

“Don't let them do anything stupid.”

“Yeah, I’ll try.” I gave Pope a reassuring smile as he passed me the key, still holding a look of uncertainty on his face.

“Uh, be careful.” I heard Kie tell John B from behind me. “I mean it.”

JJ offered me his hand as I jumped out of the boat but I just ignored it, still a little mad that he had forgotten about me the day before. I made eye contact with him for a moment and saw a look of confusion grace his features before disappearing. I began walking away from the boat as JJ waited a moment for John B to finish talking to Kie. I listened to them talking behind me.

“Just be so careful, John.” I heard JJ tease as I started making my way across the front lawn of the hotel.

“God, you're so weird.” John B replied.

“What was that about?”

“I don't know. Maybe she wants us to be careful?”

“Ever since she heard you're being threatened with exile, she's just been, like, <Oh! Be so careful, John B.>” JJ mimicked what Kie had told John B earlier as we started to climb the stairs to the second floor. “<Oh, just give me that John D already.> Just ask Iz she sees it too, right Iz?” JJ asked me.

I paused for a moment when I reached the top of the stairs, turning around to meet JJ’s eyes

“Are you done?” I asked in a sour tone.

“What?” He responded with confusion evident in his voice and the smile falling from his face. I rolled my eyes before turning around and beginning to count room numbers. “Why are you so mad at only me? What’d I do?”

“Dude.” I heard John B start saying. “You completely blew her off yesterday.”

I was curious what else they said to each other but their voices became muffled as I walked too far ahead. Stopping at the end of the hall in front of room twenty-nine. I turned to find the boys jogging towards me, John B gave me a small smile and JJ had a look that almost resembled remorse on his face.

“This is it?” John B asked as JJ took the key that I was holding up in front of me.

“Housekeeping.” JJ called out in a shrill voice knocking a few times on the door.

“Should we try it?” John B asked, pointing to the key in JJ’s hand.

“No power. No security cameras. No one's gonna know.” JJ reasoned as he pushed the key into the lock. It felt like we could still get in trouble if we were caught but before I could voice my concerns JJ was already half way into the room.

“Huh.” I muttered, as the two of us followed JJ in. It was dark and smelled of mildew, definitely not the kind of place someone would stay if they had the funds to buy a Grady-White.

“Check the bag. See if there's a name on there somewhere.” John B instructed JJ as I moved past the pair to open the blinds at the side of the room.

“A jacket.”

“No name on the jacket?”

“No. It's a nice jacket, though.”

“Definitely over 50. He's got New Balances.”

I listened to their conversation as I walked across the small room into the bathroom. As I moved through the bathroom and rustled through the medicine cabinet, I heard the beeping of a safe in the other room.

“Uh… JJ? Iz? You’re gonna want to see this” I heard John B call from the other room.

Entering the room I looked at John B first who was looking over to where JJ stood with wide eyes. Following John B’s line of sight my own eyes widened as I realized what JJ was holding.

“Is that a gun?” I asked as if it could be anything else.

“Put the gun back, JJ!” John B tried to reason with him.

“This is a fucking spendy gatt, man. Just…” JJ said, eyes wide like a kid in a candy store. “Bam! Bam!” He mimicked the sound of a gun as he pointed it around the room.

“JJ, we’re not stealing anything.” John B told him for the hundredth time.

“Just take a pic of me. Right here.” JJ pleaded with John B, but my attention had shifted to the sound of a rock landing on the window sill.

I pushed past the boys as they continued arguing with each other, and looked out the window.

“Cops. Cops!” I could see Kie and Pope whisper yell while they pointed in the direction of the door. Turning around quickly I waved at the boys to get their attention.

“Guys, the cops are here.” I told them in a hushed tone. John B moved towards the door to see if he could hear anything. “How are we gonna get out?” I asked them, feeling panic start to rise through my chest.

“Out the window?” John B suggested as he pushed open the small window as far as it would go.

With John B out first and standing to the right of the window, I followed quickly behind him moving to the left so that JJ could get out. In an attempt to keep us from being seen JJ pressed me against the wall of the motel, which meant that I was now pinned between him and the wall. My chest rose and fell unevenly as I squeezed my eyes shut hoping the cops couldn’t see us. As we we’re standing on the ledge I felt JJ’s hand grab on to mine and give it a reassuring squeeze.

“Listen Sweetheart, I’m sorry I ditched you yesterday. I didn’t mean to forget.” JJ whispered to me, his head was right next to my ear and I could feel his breath fan out against my skin as he spoke.

“As much as I appreciate your apology, I really don’t think this is the time JJ.” I whispered back terrified of every word that left my tongue.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right, sorry.” JJ replied, shifting his weight slightly.

“Guys! Shut. Up.” John B whisper yelled from where he stood on the ledge.

As we both turned to look at John B I felt cold metal touch my free hand, startling me I pulled my hand back swiftly and as I did I heard a clattering as something fell from the ledge.

“JJ, tell me that wasn’t what I think it was?” I demanded as quietly as I could.

“Well you tell me what you think it was and then I’ll tell you it wasn’t.” He said and I could hear the smirk in his voice, shocking me that he could still be joking when we were about to be caught at any moment, I rolled my eyes at him.

🔅🔆🔅

After our narrow escape from the motel, myself and the Pogues were headed towards town, discussing what we were going to do next.

“The cops took everything like it was a crime scene.” John B stated still sounding shocked at what he had seen back at the motel.

“Did you guys find anything?” Pope asked us curiously. My gaze shifted to JJ as I already knew what he had taken.

“Did we find anything? No, I don't think so. Oh, yeah, we did.” JJ responded smiling as he held up the gun, and to my surprise a wad of cash. I let my head fall into my hands wondering how JJ could be so dumb.

“What the hell?” Pope asked standing, panic written all over his features.

“Dude, chill.” JJ started walking over to where Pope stood. “Better than cops having it.”

“I'm gonna lose my merit scholarship.”

“Hey, hey, hey. Sh, sh, sh, sh, sh.” JJ said, grabbing Pope by the shoulders in an attempt to calm him down. “At least you have us, right?”

“I'm living the nightmare.”

🔅🔆🔅

After a trip to the marina and witnessing Scooter Grubbs get taken away by a coroner, we were back at the Château trying to figure out what to do next.

“Okay. So, um... we didn't see anything.” Pope spoke up as he paced in front of us all. “We don't know anything. We need to have total and complete amnesia.”

“Actually, Pope's right for once.” JJ stated, looking at us all. “See, I agree with you sometimes.” He assured Pope. “Deny, deny, deny.”

“Guys, we can't keep that money.” Kie piped into the conversation. “We have to pass that off to Lana Grubbs. Otherwise, it's bad karma.”

“Bad karma to be implicated in a felony, too.” I added referring to the gun JJ was still in possession of.

“We gotta go dark.” Pope suggested.

“None of it makes sense.” John B finally said, breaking his silence. “This is Scooter Grubbs we're talking about. Same dude that's buying individual cigarettes at the Porthole. Shit, one time I saw this dude begging for change in the Save-A-Lot parking lot because he needed gas. We're talking about a dirtbag marina rat who's never had more than 40 bucks in his pocket, and all of a sudden, he's got a Grady-White? Just sayin'.”

“So how does a marina rat get a Grady-White?” I asked, thinking out loud.

“Prostitution.” Pope suggested making me laugh under my breath.

“Okay...” John B stated, trying to move past Pope's comment. “Or maybe they're trying to fly under the radar, no aerial surveillance. They don't do that stuff during a hurricane. What does that mean? JJ?”

“They were straight smugglin'.” JJ finished John B’s thought.

“Smugglin'.” John B confirmed. “And I guarantee there's a serious amount of contraband in that wreck.”

“For the record, if that is a smuggling ship with illegal contraband on the inside of it…” Pope said and I could tell he was thinking about all the terrible outcomes. “...it probably belongs to someone else.”

“Minor details.”

“They could come looking for it.” Pope warned. “Taking it would be catastrophically stupid.”

“Right. Well, stupid things have good outcomes all the time.” JJ reasoned holding up the money that he had now decided belonged to us. “All we need to do is figure out a way to get into the cargo hold of that wreck.”

“Until then, we just lay low. Just act normal.” John B added.

“Right. And how exactly do we do that?” I asked. I still felt like Pope was making a lot of good points that the others were not listening to.

“Kegger?” Kie suggested looking at the rest of us for confirmation.

🔅🔆🔅

You can't understand the Outer Banks without understanding the boneyard. It's kinda like a three-layer burrito. There's us and our friends, the working-class derelicts. Then, there are the Kooks, the rich second-homers. They're mostly from poncey-ass boarding schools, just rich trustafarian posers. Our natural enemies. And then, there are the Tourons. Totally clueless. Here for a week on vacation with their families. Chum for the sharks.

Later in the day after the sun had set, the kegger was coming to life, basically the entirety of the island's teen population was in attendance and the beach was getting pretty crowded. Earlier on I had been hanging around with JJ, all had been forgiven between us and we were back to cracking jokes.

Up until JJ spotted a girl he wanted to flirt with and I was left alone. Since then I had started chatting with a couple of Tourons who had taken one surfing lesson earlier in the week and now thought they knew everything about the sport. Desperate to make my escape I searched through the crowd for my friends. Just as I was about to make up an excuse I heard shouting from the water.

“Sorry, I have to go.” I told the pair lamely. “I think that’s my friends calling me.”

“Okay. Bye.” They replied as I walked away.

Much to my horror, once I had reached the shore it turned out to actually be my friends shouting, and the shouting had turned into a full out fight. I recognized John B in the water but the Kook he was fighting had their back facing me. I pushed my way through the crowd once I spotted Kie and made my way to stand beside her.

“What the hell is going on?” I asked, looking at her face which was covered in fear.

“Topper and John B started arguing and now they're trying to kill each other.” Kie answered, watching as the fight got worse. That’s when I noticed the Kook Princess, Sarah Cameron, trying to calm down her angry boyfriend.

I used to know Topper when I was young. We had been friends but when I had moved to the Cut we lost touch. Now as he stood over John B I barely recognized him. He wasn’t the young boy I had once known, now he was a cruel person who thought he was better than others just because his parents had money.

“Hey, John B, don't make me drown you like your old man, all right?” I heard Topper challenge John B.

After that comment I had had enough and I was desperately looking around the crowd trying to figure out what I could do to stop them. I felt useless as I definitely couldn’t just jump in there, I had no idea how to fight. But we had to do something before Topper killed John B.

As my eyes scanned the crowd I noticed JJ who was already looking at me. His once bright eyes looked dark and it seemed like he knew exactly what he was about to do. I shook my head as I tried to make my way over to him, but he was already stalking towards where Topper and John B fought. I had a feeling I knew what he was about to do but I didn’t want to believe it.

I held my breath as I heard the crowd go silent when JJ clicked the gun's safety off.

“Yeah, you know what that is.” JJ threatened as Topper pulled away from John B. “Your move, broski.”

“Come on. Chill, dude!” Topper responded, trying to reason with him.

“Put the gun down.” Sarah cried desperately.

“Did you say somethin', Princess?” JJ asked, not taking his eyes off of Topper.

“We're good. We're good.” Topper tried to tell him, raising his hands in surrender.

“Kie! Iz! Can you check your psycho friend, please?” I heard Sarah screaming behind me pulling me out of the trance I had been frozen in. I took a few steps closer to JJ but I didn’t want to get too close when he had a gun pointed at someone. I had seen him get in fights before but never like this, this was different. I really thought that he might kill Topper and that terrified me.

“JJ.” I spoke softly so as to not startle him. He turned to glance back at me but kept the gun pointed at Topper who was looking back at us. “Think about what you’re doing.” I continued speaking calmly, meanwhile I could hear Sarah practically sobbing behind me. “You have to let him go.” I said, at this JJ nodded ever so slightly before pulling the gun away from Topper.

“Okay, everyone, listen up! Get the hell off our side of the island!” JJ yelled into the crowd of people before shooting the gun into the air.

The second JJ moved Topper was out of sight and Sarah wasn’t far behind. While Kie and Pope began to berate JJ over his actions I ran into the water to go check on John B.

“Hey, are you okay?” I asked John B once I reached him, holding his shoulders so he wouldn’t fall back into the water. He mumbled back something incoherent as he swayed in my grasp. “Guys! Can you help?” I asked the three Pogues who still stood arguing behind me.

With their help we got John B out of the water and closer to the fire that had been started a while ago. We all sat silently there for sometime before John B was able to get up again and we all headed home.

🔅🔆🔅

After a sleepless night, we were all back together at the Château, I sat next to Kie as she lazily hit a pair of bongos that sat on the table between us and Pope. JJ was further away in the yard throwing god knows what into the grass. I stood up as I saw John B make his way over to us. Meeting him halfway between the main house and where the rest of our friends were I pulled him into a bone crushing hug.

“What was that for?” He asked, chuckling while he looked at me.

“I’m just glad to see you’re okay. I can’t lose you, any of you guys.” I explained making myself think back to last night.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily.” He joked trying to lighten the mood.

“Yeah, I know.” I said the smile returning to my face. “Hey, by the way I saw the cop car driving away this morning, is everything okay?”

“Eh, it’s alright Peterkin stopped by, told me to stay out of trouble and to clean up the house.” John B explained as we made our way over to the others. “Look, I'm callin' it off. All right?” John B announced to everyone. “Peterkin said, if I stay out of the marsh, she'll help me with DCS.”

“And you believed her?” JJ questioned.

“Yes, I believe her, JJ.”

“An actual cop, John B. You believed a cop.” He added, trying to make his point.

“All I gotta do is stay out of the marsh for a couple days, and she'll help me out. It doesn't help that your ass was the one shooting a gun.”

“You know what I should have done? Just let Topper drown your ass.”

“Topper was gonna drown me?”

“Sure looked like it.”

“Alright, calm down.” I spoke up trying to get them to stop.

“Come on. They always win, don't they, man? Kooks versus Pogues. They always, always win!” JJ started to raise his voice.

“Look, it's okay!” Kie reasoned, also trying to help me calm them down.

“No, it's not okay!” JJ argued, turning his attention to John B. “It is not! They don't want us to go down into the marsh. That means there's something valuable down there, and you know it. I know you do. And I understand why you don't wanna go. You're the golden boy. You got way too much to risk.” JJ added pointing a finger at Pope. “ And you...I mean, you're already rich as fuck anyway. Why would you bother?” He asked Kie. “But us three.” He finished looking at John B and I. “We got nothin' to lose!”

“I don't want to talk about this.” John B told JJ as he began to walk away.

“So that's it?” JJ asked and I could tell he was losing hope in John B.

“Just get out of my way, bro.”

“John B, listen to me. I have a plan.”

JJ telling us he had a plan? That was never a good start.

🔅🔆🔅

We all gathered around Kie who was inspecting the tanks that John B had stolen from the Cameron's. JJ had tried to argue that we were going to return them so technically we were just borrowing them but I didn’t think the Cameron's would see it that way or the cops they would inevitably call if they found out.

“This is empty. You took empty tanks? I…” Kie told John B sounding defeated. “Okay, this one's a quarter full. It's enough for one of us. Love it when a plan comes together. Does anybody know how to dive?”

“It's kind of a Kook sport.” JJ replied.

“I... read about it.” Pope responded cautiously.

“Great, Pope read about it, so someone's gonna die.” Kie reasoned.

“Look, y-you put the thing in your mouth and breathe. How hard could it be?” JJ asked.

“If you come up too fast, nitrogen gets into your blood, and you get the bends.” Pope told him.

“Bends like, bend over and…” JJ asked, making me roll my eyes at him.

“The bends kill you.” Pope said seriously and JJ straightened up.

“I can do it.” I finally said standing up at the front of the boat. “I went diving a few times with my dad when I was younger.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” JJ stated, a look of worry crossing his features.

“I’ll be fine, it’s like riding a bike, you don’t forget.” I reasoned. “Right?”

“Let me do some calculations real quick.” Pope said while he looked through his bag for a notebook.

“Are you serious? You’re gonna do some calculations right now?” John B teased Pope with a smile on his face.

“Hey, let the man do his calculations, alright?” JJ told John B before glancing over at me again.

“That boat's about 30 feet down. Okay.” Pope stated, thinking out loud. “So it'll take 25 minutes at that depth.”

“Twenty-five.” I confirmed half listening to him half focusing on keeping my hands from shaking, suffice to say I was a little nervous.

“Which means you need to make your safety stop at about... ten feet. All right? For two minutes.”

“Okay, ten feet, two minutes.” I confirmed, attempting to remember everything he was telling me.

Kie suddenly stood up from her spot and jumped off the side of the boat, disappearing into the dark water.

“What was that all about?” Pope asked, distracted.

“I don't know, but I liked it. A lot.” JJ commented.

“Anything else I need to know?” I asked, looking at the boys who were all very clearly still thinking about what Kie had just done.

“All right. Yeah. Uh, when you... uh, when you're down there, you look for the cargo hold.” John B stated remembering where he was.

“You stick this thing inside and twist and pull, okay?” JJ told me, holding up a key and miming it in the air.

“Yeah I think I know how a lock works JJ.” I told him sarcastically, as I took the key from his grasp.

“Hey! I tied my T-shirt to the anchor chain about ten feet down.” Kie said finally emerging from the water. “It's where you need to do your safety stop.”

“Okay, thanks.” I responded giving her a smile before pulling the heavy tank onto my back. I could barely pull the straps tight because of how much my hands were shaking. Seeing me struggle, JJ made his way over to me and finished strapping me in. Giving a thumbs up as he took a step back.

“Keep an eye on this.” Pope said, pointing to the console attached to the tank before handing it to me. “You need to make sure you have enough air to decompress.”

“Okay, how much do I need?” I asked.

“Unclear.” He answered truthfully after a brief pause. “Breathe as little as possible.”

“Zen. Think Zen, you know?” JJ commented trying to get me to relax. He took my hand in his while I looked around at everyone.

“Yeah. Got it.” I responded, moving closer to the edge of the boat.

“Hey, if we get caught in the marsh, we're basically screwed, so... better get a move on.” Pope said. I knew he was just trying to be helpful but it did not help me feel very Zen.

I was about to pull down my mask from where it was sitting on top of my head when I realized JJ still had a tight grip on my hand.

“I’m gonna need this.” I told him, holding up our interlocked hands.

“Oh, yeah, sorry about that.” He said, awkwardly letting go of my hand and rubbing the back of his neck. “Be careful, yeah?”

“I’ll be fine.” I responded, but I wasn’t sure if I was trying to convince him of myself. “Diver down?”

“Diver down.” My friends all confirmed as I pulled the mask down over my face before jumping into the water.

🔅🔆🔅

A couple of minutes after Iz had dove off the edge of the Pogue, the rest of the group sat waiting anxiously in silence for their friend to return. Well everyone but JJ who was currently pacing back and forth across the floor of the small boat, seemingly mumbling something under his breath about how Iz would be fine. The other Pogues watched, baffled as to how he could do things like this and yet still not realize how he truly felt about the girl who had just dove into the water.

JJ and the rest of the Pogues were pulled out of their thoughts by the sound of sirens and the flashing lights of a police boat.

“Shit.” Kie said, alerting everyone that the cops were pulling up next to them.

“Guys, that's the police.” Pope said, the panic in his voice rising with each word.

“Oh, you gotta be kidding me.” John B said standing up.

“Yep, that's the police. Just act frickin' normal.” JJ confirmed what they were all seeing, meanwhile acting the least natural the Pogues had ever seen him. JJ never panicked. “Evening, officers.”

“How you kids doing?” Deputy Shoupe asked the group, passing a rope over to connect the boats. “You know the marsh is closed?”

“No. No. Wow. I didn't know that. Why... Why is it closed?” Pope asked, trying to look calm.

“Well, we're conducting a search out here. Boat went down. Seen anything?”

“No. No boats. No.” John B responded.

“Where's your other friend you always hang out with? Who’s that, Bailer’s kid, uh, Isabella? She here?” Shoupe asked.

“She's working.” Kie lied.

“Hm.” Shoupe hummed, not entirely convinced. “I'm gonna check your little boat out.”

“Yeah, hop aboard.” John B said, waving a hand. “You wanna check... uh, check her out.”

Meanwhile below the surface Iz had found what she was looking for and began unlocking the hold.

After Shoupe had inspected their life jackets, he made his way to the front of the boat, putting his sunglasses on and looking out onto the water. From the back of the boat JJ also scanned the water, he thought that he saw something move beneath the surface and prayed that Shoupe hadn’t seen the same thing.

🔅🔆🔅

After getting into the hold I found a small bag and took it with me as I swam towards the anchor of the boat so I could make my safety stop before heading back up.

From my spot ten feet below the surface I looked up, noticing the shadow of a new boat and someone looking into the water. I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment as if that would help me keep from getting caught before opening them and looking at the console in my left hand. There was less than thirty seconds of air left and I was panicking even more than before.

Just in time the figure left and moments later the second boat disappeared. With my last breath of air I swam to the surface pulling off my mask as I took a huge breath of fresh air.

“There she is!” JJ pointed at me letting out a sigh of relief. “Don’t scare us like that!”

“How'd it go down there?” John B asked as I made my way to the ladder on the back of the boat.

“Did you find anything?” Pope asked, pulling me up.

“Did I find anything?” I answered the question by holding up the small duffle bag that I had found in the hold.

“Yeah, there we go! That's my girl!” JJ hollered scooping me up into a hug as John B took the bag from me.

“Jeez.” I laughed as JJ let go of me again and Kie made her way to my side.

“You okay?” She asked, a look of concern painting over her usual happy expression.

“Yeah, I ran out of air.” I said trying not to worry her but realizing my words did the opposite of that.

“You scared the shit out of me.” JJ said, snaking an arm around my waist. I knew he just thought of me as a friend but his actions still gave me butterflies, it was nice to know he cared.

“Yeah, the cops were up here, but, uh... we took care of 'em.” Pope informed me.

“Hey, guys? Guys, bogey, two o'clock.” Kie said, pulling us from our previous conversation.

“Do you recognize that boat?” Pope asked.

“I've never seen it.”

“What are they doing here? The marsh is closed.” John B asked and I couldn’t help but smile at the irony of his words, after all we knew better than to be there and yet here we were.

“Let's not stick around and find out.” JJ stated, moving to the front of the boat.

“Should we wait on 'em?” Pope asked.

“Are you joking?” I asked, helping start the boat up. “JJ, hurry up.”

“Guys, don't wait for me. Go.” JJ told us as he pulled the anchor up as fast as he could.

“Go right.” I suggested to John B who was standing behind the wheel, thinking if we went further into the marsh they might not follow us.

“Let's go!” Kie rushed as the boat turned behind us. “Hey, guys, they're following us.”

“This can't be good.” I said as JJ moved to stand beside me.

“Dude, you gotta go faster!” JJ urged John B as the boat began to gain on us.

“I'm going!” He said while trying to maneuver the marsh that was filled with thick weeds.

Looking back I noticed that one of the men had leant down and was now standing back up holding something I could quite make out.

“Uh, guys what is that?” I asked as everyone but John B looked back.

“What the…” Pope started but the rest of his question died out at the sound of a gunshot.

As everyone one dropped down to the floor of the boat I felt as if I had been pushed, there was a heavy weight on my chest.

“Holy shit!” I heard Kie mutter as I opened my eyes realizing that JJ was on top of me. This was now the second time in the past two days that I had been pinned between JJ and another surface. Had it been under different circumstances I might have been able to enjoy it.

“John B, get down!” I heard JJ yell as I felt the vibrations of his voice echo through my own chest.

“We're gonna die!” I heard Pope say hopelessly from beside me.

“Shit! Pope, move.” Kie muttered, I couldn’t see much but I thought I saw Kie walking to the back of the boat carrying something.

“Get down, Kie!” John B yelled as the man in the other boat continued to shoot at us.

Then the shooting stopped as the sound of the other boat died out.

“Oh my god.” Pope sighed, sounding very relieved as everyone started to get back up except for JJ.

“JJ?” I asked, looking up at him. His face turned towards me, inches away from mine as he hovered over me.

“Yeah?” He asked, sounding completely oblivious.

“You gonna let me get up?” I asked, smiling.

“Oh, yeah, sorry about that Sweetheart.” He said standing before he offered me his hand. A look flashed across his face that I couldn’t quite recognize, if I didn’t know better I would think it was disappointment?

🔅🔆🔅

After arriving back at the Château we all gathered on the dock. To take a look at what I had found in the hold of the Grady-White.

“What do you think it is?” Kie asked us.

“Gotta be money, right?” John B responded with another question.

“That or a couple of keys with street value from the low-to-mid-mils!” JJ added.

“Can we please just open the bag?” Pope let out looking impatient.

“Wow, Pope. That's a rare outburst of emotion.” John B teased as he stretched out the wait even longer.

“Okay. You guys are literally killing me with anticipation.” I said in the same boat as Pope, urging them to hurry up.

“Alright Sweetheart, calm down.” JJ said from beside me putting a hand on my arm to calm me down.

“We almost died over this.” Pope added to our argument to open the bag faster.

John B opened the bag pulling out a metal canister. After opening that too he let the contents spill out onto his hand. Disappointment rose up as we looked to see that all it was was an old compass. While taking a second look I thought that I recognized it from somewhere but wasn’t sure.

“Oh, wow. Yup. That's about right.” Pope stated, standing from his crouched position. “Good job, everybody. We found a compass.”

“Dude, what? It's not worth anything.” JJ told John B who was staring at the compass in awe.

“This was my father's.” Were the only words that left John B’s lips.

🔅🔆🔅

After the disappointment of not finding much of anything after we all risked our lives we all headed home. Entering my house the sun was setting outside and it seemed empty. But my Mom’s car was parked just off the road and I could hear faint talking coming from the back of the house. I walked through the living room and kitchen, past the stairs that led to the loft which was my Mom’s room. Past my own room and the bathroom before coming to a stop in front of my little sister’s door. Leaning against the door frame, I saw my Mom reading Emmy a book by candle light, I assumed that the power was still out.

Walking back to the main room I started to make myself a sandwich, realizing that I hadn’t eaten much of anything all day. Just as I was about to take the first bite. I heard Emmy’s door close and my Mom entered the room, holding a candle in her hand.

“Hey, Honey.” She greeted me as she set down the candle. “How was your day?”

“Good.” I responded in between bites of the sandwich I had made. “Pretty uneventful.”

“Really?” She asked, almost surprised. “I saw Shoupe on my way out of town and he said that he saw your friends out on the marsh when they were doing their search for Scooter’s boat. He also said that you weren't there. Your friends told him something about you working, but I didn’t know you were working at all for a few days.”

“Oh really?” I said trying to figure out how to cover the real story up. “Um, Mr. Cameron came down and asked if I could pick up another shift. I guess his kids have been spending a lot of time inside since the storm so it was a bit of a mess over there.”

“He drove all the way down here?”

“Yeah well since the phone lines are down he couldn’t call.”

“Huh, it seems strange he would come all the way down when he could just wait a couple more days for us to come over.”

“Yeah well it was really bad. I would have taken pictures if my phone wasn’t dead.”

“Oh no I don’t need pictures, I’ve met those kids and cleaned that house, I believe that they could make a terrible mess.” She said seemingly believing everything I was telling her, she paused for a moment before asking another question. “You don’t know why your friends were in the marsh do you?”

“Well” I started, thinking about what I could say that would get us all off the hook. “They were actually waiting to pick me up. Yeah. Cause I went up to Figure Eight with Mr. Cameron but I didn’t want to make him drive me all the way home. So they hung out in the marsh I guess while they waited.”

“How’d you call them?” Mom asked, picking apart my story.

“Walkie Talkies.” I blurted out. “You know the ones that Heyward got Pope and I a few years ago? And that must have been why they were in the marsh even though it was closed. You know cause the walkie talkies only work for a certain radius, and the Cameron house is probably too far from here.”

“Yeah I guess so.” She said moving towards me to grab my now empty plate.

“Thanks.” I said, as she put my plate in the sink. “I think I’m gonna head back over to John B’s if that's okay.”

“Of course just don’t forget to sleep at some point. You do still require sleep.” She told me.

“I know, I’ll see you later.”

“Love you!” I heard her call after me as I closed the door and made the short walk over to John B’s where I saw him and JJ lounging on the porch.

🔅🔆🔅

#outerbanks #outer banks #jj maybank #jj obx #obx #jj x oc #jj maybank x oc #jj x reader #jj maybank x reader

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sonicgetsrawed · 4 years

Note

Prompt: (?) Varian and Hugo go on an adventure, but in the end one of their crushes gets found out

Ok so my thought on this was 2am ice cream run lol!! So have some high school boys being awkward as fuck! With just a sprinkling of bad dad! Enjoy!!!!!

Hugo drummed his fingers against the steering wheel of the car, idly scrolling through his phone as he waited for Varian. He should’ve known the younger wouldn’t be ready in time, whenever he said ten minutes it usually meant thirty. Although he couldn’t really blame him, they were sneaking out at two in the morning and Varian’s dad was extremely protective. It had become a tradition of sorts, ever since Hugo got his license he’d pick up Varian and they’d go on some kind of nighttime adventure. They usually ended up at the nearby park, talking under the stars until the sun started to rise. He would never regret finally swallowing his pride and asking for Varian’s help fixing up his truck, he was easily his best friend now, but he’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t want more. They had a rough start but after the hours spent together working on his car, which Hugo still didn’t know why Varian agreed to help, they grew closer, and he wanted to grow closer still. He thought it was just a crush at first, his adoptive mom, Donella, told him it was, but the more he denied his feelings the stronger they grew. Logically he knew the relationship probably wouldn’t last, he was only sixteen after all, that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try.

His eyes darted to the two tickets to the homecoming dance that stuck out ever so slightly from the sun visor. Dances weren’t really his thing, he just knew that Varian really wanted to go, so he could sacrifice a night for Varian’s happiness. And tonight was the night he was going to ask. His stomach doing a flip at just the thought, his cheeks heating up. He jumped as the passenger side door opened, dropping his phone.

“Shit.” Hugo grumbled, reaching down and fumbling around for his phone, smiling in success when he found it.

“Sorry.” Varian said, slinging his backpack into the backseat as he climbed in, the dark circles under his eyes evident even in the dim lighting.

Hugo frowned at that, whenever Varian brought his bag it wasn’t a good sign. He didn’t know much about Varian’s home life, but he did know his dad could be intense. He didn’t think he ever hit Varian, although he had heard their screaming matches from time to time, and there were the odd times that he’d kick Varian out of the house for days on end. It was a strange relationship Varian had with his dad, he either didn’t let him out of his sight or was putting Varian down, there was no in between. Hugo watched as Varian closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the headrest. He looked absolutely exhausted, his dark lashes resting against his cheeks as his chest rose and fell softly. He almost looked like he was sleeping if it wasn’t for the way his eyebrows were furrowed together, a frown on his face. Hugo gently brushed Varian’s bangs from his face, the younger’s eyes opening, his blue eyes blinking up at Hugo. Hugo quickly pulled his hand away, his cheeks reddening again.

“So, where do you want to go?” Hugo asked, his eyes on the road in front of them, even though he had yet to move, hell he hadn’t even turned on the car. He didn’t ask about the bag, he didn’t ask if he needed a place to stay, it was just something that they didn’t talk about, and he absolutely would not ask if he was okay. If Varian wanted to talk about it he would, and Varian extended him the same courtesy, he never talked about his biological family.

“I don’t know.” Varian said, nibbling at his bottom lip as he glanced back at his house, a light flickering off in one of the windows. Varian squeezed his eyes shut again for a second as he let out a sigh. “I could really go for some ice cream.”

Hugo resisted the urge to brush Varian’s hair out of his face again, Varian glancing over at him, his eyes shining with unshed tears. Instead Hugo nodded, turning on the car. “Ice cream sounds amazing.”

It didn’t take them long to find a place for ice cream and soon enough they were sitting in the bed of the truck ice cream in hand. Hugo shot a quick text to Donella letting her know where he was. He was lucky she gave him enough freedom to come and go as he pleased as long as she knew where he was. It was nice, but sometimes he wished she cared a little more, he rarely ever got a reply from her. He tucked his phone away in his pocket, licking his ice cream cone before it could get on his hands. “I thought you’d want to go to the park.” Hugo said around a mouthful of ice cream.

“I guess not.” Varian said with a shrug, stabbing at his sundae with his spoon rather aggressively, paying no mind to the melted ice cream that leaked onto his hands. “I needed a different adventure. Change of scenery, you know?”

“I still wouldn’t call ice cream an adventure.” Hugo said with a laugh.

“Then you’re missing out.” Varian responded, using his spoon to point at Hugo, the ice cream splattering across Hugo’s face.

“Hey!” Hugo shouted, wiping the ice cream away, Varian laughing all the while. Hugo couldn’t help but smile himself.

“I’m sorry! I really didn’t mean for that to happen.” Varian chuckled, holding his stomach as he continued to laugh, his ice cream now abandoned.

Hugo hummed, cleaning his glasses with his shirt, his cone balancing precariously on the vehicle. “And I didn’t mean to do this.” Hugo lunged, his fingers digging into Varian’s sides. It got the desired effect, Varian laughing even harder as he rolled back, trying to fight off Hugo’s hands.

“Please… Hugh… I’m sorry.” Varian breathed out between laughs, tears streaming down his face as Hugo continued his attack.

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” Hugo teased, smiling down at Varian, practically on top of the other boy, his fingers finally slowing to a stop. His hands still lingered on Varian’s sides, watching as Varian’s laughter died down and he wiped the tears from his eyes, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he caught his breath.

Varian awkwardly cleared his throat, his cheeks reddening as he took note of their position. “Umm, could you- uh, you know?”

“Oh, sorry.” Hugo said, his own face flushing as he became hyper aware of their position. He scrambled off of Varian, swinging his legs back over the end of the truck already missing the warmth Varian provided. He focused on his ice cream cone, ruined on the ground, instead of the way he so badly wanted to keep Varian pinned there, kissing his soft lips, the taste of ice cream still lingering on them.

“Thank you.” Varian said, shimmying to the edge of the truck as well, his mostly melted sundae in hand.

“What?” Hugo asked, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he glanced up at Varian. He almost wished he hadn’t, the younger looking up at him through his eyelashes, the street light hitting him just right to make it look like the blue in his hair was glowing, he was almost otherworldly looking in the best way.

“I just- thank you. For always being here for me, for being so understanding. Just for being a good friend, I guess.” Varian said, returning his attention to swirling the melted ice cream with his spoon. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but he swore there was a blush coating Varian’s cheeks. It was probably just wishful thinking on his part.

Hugo nodded, ignoring the slight sting of being called a friend. “Uh, you too. With the whole friend thing.” Hugo said, lightly punching Varian’s shoulder in what he hoped was a friendly manner. Hugo cringed at his own action, why did he have to be so damn awkward when he was trying so hard not to be awkward? Varian must’ve thought it was odd, the car shifting with his movements.

“Umm-“

“I got you something.” Hugo interrupted, deciding it was now or never. If he thought about it too much he’d back out.

“You did?” Varian asked, finally giving up on his ice cream and setting it to the side, his eyes twinkling at Hugo’s words.

“Yeah, uh, just wait here for a second.” Hugo said, leaping off the back of the truck, his hands sweating as he grabbed the tickets. He took a deep breath, trying desperately to calm his beating heart to no avail. This was it he was going to ask Varian to the dance. Their relationship would never be the same regardless of what Varian said, things would be different, there would be no going back. There would be no going back. Hugo slowly lowered the tickets, his face dropping as he realized he couldn’t go through with it, he couldn’t risk losing Varian forever. He stuffed the tickets into his jacket pocket with a sigh of defeat, plastering the fakest smile on his face as he made his way back around. “You know, silly me, I must’ve forgotten it at the house.”

“That’s okay.” Varian said, a brief flash of disappointment flashing across his face before he hopped off the bed of the truck and threw his ice cream out. “Drop me off at Rapunzel’s?”

“Sure.” Hugo responded simply, settling behind the wheel as Varian got into the passenger's seat. It wasn’t the first time he’d dropped Varian off at his cousins house. Apparently her and her fiancé knew the extent of Varian’s home situation and wanted to get custody. Varian, however, refused to leave his dad. And that’s about the extent Hugo knew. He wished he knew more so he could help, but he also respected Varian enough not to push for information. He wanted to help, he just didn’t know how.

“You could stay at my place.” Hugo blurted out, the words ringing in the silence of the vehicle. He could feel his cheeks beating up once again, the longer the silence went on the redder they became. He didn’t dare look in Varian’s direction.

“Wha-“

“Never mind! To Rapunzel’s then?” Hugo replied hurriedly, starting the car and driving down the familiar road to Rapunzel’s house before Varian even gave a slight nod. Silence filled the car once again, it always did on nights like this. Hugo hated nights like this when Varian looked so down on himself, when he wasn’t his chatty self, when he was sad. He wanted to take all that away even if just for a moment, but he was too scared to do anything, to pull Varian into his arms and hold him tight, to stroke his hair and whisper soothing words, to place a reassuring kiss to his lips as they talked about everything and anything. He was too scared and it fucking sucked.

“Thanks for driving me.” Varian’s voice brought him back to reality, the car stopped in front of the modest home, the white picket fence blinding even in the middle of the night.

“No problem.” Hugo said, shaking his head in hopes of clearing it from the last of those pesky thoughts. Varian shot him an odd look but otherwise didn’t say anything on his behavior, before getting out of the car, Hugo followed suit. He grabbed Varian’s backpack from the backseat, slinging it over his shoulder as he jogged around the car to meet Varian. “I’m serious, Goggles, if you ever want,” need, but he didn’t dare say the word, Varian would outright deny him if he did. “To stay at my place Don won’t mind. I- we’d love to have you.”

Varian smiled softly, the soft yellow light flickering on in the house behind him making his eyes sparkle. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.” Varian said, taking his bag from Hugo, nether noticing the two tickets that fell from Hugo’s jacket.

Hugo’s hand lingered perhaps a moment too long over Varian’s as he handed over the bag, but the younger didn’t say anything in protest. “Goodnight.” Hugo said, daring to place a soft kiss to Varian’s cheek, his own cheeks heating up as he did, his lips tingling from where they had connected with Varian’s soft skin. He didn’t wait for a response, a wide smile on his face as he got back into his car and drove away, sparing a glance at the rear view mirror to see Varian place a hand over his cheek, a soft lopsided smile on his face.

“Goodnight.” Varian whispered, his heart skipping a beat in his chest, his cheek unusually cold now that Hugo’s lips weren’t there. He let his hand drop as he watched the car disappear around the corner, an odd sensation filling him. He’d never really given much thought to his relationship with Hugo outside of friendship, but now he knew he really should. Hugo had always been there for him, willingly dropping things on a dime to come to his aid, he was smart and funny, and charming, and despite his snarky and stubborn attitude he put others first. The more he thought about it the more he was starting to realize he might actually have feelings for his best friend, and for some reason that thought was more comforting than scary. Varian smiled to himself, shooting Hugo a quick goodnight text for good measure before turning towards the house, something crinkling underneath his shoe. He bent down, eyebrows furrowed as he picked up the wrinkled slips of paper. His lips quickly turned to a smile when he realized what it was, two tickets to the homecoming dance.

Varian brought them close to his chest, a giddy laugh bubbling up as he smiled into the night sky. Things were looking up for once in his life. He couldn’t wait to spend homecoming with Hugo. He could have Rapunzel help him pick out an outfit, maybe even convince his dad to let him stay at her house for the weekend. One thing he knew for certain was that he now needed to ask Hugo, and he was okay with that.

#tangled the series #varian #varigo #hugo #varian and the seven kingdoms #varian/hugo

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tastefullynefarious · 5 years

Text

Torment never looked so goddamn fine

Chapter 2 / 10 - Billy Idol - Rebel Yell

Sooooo, i was very disappointed that most of the songs in Billy inspired playlists are post 85, so I’m adding one per chapter, a little song that could have actually plaid in the background as the story unfolds.

Word count: 4,134

Warnings: 18+, I have no shame!, Should have proof read this one more time, shameless smut in case I wasn’t clear

Last night a little dancer came dancin' to my door

Last night a little angel came pumping on the floor

She said, come on baby, I got a license for love

And if it expires, pray help from above

Because

In the midnight hour she cried, more, more, more

With a rebel yell she cried, more, more, more

In the midnight hour, babe, more, more, more

With a rebel yell, more, more, more

More, more, more

There was lots of shouting. Screaming actually, long pain-filled howls mixed with curses in a language she didn't yet fully understand. The scalpel was small, but she didn't need much to make them crumble beneath her power. She barely needed anything at all, the minuscule knife and the drawn blood were nothing more than visual aids. That was the beauty of the human brain, you could trick it into believing anything if determined enough, people did it to themselves often without even realizing. But she, oh she could do so much more.

Pain was a funny thing. It lifted some up, made them fight harder, while completely shattering the spirits of others. It was fuel, and its consequences were up to the mentality of whoever it was inflicted upon. But no matter who you were and how strong you thought yourself, there was a threshold, a limit of suffering the brain could handle before it sent signals to the heart to stop. And she could play with that limit as she saw fit, like a dial to turn up and down, making the smallest of cuts feel like the insides were being torn open or a bullet wound like a mere pinch. She could bring the prisoners from the depths of hell to the sweet bliss of nothingness with just her mind and they would spill all their secrets in broken shouts, in that rigid language, needless blood on her hands. And she would hear them long after she was sent back to her little square room and she would see their faces when she closed her eyes.

Sandy woke up in the midnight hour, cold sweat covering her entire body, the screams still rang in her ears. It took her several minutes to distinguish reality from dream, her body shaking uncontrollably. She was not in that room anymore, and she'll be damned if she ever went back. That was the whole reason she came to Hawkins after all.

She hopped in the shower, letting the steaming water soothe away some of the aches in her body and the itch under the skin of her left wrist. She scrubbed the spot relentlessly to no avail, before the pain made her stop. But pain was not a problem to her, never had been; she could just make it stop. Her eyes stared a hole into her wrist, the cover up tattoo faded just enough to make out the original underneath in bold black - 007. The tears came out of nowhere, the shame followed soon after.

How was she still so weak? So easily brought down by things so far in her past? It was pathetic. She punched the hard tile wall, shock spreading through her bones like ink on paper, but she didn't turn the dial down. Sometimes it was good to just feel the burning ache. Sometimes feeling nothing scared her more than the soreness of bruised bones and split open skin.

Sleep wasn't going to come again that night, not between her recurring nightmares and the new problems that arose. She was in her car in moments, hair still dripping wet and an oversized shirt haphazardly thrown on. Driving usually helped calm her nerves, but it was doing little in that moment. Coming to Hawkins must have been a mistake after all. It only brought more questions and none of the sweet release she had dreamed of.

She found the quarry easily despite not particularly looking for it, but it was a good a spot as any to ponder and make sense of her raging thoughts. She was tired. She had expected the nightmares not to fully disappear, but honestly she was hoping they would have at least changed to the new horrors she was exposed to. Apparently childhood trauma was stronger than finding out there was another dimension filled with mind controlling monsters and human eating dogs. It hadn't helped at all to find out that Dr. Brenner - papa - was killed by one of the creatures from the so called Upside Down. She felt somehow cheated. She hadn't particularly wanted to kill him herself, add more blood to her already dripping hands, but she wished she could have seen it, even if just to make sure the fucker had actually bitten the proverbial dust.

Passing her hand through her hair she spotted the blood on the sleeve and recalled the previous day and meeting police chief Hopper. Joining him in the tunnels beneath the pumpkin field, more or less with his knowledge and consent, and then the vines and the creature that attacked them. She was so accustomed to use her powers to get out of anything, but apparently those things - demodogs - felt pain differently. Or perhaps it was because of the hive mind. The pain was not dealt directly to the 'main' brain so it affected the host less. She let out an exasperated sigh, head resting backwards on the seat. It was insane, all of it!

Finding out about El had also been heartbreaking on its own, even if she never got to meet the girl before she had ran away. Hopper didn't, couldn't, understand what is was like to spend your life in a little square room and then being offered a glimpse of the world beyond. It was only a matter of time before the poor girl went to explore the glorious outside with all the restrictions he was putting up. His concern was understandable, his method not so much.

Eleven. There had been four more attempts after her. Four children kidnapped and their families destroyed. She didn't dare wonder too long on what those poor souls had been though, lest she'd be reminded of her own torment. But now that El was gone, Sandy thought her next move would be to find the girl, and maybe even the other three, if they were still alive. She knew for a fact that all the ones before her were long gone, but she hadn't been aware of the ones after. The MKUltra program hadn't died when she burned down the last lab, just redesigned itself. And apparently moved from torturing Soviet spies to opening portals to deadly dimensions of horrors. Fun!

She pressed her head to the steering wheel, exhaling slowly and closing her eyes. Which was a horrendous mistake. She jerked up the second after, her heart threatening to beat out of her chest. It was so dark and quiet, almost too quiet. Was that normal silence or the dead stillness that foretold of evils lurking just out of sight, the calm before the storm? Her drumming heart was the only sound for the longest time, so loud she was sure it could be heard all the way to the fucking Upside Down. She nearly jumped out of her skin when a flash of light darted at the edge of her vision.

It turned out to be a car, a blue Camaro in fact. She watched Billy park the car right beside hers and give her a small nod, not opening the window or giving any sign he was going to move from his seat. If anything, he looked like he wanted to be left alone, which was pretty obvious by the choice of place and time.

There was a moment of calmness, his presence there, the normality he brought, chasing away the shadows in her head. But as soon as he turned off the headlights and they were plunged in a seemingly deeper darkness than before, her eyes started again to frantically search for threats behind the treeline. She kept looking his way as well, wondering if he would send her away if she jumped in the passenger seat of his Camaro or be up to relieve some tension with her. She didn't want to be alone, it was selfish, she knew. But at the same time, he didn't seem like the kind of guy to mind a meaningless one time fling. How many girls he must have charmed with that car alone, not to mention that ass?

When she spied that he was having trouble with his lighter Sandy didn't think twice as she opened the door and slipped into his car in one fast, fluid motion, like the night air could have been toxic. She passed him her own lighter as an excuse, but the small smile on his lips and raised brow showed he saw right through her tough girl act.

"Scared of the dark, are we?" He took the lighter nevertheless and she was happy he was letting her stay, even if it was for a little while.

"Of what could be lurking in it." He gave her a weird look, like he had been expecting more of her, despite not knowing anything about her, probably not even her name if Max hadn't told him. "Don't laugh, there had been some weird animal attacks in this stupid town."

Billy just stared at her for another second before turning to look ahead and taking one long drag from his cigar. He was tired and didn't have the energy to mock her for the childlike fear or her disheveled look. He had hoped she would have left after he returned the lighter, but the girl took a cigar out of his pack as well and was now smoking besides him in an odd, but comforting silence. If he was completely honest with himself, he hadn't wanted to be alone, not after Neil's outburst and the pain in his ribs, but he had nowhere to run to, no friends to confide in and no one to tell him it will all be over soon, he just had to finish high-school. One more fucking year! In Cali at least he had his surfing and some 'friends' he could always count on to drink the pain away with without having to explain himself.

He eyed the girl again, trying to get his mind off of his home life. What was her deal? And more importantly, was she wearing no pants? His eyes trailed her exposed legs. They were barely visible in the moonlight, but the nasty looking burn mark on her thigh was standing out like a sore thumb. He had hoped he would have seen her in school, but Tommy H and Carol knew of no one with her description. It didn't help that he didn't even know her damn name. His brows furrowed, who was this stranger sitting in his car?

"Are you ever going to tell me your name?"

"Ask me nicely and maybe I will."

"It's only fair, you know mine."

"Ah, you're no fun..."

"I'm plenty of fun!"

"I bet you are." It was a half mock, half praise, the little smirk on her lips as she blew the smoke away as sinful as the glint in her eyes when she winked. It brought out his more flirtatious nature, the momentary anger turning into lust.

"Fine, don't tell me, doll." She scoffed, something between surprise and irritation, but she kept the playful demeanor, the smile never leaving her lips.

"Do I look like a doll to you?"

"It's all I got if you're not giving me your name." He raised his shoulders, the corners of his lips lifting into a smirk. He was quite proud of the nickname he gave the mystery girl. "Besides, it's on your registration plate, doll." He used it again, in hopes he'd make her give up her name. But the effect had been nothing of the sorts, her eves lighting up with mischief, eyebrows raised. He felt like she was in on some joke he had no clue about.

"Ah, so with just one 'L'?"

"Does it matter? It sounds all the same."

"But it doesn't mean the same!" She turned in her seat to fully face him, one leg carefully tucked beneath her. His eyes were drawn again to that burn mark, but her gleeful voice brought his attention back to her face. "Dol, D-O-L, is a unit measurement for pain. They use these instruments, dolorimeters - I know, funny name - to find out a person's pain sensitivity level when they apply steady pressure, or heat, or electrical stimulation to some areas of the body. Or even when they pop out a joint or break a bone. Crazy what scientist are doing these days."

Billy blinked a few times, slowly making sense of her word vomit. What the actual fuck? What kind of teenager knew these kind of things? And more importantly who on earth was so into it? He grimaced when his thoughts took him back to his father. Neil would have a field day with one of those dolori-something pain inducing instruments.

"You're weird."

"I'll take that as a compliment." She gave him a shit eating grin and for a moment he thought she was just messing with him. It was all an attempt at some lame joke, finding her there in the middle of the night, no pants, alone and flinching every time a sound came from outside the car, talking about torture devices. But her expression softened for a brief moment, the glee completely draining from her eyes before she turned her head to check the trees for what must have been the tenth time since she got in his Camaro. The question formed on his lips before he could decide if he even wanted to know or not.

"What are you doing out here?"

"Probably the same as you." She paused, and for a moment it didn't seem like she was going to continue. When she did though, her voice came out as more of a whisper. "Running away from my problems mostly. Trying to figure out what to do next. Things like that." Billy couldn't stop staring at her. Barely clothed, hair a wet mess. The little scar on her upper lip and burned flesh on her thigh. Skittish, her eyes checking for a threat to jump out of the trees. Was she in some kind of trouble? All he knew about her was the was 'just passing through'. His breath caught in his throat when he noticed the dark rusty spots on her sleeve, the evidence piecing itself together in his head like a tragic puzzle, one he knew so well. Someone had done all that to her.

"So what brought you to Hawkins from beautiful Florida?"

"What brought you here from sunny California?" His initial concern was dimming, the girl's evasive responses getting old and tiring. He was curious, sure, but he wasn't going to pry if she wasn't comfortable to tell him. He knew how crucial it was to hide the truth, to keep it all in, buried as far from the light of day. All it ever brought was pity or judgement, none pleasant to experience.

"You don't give straight answers, do you?" She poked her tongue out at him in a childish manner before turning back to look at the forest. There was just no winning with this girl. He wasn't sure why the next words left his mouth, but he felt the blood boiling in his veins with each syllable, his fingers curling tightly around the steering wheel as if bracing for an impact. "I'm here instead of on a beach, because of my shitty dad and his wonderful new family." That seemed to get her attention though, her head snapping back to him. She seemed to weight her reply carefully, before finally speaking.

"I'm just passing through. Might actually leave sooner than expected…" He was surprised she changed the subject. Most people would have asked him to elaborate or worse, insist his life couldn't be so bad, give a motivational, positivity dripping monlogue, as if they knew anything about him. But she brought the discussion back to her and it kept his mind off the fact that sooner or later he had to head back to his own home, if he could even call it that anymore. Maybe Neil, Susan and Max would all be happier if he just… disappeared, packed up a bag and head out into the world.

"Going back home?"

"Don't actually have a home, I guess." His brows furrowed, jaw clenching slightly. Again with the evasive half answers. How could she not have a home? Was she an orphan? But even so, she would have been put in the system. Had she ran away? Was it like his 'home', a place where he went to sleep and eat, but with little else of the qualities usually attached to the word?

Sandy watched him as the frown took over his pretty boy face. She could see the cogs working in his brain trying to piece together the meaning and implication of her last sentence, and perhaps even preparing to bombard her with questions. But how could she ever explain she was born in a lab and raised by a crazy scientist who made her torture people for information? And what was it with his sudden interest in her non existent home? She turned to look at him straight in the eyes for the first time that night. She stared long and hard into his blues and reached with her mind and felt the pain he was hiding just beneath the surface. Her eyes fell to his torso, hand sticking out to graze the tender spot hidden by his shirt. He flinched, but she knew the pain never hit him from that little touch, nor when she flung her leg over unceremoniously to straddle him. Good thing she forgot to put on pants when she left.

"You want to talk shitty pasts or fuck till we forget our problems? Dealers choice." But she already knew the answer, his hands burning on her cold skin, trailing up her thighs. If she surprised him with her sudden move, he didn't show it. Perhaps he didn't really care, her desperate need for a distraction mirrored by his own. Meaningless sex was always a great way to keep our mind off pressing matters. He seemed to know that well, perhaps they were not so different.

Their lips met in a furry, neither sure who closed the space between them first and neither caring. They kissed, hard and desperate, just like she liked it, the sheer force leaving her lips throbbing. Sandy's hands puled his shirt out of his jeans hasty, the need to feel his skin against hers paramount to her very existence and broke the kiss for the briefest moment as it came over his head. Had it really been that long since she'd been with anybody? She couldn't remember, not with Billy's hands squeegeeing her ass and pulling her closer to him, grinding up towards her. She wasted little time, taking off her own shirt, the size of it allowing her to leave to buttoned up, before bringing her mouth back to his, her hands snaking around his neck and chests pressed together. His hands roamed on her back, fingertips digging in her skin, occasionally stopping to feel the length of a scar or another.

He was so wonderfully warm she melted into him, moaning into the kiss as she slowly started grinding into him. She felt him smirking, lips never parting further than to allow him to leave a trail of soppy kisses on her jawline and down her neck. One of his hands wound tight in the hair at the base of her neck, as his teeth sunk in the flesh just beside her pulse and Sand found herself smiling.

"Shit, stop with the teasing!" But he said nothing, only letting out a huff of acknowledgement, his plump lips still attached to that sweet spot where the neck met the shoulder. His other hand, once done with exploring, found one of her breasts. She let out a straggled moan, the air caught in her throat. She was dizzy, his warmth seeping into her her, intoxicating like a new drug. And to think he'd barely touched her. She wet her lower lip with her tongue, the thought of what was to come maddening. In her drunken state she almost begged. Almost. Two could play that game and she wasn't know to be fair.

The button and zipper of his jeans flew open before he realized. Billy gasped when her hand pressed none too gently over his dick, rubbing it through the soft fabric of his boxers. A part of him relished in the small pleasures of teasing her raw. The other part made him lift his hips when she struggled to push his jeans and boxers aside. His head flew backwards hitting the headrest as her fingers wrapped tightly around his freed cock, thumb pressing into the tip to smudge some of the precum. She pumped him with a steady, merciless grip, but it was her expression that made him give in, eyes dark with lust and a grin that knew she was going to get exactly what she wanted out of him.

He gripped her wrist and pinned it to her lower back while his other hand pushed her black panties aside, not bothering to fully take them off. She lifted herself just enough, shuddering when his fingers made a straight line from her collarbone all the way between her folds. Her hands resting on his shoulders for support. She was dripping wet, not that he was surprised. He slipped into her fast with one powerful thrust, sheeting his dick completely. She arched her back with a lewd moan, like a coil falling back to place. Billy rested his forehead above her breast, the heat and tightness of her pussy making his head spin.

"Fuck."

"Me." Her breath was hot on his ear, the hairs on his neck standing. "Hard!" She needn't say it twice. Both his hands found her waist to guide her, but the vixen knew what she was doing, her body undulating in time with his violent thrusts. He found he couldn't quite take his eyes off of her, the moonlight emphasizing all the right places. The curve of her neck as her head lolled back, lips parted, the little scar almost invisible if he didn't already know where to look. Her breasts bouncing in a hypnotic rhythm, nipples perky as they occasionally grazed his chest in the cramped space. And that sweet mage of his cock disappearing into her, her vulgar moans and slapping skin the only sounds filling the car.

Sandy tried to keep her eyes open, the image of Billy's taunt muscles and fully blown eyes imprinted on her retinas, but failed miserably when his fingers wrapped around her neck. She relished in the feelings instead, her skin tingling wherever his caressed, fondled or dug into. She cursed his jeans for only being lowered to his thighs, precious territory left unexplored. The steering wheel was pressing hard into her back, the ache in perfect contrast to the pleasure shooting up from between her thighs as Billy rammed into her viciously. She came hard, pure bliss passing through her in wave after wave making her quiver uncontrollably. Strong arms encased around her, grounding her in reality, as he somehow picked up the pace, his rhythm erratic. He spilled into her while she was still coming down her high, his head buried into the crook of her neck. They stood there for a moment longer, breaths ragged and bodies slick with sweat, her fingers twisting his damp hair around.

Sandy was the first to speak.

"Well hot damn, should have jumped you in that paring lot." He chuckled against her skin, the vibrations pleasant to her still sensitive body.

"Took the words right out of my mouth, doll." The corners of her mouth twisted into a sly smile and she untangled herself from him, his hands lingering on her until the last second. She regarded the completely fogged windows as she found her shirt and put it back on, but she couldn't bring herself to worry about the world outside that Camaro. Not yet at lest. She turned toward him, his almost sheepish expression endearing.

"I'll be in town for a coupe more days. Motel 6, room 13. Don't be a stranger." She pushed the door open and stepped into to cool night air, but passed him a final wink before getting into her own car. "Oh and, you can call me Sandy."

#stranger things #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x oc #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #love at first sting #torment never looked so goddamn fine #fanfic #billy hargrove fanfiction

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lupizora · 5 years

Text

Shattered Reflection

Since the leftover sales for @bnhavillainauzine are on, I can finally post my fic for it here. It was a Villain Bakugou origin story, or more precisely, how imagined it would go down without anyone having to die for it.

Please consider helping bring this project to a satisfying conclusion by snatching our last copies!! Bonus, you’d get to enjoy the badass content from our contributors in all of its glory~ ♥

Genre: Angst/Drama

Pairing: None/Gen

Rating: T

Word Count: 4684

Summary: After a chance meeting with a rising Hero, the ghosts of the past return to remind Katsuki of the dream he left behind.

Explodo never thought he would hit the ground, more so roll on it until he had to stretch a hand to stop. The lower layer of his gloves shredded like paper from the friction, and hot air rushed through the crack in his gas mask. Street lights illuminated the secluded parking lot around him, the sickly orange color bouncing off the cars. Footsteps echoed like sledgehammers in the silence as the Hero materialized from the shadows of the alley. The same alley Explodo shot out from like a bullet when the asshole had punched him out of nowhere.

He got up on one knee, pieces of his mask fluttering like leaves to the ground. "What's your fucking problem?"

The Hero's metallic headpiece glistened as he stopped at a safe distance. "You're under arrest."

"And what are my so-called crimes?"

"Isn't burning someone's small-time business enough?"

"His tempura was horrible. I was doing the world a favor."

"It's not up to you to decide that. Now stop resisting."

"I was peacefully getting away until you attacked me, dipshit." Explodo sneered. "This is me resisting."

He closed the distance between them with a double explosion, aiming for a right hook. The Hero avoided it. Grabbing his arm and the front of his turtleneck, the Hero slammed him over his shoulder on the concrete. Explodo's teeth clattered. He jumped to his feet, delivering an uppercut square on the Hero's jaw. It felt like hitting a wall even if his gloves absorbed part of the impact.

The fight continued with a barrage of fists and explosions. Explodo returned with double ferocity every heavy punch the Hero struck, like they were locked in some sort of odd dance. Explodo would press forward. The Hero would step back. Adrenaline rushed through Explodo’s veins. His heart pounded like a wild horse and sweat gathered underneath his face mask. This was a pointless fight. He knew it. Still, the thrill of it kept him going until a curious question popped up in his mind.

How is this guy still standing? He thought. His burns should be second-degree by now.

In that moment of lost concentration, the Hero found an opening and grabbed the muzzle of Explodo's gas mask. Rough fingers scraped against his cheek and his stomach did an unpleasant somersault. Pressing both palms on the Hero's bare chest, he released the most powerful explosion so far and the shockwave pushed them apart. Explodo managed to stay upright. His fingers were numb, pain running along the length of his forearms.

He stood, breathing hard, but the Hero didn’t reappear. As the smoke cleared and his ears stopped ringing, Explodo followed the cracked path of the concrete to find the Hero spread-eagled against a car. He had dented the vehicle inwards, but he himself appeared unharmed.

Seriously, what is this fucker made off? Explodo thought. He looks too normal to be a Mutant-type.

Something wet stained his cheekbones, and part of his face ached from where the straps of his mask had rubbed against his skin when they snapped. He ran his tongue along the length of his lower lip and felt the sharp tang of blood.

The piercing cry of a police siren shrilled through the night air. This was his cue to get the hell out of there. As he stepped forward, the Hero took a harsh breath.

"Why…" he whispered. "Such a powerful Quirk and you ended up like this?"

Explodo stared wide-eyed at him. "Huh?"

Grabbing the hood of the car like it was made of butter, the Hero heaved himself to his feet again. His eyes were set on the villain like his life depended on it. "Of all things you could do, why did you become a petty arsonist?"

Sparks of irritation ran along Explodo’s spine like firecrackers. "Who are you calling petty, asshole? You don’t know a damn thing about me!”

"But you could’ve become anything you wanted!" The Hero took a step forward, grunting from the effort. His body crackled like he was a walking stone statue and that didn’t seem too far from the truth.

Explodo snorted. "Get off your high horse. Only Heroes get to use their Quirks in public. That's what their licenses are for." He glared at him from under his hood, the words dripping like poison from his mouth. "Everyone else has to lower their heads and pretend they don't have one—like they are Quirkless."

His animosity stunned the Hero, who lowered his head. "But did you try?" he asked. The earlier accusatory tone melted into an almost innocent curiosity as if he wanted—no needed—to understand but couldn’t wrap his head around it.

Explodo would have preferred if the Hero had yelled this question. Then maybe he wouldn’t have remembered his fourteen-year-old self, when he was still named Bakugou Katsuki, brimming with confidence as he shouted from the top of his desk that one day he would surpass All Might and become the number one Hero; a memory Explodo had buried so deep and for so long, it could belong to someone else.

Something moved on his right. Explodo jumped backward as a set of tentacles crashed into the pavement where he’d been standing. They appeared to be the fingers of another Hero entering the scene. He wore a cape with a hood in bright colors and his mask was covering half of his face.

"Are you alright, Red Riot?" he asked with a quick turn of the head to the other Hero.

"I've been through worse."

The easy-going tone in his voice, like this fight had been a walk in the park, irked Explodo but he suppressed his anger. These were unfamiliar waters. He hadn't been against two trained Heroes before and this second guy seemed like he was hiding more tricks up his sleeves. It was time to make his exit.

"As much as I'd love to kick both your asses, my job here is done." He propelled himself into the air, landing with a backflip on a street light. "Three is a crowd anyway."

"Wait!" Red Riot called. "You never answered me."

Explodo glanced over his shoulder. "Being this soft gets you killed in the real world," he said and jumped to avoid another tentacle coming after him. "Better remember that, Hero."

These were his final words as he propelled himself onto another street light, keeping this pace until he left the parking lot and the Heroes behind.

A few days later and Katsuki was staring at the ceiling fan with the intensity of a million suns. Good thing he couldn't set things on fire with his eyes too or the poor plastic thing would have been incinerated into a pile of ashes. He kept replaying the recent disgraceful encounter like a broken record. So far he had gotten by with hit-and-run attacks. In the past, whenever a Hero had intercepted him they hadn't been a serious threat. This had been the first real fight since meeting the Villain Alliance two years before. Katsuki had managed to escape by the skin of his teeth back then too; the same anger rumbling inside his chest as Shigaraki had more or less allowed him to live.

Sparks crackled like fireworks in his palms, but it did little to ease the prickles crawling underneath his skin. Katsuki scratched the flesh between his fingers. Of course, who would have thought such an up-and-coming sidekick like Red Riot would show up in this degraded shit-hole of a district. He was a U.A. graduate who made his debut during an internship by apprehending a crook that had taken a Quirk-boosting drug. Through watching videos and reading articles of his deeds, even Katsuki could admit the guy was promising. That didn't stop him from wishing revenge though. The bruises and his damaged pride hurt like hell.

The fan did another lazy turn and dust glinted in the few light rays the blinds let through. If he paid attention long enough, Katsuki could hear the plumbing rattling through the walls. Whenever water rushed a little stronger than usual, chips of paint would rain from the ceiling and cover everything like sugar powder.

"Kiddo! Come here for a sec," Jin called.

With an annoyed huff, Katsuki hopped over the couch's back and walked to the kitchen. It was a narrow room with a low counter on the left and a kitchen table almost making contact with the right wall, but it was decent compared to the previous dump they’d called home.

He leaned on the doorframe, crossing his arms. "Will you cut that shit out already? I'm of age." His birthday was three months ago and he had been a few centimeters taller for a while, but Jin hadn't stopped dropping some variation of "kid" when he addressed him.

"I will when you start acting like it." Jin pointed at the table. "There's some cash. Take it and go to the convenience store."

"Why?"

"You have the itch-look on your face, and you're supposed to lay low so you can't go around burning things. We are out of milk anyway."

Katsuki's expression changed from mildly annoyed to grumpy, and then to super pissed in the span of the entire sentence. He smacked his hand on the counter. "I haven't burned anything in this fucking house for months!"

Jin stopped peeling the potato and used the handle of the knife to raise his palm from the counter. There was a faint scorched imprint from where his skin had come in contact with the steel.

"For fuck's sake." Katsuki snapped his hand away. "Can't you just clone me or something?"

"Doubling you will only double my problems." He allowed himself a small smile before his expression turned serious again. "No matter how interested I am in seeing you having a showdown with yourself, I don't want to replace furniture so soon. Don't be such a brat and go already. The fresh air may cool your head a little."

"Fine, you prissy old man."

His keys jingled as Katsuki unlocked the door, but he stopped with his hand on the handle. "If your Quirk works with you having a clear image, can't just clone yourself as you were before?" he said, tapping the center of his forehead. "At least that way we'll know who's the real one."

The knife stabbed the doorframe a few centimeters above his shoulder. Jin was panting with a strained expression, sweat already dripping from his chin. He covered his face with his hands.

"Get out."

The convenience store was packed for such a warm afternoon. Old ladies, students, and mothers with their children walked around, not seeming to mind the malfunctioning AC. Their chatter was like radio static to Katsuki, bits and pieces of a peaceful world he wasn't part of anymore. It baffled him how folks could go on with their mundane everyday lives while knowing of the terror lurking out there. Or maybe they didn't know. Not fully at least. After all, not everyone got their life turned upside down by a Villain; one that slid out of an ordinary soda bottle no less.

Katsuki had just begun his last year of middle school back then. After the incident, he couldn't stop wondering that if he had reacted faster, if he hadn't stood frozen like a fucking idiot, he could have prevented it. But while drowning under the sludge he had none of those thoughts. All his energy was focused on clawing his way out of it.

"C'mon! Stop struggling," the Villain said. His slime had covered Katsuki almost entirely by then, like a heavy blanket he couldn't shake off. "It'd be easier for you too."

As if I'd let an asshole like you win! He thought, frustrated. I'm stronger than this! His palms ignited explosions of their own volition, shattering the road around them.

The Villain's whistle rang inside Katsuki's head as if he had done it. "What a jackpot! Why have you been hiding such a Quirk, huh?"

It had been a ridiculous remark. One Katsuki shouldn't have paid attention to considering who it came from, but it stuck even after All Might had saved both him and Deku. In the following days, it had evolved into the same question buzzing at the back of his mind.

Why hadn’t his strong Quirk helped him in the first place?

His goons provided the answer. They had been avoiding him like the plague after the incident, so one day Katsuki hunted them down at their hidden smoking spot. Long Fingers attempted to greet him casually, but Katsuki grabbed him by the lapel of his school uniform and demanded an explanation for their behavior.

"It's nothing personal," Long Fingers said. "Just uh…"

"It was the first time you went all out like that," Undercut said. "Like we knew your Quirk is top notch, but this…" He fiddled with his unlit cigar. "This was freaky."

Katsuki let Long Fingers go. "And what about that? You dolts think no Hero ever went that far to beat a Villain?"

"If the Villain wasn't there…" Undercut looked up. "I'd say you were enjoying the destruction."

"You think I did it on purpose?" He said as an itch gnawed at the flesh inside his palms. "I'm gonna be a Hero! Collateral damage is in the goddamn job description."

"Then tell me, is beating the bad guys the only reason you wanna be a Hero?"

The irritation spread to the rest of his hands and Katsuki clenched them into fists. "Cut the crap. Who do you think you are to question me? You lot of ambitionless extras will never understand what it takes to make it into U.A.! If I have to destroy public property to practice, that’s exactly what I’m gonna do!"

"But it'll get on your record," Long Fingers said. "You wouldn't dare."

It had been as if someone flipped a switch inside his head. Katsuki pretended the topic was over in front of them, but he pondered it in the privacy of his room. He had been using his Quirk within regulations his whole life. He needed a clean record to even think of enrolling in the most popular school of the country. After all, there were things that even he wouldn't be able to get away with doing.

Without Katsuki realizing it, the earlier itch had returned. He scratched absentmindedly at the spot below his fingers and followed the calluses all the way to the heel of his hand. His palms had always had a rough texture to them, like a countermeasure against burning his skin with his Quirk. Due to that, irritations were rare. He stared at his hand. Any more scratching and he would bleed. His Quirk ignited, sparks flying along his fingers like mini-firecrackers. For a moment he hadn't noticed something was missing until the heat from his explosions receded.

The itch was back.

Grabbing the nearest hoodie, he left the house. The sun was a single brushstroke of red on the horizon. No one had paid him much attention, and the crowd thinned significantly closer to the beach park until Katsuki stood alone at the entrance.

Behind the protective railing, trash piles spread like hills among the sand. It was common for the locals to dump their garbage there, despite the glaring warning sign. Of course, the chances of bumping into someone were low, given how sneaky people were being about it. Still, Katsuki didn't stop looking behind his back as he navigated through the trash. Several steps later he stumbled into a clearing. Microwaves, television sets, and other electrical appliances were scattered all around him. A large fridge got his attention as the last sun rays were reflected in its mirrored surface. The door of the refrigerator was missing, the ice long since evaporated. With a deep breath, he pressed both hands on the fridge. The cold metal bent under the growing heat and at its peak, he released the explosion.

The fridge split in two, scorched parts and cables spilling to the ground like intestines. Katsuki skidded backward but managed to stay upright. Birds flew off from the ruckus. Worry plagued him for a moment, but soon euphoria replaced the weight in his chest. His smoking hands weren't itching anymore. He closed them into fists, allowing a feral grin to spread across his face.

It was intoxicating; like a forbidden early taste of the freedom awaiting him.

The whole situation turned into a game in his head. Passing under the radar of his parents and crossing paths with unsuspecting pedestrians amused him. No one had considered for a moment that an honor student like him would be breaking the law. Lowering the strength of his explosions had helped avoid arousing suspicion from the locals. Everyone pretended the trash weren’t their problem, but loud noises in the middle of the night would had eventually gathered some complaints. His grades were unaffected too, because he made sure to finish his homework before sneaking out. By the time he decided to go there during the day, Katsuki was sure he had won.

His footsteps were light against the pavement that summer day. It took all his concentration to not propel himself a little faster with the help of his explosions.

I could try that today, he thought with a smile as he neared the beach park.

There was a man standing at the entrance.

As if lightning struck him, Katsuki stopped in his tracks.

Super tall and criminally thin, the man leaned against an old pickup truck. His back was still turned as he observed the piles of trash, so Katsuki fled. After at least a block away, he ducked behind a wall to hide. His heart hammered in his chest like a caged bird. Blood pounded in his temples and he was sweating all over. Reality dawned on him like someone had doused him with cold water.

Game over.

Of course, the man had worn only a regular t-shirt and pants. He couldn’t have been an officer. Rumours spread fast though and Katsuki had been doing this for months. Witnesses were bound to show up, no matter how careful he had been. One-time offenders were forgiven with barely a slap on the wrist but given the level of his offence, this would go on his record for sure. So from that day on, Katsuki stopped going to the beach and used his Quirk only when it was allowed.

He could endure this. The exams were only nine months away.

This was his mantra when pens started melting in his hands, and he left hand imprints on his chair. Everyone was willing to sweep these accidents under the rug with only a minor scolding. Being nervous was to be expected. He aimed for the top after all. But the itch kept him awake even the night before the exam. Katsuki stared at the ceiling, battling the thought of sneaking out for one last time until the sun rose on the horizon.

Endure it…

His mother caught him in the hall with his bag already on his shoulder. She tightened the scarf around his neck, raving about how proud they were. His dad managed to sneak a photo at that moment with a fond smile. Katsuki still remembered vividly their confident faces as they sent him off.

Endure it.

The train ride was a blur of faceless people and bleak scenery. It didn't help him forget the itch crawling inch by inch along his forearm. Katsuki kept his hands strictly in the pockets of his coat all the way to the main entrance of U.A. Passing under the gateways was like a dream come true. Then his gaze landed on the mustard yellow backpack in front of him, and the boy with the mess of green hair wearing it.

Endure it!

Anger flared in his chest like a grenade. That bastard Deku still aimed to take the spotlight from him. What right did that Quirkless nobody have to try and play the hero? The stench of burned fabric reached him, and Katsuki stared at his smoking palms, terrified. He was amongst a mass of examinees and probably members of the staff. He wasn't allowed to make a scene.

In his hurry to leave, Katsuki bumped onto someone. He only registered the other person wearing a black uniform too. With clenched fists, he tried to move past him, but the guy stood in his way again.

"The exams are the other way," he said.

"Dropped my ID," Katsuki mumbled.

"Ouch. I can help you lo-"

"No fucking need. Move."

"O-okay…" The guy flashed him an uneasy shark-toothed smile and stepped aside. "Uh, good luck!" he shouted at Katsuki's disappearing back.

"Whatever."

Reaching the foliage-less trees was a race against his raging emotions. The moment Katsuki passed the brow of the forest, he broke into a sprint. It was after several meters that he stopped and leaned wheezing against a tree trunk. He pulled at the scarf.

This is ridiculous. I have to go back, he thought. I won't lose this chance because of the damn nerd.

But that's not it, isn't it? The voice, that wasn't quite his, whispered in his ears. What if you can't contain yourself during the exam?

Something heavy settled on his shoulders. Phantom tentacles started coiling around his arms as if the Mudman from a year ago was back.

I'm gonna have to use my Quirk to fight anyway.

What if they see me?

His reflection stared back from the fridge he had destroyed in the beach park. It grinned like a wild animal ready for the kill. The imaginary slime covered him whole. He was suffocating again. Katsuki ignited his Quirk. The wind scattered the scorched remains of his scarf away.

No, he couldn't do this. Not in this state. What Hero can't control his Quirk?

Katsuki fled like hell was chasing him, and didn't stop boarding trains until he had left behind all familiar places.

For a society boasting about low crime rates, the outskirts were brimming with people illegally using their Quirks. So Katsuki just followed their example to stay alive in these streets. Falling under the radar took some time to get used to, especially when all sorts of oddballs—Vigilantes, Villain-wannabes, the random police patrol—tried to get ahold of him at any given opportunity. It turned into another game of hide-and-seek, his loathing growing with each encounter. Their Quirks were extensions of their bodies. Why should Katsuki repress his? They’d lived in a superhuman society for decades. Normal and ordinary were supposed to be out of the dictionary.

They weren't, though, because Quirkless people still existed. Those echoes of an era long gone didn't want to feel left out and had to drag everyone else into this farce of appearing as equals. Things had changed, the world had changed, and someone had to show them the truth. So Katsuki did. Maybe Jin was right calling him a kid. His resolution hadn't changed from back then. It wasn't about controlling his Quirk anymore. He only wanted to see the world burn beneath his fingertips.

Sometimes Katsuki wondered if the other kid, the one dreaming of heroics, still existed underneath the mask. He couldn't recognize anymore where Explodo ended and his civilian persona began because his reflection had the same intensity either way.

Intensity he currently directed at the misplaced shelves in front of him. He knew this convenience store like the back of his hand as it was the closest to their apartment. The fruit and vegetable stalls should have been there. Katsuki sighed, frustrated. He had plowed through the shopping list he’d been given with the money easily, but decided to get some watermelon slices too—watermelon was Jin’s go-to desert during summer. Katsuki hadn't tried to be a total dick to the older Villain; he’d only wanted to release some of his annoyance in less destructive ways. But he had pushed the wrong buttons on someone that was more mentally unstable than him. If he didn't want this to end badly, he had better patch things up.

While turning around the corner of the particular corridor though, he crashed into someone. Both their baskets fell to the floor. Katsuki attempted to steady himself on the shelves but his hand missed. The other person grabbed it instead and straightened him. The muscle-toned and caked-with-scars arm belonged to a guy around his height and probably his age, although some remains of his teen softness still clung to his face. His hair, tied into a loose short ponytail, was as red as his eyes when they locked gazes. Of course, Katsuki knew that pulling his hand away as fast as he did was rude, but the goddamn contact made his skin crawl. He didn't fancy people touching him in costume; he sure as hell didn't like it out of it either.

"Watch where you're going, Shitty Hair."

"Hey!" he said with a hidden laugh in his voice. "Have you seen your own hair, Explosion Boy?"

Katsuki froze. "What?"

"I mean the way it sticks out in all directions like that reminds me of a static explosion." He flashed an awkward sharp-toothed smile. "So I went along with the joke."

As the little scar running on his eyelid was revealed, Katsuki realized he had just rubbed shoulders with Red Riot again. If he allowed him to continue this thought it would mean the worst scenario was around the corner. After all, the scratches on Katsuki’s face were still fresh and visible.

An attack was the best defense.

"You look familiar," Katsuki said skeptically, crossing his arms.

Red Riot mirrored him. "I don't think we've met."

Katsuki cocked his head like a curious cat and forced his eyes to widen in fake surprise. "Could it be…? You're Red Riot, the Vigorous Hero, right?"

Total bliss washed over the Hero's features to the point of almost glowing. It only lasted for a brief moment before he tried to suppress it.

"You got me," he said. "And I'm really sorry for the mess." He gestured at the scattered groceries at their feet.

"Nah, I kinda overreacted. It's wasn't that big of a deal."

"Let me help then."

They gathered their stuff in silence with Katsuki stealing glances in Red Riot's direction. He appeared calm, but couldn't shake the feeling of impending doom off his shoulders. Had he dodged this or not?

Everything was back in place before he could come to a satisfying conclusion. But the Hero didn't make a move to leave. Instead, he scratched the back of his neck with a puzzled expression.

"Uh… Would you like me to treat you to some coffee? For the trouble and all?"

"Really it wasn't-"

"I insist."

He had such an honest look on his face, like he had done some great offense to him and wanted to repay it. Katsuki bit the inside of his cheek to keep the feral grin from spreading across his face. This guy was indeed too soft for this job.

"Alright," he said defeated. "I know a place nearby if you want."

"You're a lifesaver, man! This is my first time in this neighborhood."

"And you still offered? Are you an idiot?"

Red Riot actually laughed at that. "You're pretty weird yourself," he said and gestured at him from top to bottom.

"Katsuki."

"Eijirou. Nice to meet you."

"Same."

And he wasn't lying. Opportunities like this were considered miracles. It was like the star guiding the wicked finally smiled at him. If he played his cards right not only revenge, but valuable info too would be within his grasp. It didn’t matter that Red Riot resembled the guy Katsuki bumped into the day of U.A.’s entrance exam. Idiots with that considerate attitude were those aiming to be Heroes the most. The bravery of sticking to their dreams didn’t matter either. It was Villain policy to give them a reality check.

After all, Heroes don’t always win in the end.

#bnha villian au #bakugou katsuki #villain au #bnha #bnha fanfiction #bnha fic #boku no hero academia #fanfiction #fanfic #bnhavillainauzine #mhavillainauzine #wolfswriting #wolfsstuff #shards series

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everlarkbirthdaygifts · 5 years

Text

Happy Birthday, niceworksherlock!

Today, we wish Happy Birthday to @niceworksherlock! We hope you had a wonderful day, and celebrated in style! To keep your party going a little while longer, the lovely @mega-aulover has written a story just for you!

FOR: @niceworksherlock

PROMPT: I would love something sweet, no angst, maybe a bit of arranged marriage?

A/N: Happy birthday, Niceworksherlock! I hope you have a wonderful day. I hope I did the prompt justice, I took your prompt and added a little bit of one my favorite movie a White Christmas...hope you can spot the scene. Special thanks to my beta @booksrockmyface

Rated: G

Special Delivery

Katniss stood on the platform of the train station waiving to Annie. Taking a deep breath, she was next to leave. Miss Effie classified her as Special Delivery. Katniss was to travel first class all the way to Ohio.

She was glad to be leaving the complicated city life for a chance to start over as a mail order bride. It didn't feel real. Less than a year ago she and her family had migrated to the United States from a tiny province in Europe that was no more.

She'd experienced so much death and violence. They left their country of Panem because of civil war. They arrived New York and, almost immediately, her father became ill and died. Soon afterwards, her sister and mother succumbed.

Penniless, she ended up working in a factory ten hours a day, six days a week. Those first few weeks by herself were the hardest. She lived on the streets until she met Annie at the factory. Together they scrimped all of their money to pay for a room. It was Annie who first saw the ad in the papers for Miss Effie's School For Refinement of Young Ladies. The ad promised at the end of the course young women would be matched in marriage with an eligible well-to-do husband. At first Katniss wanted no part of it, but Annie begged and pleaded. On a bright Sunday morning, their day off, they schlepped all the way from the slums of Brooklyn to Hamilton Heights, in Manhattan. 221B Baker Street was an ornate elegant brownstone townhouse. Katniss wore her best dress and so did Annie.

Miss Effie was the most unique woman Katniss had ever met. She dressed in the Regency style but her dresses were bright, loud concoctions; her hats were filled with birds, nests, twigs, and leaves to reflect the season. Miss Effie spoke English like no one else and she was a great stickler for manners. But she did provide Katniss and Annie a great education. Katniss learned how to read, write and do numbers. Miss Effie prepared them for marriage and everything in between, from how to cook outside to how to cook in the most expensive kitchens using the most expensive ingredients to the simplest. Three months later they graduated, Miss Effie had kept her bargain. Annie was betrothed to a gentleman from the Bayou region. Katniss was going to Ohio. She watched the train leave with an Annie on it, before turning to find her own train.

Miss Effie gifted each one of her students a trunk full of clothing. Katniss only had two garments: her day-to-day garment that she wore to work in and her best outfit she wore to Miss Effie’s school. Her garments were simple and well-worn since she had sold everything after her family's death to settle accounts and to provide them with proper burials. Miss Effie's gift was generous, it included a corset, two pairs of knit stockings and a pair of silk stocking, garters, green ribbon, two shifts, four petticoats, four aprons, three gowns, and a proper bonnet. She'd never had dresses before or one of the new corsets, she'd only had worn stays.

Katniss presented her ticket and was dashed away to a private compartment. Katniss had never seen such opulence. This was going to be her home for the next few days until she had to change trains again.

Sitting down, she took out the letter from her reticule. She hoped her husband was kind as the letter promised he would be.

His name was Peeta Mellark and Katniss hoped they would be compatible. She clutched the letter in her hand. She was married by proxy Peeta’s older brother, Degory, stood in Peeta’s stead since Peeta lived in a remote region of Ohio. Degory described his brother as average height and stocky. He said Peeta had the trademark blonde wavy hair and blue eyes of their family. He gave her a picture and he was in her eyes handsome. Katniss clutched the picture. Hope bloomed in her heart. She wanted peace and the West offered it. She couldn't wait to meet her new husband in less than a fortnight's time.

Two Weeks Later:

“You what?” Peeta exclaimed. His partner Haymitch Abernathy didn't flinch at his outburst. The man calmly slid his hand into his pockets.

“We got you a bride and she'll be here on the next stagecoach. She's travelled all the way from New York...special delivery,” Haymitch reiterated. He sat back in his chair as if waiting for Peeta to explode.

Peeta shook his head, dumbfounded, “I'm sorry, you what?”

“Now don't be acting dumb boy you know perfectly well what I said,” Haymitch said, scraping back his chair. He unfolded from the chair slowly.

Peeta couldn't believe what he had just heard. It was too early in the day for this. He hadn't even had his tea. “When you mean we, who is we?”

“Degory and I.”

Peeta should have known that his meddling eldest brother would be involved somehow. If his brother was involved that meant his mother was involved as well. Looking at Haymitch dead straight in the eyes he said, “No.”

“I knew you would say something like that so here…” Haymitch slid the marriage license onto the table.

He was angry and his hands shook as he picked up the the paper. Her name was written on it, but he was so upset he couldn't read straight. “This is the most boneheaded...how could you have done this Haymitch? With my brother!” Peeta yelled. He wasn't one for yelling or screaming. Normally he had a temperate personality, but when he got mad he tended to lose it and, if necessary, he was known for throwing a few things.

“Son your brother and I did the best thing for you. A man out here shouldn't be alone.”

Peeta wasn't dead set against getting married. He hoped one day to be able to meet a girl, fall in love and eventually propose. What his brother and Haymitch did bothered him greatly, he had no say in the matter. He was married to a virtual stranger, a girl he knew nothing about.

“I know you you're mad, madder than a cat on bath day. But listen to me, you've been working like a dog ever since you left home. For the past four years you've done nothing but work, work, work, work. If Sunday wasn't a religious day I suppose you be working on a Sunday too. You're going to burn yourself out. You need a woman, someone who can work with you, someone who can help ease the burden, a partner.”

Everything Haymitch said was true. If Peeta had a partner, someone he had chosen, they could share the workload. It wasn't easy being in the middle of nowhere with just Haymitch to look at across the dinner table. The only company Haymitch kept, besides Peeta, was those damned geese. They had one neighbor and it was a good half-Aday's ride. Town was another half-a-day's ride, if he rode his team at a brisk speed. Peeta didn't show the other man had a point. He grimaced, stood of akimbo, letting his muscles bulge to show he was upset.

“Listen, boy, your brother met the girl. He said she was hard-working, smart, quiet, quick, just the type of girls needed out here.”

“If she's so great, why don't you take her?”

Haymitch looked like he was ready to slap him upside his head. “I'm an old man, ’sides she's already got a husband.”

“Well, you can buy her ticket back and get rid of her. I ain’t going with you.”

Haymitch only shook his head at Peeta, and Peeta felt a twinge of guilt for being so rough with Haymitch. The man had uprooted himself from his cozy life back in Philadelphia to come out here with him. It had been a rough four years, but the farm was starting to make a profit.

“I'm going to go outside to hitch the horses so that we can go meet your bride in town.”

Peeta took his hat and threw it on the table as he ran his hand through his blond hair. He left his mother's side because he could no longer take the abuse. Coming out to Ohio was a grand gamble for him. A day didn't pass by when he wanted to bury his hands in some dough and do something familiar. He was a baker at heart but he needed to do this to show that he was not under his mother's control. Getting this “bride,” undermined all the work he had done for the past several years.

He placed his hands on his hips and looked around at the cabin that he had painstakingly built. He built this house with a family in mind. It had two bedrooms and a loft where children could sleep comfortably. There was an expansive living area with a large fireplace, a pot belly stove, a sink with a pump from a well he made, and a pantry. He even had cold storage space built underneath the house so that they could store food in the winter.

This was his dream, to have a family of his own. His children would be loved and cherished. He wanted to share all of this with the woman he loved, the woman he chose.

He felt cheated. But even in the midst of his dilemma his mind went to the girl who was traveling all the way from New York to the wilds of Ohio. A girl who had hopes and dreams just as he did when he had hopped on the wagon trail from Philadelphia.

“Confound it, Haymitch,” Peeta said under his breath. He took the pitcher of water and rinsed his face and washed his hands, then put his hat back on. He didn't know what he was going to do with this girl under foot. There had to be a way to get rid of her, he just had to find it.

Haymitch had a darned grin when Peeta walked outside.

“Not a word, Haymitch,” Peeta warned as he hopped onto the wagon. He wanted no sass from Haymitch.

They were halfway to town when Peeta found his voice again. “How do you know if she's even a quality girl?”

“Well you know Gale Hawthorne?”

Peeta thought about his ornery neighbor to the east of him. The only time Gale smiled was when his wife Delly was around. They were the oddest couple. He was quiet and brooding and she was always smiling and talking. Delly was a sweet woman and fiercely devoted to Gale.

“Yeah.”

“Well his wife Delly came from the same agency as your bride. I had no idea Delly was a mail order bride. Miss Effie trains young women to be good wives.”

Peeta had heard of Miss Effie's School For Refinement of Young Ladies from Delly. He had no idea the woman was a matchmaker. He reasoned his bride had to be a good woman, Delly was a testament. Though even with all his reasoning, the fact was he didn't want to be married to this poor girl who was coming here. And maybe, just maybe, he could get his marriage annulled. It wasn't a church marriage after all.

“How did you ever come up with the scheme in the first place?” Peeta asked. To say he was curious was an understatement. The only thing Haymitch knew besides geese and horses was the bottom of his whisky flask.

“I was at the Hawthorns' one day complaining about how I didn't get a break from you and Delly said you needed to get married and have a family.”

Peeta raised an eyebrow the muscle in his chin twitched, he was frustrated.

“What Delly said got me thinking. If you got married and had a couple of youngins, say five. If you spent six minutes with each kid a day that would give me thirty minutes a day to myself. We work from sunup to sundown. You have me so busy I can't even think for myself and thirty minutes sounded like a holiday.”

Peeta had no idea Haymitch felt this way. He squirmed in his seat. There were times in the summer they worked well past nine at night. Haymitch was older than Peeta and Peeta supposed Haymitch needed time to rest.

“So I got the agency's name from Delly and wrote to Miss Effie on your behalf. When she arranged the marriage, I wrote to Degory to help me. Degory promised he would not involve your mother. He wanted to make sure the girl was good enough, so he paid a visit to Miss Effie. Upon meeting her, your brother was convinced. He arranged to marry her by proxy.”

“How did you get my signature?” Peeta hoped they forged his signature or the paperwork. This would give him his out.

Haymitch cleared his throat, “Remember a while back you signed some papers.”

“You said those are for the purchase of some livestock?” Peeta nearly stopped the wagon.

“I snuck the contract in there.”

The situation really was quite funny if you look at it from an objective point of view. He would have laughed if this happened to someone else.

“Trust me, Peeta, you're going to love her.”

Peeta didn't think so.

They arrived in town and parked the wagon by the general store. The stagecoach had just pulled into town.

Haymitch jumped off the wagon Peeta didn't follow. “You coming, boy?”

Peeta shook his head. No. There was no way he was going to go see a girl he wasn't even interested in meeting. He pulled his hat over his head and leaned back in the bench to take a nap.

It wasn't a big town, so noise traveled even on a busy day like today. Peeta heard Haymitch coming toward him. Sighing deeply, Peeta sat up ready to crush the poor girls dreams.

“Peeta, this is Katniss Everdeen, I mean Mellark.” Haymitch introduced.

When Peeta saw her all the arguments he had mounted in his mind disappeared. She was as lovely as the sunset on a clear crisp evening. Her eyes were the color of lit embers of charcoal, they possessed a fire that stole his breath away. His heart thumped in his chest loudly and he became deaf and dumb from her beauty.

Katniss offered him a shy smile.

Peeta was a goner. He offered her his best smile as he jumped down from the wagon. He fumbled with taking off his hat. He was wrong and he would eat every single one of his words. He had found the girl he would share his life and home with and she'd come special delivery.

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #everlarkbirthdaydrabbles #everlarkbirthdaygifts #fan fic #by mega-aulover

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guerritosporecitos-blog · 5 years

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The white door opened with the hinges squeaking. I looked there with Josh sweating like hell. I stood up to hug him. I honestly thought he was going to leave like he has been joking about this whole time.

It's been hours since I had seen him and he was finally at out some step. I fell asleep and he was in his bed too.

But when I woke up two hours ago, I didn't see him anywhere.

I couldn't text obviously, so I just had to wait.

I actually asked Lynn, the lady at the front desk who was a massive friend of his, and she said that she did see him pass by a few minutes before six in the morning. It was about nine in the morning now.

He had our bags in his hands, the ones we've been using before that day for school. I grabbed mine beaming.

I opened the top and thank fucking God my chemistry notes were just fine. I use these to help me cheat my quizzes. Just stuff it in a cutout eraser and done. Flip it and hide it.

I flipped in my math sheets. Now for Algebra, I wouldn't need it, but maybe it would help every once in a while.

"How is everything not damaged by the water?"

He quit searching around his leather bag staring me in the eye. "I'm sorry?"

"From the sewer, I mean."

"Oh, " He ran a sweaty hand in his sticky hair. " I actually know another way around, that's how my gun has been undamaged before that day."

"Then why didn't you tell me about that one?"

His eyes moved to the ceiling, thinking of how to put it all lightly. "Your body just isn't at that, build?"

I knit my eyebrows feeling around my arms. "I can lift a few pounds."

"Oliver, I wouldn't count five to be enough."

"I mean, in PE I could swing a bat and have the ball go eight yards." He looked down my body and I could see his teeth show while he tried to smile, calling it out as bullshit.

"You should stay a nerd."

I rolled my eyes fishing around. I wanted to know if I had everything. Nothing behind.

A blue pencil pouch with three zippers dividing my markers and highlighters from glue sticks and away from the pens, erasers, and pencils. 0.5 binder just for my Ukrainian language class, three inches for all of my subjects, periods in order. And a good luck charm. I was just going to take out the school workouts working on before and toss it in the trash. Cleaning my bag out.

"Did you have something wrong with your neck this morning?" I turn my head over to him, hair flicking out my eyes.

I felt around my chin, collarbone, and neck. I didn't find anything. "No?" I started from the left moving to the right.

That's when I found the bump. I poked, moving it around at it rolled up. Then moved its only self.

His eyes widened while I just sat there not knowing what to do. My face was draining from color with a heart going over the speed limit.

I gulped down my anxiety standing up.

I was rushing and tripping to the bathroom mirror. I turned my head in different angles for the best position to view this. I shook in fear backing away.

"Just, lay in bed and I'll find my box cutter. I think I already know what it is." He was already up to be looking around the room.

"Wait, you'll be doing surgery on me?" I mean, he's smart but he doesn't have a medical degree.

He looked around the floor, his pockets, and even nightstands panicking. "Josh, it could just be a wart, we could go to the hospital close by if it's that big of a worry!"

"Those don't move! They just, grow!" He had all drawers moving back and slamming shut, worried to death, shaking, and sweating again. "Where is it?!" He turned to search around. He exhaled when he finally found something that would do for him. He jogged grabbing the knife off his stand after looking around again. I shook my head backing up to the wall; he grabbed my arm pulling me to my bed and I stood my ground in fear. "I promise, I only want to see what this is."

"You don't know what the fuck you are doing!" I refused to lay in bed so he pushed me up the wall I was already against. I fought back but it was like pushing a wall of bricks. I couldn't push him off. "Get the fuck away from me!" The blade slides out. I whimper about moving the farthest I could.

Then he's cutting my neck. I bit my lip down gripping the ends of the door frame.

His whole face was dropping watching me cry out in pain. "I know, Oliver, I do, but please don't move." I looked in his eyes while he was concentrated. "I almost got it." He used the knife as a spoon bringing out a squirming creature. "Shit!" He jumped back watching it flop around the floor, just dying there. I joined him away from the premature big. He was up to the shower, the over side of the blood. I was jumping over the mess with a wasp, bumble bee, what the fuck ever holding down my bloody neck. "You see. Think about this next time you argue with me. Because just as for now, I probably saved your life. Twice. Both times you were arguing with me. In that forest and right now."

He exhaled. "I couldn't help out Jenna but I got you out of that car. I'm doing some good."

"Wait, "I ignored the blood dripping to the floor and sliding down my arm. "you know about Jenna?"

"Of course, I know about Jenna." He tore off the toilet paper to hold up my neck. "How else would I have magically come to your rescue?" He stood back crossing his arms.

"I- but how?" I could see he was getting impatient, but so was I.

"You are arguing with me again."

"It's been almost five weeks of me wondering. Why can't I know?"

"Oliver, arguing. I think and said I had enough of it."

"But I-"

He pressed a finger to my lips, I smacked it away. "Just clean the damn blood, patch yourself, and flush that parasite down the toilet. Right now that's all that matters."

"You can't fucking make me! I shouldn't go by anyone's rules just because they saved my life! What is the meaning to save a life of you'll just control it and make the life feel useless!"

"Now you're being overdramatic. All I did, was cut your neck."

I looked at my puddle with the bee who stopped moving. "But why won't you tell me how you knew."

He rolled his eyes walking out of the bathroom. "Just clean the blood and I'll make your breakfast."

I huffed opening up a cabinet for towels. I found one green and ugly, deal. I set that on the sink. With toilet paper, I dropped it in the bowl flushing it down. I cleaned the floor watching it stain. I exhaled finding a rag, getting it wet, and scrubbed the red. I heard eggs boil rolling my eyes. Eggs I would eat because they aren't fertile, yet he loves to point out my hypocrisy for it. I worked my arms on the tile floor.

Josh walked in munching on the plain cookies we made two nights ago.

I looked up with a small smile. "I really think I would need stitches."

"I'll take you in then. It does look bad."

"Don't fucking worry me." I stood up gathering the two towels.

"I just told you the truth, was that not what you wanted?"

I pasted him with my hair hitting my shoulders, being sassy about it. "Don't manipulate this."

"Don't argue."

"You are talking too, Josh." I set the rag down on the top and wrapped a towel around like a scarf.

"I'm just responding."

"Well, " I crossed my arms, sitting on my bed, crossing my legs. "maybe I'm doing the same."

He clenched his jaw. To keep preoccupied, he was cleaning off his knife.

I shrug one shoulder heading out the door.

"Where do you think you are going?"

"To the um, hospital?

"Oliver, they'll have to ask for your name."

"I could bleed out!"

He stood up walking to the bathroom. "I could help you!"

"Josh, I think you should stop being paranoid and let me do what I know is right for me."

"If us two can walk in here so could soldiers!"

"Joshua, I'm bleeding! They have free health care around here, I know they do. Take me to the hospital or I'll fucking head there myself!"

He shook his head getting the knife. "They make one move and we'll be living outside in a cave." I hopped off the bed with a wide smile.

"I sure it'll be fine."

It was hard to explain to them what had happened to me. They shamed Josh for doing this without a license, but a good defense was saying we didn't have time. I was laying in bed with curtains around me. Another patient, I think he was hit by a car, was on my right, but there were curtains covering my view.

Here we had free health care, I was just lying to stay alive, but I won't complain about the bonus.

They also had a few cases this. Not much, only six to total, but to know parasites have moved to humans.

The bee Josh cut out left a scar around my back. Hard to see with the tattoos but it's there.

They only wanted me to stay a night to see if I'll be well, sleep okay, and if my pain is just for a short period before they hand down medicine.

Turns out they came around three months ago but no one has been alerted. Every one of them was from the city, so with the next week, they will close the gates off to keep everyone here safe.

We don't know how they came to be all of a sudden, but they exist.

I asked a load of questions, I thought it could be a great report.

"My neck fucking hurts."

"I know, " He sighed looking down. "but I did the best I could do."

"No, I'm actually really thankful. Honest. It's just hell to have, this. And the unnecessary wires making it hard to move around."

"They are needed."

"Well, yes but still. They couldn't spend more time on making it teleport than making man-made viruses?"

"You're the brilliant one here and you pick to complain rather than to be a know it all?"

"I feel like we haven't meant."

"We did, you're just confusing. You want to study during our plans with Jordan and then you complain when you get a chance."

"I'm just in pain. Let me study and moan."

"Maybe I will leave you behind one day."

"You didn't today."

"Because you spend a little to too much time on a computer. Walk outdoors and talk to us all. I have to shoot people to spend only an hour with you."

I sat up raising an eyebrow. "So you wish to spend more time with me? I thought you hated me?"

"I never said I hate you, you can just be an idiot."

I gaze down my legs. "That's fair."

We had a little silence between us, but I wanted to speak when I was upset with him leaving.

"You should go to bed. You are in pain and you need a night to relax."

"What? No! Please don't leave."

"Oliver-"

"Well, what if you were right and there are shoulders from Seven here?" I wasn't convinced but I didn't like the idea of being alone.

"Oli-"

"What if!"

He exhaled nodding along. "Fine. I'll stay. But we won't talk, won't speak, just sleep. I'm tired too." I nodded moving to my side.

Now, I don't think I'm hunted down, but the thought of being alone somewhere I don't know about does scare the shit out of me.

Today was, a day. He went back to Seven for our school supplies and did homemade surgery on me.

I'll slap him one day for the pain.

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1989dreamer · 6 years

Text

Pennies and Dimes for a Kiss

Big thanks to annasakai for bidding on me (and letting me run with this idea) and thanks to @fandomcares for running this auction.

On AO3

Title and inspiration comes from Carly Rae Jepson’s Call Me Maybe.

Summary: Laura, lead singer of a garage band, sees her new next door neighbor mowing the lawn one day. Derek begs her not to make it weird.

~ * ~

Laura was tuning Babe, her fourth-hand electric guitar, when she saw him.

He was her neighbor, recently moved in next door, and currently he was taking off his t-shirt to mop at his sweaty face.

He was pale in the way that it was early summer and the temps had finally climbed high enough for tank tops and shorts. Moles speckled his skin, stars painted across the canvas of his body. Her fingers itched to write the lyrics of him.

“Derek!” she yelled. Her brother sighed loudly, rolling his eyes. He straightened from where he’d been tinkering with Dad’s bike and strolled to where she was sitting on an overturned cooler. He deliberately wiped his hands on a grease-covered rag before deigning to ask, waspishly, “What?”

“Go get my lyric book,” she ordered him.

He glared at her. “No.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, but he only glared harder. Ever since he’d shot up about a foot and a half and started weightlifting, she hadn’t been able to boss him around as much.

It was frustrating.

Well, bossing might not work now, but Derek was not immune to her begging.

“Please?” she whined. “I need to finish this,” she stroked Babe’s frets, “for the gig tonight, but inspiration.”

Derek rolled his eyes again but loped off amiably. He returned shortly, her lyric book in one hand, a twelve pack of Mountain Dew in the other, and their younger sister Cora trailing him.

“Thank you,” Laura said, grabbing the book. She scowled at him when she noticed the large, oil-stained prints all over the cover. “Derek!”

He snickered, setting the pack of soda down. “Hey, you got your book,” he pointed out. Laura glared harder, imbuing her gaze with as much hatred as she could. Sometimes he could be such an asshole.

“Your book and no pen!” Cora crowed. Laura stuck her tongue out at her. Cora may have only just turned twelve, but apparently she wasn’t too grown up to not retaliate by blowing a raspberry in Laura’s direction.

“Why aren’t you ever as rude to Derek?” she lamented.

Cora shrugged. “He lets me do what I want.” To emphasize her point, she grabbed a can of soda and Derek didn’t stop her.

Laura sulked, useless lyric book balanced on her thigh while she fiddled with the tuning keys.

Derek watched her for a few moments before digging a pencil out of his toolbox. Laura took it without acknowledgement, setting Babe down reverently. She flipped to a fresh page and began scribbling. Derek went back to Dad’s bike, and Cora sat next to him.

Next Door Hottie was back to mowing. He hadn’t replaced his t-shirt, and Laura spent a couple of minutes watching his muscles bunch under his skin. He was lean and wiry without being narrow or small. He appeared to be about Derek’s height, with legs up to the sky and strength bunched in his forearms as he pushed the mower back and forth.

She managed to write six truly terrible lines before NDH finished mowing, guzzling water straight from the hose in his backyard.

Laura fanned herself at the display, wishing she were the water he was chugging.

Immediately she wrote: “Baby, you look like you need a drink, and honey, I’m your flavor.”

Derek’s wrench clattered by her feet, and she yelled at him about almost hitting Babe.

He rolled his eyes. “She’s on the other side of you,” he said. “You’re making it weird. Quit staring or I’ll tell him.”

“You wouldn’t,” Laura gasped, clutching dramatically at her bosom.

“Don’t pretend to be insulted.” He rolled his eyes again. At this rate, he was going to strain something. “Just. Please don’t be weird to our neighbor. You’re not the one he’ll beat up if he doesn’t like you.”

“He’s not going to be another Jackson Whittemore,” Laura said, but she winced at the reminder of their previous next door neighbor who used to beat Derek up whenever Laura did something he didn’t like—and Laura had lived to antagonize him.

It hadn’t helped Derek any that he’d been crushing on Jackson’s best friend, Danny Mahealani. In order to protect Danny from the uncool, Jackson had jumped Derek and kicked his teeth in.

Two lawsuits and the Whittemores paying for Derek’s dental work later, the Whittemores moved away.

The house next door had been empty for almost two years. Now there was a gorgeous guy mowing the overgrown yard and making Laura’s nether regions quiver in anticipation.

She was going through a dry spell since Mom caught her with the older Lahey boy last year at one of her “study” sessions. All because Cam was already eighteen and Laura had just turned seventeen.

NDH looked like he was nicely under eighteen but still mature enough to know his way around a pussy.

“No one can be another Jackson Whittemore,” Derek broke into her thoughts. He still didn’t look happy, so Laura put down her lyric book and stood up to hug him. She stole a can of soda on her way back down.

“I’ve almost got the song,” she said. “I just need—”

“Less cheese?” Cora interrupted looking pleased with herself. Laura sneered at her.

If Derek was standing up to her now and being insufferable, Cora was ten times worse.

Derek was Cora’s favorite, so to have the carefully cultivated older-sister fear dispelled so rudely, it meant that her little sister was a little shit.

“My lyrics are fine. They’re just not as fine as him.”

Derek collected his wrench, taking time to grab Laura’s can and drain it in one long swallow. “You’re being creepy again,” he told her, handing the can back to her. “Besides, don’t you have a gig tonight? Shouldn’t you be over at Jordan’s to practice?”

Laura checked her watch, swearing because he was right. “Bye, assholes,” she called as she stuffed Babe into her case and grabbed another can for the road. Parrish lived on the next street over, the back of his yard butted up to theirs. She hopped the fence, jogging to make up time.

~ * ~

“No,” Stiles said flatly. He ignored the sad, pleading look Scott shot at him. Stiles sighed. “Do you see this?” he demanded, pointing around them. “The yard still looks like shit.”

In the not too distant neighborhood, someone began banging on drums. Stiles clenched his teeth.

He hated it here. He would have preferred to stay in his own neighborhood in Hill Valley with Scott and Harley, but with his dad’s election to Sheriff came a bigger paycheck. Dad had sold their modest two bedroom house and moved them 12.5 miles away.

Seriously, who did that?

At least since they were still in the same school district, he’d get to see his two best friends during the school year. It just sucked that since his dad had grounded him from his Jeep—something about a party with underage drinking and sex, neither of which Stiles was participating in—he hadn’t been able to visit his friends, relying instead on their texts and nightly messenger calls.

Since neither of them had vehicles or licenses, they hadn’t been able to visit either.

Scott had finally convinced his mom to drive him to Stiles’ new house for a sleepover, and now he wanted to go see some stupid cover band.

“Stiles,” Scott implored. “Please? They’re, like, the coolest. They go to our school.”

Stiles shook his head. “That just means they’re losers like us.”

“No,” Scott insisted, “they’re really cool. I mean, they’re all seniors and we’re going to be juniors.”

“Juniors are cool,” Stiles said. He wasn’t looking forward to school. If Jackson Whittemore was back from London, as the rumors were saying, then his life was over.

Jackson aka Jackass had been such a dick that he’d knocked some dumb Devenford Prep kid’s face in and had been sent to boarding school. In Europe!

And now Stiles was living in Jackass’s old house. There was no way this would end well for Stiles.

At least he could console himself with the fact that he hadn’t yet embarrassed himself in front of his hot next door neighbor.

Technically, Stiles had forty neighbors, fifteen of them to either side.

There were the Laheys on the left and the Hales on the right. Four Laheys. Eleven Hales. And only one had caught Stiles’ eye.

The middle child, Darren or Eric or something like that, was outside when Stiles and his dad came to scope out the place before his dad bought it.

Darren-Eric had been working on a motorcycle with his bulging arms on display. Stiles had walked into the clothesline post, and his dad had spent the rest of the tour alternatively laughing at him and trying to see what distracted him enough that he gave himself a black eye.

Since they’d officially moved in, Darren-Eric had worked on the bike damn near every day. And Stiles walked into the post so many times that Dad hired the boys next door—the immature Lahey brothers—to remove it.

It was a combination of his dad and Scott that inspired him to try getting Darren-Eric’s attention. His dad kept complaining about the state of the lawn—a tad bit overgrown—and Scott kept texting him stories about all the muscles he was getting by mowing his mom’s and Harley’s dad’s properties.

A neat yard and muscles. Sounded great. So Stiles spent all his time outside, pushing around a dinky mower he thought would die on him with every grunt, and trying to both catch the eye of and impress his hot neighbor.

So far, he hadn’t succeeded in anything except tanning (and making a few new muscles). Darren-Eric kept working on his bike and ignoring Stiles.

He complained once to Scott about it, and all Scott said was “Oh that sucks. Say, Mom said I could visit.”

Now they were here and Scott was still trying to get him to agree to go to the stupid band thing.

“Fine,” Scott said exasperated, “the neighbor you like? His sister is in the band. He’ll probably be there.”

“Wait,” Stiles said, gaze immediately going to the Hales’ garage. None of the kids, only three of them, two girls and the hot boy, were there. It was just the adults sitting on camp chairs, drinking beer, and shooting the shit.

“Seriously?” He’d seen the oldest girl with her guitar of course. He just hadn’t thought she’d been in the cacophonous racket emanating from the property flanking the Hales’.

Scott smiled knowingly, handing Stiles his plaid over shirt.

“I hate you,” Stiles told him.

“Uh huh, let’s go.”

They jumped the fence and cut through the empty lot behind Stiles’ yard to join the growing crowd in front of an open garage.

The guitar-girl saw them and faltered. Stiles nudged Scott and he nudged back.

Behind her, helping to run cables from the instruments to the amps was Darren-Eric. Stiles shamelessly watched him. He wanted those arms and that face. He wondered what it would be like to kiss him.

Stiles hadn’t even kissed anyone yet. Scott followed his gaze and nudged him pretty hard. Stiles knocked him back, and when he looking again Darren-Eric was nowhere in sight.

He swallowed down his disappointment. Mostly because the band was starting to play and the crowd around them started yelling.

Up close, the band was just as awful, disorganized, and ear-bleedingly bad, but in kind of a good way? Guitar-girl was also the lead singer, and she had a good voice.

Halfway through the set, the band paused for water. Then, guitar-girl grabbed her mic.

“This next song is for all the younger siblings out there—especially you, Derek.” She pointed at Darren-Eric, who was hiding behind a shapely shrub.

Derek, Stiles thought. It was a good name for him.

“Scott, give me some paper.”

“No.” Scott carried a journal everywhere. He never actually wrote in it, but he said liked to be prepared.

“Please?”

Scott relented, handing over the notebook with its severely masticated pen. Stiles tore out a page and printed his number. Below it, he added a simple, “CALL ME” and folded it up. Then he gave Scott back his journal and settled in to listen to the rest of the set.

~ * ~

The gig had gone perfectly. Even with NDH showing up—and that was a nice ego boost, to have him staring at her during setup—and making her a little nervous.

Jordan’s cousin who usually helped them sort cables was sick, so Derek had helped. Normally, he stayed home listening to their aunts and uncles bitch about their jobs. He stuck around the whole set, glaring at her dedication of “You All Suck.” Afterward, he helped them tear down, rolling cables with a practiced ease she knew was from his theater nerd side. He wanted to be a mechanic or an actor. She wanted to be a singer. Their mother was disappointed in them both.

“Just you wait,” Jordan told Derek. “We’ll make a roadie out of you yet.” He accompanied it with a lecherous wink.

Derek pretended to laugh, sidling away from the drummer and the only one who’s mom would let him host a band out of his garage. Jordan made him uncomfortable, but Derek refused to confront him about it. Laura hadn’t figured out why yet. It drove her to frustration that he wouldn’t let her do it either.

Almost everyone in the crowd was gone when Laura looked up. Only NDH and his friend were still standing there.

Derek tapped her shoulder. “Need me?”

Laura shook her head. “Where’s my lyric book?”

Derek pulled it off a shelf and shoved it at her. He glanced at NDH and leaned in close. “Don’t be weird,” he said.

“I won’t.” All Laura was going to do was give NDH her number.

“Hey, so,” NDH said behind her, and she whipped around, paper held out defensively. He was behind her yes, but he’d grabbed Derek’s arm. “I just was curious—I mean, would you…?” he faltered, trailing off and blushing under Derek’s heavy gaze. Derek flicked his eyes to Laura and then deliberately opened a folded piece of paper in his hand. Laura saw a number and some words, looked down at her paper where all she’d written was “Call me?” She wrote down a number and slipped it into NDH’s pocket.

“Going home or not, Derek?” she knocked him with her shoulder. Derek’s face scrunched and he looked to NDH.

NDH stuck out his hand. “Hi, I’m Stiles. I just moved in next door.”

“Hi, Stiles,” Laura said. She looked from her brother to Stiles. They wore identical blushes, and she wasn’t dumb. She knew what it meant. It meant that she could write all the songs about Stiles’ attributes that she wanted but her drought would persist.

“Don’t stay out too late,” she called, shouldering Babe’s case. “And don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”

Derek groaned, covering his face.

“What would you do?” Stiles asked, innocently.

Derek groaned again. “Don’t,” he warned Laura. “Please don’t.”

Laura blew him a kiss and strolled to the fence to hop it. Her heart felt funny, like it was missing beats, but when she looked back and her brother was smiling, eyes shining at Stiles, their stances relaxed, the same blush burning both of their ears, she decided it didn’t matter. Besides, together, they made a pretty good pair.

Stiles definitely wasn’t another Jackson Whittemore, hallelujah. She couldn’t wait to tease her brother.

Maybe she would write them a song.

Maybe.

Maybe Call Me.

~ Fin ~

#Teen Wolf Fanfiction #Laura Hale #Stiles Stilinski #Derek Hale #Fandom Cares #Auction Piece #My Story/My Writing

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missymwac · 6 years

Text

I’m Offended

I woke up this morning and had a funny but motivational post running through my mind. One of those posts where I fly downstairs, pour coffee into my body as quickly as possible, and start typing. I got as far as the second sentence and I stopped. And I wrote this one, instead. Because staying positive is exhausting on social media. I think it’s time I hopped on the bandwagon and started getting offended at everything, even those posts that were never intended to cause offense. I've wasted too much time already. So for all of you on social media, I've got some stuff to say: PHOTOS OF YOUR DOGS: How dare you. You post images of your dog lying in the lap of luxury on the couch or curled up on your bed or, playing at a park, or, and this is the one that gets me, eating PEOPLE FOOD and you do this without thinking of the thousands of pets that don’t have a home and will be euthanized before you are done even reading this sentence. It’s like you get some perverse pleasure from showing how your pet isn’t dead. The insensitivity is staggering.

POSTS AND PHOTOS FROM RESTAURANTS: Well, lahdee-frickin’-dah…you went to a restaurant. That is SO hurtful to people with severe food allergies for whom eating out could land them in the Emergency Room. Do you have any idea how painful it is to see your damn creme brûlée when someone is suffering from lactose intolerance? And let’s not even get into how many chickens and cows had to live in captivity so you could sit there proudly holding up your dessert. A dessert with fruit on the top, fruit that was grown in an area where insecticide was used. My god, you hate bees. And when you show off your steak dinner? All I see is the smiling face of a happy cow murderer. POSTS ABOUT YOUR CHILDREN: I have no uterus. So thanks a lot for reminding me of that. POSTS AND PHOTOS FROM YOUR VACATION: You took a trip in February to a place that is beautiful; a tropical place with lots of sun and warm water. You showed pictures of fruity drinks with umbrellas in them. Oh, look at you laughing in the sun. You know who’s NOT laughing—people in CANADA. And Minnesota. And Montana. And <insert other cold states here> No, they aren’t laughing because they don’t have to time laugh because they are busy bundling themselves up against the frozen tundra they call HOME. They are shoveling driveways and worrying how they are going to keep their fingers and toes from falling off from freaking frostbite. I see you packed swimsuits, shorts and sunglasses for your trip, but you know what you didn’t pack? SENSITIVITY. PHOTOS OF YOU CELEBRATING ANY RELIGIOUS HOLIDAY: We get it. You celebrate Christmas. And you post about it on social media. Sometimes you include photos of your decorations. You post them so people can see a picture of your Christmas tree but what they really see is the unspoken message of “We celebrate the birth of Jesus.” To a pagan or atheist, that’s the equivalent of the Salem Witch Trials. They think that YOU and your icicle lights are coming for them. Does your insensitivity know no bounds? You see a tree and lights; many people see a woman screaming in flames. You say “Merry Christmas” without even thinking about it. How dare you celebrate Jesus when other people don’t? It’s like you feel some sort of right to share your faith. And don’t EVEN get me started on Easter. That pain might even run deeper.

OPINIONS: You have no right to your opinion, since EVERYONE doesn’t share it. I’m offended I even have to explain this. PHOTOS OF YOUR STARBUCKS CUP WITH YOUR NAME WRITTEN ON IT: Well isn’t that nice—you showed a photo of your newly acquired drink from Starbucks with your name written on the cup: Amy, Joy, Susan…but what about all of the Aimieees, Joieees, and Soozinns? What about them? Is it not painful enough that they NEVER had a license plate for the back of their bike? Do we now have to subject them to more hurtful misspellings at the hand of a careless barista? When you show your perfect name it’s like the Soozins of the world don’t matter. THINK, people. There’s really a whole lot more to get offended about, but I don’t have time right now to continue. If you wish the list was longer, then you are clearly not considerate of my time and the things going on in my life and you have made this list all about yourself and what YOU want not taking my feelings into consideration and, quite frankly… I’m offended.

(Note: If you like this post, please do not respond with a heart emoji. My dad had heart issues when I was in middle school and when I see that little red heart after a post, it doesn't make me think of LOVE. I don't know why you don't realize that.)

#offense #Social media #offendedbyeverything #perspective #facebook

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loveisour-resistance · 6 years

Text

feel this burning, love of mine

And it happened. I finally made an effort in writing and publishing something. I came up with this idea, then came across Prompt #16 of prompts4all, and just had to put it down into words.

It's my first work in English, and I'm not an experienced writer. A huge thanks to Byzinha, my long time friend and awesome writer. I need to say her stories are a big inspiration for me, I love the way she portrays our favorite characters. Thank you for encouraging me and taking your time to revise this.

Enjoy!

AO3 // FF.Net

April, 1987

The last semester of sophomore year was stressing El out of her mind. How could the teachers have so many ideas of how to fuck you up with that amount of essays? She was sure she wouldn’t survive the last period that day.

She had this love-hate relationship with Thursdays. If it had been a nice week, it felt like it was almost Friday, meaning that Saturday was closer than ever and she could spend the day with Mike and her friends. But if it was a bad week, Thursday meant one more day in her way to the weekend.

It hasn’t been a nice week. After Spring Break, Mrs. Flynn came up with the brilliant idea they should partner up with a classmate until the end of the school year for a project in which they would have to write a review about the designated book every. Fucking. Week. It certainly didn’t help that she got Lori Parsons, the laziest girl in school, to partner up with her, what meant she had to do the whole work by herself and caused her a sleepless night trying to finish the damn excerpt. She wished she had used her powers to pick up Max’s name from the pot. She wished she could use them right now to make Lori choke on her own bubblegum.

At least she had made Mike promise her they were going to have ice cream after class that day, because she was so tired and thought she deserved it for all the hard work she’d been doing. That was what she was looking forward and what prevented her from knocking her head on the desk. What in fact would be helpful, since she was already feeling dizzy and heavy headed.

The last period was finally over and she couldn’t believe it when she finally made her way to her locker alongside Max complaining about her own project partner.

“Really, I don’t know what else to do with Randy! He’s just so obtuse! Do you believe he- El?” El was dragging her feet so slowly, she didn’t even notice when she started walking with her eyes half-closed. She bumped into Max when she suddenly stopped, worried about her. “El, are you ok?” she nodded with a half-smile.

“Yeah, just really tired… You’re not the only one with a dickhead of a partner,” El rolled her eyes and Max nodded, understanding.

They reached their lockers and began tucking their stuff inside it carelessly. El’s movements were really slow and she didn’t notice that her burning eyes were closing again when a pair of arms embraced her from behind, causing her goosebumps.

“Hey,” she found it weird that she couldn’t smell his perfume, she could usually feel it when he was arriving. He turned her around and gave a quick peck on her lips, leaving them both smiling. “Missed me?” She began nodding in answer when she felt this sudden tingle beneath the bridge of her nose and she couldn’t help the loud sneeze that followed, making sure it didn’t go right into Mike’s face.

“BLESS YOU!” Dustin shouted, and half the corridor was laughing.

“Thank you,” El answered laughing a little too, but Mike wasn’t laughing. He was looking intently at her face with scrunched eyebrows. His dark eyes were full of something she’s seen lots of times, but didn’t quite get it at the moment. His freckles looked like they might fall of his face and pour over her, and she didn’t understand why the hell she was thinking that, but she also didn’t care. His hands cupped her jaw, his long fingers touching her neck. She shivered and closed her heavy lidded eyes, lingering on his touch.

“El, you’re hot,” she smiled at the statement.

“Hmm thanks, babe, you’re not bad yourself.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, get a room!” she heard Lucas complain and their friends let out some ews.

“No, El, you’re burning hot! Like, you got a fever! How are you feeling?” Mike continued testing her temperature with his own hand on her forehead. She looked at him and began connecting the dots of why she felt so out of it the whole morning.

“I-I don’t know… Now that you said it, I feel a little dizzy, my eyes are burning, my head is exploding and my throat is a little scratchy, I think,” she scrunched her eyebrows and matched his. “I thought it was because my lack of sleep last night.”

“Well, of course it helped,” he pursed his lips, rolling his eyeballs, clearly pissed off. “You should get some rest, let’s go home,” he took her hand and started walking towards the large doors at the end of the corridor. For a millisecond she followed his lead, stopping on her tracks when she remembered.

“But what about my ice cream?” Mike stared at her in disbelief.

“You gotta be kidding me. You are kidding, right?”

“But you promised!” El whined, pouting a little. He took a deep breath.

“Love, you are obviously sick. I don’t think stuffing your face with ice cream is what you need. I’m taking you home, where you can rest.”

Will suddenly approached them. In fact, they were all behind them all the time, but El just didn’t notice at all.

“Yeah, but no one’s home right now. I gotta go to work, mom is at the store and Hopper is out of town doing ‘chief things’ or whatever. The thing is, El would be alone until we got home.”

“I’ll be with her. I’ll keep her company until you get home.”

El missed Will’s suspicious look, as she just listened the chitchat not paying attention, for her eyes began to close again while she leaned on Mike’s side. He immediately embraced her shoulders and headed to the exit. Luckily, Mike had just gotten his driver’s license the previous month, and his mother had lent him the car that day, since he told her they were all going to the ice cream shop after class.

“Get better, El!” Max said when she left on her skateboard with Lucas dragging his bike by her side.

“You take care of my sis, ok? No funny business, Wheeler.” Even with her headache, El couldn’t help but smile at Will’s protectiveness while she got on the passenger’s seat. She loved her new brother. “You can call me or my mom if anything happens.”

“Okay, Byers.” Mike rolled his eyes, but smiling at his best friend. Will hopped on his bike and went to his part time job at the local record shop.

Dustin got on the backseat of the car, as Mike started the engine. As Dustin’s bike had broken down two days ago, he was more than happy to get a ride home.

“You look really bad, El.”

“Thank you. I feel like shit.” she stated in a husky and low voice. Her throat hurt. She was quiet for the rest of the ride, and the boys’ small talked a bit. She almost didn’t see Dustin getting off the car and waving them goodbye. Even half asleep, she felt Mike’s eyes on her every two minutes or so. Soon enough, he pulled over her house’s front yard, and she stumbled out of the car before Mike ran to catch her, helping with her heavy backpack.

“What do you carry inside this, anyway?” She didn’t even mind answering that as they got in the house. She was embracing herself, shivering cold. “You should take a bath. I’ll fill the tub.”

Mike put her on the sofa and ran to the bathroom to prepare her bath. As the tub filled, he ran into the kitchen, looking for the first-aid kit he knew Joyce kept inside one of the cupboards. After opening all of them, he eventually found it. Of course it would be in the last one. He looked for a thermometer and some antipyretic, checked the dipyrone expiration date and luckily it was recently added to the kit. He then left it on the kitchen table and ran back to the bathroom, where the tub was almost full. Back to the living room, he found El shrunk on the sofa, trembling. Mike was really trying to keep calm, but he was so fucking worried.

“C’mon, babe, let’s take a bath.” He called trying to pull her up. Surprisingly, she had a weak, mischievous half smile.

“Will you join me?” He shook his head in disbelief, but smiling, nevertheless.

“You’re impossible, Hopper.”

They dragged through the corridor, and El sat on the edge of the tub, pulling her hair up on a messy top knot. Mike helped her out of her white Keds, slowly unbuttoned her loose white shirt, which had a knot at the bottom. With her help, he nervously pulled out the baby blue tank top she had underneath. She got up and took off her jeans. Mike tried to keep it cool, but could not help the blush that crept on his cheeks at the sight of El only on her cute light pink striped underwear. It was not like he hadn’t seen her like that before, but the Wheeler boy had the feeling he would never get used to it. She looked at him through half-lidded eyes, the fever giving her cheeks and plump lips a deep red tone. She then shuddered again and he got to his senses and back to his task. He closed the tap as she took off her bra and panties while he had his back to her. Embracing herself, covering her breasts, she got into the tub, quickly sitting down.

“Fuck, Mike, it’s too cold!” He then turned to face her again, she was quivering hard.

“I’m sorry, love, it has to be this way to lower your body temperature. At least that’s what my mom says,” he finished with a questioning and doubtful look. It did work when he was sick, but he didn’t like to inflict discomfort to El. “I’ll get you a dipyrone. Be right back!”

Mike ran to the kitchen, getting a glass of water and the pill. It really wasn’t necessary to check her temperature before, the fever was pretty obvious. Back to the bathroom, he sat on the tub’s edge facing El and gave her the medicine. She made a face, never too fond of pills, but took it without questioning. Taking the soap from her hands, he washed El’s back very slowly.

“I wish I could breathe.” Only then he noticed her nasal voice.

“Yeah, the flu got you hard this time. Maybe you shouldn’t force your body to stay awake when you should be getting a nice sleep. It weakens your immune system.”

“That’s what you get when you’re assigned with dumb bitch Lori Parsons to do an excerpt of 1984 and the moron tells you the day before she wouldn’t be doing anything because she didn’t fucking ‘feel like it’!” El heavily tried to breathe. “I need to improve my grades in Literature, you know that.”

“You should talk to Mrs. Flynn, then. She could re-assign you with someone better.”

“Yeah, like that would happen.” she rolled her eyes, regretting it as she felt the sting of pain.

“We’ll figure it out. Now you have to rest. Wanna get out?” She nodded and he went to get her towel on the hanger. He helped her up, putting the large towel over her shoulders. She still quivered a bit, but she looked a little better already. Mike gently rubbed her face dry, as she smiled lovingly at him. He smiled back and pecked the tip of her little upturned nose. “Can you get dressed alone?” She nodded and finished drying herself, going to her bedroom.

Mike took the chance to make her something to eat, as he was starving too. Not really in the mood for her favorite Eggos, he ventured on the Corn Flakes box he’d catch sight earlier. He got two bowls and spoons, and a gallon of milk from the fridge. His girlfriend came in the kitchen wearing sweatpants and a large long sleeved striped shirt he was pretty sure once belonged in his wardrobe. Her hair was on a loose braid over her shoulder.

“Hungry? I thought we could have these cornflakes, but I can heat you some Eggos, if you prefer.” She shook her head while taking a seat.

“Cornflakes are okay,” she looked up at him with her large brown eyes. “I would rather have that ice cream, anyway.”

“Jesus Christ, El! You sound like a broken record!” he sounded a bit mad, but internally, he was fighting the smile, amused by her persistence on this fucking ice cream. Taking a seat by her side, he filled the bowls with the Corn Flakes, pouring a little bit of milk. She wasn’t very cheerful about the meal, finding it hard to chew and breathe at the same time, as well as swallowing it through her sore throat. It didn’t take too long for her to give up on eating the tasteless food.

“I want to go to bed,” she stated, sighing.

Mike nodded and finished his bowl, leaving the dishes on the sink. Taking the thermometer he got earlier, they went to her bedroom. He pushed back the blankets from the bed, making room for her to lie down comfortably. She looked like a kitten crawling into bed and rolling under the blankets. He tucked it tightly around her, making her look like a giant burrito.

“Let’s take your temperature,” he said putting the thermometer in her mouth. He took a seat by her side on the edge of the bed and faced her while the minutes passed. He checked her bodyheat with his hands and, despite her rosy cheeks, she was apparently colder under his touch. She looked very tired, but kept a smile on her lips around the stick. He took it out, and indeed the fever had lowered, almost reaching a normal body temperature. Mike smiled at her, reassuring. “How do you feel?”

“My body is a bit sore,” El yawned, “and sleepy.”

He giggled and lied down beside her, putting his arm around her over the blankets.

“Mind if I stay here?” he asked and she shook her head, just the smallest of movements.

“You can stay…” El answered, closing her eyes already, “even though you’re an idiot,” she shot, fighting a side smile.

“Just because I didn’t give you ice cream?” he rolled his eyes in disbelief.

“Yes.”

“But you’re sick!” she didn’t have the strength to open her eyes.

“You’re still an idiot, Wheeler,” her stubbornness kept amusing him, he just grinned at her. Still hard to get air through her lungs, she sighed. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

Mike gave a protective kiss on her forehead.

“I’ll always take care of you, El. As long as you want me to.”

“I will always want you to.”

He hugged her tighter, as she comfortably fit in his arms, fast asleep.

By the next week, while El was still recovering from the flu, she forced Hopper to leave her at the Wheeler’s, throwing her puppy eyes to convince her dad on letting her go check on her sick boyfriend. Of course he wouldn’t be immune to that damn virus that was affecting half the school, as she got to know. Even if she still was a little weak, she climbed on his bed and hugged him tightly, facing his back.

“You shouldn’t be here, you were getting better,” Mike weakly complained, but smiled at her presence, feeling a sudden burning on his chest that had nothing to do with his fever.

“I’ll take care of you, too,” she stated, caressing his messy raven hair. “And you better get well soon.”

He slowly turned around to face her. How could he still look so cute?

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she smiled at his flushed face, “you still owe me that ice cream.”

#mileven #eleven/mike #stranger things fanfiction #mike/eleven #el/mike #mike/el #mike x eleven #mileven fanfiction #stranger things #Rated T for language #foul-mouthed El is my aesthetic #El knows what she wants #Mike knows what she needs #Mileven will be the death of me #take care of the ones you love #stranger things fic #fic writers

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